Then a thing happened which gave me new hope of the Colonel. It was the first time that his jacket had been warmed, and it looked as though the fire of remorse had begun to burn a little.
“Young woman,” he said, very solemnly, “if my humble example has been so misunderstood, if my conduct has so belied the sentiments of my heart as to create such an impression in the mind of the observer, I will do anything in my power to make amends, and I will listen to any suggestions you are good enough to offer.”
The suggestions were offered and accepted, and the sway of Buckstone was at its end.
“There is one other thing,” said Miss Dunbar. “You have cruelly misjudged my character, and there is one thing I shall ask you to do.”
“What is it?”
“That you join Ralph in Europe, and see that he returns all my letters within six weeks from date.”
“It was my plan to join him for a needed rest,” said the Colonel, “and you may be glad to know that I propose to bring him back with me.”
“What you propose to do with him is a matter of no interest to me,” said Florence. “I only demand the letters.”