"I am not fit to come near you," he said, as he drew near. "I have been right across the desert to Udalkhand, and had to do some hard riding to get back in time." He pulled off his glove and just touched Stella's cheek in passing. "Hullo, Bernard! About time for a drink, isn't it?" He looked momentarily surprised when Stella swiftly turned her head and kissed the hand that had so lightly caressed her. He stopped beside her and laid it on her shoulder. "I am afraid you won't approve of me when I tell you what I have been doing," he said. She looked up at him. "I know. Tommy came in and told us. You--seem to have done something rather great. I suppose we ought to congratulate you." He smiled a little. "It is always satisfactory when a murderer gets his deserts," he said, "though I am afraid the man who does the job is not in all cases the prime malefactor." "Ah!" Stella said. She folded up her work with hands that were not quite steady; her face was very pale. Everard stood looking down at the burnished coils of her hair. "Are you going to the dance at the Club to-night?" he asked, after a moment. She shook her head instantly. "No." "Why not?" he questioned. She leaned back in her chair, and looked up at him. "As you know, I never was particularly fond of the station society." He frowned a little. "It's better than nothing. You are too given to shutting yourself up. Bernard thinks so too." Stella glanced towards her brother-in-law with a slight lift of the eyebrows. "I don't think he does. But in any case, we are engaged to-night. It is Tessa's birthday, and she and Scooter are coming to dine." "Coming to dine! What on earth for?" Everard looked his astonishment.