On the face of it, the story was of a trivial order, and in some of its aspects rather absurd.

Two young people who happened to be congenial, but one of whom was engaged, chance to be thrown together for a couple of months in a country house.

Although there is some gossip, nothing at all occurs between them beyond a little perfectly natural flirtation.

The young man's father, hearing the gossip, speaks to the young lady in order that she may take steps to protect herself and his son against surmise and misinterpretation.
Thereupon a sudden flood of light breaks upon her soul, by which she sees that she is really attached to the young man, and being a woman of unusual character, or perhaps absurdly averse to lying even upon such a subject, in answer to a question admits that this is so, and that she very properly intends to go away.
Could anything be more commonplace, more in the natural order of events?
Why, then, was he moved?
Oh! it was that woman's face and eyes.

Old as he might be, he felt jealous of his son; jealous to think that for him such a woman could wear this countenance of wonderful and thrilling woe.
What was there in Morris that it should have called forth this depth of passion undefiled?
Now, if there were no Mary--but there was a Mary, it was folly to pursue such a line of thought.
From sympathy for Stella, which was deep and genuine, to anger with his son proved to the Colonel an easy step.