d Wargrave, seizing his arm.

The adjutant burst out:

"It's a damned shame, old man. I'm sorry."

"But what is it? What is it, I say?" cried Wargrave, shaking him.

The adjutant nodded his head towards the big photograph on the
writing-table.

"It's Mrs. Norton," he said.

"Mrs. Norton?" echoed his friend. "What the--what's she got to do with
it?"

Raymond threw himself into a chair.

"Someone's been making mischief. The C.O.'s been told that there might
be a scandal so he's got scared lest trouble should come to him."

Frank stared blankly at the speaker, then suddenly turned and walked out
of the bungalow. The pony was standing huddled into the patch of shade
at the side of the house, the _syce_ squatting on the ground at its head
and holding the reins. Wargrave sprang into the saddle and galloped out
of the compound. Raymond ran to the verandah and saw him thundering down
the sandy road that led to the residency.

Arrived at the big white building Frank pulled up his panting pony on
its haunches and dismounting threw the reins over its head and left it
unattended.

Walking to the hall door he cried:

"_Koi hai_?"

A drowsy _chuprassi_ at the back of the hall sprang up and hurried to
receive him.

"_Memsahib hai_? (Is the mistress in?)"

"_Hai, sahib_. (Yes, sir)" said the servant salaaming.

Wargrave was free of the house and, taking off his hat, went into the
cool hall and walked up the great staircase. He entered the
drawing-room. After the blinding glare outside the closely-shuttered
apartment seemed so dark that at first it was difficult for him to see
if it were tenanted or not. But it was empty; and he paced the floor
impatiently, frowning in chaotic thought.

"Good morning, Frank. You are early to-day. And what a bad temper you
seem to be in!" exclaimed a laughing voice; and Mrs. Norton, looking
radiant and delightfully cool in a thin white Madras muslin dress,
entered the room.

He went to her.

"They're sending me away, Violet," he said.

"Sending you away?" she repeated in an astonished tone. "Sending you
where?"

"To hell, I think," he cried. "Oh, I beg your pardon. I mean--yes,
they're sending me away from Rohar, from you. Sending me to the other
side of India."

The blood slowly left her face as she stared uncomprehendingly at him.

"Sending you away? Why?" she asked.

"Because--because we're friends, little girl."

"Because we're friends," she echoed. "What do you mea