agement I stayed at home in case you might be
glad to have some one to 'play with' after your long lesson was over."

"Just like you!" he declared, with a touch of brotherly frankness,
which was peculiarly pleasing to this brother-loving girl. "I've been
rather overdoing the Persian this week. You must give me some
Beethoven presently. And if you really mean to 'play with' me you must
also leave off looking so aggressively industrious."

His eyes rested, in speaking, on the rapid movement of her needle, and
he became suddenly aware of the nature of her work.

"Look here, Honor," he exclaimed. "I draw the line at that! Ladybird
ought not to allow it. We've no right to turn you into a domestic
drudge."

"Ladybird--as you so delightfully call her--knows me far too well to
try and stop me when she sees I mean to have my own way! Shall you
mind if I go shares in your special name for her? It suits her even
better than her own."

"Yes, it seems to express her, somehow--doesn't it?"

An unconscious tenderness invaded his tone, and his glance turned upon
a panel photograph of his wife in her wedding-dress that stood near
him on the mantelpiece. Watching it thus, he fell into a thoughtful
silence, which Honor made no attempt to break. Speaking or silent his
companionship was equally acceptable to her: and while she awaited
his pleasure a great hole, made by the removal of one of Evelyn's
"lattice windows," filled up apace.

Of a sudden he turned from the picture, and, drawing up a low chair,
sat down before her, leaning a little forward, his elbow resting on
his knee. The urgency and gravity of his bearing made her at once lay
down her work.

"Honor," he began, "I'm bothered ... about Ladybird, ... that's the
truth. I wonder if I can speak without fear of your misunderstanding
me?"

"Try me! I am only too glad to help her in any way."

His intense look softened to a smile.

"You've made that clear enough already. I begin to wonder what she
will do when John comes back to claim you again. You so thoroughly
understand her, and thoroughly--love her."

"She is a creature born to be loved."

"_And_ to be kept happy," he added very quietly. "But the vital
question is whether that is at all possible in Kohat, or in any other
of our stations; for Kohat is by no means the worst. She hates the
place, doesn't she? She's counting the days to get away to the Hills.
You know you can't look me straight in the face and say she