es was shocked.

"I hope Mrs. Meredith will not go home so soon," she said. "It will be a
pity, when she and her husband have been so lately married. Somebody
should influence her to remain and give the hills a trial. They seem to
suit children very well."

"If she goes home it will be nothing short of a calamity," said Honor
quietly, thinking of Ray Meredith's devotion and his wife's
unsophisticated and undeveloped mind. "It would never do unless she
means to return immediately."

"A child of tender years needs its mother," said a lady whose heart
yearned for her little one in England. "No stranger will give it the
same sympathy or care."

"It is a difficult problem to which there is no solution," said Mrs.
Bright.

"I always feel, when I see a wife living for years at home while her
husband remains out here, that there is no love lost between them. The
children serve as an excellent excuse for the separation," said Honor,
colouring at her own audacity in voicing an opinion so pronounced. "No
reason on earth should be strong enough to part those who care deeply
for each other."

"Hear, hear!" murmured Tommy under his breath, while Mrs. Fox laughed
disagreeably. "An excellent sentiment coming from you, Miss Bright, who
have no experience. Long may you subscribe to it."

Honor blushed still deeper. "I have my ideals," she returned.

"I trust they will never be shattered!" the lady sneered.

Again Dalton's eyes met Honor's with strange intentness. Feeling out of
her depth she had looked involuntarily to him for the subtle sympathy,
instinct told her was in his attitude to her, and she had received it
abundantly in the slow smile which softened his expression to one of
absolute kindness. It created a glow at her heart, to linger with her
for the rest of the evening.

"Whenever I used to run home on short 'leave of absence' to see if Honor
had not altogether forgotten me," said Mrs. Bright, smiling
reminiscently, "and dared to hint at an extension, my husband would
squander all his T.A. in cablegrams threatening to divorce me on the
spot in favour of some mythical person if I did not return by the next
mail. Wasn't that so, dear?"

"Gross exaggeration, my love. I could never get you to take a
respectable holiday, for just as I was beginning to enjoy my liberty as
a grass-widower, you would bob up serenely with 'No, you don't' on every
line of your rosy face. It was worth anything, however, to see those
Englis