Certainly that had to be considered; for here the two men touched what was their real effective religion--the thing which in truth shaped their lives, to which they were both loyal and uncompromising adherents, in regard to which the son was almost a fanatic. What was important to the regiment was of vital importance to Bertie Merriam and to his life's work. One of the things important to the regiment was the wives of its officers; most important was their influence on the 'young chaps'--as he had said to Winnie. It ought to be, if not motherly, at least 'elder-sisterly.' Viewed in this connection, there was evidently matter for consideration, assuming that everything got out in India, as according to the General it did. To present to the 'young chaps' such an 'elder sister' as Winnie--certainly consideration was needed. Later in the afternoon Mrs. Lenoir sat in a wicker chair on the casino terrace which overlooks, from a respectable and precipitous height, the roadstead and the sea. She had spent a lonely afternoon, she had seen none of her three friends, and by herself had drifted down to a solitary cup of tea at this resort, which she was at the moment feeling to be insecurely entitled to be called one of pleasure. She had an instinct that something was happening, that things were being settled behind her back. The feeling made her fretful; when she was fretful, the lines on her face showed a deeper chiselling. And by a very human instinct, because she thought that her friend the General was going to be angry with her, she began to get angry with him--so as not to start the quarrel at a disadvantage. They were making a fuss; now what in heaven's name was there to make a fuss about? Hugh to make a fuss! A smile more acrid, less kind, than usual, bent Mrs. Lenoir's lips; it made her look older. Suddenly, without seeing where he came from, she found the General beside her--rather a stiff General, raising his hat very ceremoniously. "You've had your tea, Clara? May I sit down by you?" "Yes, I've had my tea, thank you. And you?" "No, thank you. I--in fact I've had a whisky and soda." The indulgence was unusual. It confirmed Mrs. Lenoir's instinct. "Where's Bertie?" "He's gone for a walk to Camara de Lobos." The instinct was proved infallibly correct. A stride along the one level road--clearly a case of mental disturbance needing physical treatment! The General sat down. He was not even smoking; he rested the big silver knob of his stick against his lips. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Oh yes, certainly yes! When he spoke, it was abruptly. "I don't know exactly how long you mean to stay here, Clara, but I'm afraid Bertie and I must take the next boat home. We must get back to London." "Who's inconsolable in London?" "I've had a letter which makes it advisable----" "Oh, nonsense!" She did not disguise her impatience. "She's told him, has she?" "I don't think you've treated me quite fairly."