But in truth he did not feel sure of it, Lord Florencecourt’s conduct lately having been in more ways than one a mystery to him.
Two days later, however, he had a conversation with his chief, the end of which supplied, as he thought, a clue to it. Lord Florencecourt began by reproaching him for a falling off in the quality of his ambition.
“I can see it,” said he, “I can see the fire slackening every day, aims getting lower, if not more sordid. I am an old fool, I suppose, to begin ‘the service is going to the dogs’ cry; but I, for one, believe in enthusiasm; a soldier without it is not worth the cost of his uniform; and I’d sooner see a young officer’s body shot down with a bullet than his soul gnawed away by a woman.”
“Colonel, you are going too far—”
“No, I’m not. What will you remember of the hardest words an old man can speak when you are once again in the arms of that—”
“You forget you are speaking of my wife,” interrupted George hastily in a low hoarse voice.
“Your wife! How many of the duties of a wife will that little thing in the red cap perform? Will she look after your household, bring up your children well, keep you up to your work, advance your interests by her tact, nurse you when you’re laid up? No; she’ll ruin you by her extravagance, disgrace you by her freaks, and if you ever should be ill or ordered off and unable to keep your eye on her, ten to one she’d bolt with some other man.”
“With all respect, Colonel, I think I have chosen my wife as well as some of my superiors,” said George, at a white heat, scarcely opening his lips.
Now every one knew that Lady Florencecourt was the soul of “aggravation,” but Lauriston had no idea that his retort would bowl the Colonel over so completely. Instead of indignation at the lieutenant’s turning the tables upon him, his face expressed nothing but blank horror, and an agony as acute as that which he had suffered two days before at sight of the Indian woman Sundran. Again the look was momentary; and in his usual voice, with his eyes fixed upon George, without any irritation, he said slowly:
“Lady Florencecourt—” He paused. George remained silently facing him, rather ashamed of himself. The Colonel continued more glibly—“Lady Florencecourt may be surpassed in amiability, I admit that. But she is at least above reproach, infirmity of temper in a wife counting rather on the right side of the balance, as the due of uncompromising virtue.”