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“Yes, sir. And that letter?” said Dick anxiously. He had felt misgivings about it ever since the heat of triumph in which it was written and posted in Melbourne.

“I liked it,” said the Colonel simply; “it was manly and frank, and to the point. You shall have my answer now; and I, too, will be frank. Four years ago, more or less, I was forced to answer in a certain way a certain question there was no alternative. Dick, think seriously you are both four years older; are you, for one, still of the same mind?”

“I am; indeed I am,” said Dick, earnestly.

“Then take your chance!” said Colonel Bristo. “I cannot say more; I don’t understand women; I find it bitter to say this much, I that am to lose her. But you deserve her; come here as often as you will; you will be very welcome. And if you both wish now both, mind! what you both wished then, when for obvious reasons I could not hear of it—”

“You were right enough, sir,” Dick murmured sadly.

“Then,” continued the Colonel, “I frankly tell you, I shall like it. That’s all; good-night!”