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"That gown is getting shabby. Good-bye aunt. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband—I have only him. Quite!” He sat in the arm-chair and took tea, and consumed several of the extra cakes which she had sent out for and talked to her and expressed himself, looking very earnestly at her with his deep-set eyes, and carefully avoiding any crumbs on his mustache the while. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. Sir John stood upon the threshold. She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. And then suddenly—a relief. Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead.
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