gets rather tired of it. I do not like the
affectation at all, but I dislike the reality still more. I believe it
_is_ a reality with Major Keene. I can not fancy him betraying any
unrestrained excitement, however strong the passion that moved him might
be. You have never known him do so, now? Confess it."

"Yes I have, once," he answered, gravely, "and I never wish to see it
again."

Cecil always liked talking to Harry Molyneux. On the present occasion
the mere sound of his voice seemed to go far toward soothing her
irritation: many others had experienced the same effect from those
kindly gentle tones. Perhaps, too, the subject had an interest for her
that she would not own. "Would it tire you to tell me about it? I am not
particularly curious, but I have been so much bored to-night that a very
little would amuse me."

He hesitated for an instant. "It is not _that_; but I don't know if _I_
am right in telling you. Perhaps you would not like him the better for
it, though he could not help it. Shall I? Well, it was in the second of
our Indian battles, and the first time we had really been under fire;
before it was only nominal. We had been sitting idle for two hours or
more, watching the infantry and the gunners do their work; and right
well they did it. The Sikhs were giving ground in all directions; but
they began to gather again on our right, and at last we were told to
send out three squadrons and break them at three different points. Keene
was in command of mine. I never saw him look so enchanted as he did when
the orders came down. I heard the chief warning him to be cautious, not
to go too far (for there was a good deal of broken ground ahead), but to
wheel about as soon as we had got through their lines, and to fall back
immediately on our position. Royston listened and saluted, but I know he
didn't catch one word; he kept looking over his shoulder all the time
the colonel was speaking, as if he grudged every second. We were very
soon off; and almost before I realized the situation we were closing in
on the enemy, wrapped up in our own dust and in their smoke, for the
firing became heavy directly we got within range. Now I don't think I
ought to be telling you all this: it is not quite a woman's story."

"Please go on. I like it." How grandly it flashed up in her cheek as she
spoke--the fiery Tresilyan blood that had boiled in the veins of so many
brilliant soldiers, but through twenty generations had never co