"Theo," she whispered, kneeling down by him, "is it any good trying to speak to you now? Will you believe that--I am ever so sorry? I have been miserable all night; and I am not frightened any more,--see!" In token of sincerity she caressed his empty coat-sleeve. "Will you please--forgive me? Will you?" "With all my heart, Ladybird," he answered quietly. "But it's no use speaking. A thing like that can't be explained away. It is simply wiped off the slate--you understand?" And almost before the words were out she had kissed him. Then she slid down into a sitting position, one arm flung lightly across the rug that covered him. In that instant the thunder of three successive volleys shook the house; and heart-stirring trumpet-notes sounded the Last Post. With a small shudder Evelyn shrank closer to her husband, resting her head against his chair; and Desmond lay watching her in silent wonderment at the tangle of moods and graces which, for lack of a truer word, must needs be called her character. He wondered also how much might have been averted if she had come to him thus yesterday instead of to-day. Impossible to guess. He could only wrench his thoughts away from the forbidden subject; and try to beat down the strong new yearning that possessed him, by occasionally stroking his wife's hair. It is when we most crave for bread that life has this ironical trick of presenting us with a stone. * * * * * Honor, in the meanwhile, had reached Mrs Conolly's bungalow. She found her in the drawing-room arranging flower-vases, and equipped for her morning ride. "Honor? You? How delightful!" Then catching a clearer view of the girl's face: "My dear--what is it?" Honor smiled. "I am afraid you were going out," she said, evading the question. "Certainly I was; but I am not going now. It is evident that you want me." "Yes--I want you." Mrs Jim called out an order to the waiting _sais_; and followed Honor, who had gone over to the mantelpiece, and buried her face in the cool fragrance of a cluster of Gloire de Dijons. Mrs Conolly took her gently by the arm. "I can't have you looking like that, my child," she said. "Your eyes are like saucers, with indigo shadows under them. Did you sleep a wink last night?" "Not many winks; that's why I am here." "I see. You must be cruelly anxious about Captain Desmond, as we all are; but I _will not_ believe that the worst can happen." "No--oh no!" Honor spoke as if she were beating off an enemy. "But the trouble that kept me awake was--Evelyn." "Ah! Is the strain going to be too much for her? Come to the sofa, dear, and tell me the whole difficulty." Honor hesitated. She had her own reasons for wishing to avoid Mrs Conolly's too sympathetic scrutiny. "You sit down," she said. "I feel too restless. I would rather speak first." And with a hint of inward perplexity Mrs Conolly obeyed.