ious wrong-doing. Jesus Christ said, 'Thy sins
are forgiven thee, go and sin no more.'"

"I will do my best for you," said Honor quietly.

"God bless you--oh, God bless you and reward you! Brian is away for a
few days. I will let you know when he returns, and you can come to the
bungalow. Will you promise?"

"I promise," said Honor bravely. "But he is giving his services to the
war. He will be leaving shortly for the front?"

"I know it. And I shall follow him wherever he goes, like a dog, just to
be near and serve him. It is the least I can do. They want nurses at the
front."

They talked for a while longer and when they parted at the gate of the
Club, it was understood that Honor would accept an invitation to tea at
the Daltons' bungalow as soon as the doctor was back.

CHAPTER XXVII

A DIFFICULT TASK

The sun had long set and a grey dusk had fallen when Dalton, weary and
despondent, returned to the Station after a dull round of inspection
during which he had occupied comfortless _dak_ bungalows. Lights were
appearing in many windows and were to be seen streaming from the
reception rooms of the Club, where guests for the gala week were being
entertained. As he passed, he could hear the click of the billiard balls
and the sound of merry laughter. Somewhere in those lighted rooms was
Honor Bright, perhaps, shedding the sunshine of her presence on her
friends! His eyes strained wistfully to catch a glimpse of the beloved
form, but in vain, for the Duranta hedge effectually obscured the view.

Three days had passed since he had fled incontinently from the
impossible conditions of his home, only to find himself compelled, when
no further excuses for his absence were to be found, to return to it
bitterly disgusted with life and feverishly impatient to escape
altogether from an intolerable presence. One hope alone remained to him,
and that was, that the Government would accept his offer for service at
the front.

Although in his relations towards his wife he was almost a stranger, he
had paid her the compliment of letting her know the date and hour of his
return; not from any impulse towards friendliness, but from an
instinctive pride of race, which made it impossible for him to slight a
white woman in the eyes of the natives. However far apart their lives
were sundered, his servants, at least, would have to respect her as the
Memsahib and the mistress of his house; any other position for her--a
British