the latest Tennyson she
revealed herself to him almost as freely as of old. James Antony
agonized his wife by portentous nods and winks behind their backs,
indicative of the complete and final understanding now in course of
accomplishment, but Mrs Antony was not so well satisfied, though she was
unaware of the exact nature of the rift in Gerrard's lute. One day
Honour broke into a deep discussion of the social and educational topics
touched on in the _Princess_ with a question which had no relation to
them whatever. It was clear that her thoughts were far from Gerrard's
exposition of his views, or why should she suddenly have asked how long
it took him to reach Charteris at Kardi with the guns after receiving his
note entreating him to hasten? Gerrard set his teeth. It was Charteris,
then. He answered the question fully, and also the others by which it
was followed. Honour's curiosity on the subject of the unauthorised
operations in Agpur seemed insatiable, and bit by bit she drew from him
the whole history of the campaign. Following her lead, he made a loyal
endeavour to keep Charteris in the forefront of his narrative, smiling
bitterly to himself when once or twice she questioned him directly about
his own doings. This was mere politeness, of course, it was Charteris in
whom she was really interested.

The irony of his own anticipations struck Gerrard forcibly after a
fortnight or so principally spent in talking about Charteris. Outside
the air was filled with wars and rumours of wars, with reports that the
Granthi army was moving on Ranjitgarh, or that this or the other Sirdar
was about to cut the communications with Agpur, and in the society of
James Antony and his intimates these were the topics that everybody
discussed. But spending the mid-day hours in the damp heat of the
drawing-room, where paper grew mouldy and the covers peeled off books,
under the influence of the rains, with Mrs Antony occupied at a discreet
distance with reading or letter-writing, Gerrard endured what would have
been martyrdom but for the bitter-sweet sense of Honour's
presence--possessing which he could not be wholly miserable. Continually
there forced itself on him the change in her since the days when they had
lamented together the supposed death of Charteris. She was restless,
prone to a curious impatience, and the literary interests which had first
drawn them together satisfied her no more. Only one explanation could
fit