When the door opened and Miss Lance appeared, she came up to him holding out both her hands as to an old friend. “Will you forgive me for keeping you waiting, Colonel Kingsward? The fact is we have just come in, and you know that a woman has always a toilette to make, not like you lucky people who put on or put off a hat and all is done.” “I did not think you were likely to be out so early,” the Colonel said. “My friend has a son at Oriel,” replied Miss Lance. “He is a great football player as it happens, and we are bound to be present when he is playing; besides, the Parks are so near.” “I did not think it was a game that would interest you.” “It does not, except in so far that I am interested in everything that interests my surroundings. My friend goes into it with enthusiasm; she even believes that she understands what it is all about.” “It seems chiefly mud that is about,” said the Colonel, with a slight tone of disapproval, for it displeased him to think that a woman like this should go to a football match, and also it displeased him after his private amusement and reflections on the feminine character of the house to find, after all, a man connected with it, even if that man were only a boy. “Come,” said Miss Lance, indicating a certain chair, “sit down here by me, Colonel Kingsward, and let us not talk commonplaces any longer. You have been obliged to stay longer than you intended. I had been thinking of you as in London to-day.” “It was very kind to think of me at all.” “Oh, don’t say so--that is one of the commonplaces too. Of course, I have been thinking of you with a great deal of interest, and with some rather rebellious, undutiful sort of thoughts.” “What thoughts?” cried the Colonel, in surprise. “Well,” she said, “it is a great blessing, no doubt, to have children--to women, perhaps, an unalloyed blessing; and yet, you know, an unattached person like myself cannot help a grudge occasionally. Here are you, for instance, in the prime of life; your thoughts about everything matured, your reason more important to the world than any of the escapades of youth, and yet you are depleted from your own grave path in life; your mind occupied, your thoughts distracted; really your use to your country interrupted by--by what are called the cares of a family,” she concluded, with a short laugh. She spoke with much use of her hands in graceful movement that could scarcely be called gesticulation--clasping them together, spreading them out, making them emphasise everything. And they were very white and pretty hands, with a diamond on one, which sparkled at appropriate moments, and added its special emphasis too. The Colonel was flattered with this description of himself and his capacities. “There is great truth,” he said, “in what you say. I have felt it, but for a father at the head of a family to put forth such sentiments would shock many good people.”