nd with a rebellious crumpling of her forehead Evelyn obeyed.

"I am afraid the Major's news must have been rather a shock to you,
Miss Meredith," Desmond went on, as their horses mounted the slope.
"But we've all been expecting it this long while. He takes too little
leave and steadily overworks himself, ... that's the truth. But then,
... you should see what he's done for the regiment in the last ten
years!"

The spark of enthusiasm in the man's tone struck an answering spark
from his companion.

"That's the true way to look at it," she declared warmly. "So many
people simply call him a fool. It's the fashion to sneer at enthusiasm
in these days."

"We don't sneer at it in this part of the world," Desmond replied with
quiet emphasis. "I see now why the Major said I should find you the
right sort for the Frontier and a help to ... my Evelyn. I have
transplanted her to a very rough soil, I only hope she's fit to stand
it."

"_I_ think so. She has been too carefully sheltered till now; and it's
just a matter of adapting herself to fresh conditions. You may count
on me to do all I can for her while I am here."

"Your name is sufficient guarantee for that!" he answered simply; and
the implied compliment to her brother quickened every pulse in her
body.

They parted at Major Meredith's gate, Desmond promising to report the
result of the final contest on his way home; and the girl sat watching
him thoughtfully till a dip in the road hid him from view.

CHAPTER III.

THE BIG CHAPS.

"Love that is loud or light in all men's ears,
* * * * *
That binds on all men's feet, or chains, or wings."
--SWINBURNE.

Honor woke early, springing from dreamless sleep to alert wakefulness,
as is the way of vivid natures, and the first sight that greeted her
was the huddled form of Parbutti, her chin between her knees, her dark
eyes bright and watchful.

Honor's smile was answered by a flash of light across the old woman's
face as she arose and salaamed to the ground.

"Behold, while the Miss Sahib slept like a little child, I have laid
out the riding-gear as of custom, and now I go to prepare the
_terail_[5] for _chota hazri_.[6] They are not ill folk in this
compound, Hazur; and there goes but one word among them, that our
Sahib is a diamond fit for a king's turban, understanding the heart of
black men, giving n