ced him bravely, though the affectation
of polite interest in her tones was very difficult to keep up.

"You can't pretend not to understand--after everything----"

"But it might not be----"

"Oh no, no!" the pain in his voice brought the tears to her eyes.
"Don't say it's some one else! I could have given you up to him, but
not---- You know something of what he is; there is no braver or better
fellow in India, and now that his name is known, there's no saying how
far he will go. You could not have refused him--unless----"

Honour was opening and closing recklessly the cameo clasp that fastened
her black velvet bracelet. "Did you come here to plead Major
Charteris's cause?" she asked in a very small voice. "What if I--if I
told you your--your pleading had convinced me?"

"I should say you had chosen the better man," said Gerrard steadily.

A hand touched his for a moment, and was snatched away immediately. "I
have chosen the better man," murmured Honour. "But it is not Major
Charteris," and the hand allowed itself to be captured.

"I was certain of it!" cried Gerrard triumphantly. Honour withdrew her
hand hastily. "Certain? certain of what?" she demanded. Gerrard was
horrified.

"Miss Cinnamond--Honour--my dearest one--what have I done? I am an
unlucky fellow! Have I offended you?"

"You said you were certain," explained Honour, with impatient
deliberateness. "What were you certain of?"

"Why, that you could not have refused Charteris--splendid fellow that
he is, and with all his honours and successes--unless there was a
little sneaking kindness in your heart for some one else, and I hoped
it might be for a poor wretched failure who has nothing to lay at your
feet beyond his love and fidelity."

Honour surrendered her hand again. "You are so absurd!" she said, with
a catch in her voice. "Of course, if pity is all you want----"

"Pity is not to be despised. It made a good beginning----"

"It did not!" cried Honour sharply. "How blind you are! And I thought
you understood! When you came to the Residency in the rains, were you
to be pitied then?"

"I thought so. You would hardly look at me."

"Oh, stupid! how could I?"

"You had begun to care then? But, dearest, how could I guess? You
talked about nothing but Charteris."

"It was the only way I could get you to talk about yourself. You had
to tell me little bits about your own doings when you were describing
all he had done."