"Indeed they have done nothing of the kind! You ask a direct question, and you are bound in fairness to hear my answer. The life here is still very new to Evelyn, and she has not quite found her footing yet;--that is all. I have had it from her own lips that the place matters very little to her so long as she is--with you; and you go too far in saying that she is not happy here." But her words did not carry conviction. He was still under the influence of his wife's curious aloofness since the night of the fire. "You're trying to let me down gently, Honor," he said, with a rather cheerless smile. "And you may as well save yourself the trouble. Only--this is where you must _not_ misunderstand me, please,--no shadow of blame attaches to Ladybird if she isn't happy. I had no right to bring her up to this part of the world, knowing it as I did; and I've no right to keep her here. That's the position, in a nutshell." "Do you mean you ought to--send her away?" "No--_take_ her away." Honor started visibly. "But--surely--that's impossible?" "I think not," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone that distressed her more keenly than any display of emotion. "It's merely a question of facing facts. If I had money enough, I could throw up the Army and take her home. But, as matters stand, I can only do the next best thing, and give up--the Frontier, by exchanging into a down-country regiment." "_The Frontier...!_ Theo! Do you realise what you are saying?" "Perfectly." "Oh, but it's folly--worse than folly! To give up what you have worked for all these years--the men who worship you--your friends, the regiment----" "They would survive the loss. I don't flatter myself I'm indispensable. Besides, this isn't a question of me or my friends. I am thinking of Ladybird." The coolness of his tone, and the set determination of his mouth, chilled her fervour like a draught of cold air. "Oh, if only Major Wyndham were here!" she murmured desperately. "Thank God he is not! And if he were, it would make no difference. I shouldn't dream of discussing such a matter with him or--any of them. When my mind is made up, I shall tell him; that is all." He rose as though the matter were ended; but Honor had no mind to let him shut the door upon it--yet. "It is strange that you can speak so," she said, "when you must know, better than any one, what your leaving the regiment would mean--to Major Wyndham." "Yes--I know," he answered quietly, and the pain in his eyes made her half regret her own daring. "The only two big difficulties in the way are my father--and Paul." "_I_ see a whole army of others almost as big." "That is only because you are always in sympathy with the man's point of view."