"So you are going away,—for a very long journey, Tom."
"Yes, Ayala; for a very long journey; to Pekin and Cabul, if I live through, to get to those sort of places."
"I hope you will live through, Tom."
"Thank you, Ayala. Thank you. I daresay I shall. They tell me I shall get over it. I don't feel like getting over it now."
"You'll find some beautiful young lady at Pekin, perhaps."
"Beauty will never have any effect upon me again, Ayala. Beauty indeed! Think what I have suffered from beauty! From the first moment in which you came down to Glenbogie I have been a victim to it. It has destroyed me,—destroyed me!"
"I am sure you will come back quite well," said Ayala, hardly knowing how to answer the last appeal.
"Perhaps I may. If I can only get my heart to turn to stone, then I shall. I don't know why I should have been made to care so much about it. Other people don't."
"And now we must say, Good-bye, I suppose."
"Oh, yes;—good-bye! I did want to say one or two words if you ain't in a hurry. Of course you'll be his bride now."