rse.

"Don't upset yourself, girlie," he said kindly. "The damage may be
less than we think for. I must stay here and help; but you must be a
good child, and ride on at once. You'll see her safe home for me,
won't you, Maurice?"

Michael acquiesced eagerly. Unrelieved tragedy upset his nerves. He
longed to escape from the consciousness of Quita's dumb despair; and
when Elsie had been induced to swallow a drop of brandy that would not
have warmed a sparrow, they rode off briskly through the sullen
downpour.

With a breath of relief, Colonel Mayhew went up to Honor Desmond, who
had just dismounted.

"What's that for?" he asked anxiously. "You and Miss Maurice are going
on too, of course."

Honor shook her head.

"But you can do no earthly good by waiting. We may be an hour or more
before we get up here again. It will be slow work, if . . . if Lenox
is alive;--and you will be drenched to the skin."

"There are worse evils than that!" she answered with gentle immobility.
"Don't trouble about me, please. I _must_ stay here till I know what
has happened; and I think Miss Maurice will wish to stay too. We shall
come to no harm. We women have nine lives, you know!"

"And if you will--you will. . . . I know that also! But at least take
a nip to keep out the damp. Your husband gave me this at the last
moment for the three of you."

"How like him to think of it!" she murmured, smiling unsteadily.

"Yes--it _was_ like him,"--and in the expansion of the moment the
warm-hearted Resident put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "He's a
deuced fine fellow, my dear, and he has found a wife that's worthy of
him."

Honor blushed rose-red, and took the proffered stimulant.

"I'll give Miss Maurice some too," she said. "Don't lose a second on
our account, please."

Thus urged, the good man hurried away; and Honor went straight to
Quita, whose unnatural apathy cut her to the heart.

"Miss Maurice, here's brandy," she said softly. "Drink all of it,
before I help you down."

Quita emptied the tumbler; and Honor, grasping her waist with both
hands, lifted her out of the saddle.

"How strong you are," she said, in the toneless voice of a
sleep-walker. Then her frozen anguish melted suddenly and completely.
For Honor Desmond, instead of releasing her, clasped her close, kissing
her, with passionate tenderness, on cheeks and brows, like wet marble:
and in the midst of her bewildered misery Quita realised dimly w