o the docks. "Why he
should have asked me," the General had said irritably, "when I can
barely endure him for half-an-hour, is more than I can imagine!"

"What is wrong between you and Langrishe, Nell?" he asked softly. "I
thought he was a good fellow. I know he's a good soldier; and a good
soldier must be a good fellow. Has anyone been making mischief?"

He sent a sudden wrathful thought towards the Dowager. Who else was so
likely to make mischief? The thought that someone had been making
mischief was almost hopeful, since mischief done could be undone if one
only set about it rightly.

"No one," Nelly answered mournfully.

The General suddenly stiffened. His one explanation of Langrishe's pride
standing in the way was forgotten; it was not reason enough. Was it
possible that Langrishe had been playing fast-and-loose with his girl?
Was it possible--this was more incredible still--that he did not return
her innocent passion? For a few seconds he did not speak. His
indignation was ebbing into a dull acquiescence. If Langrishe did not
care--why, no one on earth could make him care. No one could blame him
even.

"You must give up thinking of him, Nell," he said at last. He could not
bring himself to ask her if Langrishe cared. "You must forget him,
little girl, and try to be satisfied with your old father till someone
more worthy comes along."

"But he is worthy." Nelly spoke with a sudden flash of spirit. "And he
cares so much. I always felt he cared. But I never knew how much till we
met at his sister's this afternoon and he bade me good-bye."

"Then why is he going?" the General asked, with pardonable amazement.

"Oh, I don't know," Nelly answered irritably. She had never been
irritable in all her sunny life. "But although he is gone I am happier
than I have been for a long time since I know he cares so much."

"I'll tell you what,"--the General got up quite briskly--"dress
yourself, Nell, and come down to the study, and we'll talk things over.
You may be sure, little girl, that your old father will leave no stone
unturned to secure your happiness. I'll ring for your dinner to be
brought up on a tray and we'll have a happy evening together. And you'd
better have a fire here, Nell. It's a very pretty room, my dear, with
all your pretty fal-lals, but it strikes me as being very chilly."

He went downstairs and rang the bell for Miss Nelly's dinner. The fire
had been stoked in his absence, and was now burning gl