"You wouldn't mind if we put ourselves out a little to get him out of a difficulty?" "Well, that would rather depend on what we had to do." Her tone, though still pleasant, was guarded. "What kind of difficulty?" "Money." She turned her face away something suddenly, and felt very thankful that day was fading from the sky. "Do you mean--lending him money?" she asked blankly. "No--giving it. I prefer it that way. There's no need to tell you his troubles in detail; it would hardly be fair to him. They, are of a kind you can't know anything about; and I hope you never will." In the fewest possible words he gave her an outline of Harry's story; of the parting with Roland, and the promise he had exacted in return for his help. He spoke throughout with such unfailing kindness that vexation pricked and stung her, like thorns under the skin. She might have told him after all. He would not have been angry. Now she had been forestalled. She failed to perceive that the backslidings of his wife must of necessity touch him more nearly than those of his subaltern, and that to her own extravagance was added a host of petty evasions and deceits such as a man of his type would be little able to condone or understand. "You see," he was saying when her mind harked back from the excursion into her own point of view, "the poor fellow has done all he can towards putting matters straight, and I am thankful I can manage the rest myself, so as to give him a fair start for the future." "But how much is--_your_ share?" she asked, almost in a whisper. "Rather more than eight hundred rupees." "And you have actually--_done_ it, Theo?" "Yes. You surely couldn't have wished otherwise?" For a moment she hesitated, then her repressed bitterness brimmed over. "Oh, I don't know. Only I think you might have considered _me_ a little first. I've more right to your money than he has; and if you can afford to throw away eight hundred rupees on a careless, extravagant subaltern, you could quite well let me go to Simla; or at least add something to my dress allowance. It's not so very easy to manage on the little you give me." She spoke with averted face in a tone of clear hardness, and each word smote her husband like a small sharp stone. "I am sorry you see it that way," he said, a new restraint in his voice, "and that you don't find your allowance sufficient. I give you all I can, and you seem to have pretty frocks enough, anyhow. If I had eight hundred rupees to throw away,--as you choose to express it,--I should hardly have spoken of putting ourselves out; in fact, I shouldn't have spoken at all. But you have been such good friends with the Boy all along that I hoped you would be ready to help give him a hand up. I can only manage such a sum by knocking two hundred off my pay for the next four months. This means cutting down expenses a little; but we can easily do it, Ladybird--_if_ we pull together."