The day came when we talked of Robert; it was bound to come in the progress of any understanding and affectionate colloquy which had his wife for inspiration. I was familiar, of course, with Somers’s opinion that the Colonel was an awfully good sort; that had been among the preliminaries and become understood as the base of all references. And I liked Robert Harbottle very well myself. When his adjutant called him a born leader of men, however, I felt compelled to look at the statement consideringly. ‘In a tight place,’ I said--dear me, what expressions had the freedom of our little frontier drawing-rooms!--‘I would as soon depend on him as on anybody. But as for leadership--’ ‘He is such a good fellow that nobody here does justice to his soldierly qualities,’ said Mr. Chichele, ‘except Mrs. Harbottle.’ ‘Has she been telling you about them?’ I inquired. ‘Well,’ he hesitated, ‘she told me about the Mulla Nulla affair. She is rather proud of that. Any woman would be.’ ‘Poor dear Judy!’ I mused. Somers said nothing, but looked at me, removing his cigarette, as if my words would be the better of explanation. ‘She has taken refuge in them--in Bob Harbottle’s soldierly qualities--ever since she married him,’ I continued. ‘Taken refuge,’ he repeated, coldly, but at my uncompromising glance his eyes fell. ‘Well?’ I said. ‘You mean--’ ‘Oh, I mean what I say,’ I laughed. ‘Your cigarette has gone out--have another.’ ‘I think her devotion to him splendid.’ ‘Quite splendid. Have you seen the things he brought her from the Simla Art Exhibition? He said they were nice bits of colour, and she has hung them in the drawing-room, where she will have to look at them every day. Let us admire her--dear Judy.’ ‘Oh,’ he said, with a fine air of detachment, ‘do you think they are so necessary, those agreements?’ ‘Well,’ I replied, ‘we see that they are not indispensable. More sugar? I have only given you one lump. And we know, at all events,’ I added, unguardedly, ‘that she could never have had an illusion about him.’ The young man looked up quickly. ‘Is that story true?’ he asked. ‘There was a story, but most of us have forgotten it. Who told you?’ ‘The doctor.’ ‘The Surgeon-Major,’ I said, ‘has an accurate memory and a sense of proportion. As I suppose you were bound to get it from somebody, I am glad you got it from him.’