“Yes.  Isabel, my dear, order a chamber for Mr Forster.”  Isabel left the room.  “Yes, both married—­thought of nothing else—­regularly came out on spec.  In less than a month they knew the exact rank of every gentleman in the Presidency; ascertained their prospects, and the value of their appointments; turned the rupees into pounds sterling; broke off a conversation with an ensign at the sight of a lieutenant; cut the lieutenant for a captain; were all smiles for a major; and actually made love themselves to any body who was above that rank, and a bachelor.  They made their decision at last; indeed pretty quick.  They were only four months on my hands.  Both up the country now.”

“I trust they have married well, sir?”

“That depends upon circumstances.  They have married young men not used to the climate.  May be widows in half a year.  If their husbands weather it, of course, they will come in for their share of the good things; but I’ll warrant they will never be able to leave the country.”

“Not leave the country, sir!  May I ask why?”

“Because they have married foolish, extravagant wives, who will run them in debt; and when once in debt, it is no easy matter in this country to get out of it.  They must insure their lives for the money which they borrow; and as the house of agency will be gainers by their demise, of course they will not be permitted to leave the country and their chance of the cholera morbus.  Don’t you think that my niece looks remarkably well?”

“I do; the climate does not appear to have affected her.”

“Rather improved her,” replied the colonel; “she is not so thin as when she came on shore.  God bless her!  I’m sure, Mr Forster, I am under great obligations to you for having persuaded me to go for the dear girl when she arrived.  She has been a treasure to me!  If she has had one, she has had twenty offers since you left; many unexceptionable; but she has refused them all.  In some instances I have persuaded her—­I thought it was my duty.  But no; she has but one answer, and that is a decided one.  She will not leave me.  She has watched and attended me in my sickness as my own daughter.  I say again, God bless her!”

It was with delight that Newton heard these encomiums upon Isabel, and her resolution not to marry.  Whether it was wholly on account of not wishing to leave the colonel or not, still every delay gave him more chance of ultimate success.  Isabel, who had stayed away that the colonel might have time to make any communications to Newton, now returned, and the conversation became general.  Newton entered into a narrative of what had occurred during his passage home, and amused them with his anecdotes and conversation.

In about an hour the colonel rose from his chair that he might prepare for dinner; and then it was that Newton perceived the great change which had taken place.  He was no longer upright, but bowed down; his step was no longer firm, it was almost tottering; and, as he left the room, Newton’s eyes met those of Isabel.