And she would hear nothing—nothing; and in his heart he could not blame her.
"If she had loved me less she would have forgiven," he had said to himself.
"The innocence of youth is cruel, because its ideals are so lofty, its exactions so great. She thought me a hero, and now I look only a beast!"
And he had left her. She would never forgive, he felt sure; and all his pleas and excuses only humiliated him, and never touched her. Desperate, maddened, hating himself and his old folly, whose burden he could never in life shake off, so he had passed from her presence and her knowledge for thirteen long years. And now he stood before her again and thought of the past.
"Do tell, Colonel," says the shrill voice of the Dresden China figure beside him. "Did you ever shoot a tiger out there in India, and is it really so hot, and do the elephants come out at night and knock all the houses down, and is there nothing but curry and rice to eat, and are the ladies all yellow, and have you brought any 'punkahs' or tigers' claws home with you, and did you know Captain Dasher of the 40th? He went out to Burmah last year."
Colonel Carlisle rouses himself, and looks at her bewildered. He does not know how to begin answering her questions. Fortunately he is saved the trouble.
"Why, aunt, there's Keith!" she exclaims suddenly. "He's come after all. Excuse me, Colonel; that's the young man I'm going to marry. Will you tell him I'm sitting here, and he's to come right along at once?"
Colonel Carlisle bows, and retreats delighted.