between first cousins was forbidden by the Church, and there were other reasons why he was resolute that this engagement should be broken off before it grew more serious.  So it was arranged that on the very next morning the young man should leave the house for ever.  Thus the great hope of Roger’s life was suddenly extinguished, and there was nothing left for him but to sail with his regiment for India, and endeavour, if he could, to forget the past.  Some days after that, at his cousin’s request, he wrote out for her a narrative of his sorrows at this time, in which he said:—­

“What I felt when I left my uncle it is difficult for me to explain.  I was like thunderstruck.  I came back to my room, and tried to pack up my things, but was obliged to give up the attempt, as my mind was quite absent.  I sank on a chair, and remained there, my head buried between my two knees for more than half an hour.  What was the nature of my thoughts, my dearest K., you may easily imagine.  To think that I was obliged to leave you the next day, not to see you again—­not, perhaps, for years, if ever I came back from India.  The idea was breaking my heart.  It passed on, giving me no relief, until about two o’clock, when my aunt told me that you wished to see me.  That news gave me more pleasure than I could express; so much so that I never could have expected it.  The evening that I saw you, my dear K., about five o’clock, you cannot conceive what pleasure it gave me.  I saw you felt my going away, so I determined to tell you everything I felt towards you.  What I told you it is not necessary to repeat, as I suppose you remember it.  When I came away from the drawing-room my mind was so much oppressed that it was impossible to think of going to bed.  I stopped up until two o’clock in the morning.  I do not think it necessary, my dearest K., to tire you with all the details of what I have felt for you during these two days; suffice it to say, that I never felt more acute pain, especially during the night when I could not sleep.  I promise to my own dearest Kate, on my word and honour, that I will be back in England, if she is not married or engaged, towards the end of the autumn of 1854, or the month of January 1855.  If she is so engaged I shall remain in India for ten or fifteen years, and shall wish for her happiness, which I shall be too happy to promote.”

Neither Roger nor Kate had, however, given up hope of some change.  Lady Doughty, despite a secret dread of her nephew’s habits, had a strong regard for him, and would be certain to plead his cause.  And in a very few days circumstances unexpectedly favoured his suit.  Sir Edward’s malady grew worse, the physicians despaired, and he believed himself near his end.  Roger was sent for hurriedly to take farewell of his uncle.  As he approached the sick bed his uncle said, “I know, my dear Roger, the mutual attachment which exists between you and your cousin.  If you were not so near related I should not object at all to a marriage between you two:  but, however, wait, three years; then, if the attachment still exists between you, and you can get your father’s consent, and also leave from the Church, it will be the will of God, and I will not object to it any longer.”