to Mrs. Bright who was busy
organising a bridge party in the Ladies' Room.

Mrs. Bright looked surprised. Doubtful thoughts flashed through her
mind,--fear of gossip, reluctance to stand in the way of innocent
pleasure, and wonder that the doctor should have shown a sudden
inclination towards sociability. Seeing a critical expression lurking in
Mrs. Ironsides' eye her dignity was immediately in arms.

"Certainly, darling, but don't be late. Mind you wrap up properly," she
returned cordially. Mrs. Ironsides would have to appreciate the fact
that Honor had her mother's fullest trust and confidence. However,
throughout the ensuing rubber she could not avoid mentally speculating
on the possibility of the most eligible bachelor in the District
beginning to consider her child from a matrimonial point of view.

Miss Bright passed out into the darkness with Captain Dalton, her eyes
shining with a new beauty, and Tommy watched her, filled with dismay.
What was the meaning of it? Honor with the doctor, of all men! The
doctor paying Honor marked attentions, and she accepting them with sweet
graciousness! He forgot to pull at his cigar which went out while he
stared into the night with eyes that saw only the look in the girl's
eyes as she walked beside Dalton towards his car.

The motor drive was repeated occasionally, and it became an ordinary
event for Honor to shoot duck on the Panipara Jhil in his company. "It
is better than tramping the _jhil_ alone," Mrs. Bright said, when the
subject was mentioned in her presence. "I have always felt anxious while
she has been absent on her snipe-shooting expeditions alone, but am so
much easier in mind now that the doctor has taken charge of her. He is
such an unerring shot, I am told; and she is learning to be so careful
under his guidance."

It was the least of the lessons Honor learned from the doctor. He taught
her the delights of a perfect companionship founded on mutual love; a
man's reverence for the woman he respects: a complete knowledge of her
own heart; its power of devotion, its great depths, and stores of
feeling.

Sometimes Ray Meredith joined them in his fleeting visits to the
Station--a lonely and pathetic being, in need of companionship, and
grateful for friendly attentions. His wife wrote regularly, he said, and
she and the child were well. Otherwise, he spoke little of his absent
family. Sometimes Tommy would meet them on the _jhil_ and share their
picnic luncheon.