"You're not in earnest, Jamie? You're joking with us?"
James went over to his father, as the weaker of the two, and put his arm round his shoulders.
"I'm awfully sorry to have to grieve you, father. It's quite true—worse luck! It was impossible for me to marry Mary."
"D'you mean that you've broken your engagement with her after she's waited five years for you?" said Mrs. Parsons.
"I couldn't do anything else. I found I no longer loved her. We should both have been unhappy if we had married."
The Colonel recovered himself slowly, he turned round and looked at his son.
"Jamie, Jamie, what have you done?"
"Oh, you can say nothing that I've not said to myself. D'you think it's a step I should have taken lightly? I feel nothing towards Mary but friendship. I don't love her."
"But—" the Colonel stopped, and then a light shone in his face, and he began to laugh. "Oh, it's only a lovers' quarrel, Frances. They've had a little tiff, and they say they'll never speak to one another again. I warrant they're both heartily sorry already, and before night they'll be engaged as fast as ever."
James, by a look, implored his mother to speak. She understood, and shook her head sadly.