"Poor Tynan!" she murmured, more to herself than to her companion. "I have always felt so sorry for the boy since he joined us." "Have you? Why? Don't think me a brute, Ethel, if I say that since that event most of our fellows seem to have pitied the regiment most." "You have no right to say that, Ted," Ethel declared, her clear, steadfast eyes regarding the ensign reproachfully. "Tynan has lost his life, we believe, and you know the Latin tag about speaking good or nothing at all of the dead." Ted was rather surprised. A few moments ago he had tried to omit all mention of Tynan's cowardice, but she had insisted on the whole truth. He recollected having read that even the most charming members of the sex were changeable and unaccountable. "I'm sorry," said he. "I won't say anything harsh about Tynan; but why were you so sorry for him all along?" "Because it struck me as so pitiable that he made no real friends, and I never once noticed him looking downright happy. The most he seemed to get out of life was a miserable pretence of enjoyment--a mere attempt to persuade himself that he was having a good time. His has been such a wasted life, Ted. I have thought a great deal about it this morning and last night, and it has seemed so very sad. None of the healthy pleasures and pursuits that have meant so much to you and Paterson appealed to him in the least." "What have Russell and I been doing now, Miss Ethel?" a well-known voice broke in, and Paterson joined them. Miss Woodburn hesitated and turned red. To speak freely with her future brother-in-law was one thing, to discuss serious subjects with a couple of light-hearted ensigns at once was quite another. Ted came to the rescue. "Miss Woodburn was saying how sorry she has always been for poor Tynan," he explained. "So have I," said Alec slowly; "at least at times, when he was not in the way, but I'm sorry to say I couldn't stand him when he was close at hand. I wish now that I hadn't tried so hard to be sarcastic." "You would have risked your lives to save him from death or danger," said Ethel, "but it was harder to try and save him from himself. At least I found it so, for more than once I resolved to try to gain his confidence and interest him in more sensible pursuits, but being too cowardly and selfish, I was too easily discouraged." "He was hardly the sort one could make a friend of," Paterson mused aloud. "You're right though, Miss Ethel, it was just selfishness and conceit on our part to regard ourselves as superior beings just because we didn't happen to like the sort of things he cared about." "We looked at everything from a different point of view," Ethel resumed after a pause, "and got more enjoyment out of life." "I never saw it in that light before," said Ted, "but I think I know what you mean. For instance, when we were all so excited over the race, he had no sympathy whatever with the horses or riders, but just regarded the affair as so much money to be won or lost."