"Well, what do you think of Sir Ian after these many years?" Mrs. Ricardo went on.
"He has changed, of course. He was a young man when—I saw him last."
"Oh, not so very young, surely. He must have been twenty-eight. You aren't so much more, now, dear."
"I'm thirty-one. And what a difference between a man and a woman! Besides, Ian—Sir Ian had hardly begun to live then. Like mine, his real life has been lived alone."
"I suppose all this means that he's gone off."
Terry laughed, quite naturally. "Does one talk of a man's going off? Anyway, Sir Ian hasn't. He's improved in some ways. He looks very strong and brave; a thorough soldier."
"Do you think him handsome?"
"Ye-es. He might pass for handsome. It's a pity he's out of the Army."
"Milly would have him give it up, when he came into the title and place. I suppose she wanted him all to herself. She's perfectly devoted to him."
"I'm glad. I'm sure he deserves it."
"He shows his feelings less than she. I'm thankful Norman isn't so cold. I couldn't stand it. I'm too impulsive myself."
"I shouldn't have thought Ian so cold," said Terry, and then a slight shade of vexation passed over her face, as if she were annoyed with herself.
