Men of views and visions, men of affairs and ambitions, men of ease and pleasure--among these her lot had been cast since she left her father's house. The Merriams were pre-eminently men of duty. They had their opinions, and both took their recreations with a healthy zest; but the Service was as the breath of their nostrils. The General was the cleverer soldier of the two, as the Kala Kin Expedition bore witness. The son was not likely ever to command more than a regiment or, at most, a brigade; higher distinctions must be left to the second brother. Bertie's enthusiasm corresponded nicely with his gifts. He adored the regiment, and in due course a few months would see him Lieutenant-Colonel; if only the regiment could see service under his command, how joyously would he sing his _Nunc dimittis_, with duty done and his name on an honourable roll! Winnie sat regarding his pleasant tanned face, his sincere pale blue eyes, and his very well-made clothes, with a calm satisfaction. She had been hearing a good deal about the regiment, but the gossip amused her. "And where do the officers' wives--I suppose some of you have wives?--come in?" she asked. "Oh, they're awfully important, Miss Wilson. The social tone depends so much on them. You see, with a parcel of young chaps--the subalterns, you know--well, you do see, don't you?" "Well, I think I can see that, Major Merriam. They mustn't flirt with the subalterns? At any rate, not too much?" "That's rotten. But they ought to teach them their manners." "Ought to be motherly? You don't look as if that sounded quite right! Elder-sisterly?" "That's more like it, Miss Wilson." He said 'Miss Wilson' rather often, or so it struck Winnie--just as Bob Purnett used to say 'Mrs. Ledstone' much too often. He gave her another little jar the next moment. He left the subject of officers' wives, and leant forward to her with an ingratiating yet rather apologetic smile. "I say, do you know what the General has had the cheek to suggest to your cousin?" Winnie had forgotten her cue. "My cousin?" she exclaimed in surprise. "Why, Mrs. Lenoir! She is your cousin, isn't she?" The lie direct Winnie disliked. Yet could she betray her benefactress? "It's so awfully distant that I forget the cousin in the friend," she said, with an uneasy little laugh. "But what has the General had the cheek--your phrase, not mine--to suggest to Mrs. Lenoir?" She seemed to have forgotten the cousin again, for she said 'Mrs. Lenoir,' not 'Cousin Clara.' As, however, the Major had never heard her say anything else, the point did not attract his notice. "Why, that we four might make a party of it as far as Madeira. Nice little place, though I suppose it won't be as lively now as it was when the war was going on." "It sounds delightful." "I've got a paper to read to the Naval and Military Institute in six weeks' time. I could just fit it in--and write the thing out there, you know." "We'd all help you," said Winnie.