"I know I am. It's necessary sometimes, when people are--obstinate!" And she smiled frankly into his troubled face. "Oh, believe me, it's fatal for the man to throw all his life out of gear on account of the woman. It's putting things the wrong way about altogether. In accepting her husband, a woman must be prepared to accept his life and work also." "But, suppose she can't realise either till--too late?" "That's a drawback. But if she really cares, it can still be done. I am jealous for Evelyn. I want her to have the chance of showing that she has good stuff in her. Give her the chance, Theo; and if she doesn't quite rise to it, don't feel that you are in any way to blame." "I'd be bound to feel that." "Then I can only say it would be very wrong-headed of you." Her eyes softened to a passing tenderness nevertheless. "Let the blame, if there is any, rest on my shoulders; and we'll hope that the need may never arise. Now, have I said enough? Will you--_will_ you leave things as they are, and put aside your impossible notion for good?" The urgency of her request so touched him that he answered with a readiness which surprised himself. "No question but you're a friend worth having! I promise you this much, Honor. I will think very thoroughly over it all, since you accuse me of not having done so yet! And we'll let the matter rest for the present, anyway. I'd like to get you both to the Hills as soon as possible. These Kresneys are becoming something of a nuisance. It's past my comprehension how she can find any pleasure in their company. But she has little enough amusement here, and I'm loth to spoil any of it. She'll enjoy going up to Murree, though, sooner than she expected; and as Mackay insists on my taking fifteen days before getting back to work, I can go with you, and settle you up there in about a week's time. You'll see after her, for me, won't you, Honor? She's a little heedless and inexperienced still; and you'll keep an eye on household matters more or less?" "Of course I will, and make her see to them herself, too; though it seems rather like expecting a flower to learn the multiplication table! She is so obviously just made to be loved and protected." "_And_ kept happy," he insisted, with an abrupt reversion to his original argument. "Yes--within reasonable limits. Now, sit down, please, and light up. You've been all this time without a cigar!" But the cigar was hardly lighted before they were startled by a confused sound of shouting from the compound;--a blur of shrill and deep voices, punctuated by the strained discordant bark of a dog;--a bark unmistakable to ears that have heard it once. Desmond sprang out of his chair. "By Jove! A mad pariah!"