ould talk of her all night, and get no nearer. She is an
angel from heaven."

"Question is, has she made up her mind at last--no more
shilly-shallying? Hope I don't intrude in asking it."

"Made up her mind---- Are you trying to throw doubts----? Oh, I see.
But it's a thousand years since then, Bob. You yourself could have no
doubt, if you saw her."

"All right; I'm quite satisfied. If a doleful beggar like yourself can
feel free from doubt----"

"I could no more doubt her than the sun at noon. Bob, I'll tell you.
She will go with me to Central India when Sir Edmund goes."

Charteris sat up in his chair. "Nonsense!" he said sharply. "What
folly is this? You are talking of leaving Granthistan?"

"I had made up my mind to it before you came to me this afternoon, and
she agrees with me that it is the right thing."

"My dear fellow, you don't know. I was talking to the G.-G.'s military
secretary to-night, and he let slip that there would be a local
majority for you at the next distribution of honours. If you leave
Granthistan, of course that falls through."

"Then I must wait till it comes in the natural course of things."

"You don't seem to realise that Sir Arthur's influence won't help you
outside Granthistan, and will be very little use in any line but the
military. What's taken you?"

"It's simply that I mean to stick to Sir Edmund. My views as to the
treatment of the natives were learnt from him, and I can work better
with him than with our Mr James, much as I respect him."

"James Antony is the coming man, and the man for me. But if you will
choose the losing side--why, I suppose you must. It's like her, too."

"It is, indeed--since she chose me and not you. Bob, I'm still lost in
wonder over that."

Charteris moved impatiently. "Shows her wisdom. I don't mind telling
you, Hal--it may make you more comfortable to hear it--that I had
misgivings. Not about my own happiness--Heaven knows that I could ask
nothing better--but whether I could make her happy. I can't spout
Tennyson to her, or appreciate her pretty little German tales about
knights and water-nymphs--the _New Sporting Magazine_ and _Lays of
Ancient Rome_ are more my number. Evidently I am cut out for pacifying
Darwan rather than for domestic joys. And after all, two years ago I
would have given my ears to be where I am now. You have Honour, and I
have honours, you see"--with a fairly creditable laugh--"and so
everything