Very rarely, and for a moment only, Allison looked like his mother. For
an instant she lived again in her son's eyes, then vanished.

"Dad," he said, gently, "I'm sure you wouldn't desert me even if I did
marry. You've stood by me too long."

The stooped shoulders straightened and the Colonel smiled. "Do you mean
that--if you married, you'd still--want me?"

"Most assuredly."

"She wouldn't."

"If she didn't," returned Allison, lightly, "she wouldn't get me. Not
that I'm any prize to be wrangled over by the fair sex, individually or
collectively, but you and I stand together, Dad, and don't you forget
it."

The Colonel cleared his throat, tried to speak, then stopped abruptly.
"I have been thinking," he continued, with a swift change of mood and
subject, "that we might manage a dinner party. We're much indebted to
Madame Bernard."

"Good idea! I don't know what sort of party it would prove to be, but,
if we did our best, it would be all right with them. Anyhow, Aunt
Francesca would give an air to it."

"So would the others, Miss Rose especially."