He spoke clearly and with a voice full of authority, but his bearing did not seem to jar upon Ida.
“I meant,” she answered humbly, “that I believe—of course I do not know if I am right—I believe that Mr. Cossey is in some way entangled with a lady, in short with Mrs. Quest, and that the question of whether or no he comes forward again depends upon her.”
“Upon my word,” said the Colonel, “upon my word the thing gets worse and worse. I never heard anything like it; and for money too! The thing is beyond me.”
“At any rate,” she answered, “there it is. And now, Colonel Quaritch, one word before I go in. It is difficult for me to speak without saying too much or too little, but I do want you to understand how honoured and how grateful I feel for what you have told me to-night—I am so little worthy of all you have given me, and to be honest, I cannot feel as pained about it as I ought to feel. It is feminine vanity, you know, nothing else. I am sure that you will not press me to say more.”
“No,” he answered, “no. I think that I understand the position. But, Ida, there is one thing that I must ask—you will forgive me if I am wrong in doing so, but all this is very sad for me. If in the end circumstances should alter, as I pray heaven that they may, or if Mr. Cossey’s previous entanglement should prove too much for him, will you marry me, Ida?”
She thought for a moment, and then rising from the seat, gave him her hand and said simply:
“Yes, I will marry you.”
He made no answer, but lifting her hand touched it gently with his lips.
“Meanwhile,” she went on, “I have your promise, and I am sure that you will not betray it, come what may.”
“No,” he said, “I will not betray it.”