"Play up to me, then," muttered Gerrard in response, and spoke aloud and cheerfully. "My dear Miss Cinnamond, pray don't distress yourself. My friend Charteris and I have no intention whatever of fighting a duel. There has been a--a temporary misunderstanding between us, but it is absolutely cleared up, I assure you." "And as for the promise which you are good enough to offer to make, we should regret it more than any one else, because, you see, we both hope you will marry one of us," said Charteris, almost with levity. "I shall never marry any one," said Honour remorsefully. "I have done too much harm already." "Harm? oh, nonsense!--if you'll forgive me for saying so," returned Charteris. "It's done Gerrard and me a lot of good, hasn't it, my boy? (Why don't you back me up, surly?) We shall thank you for it yet--like eels getting used to being skinned, you know----" "On my honour, Miss Cinnamond," said Gerrard, fearing the heights of metaphor to which his friend's ardour might carry him, "we are both quite prepared to abide by your decision for the present, but we think we may fairly claim the right of trying to induce you to change it, after a proper interval----" ("Couldn't have put it better myself," said Charteris, with enthusiasm. "Fire away, Hal.") "But nothing is farther from our thoughts than to cause pain or anxiety to a lady whom we both admire and respect so highly," went on Gerrard, in his best manner. "We have made up our minds not to suffer our friendship to be broken by attempts to supplant each other secretly, and if at length one of us is so happy as to win your regard, the other will bow absolutely to your decision." "Question!" said Charteris sharply, but at the sight of returning anxiety in Honour's eyes, he capitulated. "And if it would give you any pleasure to see us shake hands, Miss Cinnamond, the word is with you." "It would, indeed," she said, smiling gratefully--and they did it, Charteris with a wicked twinkle in his eye. Honour stood up, tears contending with smiles in her face. "Thank you both so much," she said. "But I think I ought to tell you that your friendship will never be put to the test. I could never, never choose." "Cheerful!" said Charteris. "But we will hope on." "Please take me back to my mother," said Honour, in some confusion, as a party of elderly officers invaded the room, eager to enjoy their hookahs, the bearers of which were waiting outside. "You might bring Miss Cinnamond's fan, Hal," said Charteris, dexterously offering his arm first, and thus they returned to Lady Cinnamond, who had been a prey to grievous anxiety, disguised with an iron will lest public attention should be attracted to Honour's absence.