And then about Betty--that was annoying too, but he had promised to do it, and to break his word to Laura was a thing he could not do. Laura--Miss Laura, if she pleased, though that is not a usual mode of address--but not Lance--how right she was! The name of Lance did not suit her at all, and yet how just and sweet all the same. Her mother had made a mésalliance, but there was no pettiness about her. She held by her father, though she was aware of his inferiority. And then he thought of her as she shook her head gently, and smiled at his awkward stumbling suggestion that the accident of the name was not irremediable. “At my age,”--what was her age? The most delightful, the most fascinating of ages, whatever it was. Not the silly girlhood of Bee and Betty, but something far more entrancing, far more charming. These thoughts interfered greatly with his correspondence, and made the mass of foreign newspapers, and the military intelligence from all over the world, which it was his business to look over, appear very dull, uninteresting and confused. He rose hastily after a while, and took his hat and sallied forth to Portman Square, where he was expected to luncheon. He was relieved, on the whole, to be thus legitimately out of the way in case that fellow should have the audacity to call again. “I want you to come out with me, Betty,” he said, after that meal, which was very solemn, serious and prolonged, but very dull and not appetising. “I want to take you to see a friend--” “Oh, papa! we are going to---- Mrs. Lyon was going to take me to see Mr. Revel’s picture before he sends it in.” “To-morrow will do, my dear, equally well, if your papa wants you to go anywhere.” “Mr. Revel’s picture? He is precisely a friend of the friend I am going to take you to see.” For a moment Colonel Kingsward wavered thinking how much more agreeable it would be to have his interview with Laura undisturbed by the presence of this little chit with her sharp eyes. But he was a soldier and faithful to his consignee. “If it will do as well to-morrow, and will not derange Mrs. Lyon’s plans, I should like you to come now.” “Run and get ready, Betty,” cried the old lady, to whom obedience was a great quality, “and there will still be time to go there, if you are not very long, when you come back.” The Colonel felt as if his foot was upon more solid ground; not that any doubt of Laura had ever been in his mind--but yet---- He had not suspected the existence of any link between her and Portman Square. “Mr. Revel is a very good painter, I suppose?” he said. “A great painter, we all think; and beginning to be really acknowledged in the art world,” said the old lady, who liked it to be known that she knew a great deal about pictures, and was herself considered to have some authority in that interesting sphere. “And--hasn’t he a wife? I think I heard someone talking of his wife.”