The great endeavour of her life had been to cultivate or acquire the qualities in which she understood that women are wanting, and when she succeeded she expected to please; but she found Colonel Colquhoun as "peculiar" on the subject as her father had been when she proved that, although of the imbecile sex, she could do arithmetic. Colonel Colquhoun waited a week to snap at her for asking him how he had spent his leave, but he was obliged at last to give up all hope of being questioned; and then he felt himself aggrieved. She certainly took no interest in him whatever, he reflected; she didn't care a rap if he went to the dogs altogether--in fact, she would probably be rather glad, because then she would be free. She would waste a world of attention and care upon any dirty little child she picked up in the street, but for him she had neither thought nor sympathy. Clearly she wanted to get rid of him; and she should get rid of him. He felt he was going to the bad; he _would_ go to the bad; it was all her fault, and she should know it. He had treated her with every possible consideration; she had never had the slightest cause for complaint. He had even stuck up for her against his own interests with her old ass of a father--and, by Jove! while she was treating him, Colonel Colquhoun, commanding a crack corps, and one of the smartest officers in her Majesty's service, with studied indifference, she was thinking affectionately of the same dear old pompous portly papa, to whom, in fact, she had never borne the slightest ill-will, Colonel Colquhoun was sure, although he had done her the injury of allowing her to marry herself to the kind of man whom it was against her principles even to countenance. But at this point his irritation overflowed. He could contain himself no longer. "Do you know where I spent most of my leave?" he asked one morning at breakfast. "No," Evadne answered innocently. "At Monte Carlo," he said, with emphasis. "I hope you enjoyed it. I have always heard it is a very beautiful place," she responded tranquilly. "It's effect on my exchequer has not been beautiful," he observed grimly. "Indeed," she answered. "Is it so expensive?" "Gambling is, when you lose," he declared. "Ah, yes. I forgot the tables at Monte Carlo," she remarked quite cheerfully. "I suppose you can lose a great deal there." "You can lose all you possess." "Well, yes--of course you could if you liked; but I am quite sure you would never do anything so stupid." He looked at her curiously: "You don't disapprove of gambling, then?" he asked. "I? Oh--of course, I disapprove. But then you see I have no taste for it"-- this was apologetically said to signify that she did not in the least mean to sit in judgment upon him. "You have a fine taste for driving people to such extremities, then," he asserted. She looked at him inquiringly. "What I mean is this," he explained: "that if I could have been with you, I should not have gone to Monte Carlo."