"Why not?" he replied. "I have done my share of roughing it, surely."
"But—but—oh! I don't know. I had an idea once an officer, always an officer."
"Oh, nothing of the sort," he laughed, "I've given up soldiering to devote myself to you. Isn't that a much nobler occupation?"
"I don't think so," she answered, slowly. "Besides, I did not want you to give up your commission to devote yourself to me."
"At any rate, I've done it. I thought it would please you. It will show you, at any rate, how devoted I am. There is nothing I would not give up for your sake, and I never thought you would hesitate to speak the one word that would make me the happiest man in the world."
"But you could not be happy unless I was happy also?" she interrogated.
"But you would be happy. I should just lay myself out to make you as happy as a bird. By my soul, you would have a ripping time!"
"I don't think that is just what I want," she said, abstractedly. "Don't you think there is something greater in life than either of us have yet seen?"
He looked at her with as much astonishment in his eyes as if she had proposed suicide. "Greater," he said, in a tone of incredulity. "Well, I'm—I'm—. The truth is, Madeline, you're beyond me," he added, twisting suddenly round, and back again. "As if there could be anything greater. We might have a turn at Monte Carlo if you liked, or Homburg in the season, or—but the fact is, we might go anywhere. Think of it! You can't conceive of anything greater!"
"Oh, yes! I can," she answered quietly, but firmly. "There's nothing noble or heroic in living merely for self and pleasure."