"Oh, I can answer at once."

Colonel Gilbert bit his lip, and looked at the ground in silence.

"Then I am too old?" he said at length.

"I do not know whether it is that or not," answered Denise; and neither
spoke while the colonel mounted and rode slowly away. Denise closed the
door quite softly behind him.




CHAPTER XII.


A SUMMONS.

"One stern tyrannic thought that made
All other thoughts its slave."


All round the Mediterranean Sea there dwell people who understand the art
of doing nothing. They do it unblushingly, peaceably, and of a set
purpose. Moreover, their forefathers must have been addicted to a similar
philosophy; for there is no Mediterranean town or village without its
promenade or lounging-place, where the trees have grown quite large, and
the shade is quite deep, and the wooden or stone seats are shiny with
use. Here those whom the French call "worth-nothings" congregate
peacefully and happily, to look at the sea and contemplate life from that