“And how about the seventh commandment?” inquired Walter, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh,” said the Colonel, indifferently, “you must mind your eye, like other husbands.  But in our walk of life it’s the man’s fault if the woman falls out of the ranks.”

“That’s not what I mean,” said Walter.

“What do you mean, then, if you mean anything at all?”

“I mean this, father.  She marries Percy Fitzroy in three weeks; so if I fix my affections on her up to the date of the wedding, shall I not be tempted to continue, and will not a foolish attachment to another man’s sweetheart end in a vicious attachment to another man’s wife?”

Once more was the Colonel staggered for a moment, and, oh—­as the ladies say—­is it not gratifying to find that where honest reasons go for nothing, humbug can obtain a moment’s hearing?  The Colonel admitted there was something in that; but even humbug could not divert him long from his mania.  “The only thing to be done,” said he, “is to cut him out between this and then.  Why, he stands five feet nothing.”

“That’s the advantage he has over me,” suggested Walter; “she is five feet eight or thereabouts, so he is just the height of her heart.”

The Colonel burst out laughing.  “You are no fool,” said he; “that’s the second good thing you have said these three years.  I forget what the other was, but I remember it startled me at the time.  You are a wit, and you will cut out that manikin or you are no son of mine.”

“Don’t say that, father,” said Walter; “and cutting out, why, that’s a naval operation, not military.  I am not the son of an admiral.”

“No equivocation, sir; the forces assist one another at a pinch.”

“How can I cut him out?—­there’s no room, he is tied to her apron strings.”

“Untie him, then.”

At this moment, whether because Hope attracted everybody in the course of the day, or because talking about people draws them to the place by some subtle agency, who should appear in sight but Miss Julia Clifford, and little Fitzroy wooing her so closely that really he did seem tied to her apron strings.

“There,” said Walter, “now use your eyes, father; look at this amorous pair.  Do you really think it possible for a fellow to untie those two?”

“Quite possible,” said the Colonel.  “Walter,” said he, sententiously, “there’s a little word in the English language which is one of the biggest.  I will spell it to you, T—­R—­Y.  Nobody knows what he can do till he gives that word a fair trial.  It was far more impossible to scale the rock of Gibraltar; but our infantry did it; and there we are, with all Europe grinding their teeth at us.  What’s a woman compared with Gibraltar?  However, as you seem to be a bit of a muff, I’ll stand sentinel whilst you cut him out.”