"Because each of them thinks that you will be willing to marry him one day, and you know it. You are rather proud of their constancy, and your own firmness in not yielding to either of them. But it is not a thing to be proud of; it is a thing to be ashamed of and sorry for. You could make far more of either of those men by coming down from your pedestal and marrying him in an ordinary everyday way than by standing up above him and giving him good advice. I know you have some delusion that it is better and higher to be as you are, but I tell you that I had rather have married my Charley and known him as he really was and--yes, and even lost him--than stood on high and given good advice to a whole army. Oh, Charley, my dear kind Charley--and I behaved so badly to you when you went away! I never kissed you!" A fresh paroxysm of tears succeeded the angry words, and Honour yielded to the ayah's whispered entreaties, and left the room. Grief and resentment combined to give her a very disturbed night, and when Lady Cinnamond arrived, tired and travel-stained, about mid-day, after an unbroken journey from Ranjitgarh, she was shocked at her daughter's appearance. But there was no time to think of Honour, for Marian, hearing her mother's voice, had tottered to her door. "Oh, dear mamma, I have wanted you so much! You understand, you know all about it." Not until the evening did Honour see her mother again, and then Lady Cinnamond crept out on tiptoe into the verandah. "Honour, love, I have been so longing to speak to you, but I could not leave poor Marian until she fell asleep. I am very anxious about papa. He has never been alone in the hot weather before, and he is so terribly imprudent." "You would like me to go down and take care of him? I shall be delighted, mamma. I find I must be thankful if any one will let me even stay near them." "Dear little one, you must not think----" "I do not think, mamma; I know. I know that Marian has begged you to send me away, and said she shall go mad if she sees me about. She said almost as much as that to me last night. I suppose I deserve it somehow, but I really don't see how." "Onora, dear child, you must not misjudge poor Marian. She has had a fearful blow, and is hardly responsible for what she says. You know that I would never send you away from me. But I see that I must stay here with her for the present, and it makes me so unhappy to leave dear papa----" "And you do know how I long to be of use to any one, don't you, mamma? I wanted to comfort Marian, but she would not let me. Oh, mamma, she said such cruel, unjust things. And is it my fault if I can't--if I can't----?"