"
"You think me a fool, then, Copplestone?"
"Why, what else can I think of you? If a man of fifty must needs go and
marry a girl of nineteen, he can't expect to be thought a Solon."
"Ah, Copplestone, when you have seen my wife, you will think
differently."
"Not a bit of it. The prettier she is, the more fool I shall think you;
for there'll be so much the more certainty that she'll make your life
miserable."
"Here she comes!" said the baronet; "look at her before you judge her
too severely, old friend, and let her face answer for her truth."
The room in which the two men were standing opened into another and
larger apartment, and through the open folding-doors Captain
Copplestone saw Lady Eversleigh approaching. She was dressed in white--
that pure, transparent muslin in which her husband loved best to see
her--and one large natural rose was fastened amidst her dark hair. As
she drew nearer to the baronet and his friend, the bluff old soldier's
face softened.
The introduction was made by Sir Oswald, and Honoria held out her hand
with her brightest and most bewitching smile.
"My husband has spoken of you very often, Captain Copplestone," she
said; "and I feel as if we were old friends rather than strangers. I
have pleasure in bidding welcome to all Sir Oswald's guests; but not
such pleasure as I feel in welcoming you."
The soldier extended his bronzed hand, and grasped the soft white
fingers in a pressure that was something like that of an iron vice.
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