int that Paul entered the room.

Mackay turned on him a face of open jubilation.

"Congratulate me, Wyndham! I've secured Miss Meredith's services for
Desmond."

"Thank God," Paul answered fervently; and he thanked Honor also with
his eyes.

"I shall move into the bungalow myself after the funeral, and give you
what help I can. He will need a good deal of companionship to keep him
from chafing at his helplessness. He wished the Boy to be brought here
and buried from his house. I am making all arrangements; and we shall
be round quite early in the morning. Can I see Desmond again
to-night?"

Mackay pursed his lips.

"He'll do best with just the women-folk this evening. Look in after
Mess, if you like--last thing."

"Was Evelyn with him when you left?" Honor asked suddenly, a flash of
apprehension in her tone.

"No."

"I must go and see what has come to her," she said, visibly disturbed.
"I shall see you both after Mess."

She hurried out, and listened intently at the study door. No sound
broke the stillness; and with an aching dread at her heart she passed
on to the next door.

The brief dusk of India was already almost spent; and finding Evelyn's
room in semi-darkness, she paused on the threshold.

"Are you there, dear?" she called softly; and was answered by a
stifled sound from the region of the bed, where Evelyn lay prone, her
face buried in the pillows. At that Honor came forward, and laid a
firm though a not unkindly hand upon her.

"Evelyn, this is childish selfishness. Get up and go to him at once."

The sole answer vouchsafed to her was a vehement shaking of the fair
head; a fresh paroxysm of distress.

"My dear--my dear," she urged, bending down and speaking more softly,
"you _must_ pull yourself together. This is no time to think of your
own trouble. He is wounded, anxious, and terribly unhappy and--he
wants you. Do you call this being a loyal wife? Remember, you
promised----"

Thus appealed to, Evelyn lifted her head, supporting it on one elbow,
and showed a grief-disfigured face.

"Yes, I know. But--couldn't you go to him, just for now, Honor? You're
not upset, like I am;--and say I--I'll come when I'm better."

Honor went white to the lips.

"No, Evelyn," she said, her anger rising as she went on. "There are
things that even _I_ must refuse to do for you. I have done all that
is in my power; but I _will_ not take your place with--your husband."

Astonishment checked Evelyn's sobb