"All sorts of foolish things, I'm afraid. For one thing, I've been trying to exchange out of my own regiment into one ordered to India."
Lieutenant De Vere was betrayed into a whistle of profound surprise:
"Whew!"
"Yes," admitted the big, handsome fellow, shamefacedly.
"But do you mean to tell me that you were going to throw over the whole thing, Lady Lancaster, Lady Adela, and all—just because you were disappointed in love?" queried De Vere, in wonder.
"Yes, I believe I was—though I didn't think much about it. You see, I was just running away headlong from my own misery."
"I did not really believe you were so romantic," said De Vere, after a long pause.
"You mean so foolish," said his friend, eying him closely.
"Well, perhaps so," admitted the lieutenant.
"A man must be far gone, indeed, to throw away twenty thousand a year and an earl's daughter for the beaux yeux of a pretty little penniless girl. Such luck is not met with every day."