hen
conscious of gathering storm, she turned hurriedly to her husband.

"What were you and Dick shaking hands about at this time of day!" he
asked as the door closed upon his subaltern.

She had meant to tell him as a matter of course. But something in his
tone roused her fatal spirit of perversity--and up went her chin into
the air.

"We were striking a bargain. Have you any objection?"

"No. Not the smallest. Would it be any use if I had?"

She paused, weighing the question.

"I don't think it would. Petty tyranny of that kind is the last thing
I could put up with; the last thing one would expect from you."

"Quite so. At the same time--marriage means compromise. You
understand?"

"When a man says that he usually implies that the woman will do most of
the compromising, in order that he may have his own way."

"Within limits, a man has a certain right to his own way in his own
house."

"And generally gets it!" she answered lightly.

Lenox shrugged his shoulders, and going over to the easel, contemplated
in silence the living likeness of his friend: while Quita, watching
him, was increasingly aware of slumbering electricity that might at any
moment break into a lightning-flash of speech.

"It's good. Don't you think so?" she asked on a tentative note of
conciliation.

"Of course it is. Damned good," he answered gruffly.

"Eldred! Even if you _are_ in a bad mood, you might control your
language."

"I beg your pardon. It's exceedingly good. But you've had it long
enough on hand. Shall you finish it to-day?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"Because, though Dick isn't quite up to duty yet, he's fit to be back
at mess again and in his own bungalow."

"Has he said anything about it?"

"No."

"And do you propose to tell him outright that he has been here long
enough?"

"What I propose to say to him is my own affair. You needn't distress
yourself on his account. Dick and I understand one another perfectly."

"No doubt you do. But after all, I am his hostess, and though you may
not object to being flagrantly inhospitable, _I_ do--very strongly.
Besides, why should you be in such a hurry to turn him out? Are you
annoyed again because we happen to be good friends and enjoy one
another's society? I thought you were above that sort of thing."

The suggestion of scorn in her tone pricked him past endurance. He
turned upon her sharply; and his eyes took on their blue of steel.

"I am not