It is on my own account that I am here.

Could you spare me a quarter of an hour ?" "Certainly, George," she said, in some surprise.

"I will come out into the garden.

We are likely to have it to ourselves at this hour." She fetched her hat, and they went out into the garden together.
George did not attempt to speak until they reached the other end, where there was a seat in a shady corner.
"Sit down, George," she said.
"Thank you, Miss Greendale, I would rather stand," and he took his place in front of her.
"I have a story to tell you," he said.

"It is very painful for me to have to tell it, and it will be painful for you to hear it; but I am sure that you ought to know." Bertha did not say anything, but looked at him with eyes wide open with surprise.
"I am sure, Miss Greendale," George went on, "that the Major never told you that the bad wound he received at Delhi that all but killed him, was my doing--that he was wounded by a ball from my musket." "No, George, he certainly never said so.