"She's a simple little thing," said the first speaker charitably. "I
shouldn't imagine there was any harm in her."

"'Still waters run deep,'" quoted Mrs. Fox.

"There is another instructive proverb I could quote," cried Honor
striking savagely at a ball.

"And what is that?" from Mrs. Fox.

"About 'glass houses and stones.'"

"If that is meant for me, thanks, awfully! But so many panes have
already been broken, that I am most indifferent to stones," Mrs. Fox
returned languidly as she smiled on the company, who laughed in
embarrassment.

"So it would appear," murmured Mrs. Ironsides to a friend.

"Hateful creature!" Honor snapped in Tommy's ear as he handed her a
ball.

Jack, playing on the other side with Mr. Ironsides for his partner, had
deteriorated so much of late that Tommy and Honor, who had both a
genuine regard for him, were much exercised in mind.

He had lost his frank look and easy good-humour; was rarely to be seen
at the Club without Mrs. Fox, whom he usually drove down in a side car
attached to his motor cycle, a recent purchase,--and was no longer the
same man. A constraint had arisen between him and his chum who poured
out his fears to Honor in the hope of receiving advice and comfort, but
he had succeeded only in alarming her.

"Can't anything be done to save him, Tommy?"

"I can't think of anything, unless Meredith gets him transferred at
once."

"But who's to suggest that?"

"His wife, I should think; otherwise some day there might be an unholy
row. Fox is no fool. I dare say he is biding his time. He was fond of
Bobby Smart and got him out of this while there was time, but he may
prefer to sacrifice Jack."

"How terrible!" Honor was sincerely afraid for Jack. He was too young to
be mixed up in such a bad business, and Mrs. Fox was clever enough to
play him like a fish till he was landed.

Honor walked home at dusk escorted as far as her door by Tommy. It was
her intention to call on Joyce after dinner with a proposition
concerning the transfer of Jack from Muktiarbad. It seemed the only
thing left to do. Incidentally, she would repeat her warnings to her
friend concerning herself, for which she expected no thanks. Still, it
had galled her badly listening to the coarse remarks of Station people
at the Club. She would speak, however disagreeable the task.

At nine o'clock when she reached the Bara Koti she discovered that Joyce
was not in. Usually, she returned from her drive a