But on opening the study door he hesitated, dreading the necessity for speech; glad--actually glad--that his face was hidden from his friend. For all the depth of their reserve, the shadow of restraint was a thing unknown between them. But the world had been turned upside down for Wyndham since he left the familiar room half an hour ago. A spark that came very near to anger burned in his heart. Desmond turned in his chair. Two hours of undiluted Evelyn had left him craving for mental companionship. "Paul, old man," he said on a questioning note, "can't you speak to a fellow? Jove! what wouldn't I give for a good square look at you! It's poor work consorting with folk who only exist from the waist downward. You've not got to be running off anywhere else, have you?" "No; I am quite free." "Come on then, for Heaven's sake, dear chap! I have been wanting you all the morning." The direct appeal, the pathos of his shattered vigour, and the irresistible friendliness of words and tone dispelled all possibility of doubt, or of sitting in judgment. Whatever appearances might suggest, Paul stood ready to swear, through thick and thin, to the integrity of his friend. He came forward at once; and Desmond, cavalierly ousting Rob, made room for him on the lower end of his chair. CHAPTER XXVIII. YOU SHALL NOT--! "I have very sore shame if like a coward I shrink away from battle. Moreover, my own soul forbiddeth me."--HOMER. Quite a little party of a quiet kind assembled in the drawing-room for tea--Frank Olliver, Mrs Conolly, Wyndham, and his subaltern George Rivers, a promising probationer of a year's standing. The funeral of the morning, and anxiety as to the fate of Desmond's eyes, gave a subdued tone to the attempt at cheerfulness that prevailed. But Evelyn was grateful even for so mild a reversion to a more normal condition of things. Each in turn had paid a short visit to the wounded hero in the study; but now they were grouped round the tea-table, leaving him temporarily alone. Evelyn had just filled his cup; and being in no mood to interrupt her exchange of light-hearted nothings with George Rivers, she glanced across at Wyndham, who promptly understood the situation and the mute request. Honor, standing apart from the rest, noted the characteristic bit of by-play, and with a pang of envy watched Paul receive the cup and plate destined for Theo's room. It seemed a century since she had left him in the morning, with words wrung from her bitterness of heart and regretted as soon as they were uttered; and because of the longing, that would not be stifled, she refrained from the offer that came instinctively to her lips. But, as if drawn by the magnetism of her thoughts, Paul came straight up to her.