For the sake of meeting him she made friends to a far greater extent with Edith le Mentier. She smiled in tender graciousness upon Alec Bruce, she treated Sir Arthur Dallerton when she met him with the greatest interest and respect. It was through him she learned first that Muriel was not going to India, second that her engagement with Jack Hurstly was “off,” after that she ceased to take any interest in him at all. People said it was time she was married. It took Jack a long time to realize that Muriel meant what she said. He wrote again, and it was not till she stopped answering him that he began to believe her. The key he held to the woman riddle says that “A woman who goes on saying no is easier to turn than the woman who says nothing.” India and the old influences of the regiment had undone a good deal of her training. Jack told himself he was a fool to have loved her, and agreed with the world’s verdict that she “really went too far.” In fact the world turned its back on her. She had had two good marriages in her hand and thrown them away; her society was a strain; she did unheard-of things; she was really better in the slums. Everybody told him he was well out of it, and though he was outwardly indignant at their judgment it took the edge off his sorrow. He grew rapidly strong, and hunted more than ever. He was not to be invalided home, and he had been very badly treated. He looked upon this as virtual absolution for whatever dissipations he might be led into. Even in the nineteenth century few men have found a better excuse than “The woman Thou gavest me.” One evening as Jack sat smoking in his quarters, wondering lazily what sort of a drink it would be most possible to enjoy, a knock at the door aroused him from his thoughts, and gave entrance to a favorite young subaltern. “Hullo, Musgrave!—come in!” he said with warmth. “Have a drink?” he added as the young fellow sank into a chair. Musgrave shook his head. “Anything up?” Jack asked with surprise. “Nothing particular,” said Jim Musgrave. “My aunt’s coming out here, though. I shall have to sit up for her.” “Oh! I say that’s bad,” said his friend sympathetically. “She’s going to bring a mighty pretty girl out with her, though, to jam the powder,” said the nephew irreverently. “The fact of the matter is I believe it’s for the girl’s sake she’s coming. There’s an awful dearth going on in London—herds of pretty girls and nothing to gain by it, you know—I don’t know what England’s coming to—we’re so scarce—they say the returns after the season are something awful!” Jack laughed grimly. “I’m one of them,” he said. “I didn’t make myself scarce enough it seems. Who’s your aunt, by-the-bye? Perhaps I know her.”