contradictions in the way of healthy
appetite, indifferent pronunciation, and dubious finery. Of course he
recovered the illusion, as he had recovered the measles, and, moreover,
allowed his fancy a few other experimental flights before he encountered
Carol Silver.

The introduction was made by Harry Burnley at the time when, let loose
from Sandhurst, their movements hung on the voice of the _Gazette_; it
was made with reluctance, for Harry was well versed in his friend's
inflammability, and had himself for Carol more than a brotherly regard.
However, the day was Sunday, and opportunities for detaching himself
from Tyndall being scarce, Harry could but pursue his customary route to
the Silvers' house, accompanied by his friend and guest.

But Yate Tyndall was not thrust under fire without warning.

"She's an awfully nice girl," jerked his chum, as they crunched the
gravelled drive to the house; "but it's no good fooling around in that
quarter--everyone knows she's gone on Rosser, some say engaged, but I
don't think it's come to that."

"What's he in?" questioned Yate, soldier-like believing that every man
that is a man and not a vegetable must be "in" something.

"Oh, he's waiting for the _Gazette_ as we are. He scraped in through the
militia, as much to his own amazement as to everyone else's."

Yate's opinion of Miss Silver's suitor shrivelled.

He was himself a mightily clever youngster who had passed into Sandhurst
straight from the schoolroom. Perhaps fate had favoured him in providing
on the mother's side some German profundity and on the father's a sturdy
vertebral column and proportionate wrappings of British muscle; perhaps
it had not, for inside the profundity was a luxuriant growth of romance,
and through the British muscle coursed subdued but dangerous fires.

"He's a good-looking chap," explained Harry--for Rosser was an old
friend--"a dashing rider, and a capital shot--everyone likes him."

"Lucky fellow," grunted Yate. "I've often observed that the failures are
quite the most popular."

"Because it's their popularity that does for them." Harry, who had
occupied a humble position on the nethermost hem of the Sandhurst list,
was conscious that his own anxiety for cavalry was due rather to the
"beggars can't be choosers" system of the idle and popular ones than to
a direct equestrian penchant.

"And women pet them; they'd prefer a fool who can pot rabbits and do a
barn-dance to Homer himself," gr