It would be impolite.

No, don't let me keep you.

Good-bye again." "Good-bye, Sir John," I said, taking his impatient hand and shaking it gently; "God bless you." "Thankee," grinned the old man, with a sardonic chuckle; "if anything could do me good that will, I'm sure.

Good-bye." * * * * * As I breakfasted next morning, previously to my departure, I could not help reflecting on the different position in which I was now returning to England, as a colonel on long leave, to that in which I had left it many--I do not care to think how many--years ago, the youngest ensign in the regiment.
It was curious to remember that in my youth I had always been considered the fool of the family; most unjustly so considered when I look back at my quick promotion owing to casualties, and at my long and prosperous career in India, which I cannot but regard as the result of high principles and abilities, to say the least of it, of not the meanest order.

On the point of returning to England, the trust Sir John had with his usual shrewdness reposed in me was an additional proof, if proof were needed, of the confidence I had inspired in him--a confidence which seemed to have ripened suddenly at the end of his life, after many years of hardly concealed mockery and derision.