nce.

"When--when is Horatio coming?" Christine asked him presently.

"I don't know for certain. The cable said Monday, but it may be later
or even earlier."

She looked at him. His shoulders were drooping, his face turned away
from her.

There was an agony of indecision in her heart. She did not want to
make things harder for him than was absolutely necessary; and yet she
clung fast to her pride--the pride that seemed to be whispering to her
to refuse--not to give in to him. She stared into the fire, her eyes
blurred still with tears.

"I suppose he'll stop your allowance if he knows?" she said at last,
with an odd little mirthless laugh.

Jimmy flushed.

"I wasn't thinking of that," he said quickly. "I don't care a hang
what he does; but--but--well, I would have liked him to _think_ things
were all right between us, anyway."

He waited a moment. "Of course, if you can't," he said then, jaggedly,
"if you feel that you can't I'll tell him the truth. It will be the
only way out of it."

A second honeymoon! Christine's own words seemed to ring in her ears
mockingly.

She had never had a honeymoon at all yet. That week in London had been
only a nightmare of tears and disillusionment and heartbreak. If it
meant going through it all again----

She got up suddenly and went to stand beside Jimmy. She was quite
close to him, but she did not touch him, though it would have seemed
the most natural thing in all the world just at that moment to slip a
hand through his arm or to lay her cheek to the rough serge of his
coat. She had been so proud of him, had loved him so much; and yet now
she seemed to be looking at him and speaking to him across a yawning
gulf which neither of them were able to bridge.

"Jimmy, if--if I do--if I come back to you--just for a little while, so
that--so that your brother won't ever know, you won't--you won't try
and keep me--afterwards? You won't--you won't try and force me to stay
with you, will you?"

"I give you my word of honour. I don't know how to thank you. I--I'm
not half good enough for you. I don't deserve that you should ever
give me a thought; I'm such an awful rotter," said Jimmy Challoner,
with a break in his voice. He tried to take her hand, but she drew
back.

"It's only--only friends we're going to be," she whispered.

He choked back a lump in his throat.

"Only friends, of course," he echoed, trying to speak cheerily. He
knew what she meant; kne