"Well, ought to tell in his favour, I mean," said Frances, mending her speech. "I suppose he only does what he is put to do--his daily work," continued the colonel. "That, he cannot shirk: he has nothing to look to but his salary to pay his way. There's no merit in doing one's simple duty." "I think there is a great deal, when it is such hard work as Gerard's," contended Frances. And this time Mr. Howard laughed outright at the "hard work." "Perhaps the hard work is keeping him tonight," suggested Mr. Grubb, with just the ghost of a smile. "No," said Frances, "I think the office closes at four." "Oh," cried the colonel. "Where is he then? What does he mean by staying away?" "He is run over, of course," said Frances, "and taken to the nearest hospital. Nothing short of that would have kept him away." Lady Sarah Hope looked down the table at her sister. "Is Gerard in love with you, Frances?" "In love with me!" exclaimed the young lady, her face flushing vividly. "What ridiculous fable will you imagine next, Sarah?" "Is it a fable?" added Lady Sarah, struck with the flush. "What else should it be?" laughed Frances. "Gerard could not think of falling in love upon nothing a-year. Nothing a-year, and find himself! That has been his case, poor fellow--or something akin to it." "That may be remedied," remarked Lady Sarah. She had caught up an opinion upon the subject, and she held to it in the future. As the small line of ladies filed out of the dining-room, Lady Sarah, walking first, turned just outside the door to wait for her sister Adela. Mr. Grubb, who was holding the door open, said something to his wife in an undertone as she passed him. Adela made no answer whatever; except that her lifted face put on a look of scorn, and her lips took a downward curve. "What did your husband say to you?" asked Lady Sarah, having fancied that she heard her own name--Hope. "I don't know--or care. As if I should listen to anything he might say!" contemptuously added Lady Adela. Lady Sarah stared. "Why, child, what do you mean? He is your husband." "To my cost." "What do you mean? What does she mean?" continued Lady Sarah, appealing to the other two sisters, for Adela had not deemed it necessary to lower her voice. They did not answer. Grace took up an album, her face wearing a sad look of pain; Frances walked into the other drawing-room. "I insist upon knowing what you mean, in saying that Mr. Grubb is your husband to _your cost_," cried Lady Sarah, returning to the charge. She was so much older than Adela--looking, in fact, old enough to be her mother, for India's sun and the loss of her children had greatly aged her--that she took her to task at will. Lady Sarah, like her mother, had always displayed somewhat of a propensity for setting the world to rights.