"She has stabbed Captain March, though not mortally, I hope," said I. "But she has behaved as badly to you as to him, in a way." "You mean the affair of the photograph, I suppose," Major Vandyke remarked calmly. "She has explained that. Not that I asked her to. All I did was to put into a letter the story of that little scene in which you were mixed up in March's tent. She answered voluntarily that March must have bribed the photographer to sell him a copy, though the man had been given strict instructions to print only one--for me. March had begged her for a picture, when he heard from Mrs. Main that she'd been sitting for that fellow, who's supposed to be a great artist; and Di put him off in some laughing way. I was pretty certain, when I noticed there was no signature on the portrait March had, that he'd not got the photograph from Diana herself. No doubt he thought all fair in love or war." "You judge him by yourself," I said. "But never mind! I shan't ask you not to believe Di, but to believe your own common sense. Think--or pretend to think what you like." "I shall," he assured me; "that's a great principle of mine! As a general rule it makes for happiness and success. But we're getting away from my object in speaking to you, when I know you're wishing me in kingdom come." "Not there," said I. He laughed out aloud, and anybody looking at us might have imagined us the best of friends. "What a little devil you are! Where did you inherit it from?" "From French chocolate, perhaps," said I. "What is it you want with me, Major Vandyke? Tell me, and get it over." "I want to know exactly what it is in me that you dislike so much?" "Only everything." "That's a large order, and not very explicit. Would you have disliked me if I hadn't interfered with--a--er--a person more to your taste; in other words, with Captain Eagleston March?" "Oh, of course, if you hadn't been jealous of him, I might have thought better of your _character_. But then, you wouldn't have been you." "D'you know," drawled Major Vandyke, "I've a sort of idea that it was Captain March who was jealous of me!" "It isn't _in_ him to be jealous, in the way you mean. But you've asked why I dislike you, and you interrupted me before I could finish. 'Dislike' is a very small word for what I feel. I loathe you, because you've done your best to ruin him. There are some things I _know_. Partly, I blame myself because of what I said to you about Di in camp. Perhaps--just perhaps--you mightn't have done what you have done if I'd held my tongue. That's why, if I've had a hand in pulling Eagle March down, I'd cut it off, and the other one, too, if I could have a hand in lifting him up."