er
than a check upon the dare-devil strain in her, which was responsible
for her odd mingling of folly and heroic self-devotion.

Before the ladies left the table, the success and thoroughness of the
expedition was proposed with cheers; followed by a second toast, drunk
in silence, to the memory of the three men who had been alive in their
midst less than a month ago: and later in the evening--when the
Ollivers, Richardson, and Courtenay were absorbed in whist, and Honor
had gone out with Lenox into the garden, where a late moon was
rising--Desmond lured Quita to the piano at the far end of the room by
asking her to sing.

At the close of the second song, he leaned his elbow on the top of the
instrument, and stood so, searching her face with such discomposing
directness that a burning wave of colour submerged her, and she dropped
her eyes.

"I don't believe you ever criticised me till to-night, Major Desmond,"
she murmured, striking soft chords at random with her left hand.

"Not since I really came to know you," he answered in the same tone.
"You have never given me cause."

"Well--I don't like it."

"Few of us do. You prefer indiscriminate admiration?"

The flush deepened, but she looked up.

"I prefer your approval to your disapproval," she said, still moving
her hand over the notes. "But I have always gone my own way; and I
warn you that nothing rouses the devil in me like being scolded or
dictated to."

"My dear Quita, I have no right nor wish to do either. I only want to
ask you a question or two--if I may?"

"What about?"

"Your husband. He won't consult Courtenay; and I am getting anxious.
Would you mind telling me about how much sleep he has had this last
week?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"As far as I know he hardly ever comes to bed at all."

"Quita, you are exaggerating!"

"I only mean, it's no use asking me for accurate information."

"But do you know that insomnia's a serious thing--especially for him?"

"Yes. I made a fuss when he first began working late. It's bad for
him and a nuisance for me. But I have given that up now. He's as
obstinate as I am about going his own way. It's almost the only
quality we share in common."

"Don't you feel it might be worth trying again?"

"Possibly. If _you_ think I ought."

Desmond's eyes twinkled at the implied compliment.

"I do think it."

She sighed.

"Oh, well,--I don't promise, and we've had enough of the dismal subject