"No, no. Of course not. You can make things clear without saying too much. Beastly unpleasant job, and I'm sorry to be forcing it on you. But you must know that you're the only chap in the Regiment who could dream of speaking two words to Desmond on such a delicate subject." Paul acknowledged the statement with a wry smile under his moustache. "I doubt if he will stand it, even from me; and I'd a deal sooner wring Kresney's neck. But I'll do the best I can, and take my chance of the consequences to myself." Thus reassured, Olliver departed, and Wyndham, watching him go, wondered what he intended to say. There are few things more distasteful to a well-bred man than the necessity of speaking to a friend, however intimate, on the subject of his wife's conduct or character; because there are few things a man respects more intimately than his fellow-man's reserve. Wyndham knew, moreover, that the real sting of his communication would lie less in the facts themselves than in Mrs Desmond's probable concealment of them; and his natural kindliness prompted him to a passing pity for Evelyn, who, in all likelihood, had not yet penetrated beyond the outer shell of her husband's strongly marked character. The only means of tempering the wind to the shorn lamb lay in speaking first to Honor; and on that idea Wyndham unconditionally turned his back. Mrs Desmond had brought this thing upon herself. She must face the consequences as best she might. But on entering the study, the words he had come to say were checked upon his lips. Desmond stood beside the writing-table, where the green shade lay discarded; and a noticeable scar on his right cheek was all that now remained of the wound which had threatened such serious results. His whole attention was centred upon Rob, who pranced at his feet with ungainly caperings, flinging dignity to the winds, and testifying, with heart and voice and eloquent tail, to the joy that was in him. Paul's sensitive soul revolted from the necessity of imparting ill news at such a moment; and it was Desmond who spoke first. "Mackay's been here this minute making a final examination of my eyes. Gave me leave, thank God, to discard _that_ abomination; and Rob hasn't left off congratulating me since I flung it on the table. The little beggar seems to understand what's happened just as well as I do." He turned on Wyndham with a short satisfied laugh. "By Jove, Paul, it's thundering good to look _you_ squarely in the face again! But why,--what's the trouble, old man? Have you heard bad news?" "Not very bad, but certainly--unpleasant." "And you came to tell me?" "Yes, I came to tell you." Desmond motioned him to a chair; and, as he seated himself with unhurried deliberation, laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" he asked. "The Regiment or yourself?" "Neither." "Well, then----?" "It concerns _you_, my dear Theo," Paul answered slowly. "And it is about--your wife."