"Oh, my dear, we will hope she cares for Mr Gerrard," interposed Lady Cinnamond hastily, seeing her husband's brow grow thunderous. Marian had transgressed the unwritten law which forbade the General's womankind to meddle in the slightest degree with his professional appointments, and had added to her misdeeds by weeping. "She doesn't. I don't believe she has it in her. You'll see, to-morrow," and with this Parthian shot Mrs Cowper quitted the room in tears, meanly leaving her mother to allay the tempest she had raised. On the morrow poor Lady Cinnamond was almost tempted to think as she did with regard to Honour, for Gerrard, putting his fortune to the touch without, as he assured himself, the slightest hope of success, met the same fate as his friend. Perhaps his way of broaching the subject was unfortunate. "Our lamentations over Charteris were rather premature, weren't they?" he asked her, with an assumption of lightness which suited her mood as little as his. "How could you mislead me so dreadfully about him?" demanded Honour, moved to indignation by her wrongs. "Mislead you? Why, I never said a word that wasn't true!" Gerrard was unfeignedly surprised. "I suppose not," she admitted unwillingly. "But you dwelt only on his good points, and I--I almost thought I had misjudged him. But when I saw him there was no difference. He brought a smell of smoke into the room with him, and talked slang, just as he always did." "But why should one recall obvious things like that? Would you have had me try to belittle him to you--if you must think worse of a man for such trifles as smoking and using slang?" "Trifles in your estimation, perhaps; not in mine." "Well, at any rate it shows you can't care for him," said Gerrard despairingly, "or you wouldn't notice them." "I consider that remark extremely rude and uncalled-for," said Honour, with spirit. "You have no right whatever to pass judgment upon my feelings." "Pardon me, but how can I help it? Perhaps you mean that if Bob left off slang and smoking he would be all right?" "And if I did, how would it concern you?" "Oh, merely that I think you ought to tell him, or let me." "You think he would do it?" "Like winkin'. Oh, I _beg_ your pardon. I would, I know, just as I would do any mortal thing you cared to ask me. Ask me, Honour. Can't you give me a bit of hope?" "How can I? You would not be satisfied--either of you--if I said I would marry you just to escape from unpleasantness of this kind. I mean"--hastily, as she caught sight of his face--"I dislike so much hurting people's feelings, but with you and Mr Charteris I seem able to do nothing else. If you would only both take my answer as final, and let us all be happy and friendly together as we were before this idea came into your minds!"