"No, no!" cried Maurice, instantly repenting of his jest. "No—there is nothing the matter—only good news!" And, flinging himself at Tristram Hungerford, he embraced him in French fashion.—"How do you do, Mr. Dormer? I heard your sermon—that is to say the end of it."
"I saw you," said Dormer, smiling, as he shook hands, and Tristram exclaimed, "Oh, were you there, my dear boy? Come and sit down, Charles, and then we must hear this good news. Supper will be up in a moment—but I hope you have had something more substantial, Maurice?" And, evidently torn between a desire to pilot his friend to the most comfortable chair and eagerness to hear the promised tidings, he accomplished the first before taking hold of Maurice and saying "Well?"
And then it burst out.
"Solange will marry me, and what is more, will marry me in three weeks' time!"
"At last!" exclaimed Tristram. "My boy, I am so glad! But why is it so very sudden?"
A sort of struggle between satisfaction and sadness was visible in the young soldier's manner as he replied, "Because I am ordered to Algeria next month, and must sail from Marseilles on the 25th. You see, they have made me lieutenant-colonel."
Tristram gave an exclamation, and Maurice went on quickly. "Solange is so wonderful; she has given up all idea of a great wedding. She said at once that if she was to marry a soldier she could be ready in three weeks."
"What did her mother say?" asked Tristram.
"Oh, Maman arranged all that," returned Maurice, sitting down astride a chair. "She is almost as pleased as I am that it has come all right."
"Or as I am," said Tristram. "How long can you stay, Maurice?"