My dear, most kind friend,' she said, and her own voice was tremulous,
'how can you use such an expression? _You_ grateful to us! Ah, no
indeed; as long as we live we shall be at a loss how to show our
gratitude to you.'

'Yes indeed,' said Colonel Mildmay. 'I do not know how to express my
appreciation of all your goodness. I'----

'Then you consent,' exclaimed Lady Myrtle, her bright eyes sparkling.
'You will be my children; you will let me feel that my lonely life is to
have some joy before its close.'

'Indeed, indeed, all we _can_ do, we shall,' said Colonel Mildmay very
gently. 'You cannot ask more affection than we are most ready to give.
But'----He hesitated, and the look of eager satisfaction faded out of
the old lady's face.

'But!' she repeated sharply. 'What "buts" can there be in so simple a
matter?'

It was a distressing position. Colonel Mildmay, essentially a
kind-hearted man and most averse to giving pain, felt it acutely. But he
was not one to temporise. It was a case demanding the plainest speaking.

'My dear Lady Myrtle,' he said, 'if I am blunt or rough, forgive me. It
is just this. I cannot agree to what I think wrong, and I could never
feel it right to agree to what you propose. I am still young enough and
strong enough to work for my family in my profession, and the day I
began to lead an idle, or even a comparatively idle life, would see me a
miserable man. If you are so good as to continue your interest in my
children--Jacinth especially--by asking them to visit you sometimes, we
shall be _most_ grateful. If--if you like to leave Jacinth some little
sum of money in your will which would help or increase any provision I
can make for her, I would be foolish and ungracious in the extreme to
object. But more than this--no, my dear friend, no. For--and here I must
crave your pardon beforehand for what must seem impertinence and
intrusion--not only have we, we Mildmays, _no_ claim upon you,
but--there are those who have.'

CHAPTER XVI.

A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT.

There was an awful pause. Such at least it seemed to poor Mrs Mildmay,
who, now that she was not called upon to act for herself, and felt under
the protection of her husband, dared to tremble! Then came Lady Myrtle's
reply, short, cold, and decisive.

'I deny it,' she said.

Colonel Mildmay did not speak.

The old lady glanced at him. His eyes were fixed on the table beside
which he was seated; he tapped it lightly with