"I told him he was making a mistake," said Bernard. Stella glanced down at him. "It was a mistake," she said. "But he made it out of love for me, because he thought--he thought--that my pride was dearer to me than my love. I don't wonder he thought so. I gave him every reason. For I wouldn't listen to him, wouldn't believe him. I sent him away." Her breath caught suddenly, and she put a quick hand to her throat. "That is what hurts me most," she said after a moment,--"just to remember that,--to remember what I made him suffer--how I failed him--when Tommy, even Tommy, believed in him--went after him to tell him so." "But we all make mistakes," said Sir Reginald gently, "or we shouldn't be human." She controlled herself with an effort. "Yes. He said that, and told me to forget it. I don't know if I can, but I shall try. I shall try to make up to him for it for as long as I live. And I thank God--for giving me the chance." Her deep voice quivered, and Bernard's hand tightened upon hers. "Yes," he said, looking at Sir Reginald. "Ralph Dacre is dead. He was the unknown man who was shot in the jungle two nights ago." "Indeed!" said Sir Reginald sharply. "Yes," Stella said. "He too had found out--about the death of his first wife. And he was on his way to me. But--" she suddenly covered her eyes--"I couldn't have borne it. I would have killed myself first." Bernard reached up and thrust his arm about her, without speaking. She leaned against him for a few seconds as if the story had taxed her strength too far. Then Sir Reginald came to her and with a fatherly gesture drew her hand away from her face. "My dear," he said very kindly, "thank you a thousand times for telling me this. I know it's been infernally hard. I admire you for it more than I can say. It hasn't been too much for you I hope?" She smiled at him through tears. "No--no! You are both--so kind." He stooped with a very courtly gesture and carried her hand to his lips. "Everard Monck is a very lucky man," he said, "but I think he is almost worthy of his luck. And now--I want you to tell me one thing more. Where can I find him?" Her hand trembled a little in his. "I--am not sure he would wish me to tell you that." Sir Reginald's grey moustache twitched whimsically. "If his desire for privacy is so great, it shall be respected. Will you take him a message from me?" "Of course," she said. Sir Reginald patted her hand and released it. "Then please tell him," he said, "that the Indian Empire cannot afford to lose the services of so valuable a servant as he has proved himself to be, and if he will accept a secretaryship with me I think there is small doubt that it will eventually lead to much greater things." Stella gave a great start. "Oh, do you mean that?" she said. Sir Reginald smiled openly. "I really do, Mrs. Monck, and I shall think myself very fortunate to secure him. You will use your influence, I hope, to induce him to accept?" "But of course," she said.