part the matter to the
Sahib. "For he sitteth much occupied, and his countenance is not
favourable this morning."

Honor complied, with a half-smile at the irony of her own position,
which, until to-day, she had accepted without after-thought, and which
of a sudden seemed unendurable.

Desmond, much engrossed in regimental concerns, and anxious to get off
to the Lines, was inclined to irritability and abruptness; and the
delinquent, who, with his charger ready saddled, awaited the Sahib's
displeasure in the front verandah suffered accordingly. He bowed,
trembling, to the ground, and let the storm sweep over his head;
making no defence beyond a disarming reiteration of his own
worthlessness, and of his everlasting devotion to the Protector of the
Poor.

Turning back to the hall for his helmet, Desmond encountered Honor in
the doorway, and his wrath gave place to a smile of good fellowship
that brought the blood into her cheeks.

"Hope my volcanics didn't horrify you," he said apologetically. "It
seems almost as cowardly to fly out at those poor chaps as to strike a
child; but they have a genius for tripping one up at critical
moments."

He paused, and scanned her face with kindly anxiety. "You're all right
again now? Not troubled any more--eh?"

"No. I'm perfectly well. Don't bother your head about me, please. You
have so much more important things to think about."

Her colour deepened; and she turned so hastily away that, in spite of
his impatience to be gone, Desmond stood looking after her with a
troubled crease between his brows. Then he swung round on his heel,
vaulted into the saddle, and straightway forgot everything except the
engrossing prospect of the campaign.

But for all his preoccupation, he had not failed to note the
wistfulness in Evelyn's dutifully smiling eyes. He was more than
usually tender with her on his return, and successfully banished the
wistfulness by giving up his polo to take her for a ride. Honor stood
watching them go, through tears which rose unbidden from the depth of
her lonely grief, her haunting sense of disloyalty to the two she
loved. She dashed them impatiently aside the instant they moistened
her lashes; and betook herself for an hour's rest and refreshment to
Mrs Jim Conolly,--"Mrs Jim" was her station name,--whose open-hearted
love and admiration would give her a much-needed sense of support.

She entered her friend's drawing-room without formal announcement, to
find