f molehills in respect of her
and Lance....

Riding back along the Mall, he noticed absently an approaching
horsewoman, and recognised--too late for escape--Mrs Hunter-Ranyard. By
timely flight on Thursday, he had evaded her congratulations. Intuition
told him she would say things that jarred. Now he flicked Suraj with
the base intent of merely greeting her as he passed.

But she was a woman of experience and resource. She beckoned him airily
with her riding-crop.

"Mr Sinclair? What luck! I'm dying to hear how the 'March Past' went
off. Did you get thunders of applause?"

"Oh, thunders. The Monsoon variety!"

"I saw you all in the distance, coming in from my early ride. You looked
very imposing with your attendant aeroplanes!--May I?" She turned her
pony's head without awaiting permission, and rode beside him at a foot's
pace, clamouring for details.

He supplied them fluently, in the hope of heading her off personalities.
A vain hope: for personalities were her daily bread.

She took advantage of the first pause to ask, with an ineffable look:
"Are you still feeling _very_ shy of being engaged? You bolted on
Thursday. I hadn't a chance. And I'm rather _specially_ interested." The
look became almost caressing. "Did it ever occur to your exquisite
modesty, I wonder, that I rather wanted, you for _my_ cavalier. You
seemed so young--in experience, that I thought a little innocuous
education might be an advantage before you plunged. But she
snatched--oh, she did!--without seeming to lift an eyebrow, in her
inimitable way. Very clever. In fact, she's been distinctly clever all
round. She's eluded her 'coming man' on one side; and ructions over her
soldier man on the other----"

"Look here--I'm engaged to her," Roy protested, trying not to be aware
of a sick sensation inside. "And you know I hate that sort of talk----"

"I ought to, by this time!" She made tenderly apologetic eyes at him.
"But I'm afraid I'm incurable. Don't be angry, Sir Galahad! You've won
the Kohinoor; and although you seem to live in the clouds, you've had
the sense to make things _pukka_ straightaway. 'Understandings' and
private engagements are the root of all evil!"

"I'm blest if I know what you're driving at!" he flashed out, his temper
rising.

But she only laughed her tinkling laugh and shook her riding-whip at
him.

"_Souvent femme varie!_ Have you ever heard that, you blessed innocent?
And the general impression is--there's alrea