His hand brushed the pale ripples of her hair, as another hand had brushed them a short time back.

He expected her to answer him, and he was waiting.
"It is Captain Langrishe," she whispered at last.

"His boat goes from Tilbury to-morrow morning." "From Tilbury." The General remembered that Grogan of the Artillery, the club bore, had a daughter and son-in-law sailing from Tilbury next morning, and had suggested his accompanying him to the docks.

"Why he should have asked me," the General had said irritably, "when I can barely endure him for half-an-hour, is more than I can imagine!" "What is wrong between you and Langrishe, Nell ?" he asked softly.

"I thought he was a good fellow.