bted Noreen replied:

"Muriel has left Darjeeling."

"Left Darjeeling? Where for? Where has she gone?" he exclaimed in
surprise.

"To her father."

"But why? She wasn't to have left for weeks yet," said Wargrave.

Mrs. Dermot looked at him angrily.

"Why? Need you ask? I should have thought commonsense would have told
you. I don't think we'll talk about it, please. As I said before, I've
washed my hands of the whole affair."

Further conversation on the subject was rendered impossible by the
irruption of her children, who rushed at Wargrave and reproached him for
not being to see them lately.

During the next few days Violet baffled every attempt that Frank made to
discuss their future course of action. The constant succession of
gaieties, the balls, theatricals, concerts, races, _gymkhanas_, that
filled every afternoon and evening of the Darjeeling Season, took up all
her time. Whenever he tried to talk matters over with her she invariably
replied that there was no hurry, even when he pointed out that Major
Norton might arrive any day in consequence of her letter. That he had
not already done so was inexplicable to Wargrave; and the subaltern
could only believe her assurance that her husband accepted her loss with
equanimity. It never occurred to Frank to doubt that she had written the
letter.

But one morning matters came to a crisis. When Violet and Wargrave
returned to the hotel from their ride before breakfast a telegram was
handed to the latter. He found it to be an official message from Colonel
Dermot, which ran:

"Please return forthwith to Ranga Duar. I start for Europe on sick
leave to-day."

Frank stared at it in surprise. He had heard nothing of his superior
officer being ill. It must be something very serious to necessitate his
being sent to Europe. The news was an unpleasant shock to him; for he
genuinely liked and respected the Political Officer.

Then it occurred to him that this order to return brought everything to
a head. Violet saw that he was perturbed.

"What is it, Frank?" she asked.

"I'll tell you upstairs, dear," he said.

In her sitting-room he handed her the telegram.

"I must leave to-day. Will you be ready to come with me?" he asked.

"What? To-day? My dear boy, it's impossible," she replied.

"But I must go. You see, it's imperative. The Colonel's already gone."

"Yes, I see you must. But--well, I simply couldn't be ready," said
Violet calmly. "Besides, I'm