He relapsed into sulky silence and
devoted himself to his plate with appetite. Honor Bright wanted no
better evidence of the fact that he was heart-whole, though she
continued to wonder whose was the photograph he was treasuring so
sentimentally.

Dinner progressed through its many courses towards dessert, when toasts
were drunk to "Absent Ones," and "Sweethearts and Wives,"--the usual
conclusion to dinners at the Brights'; then, with a loud scraping of
chairs, the ladies rose and filed out of the room.

Later, when the gentlemen appeared having finished their smokes, it was
discovered that Captain Dalton had retired. He had excused himself to
his host on the plea of a late visit to his patient at Sombari, three
miles out, and was gone.

"Dear, dear!" sighed Mrs. Bright. "How very disappointing! Evidently he
had no intention of singing tonight, and I hear he has such a divine
voice!"

"But we don't begrudge that poor girl his attention when she is so ill,"
put in Mrs. Ironsides.

"Indeed, no. I wonder how she is."

"Pretty bad, from all accounts," said Mr. Bright.

"Her poor mother must be distracted. The only real happiness she has in
life is the companionship of this only child. Mr. Meek is so
narrow-minded and autocratic in domestic life. He must be sorry now that
he deprived the child of so many opportunities of innocent amusement."

"Not at all," said a guest. "He will congratulate himself that he kept
her unspotted from the world. Muktiarbad is his idea of unadulterated
godlessness. We are such a bad example to his converts, you know, with
our tennis on Sundays!"

"Poor little Elsie! I hope she will recover," said Mrs. Bright.

Honor felt a distinct sense of depression when she heard that Captain
Dalton had gone quietly away without even a hint to herself that he had
had no intention of staying. It was clear that he had no interest in
remaining; his excuse she disregarded, for he could have visited Sombari
earlier in the evening when he knew that he was engaged to dine out. She
believed he liked her ... but he was "not seeking to marry her," as he
had said to Joyce in camp, so it was her duty to rise above the folly of
thinking too much of a man who would never be anything more to her than
a mere acquaintance. With a determined effort to stifle feelings of
wounded pride and disappointment, she ordered Tommy to the piano to
beguile the company with ragtime ditties at which he was past-master,
and while