And yet he simply hated the bare thought of life without Lucille.

Better to be a gardener at Monksmead, and see her every day, than be the Colonel of a Cavalry Corps and know her to be married to somebody else....

Yes--he would come home one of these times from Sandburst or his Regiment and find her engaged to some other fellow.
And what then?
Well--nothing--only life would be of no further interest.

It was bound to happen.

Everybody turned to look at her.
Even women gave generous praise of her beauty, grace, and sweetness.
Men raved about her, and every male creature who came near her was obviously dpris in five minutes.