"Captain Stevenson wants to give me an Irish terrier," says Carol, a few mornings later. "I think it will be well to have a dog about the place, especially after what happened the other night." "Yes, indeed; I should accept it by all means." "I will ride over and see him early, and get back by daylight." Eleanor picks up a book, leaning back wearily. She is growing accustomed to his absences. The Eleanor who was so difficult to please with Philip Roche will stand anything from Carol Quinton. Her one idea is to yield to his every whim, regard his every wish. To live only to please. He bends over her. She is reading Shakespeare for the first time. "What is honour?--a word," she quotes aloud. "What is that word, honour?--air." He kisses the curling hair on her forehead. "Good-bye, my love. You shall not be alarmed this time." "Come back soon, Carol." She does not rise to kiss her hand or wave as he rides away. She is beginning to see with a woman's shrewd instinct that he treats her with more deference when she feigns indifference. She is dreaming over her book, and her idle fingers turn the pages till they come to _Macbeth_. By chance her eyes fall on five familiar words, of whose origin she was ignorant. "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow!" A low laugh ripples from her lips, she rises and tosses the volume aside. They have no power to frighten her now, for the to-morrows mean Carol, life, love. Here in this beautiful country she is passing a charmed existence. Nature in all its majesty now appeals to her senses, ravishes her eye, while she, lovely in her picturesque surroundings, feels a goddess of the east. She hears the sounds of hoofs below, and leans over the balustrade, a bright smile parting her lips, the sunlight streaming on her hair, looking quite childlike in her soft white gown, which clings around her girlish figure. Two men ride up: one tall, fair, and emaciated in appearance; the other dark, and indescribably handsome. "Does Mr. Quinton live here?" asks the fair man, raising his hat. "Yes," replies Eleanor, "but he is out now, won't you come in?" The men hesitate and exchange glances. "Are you Captain Stevenson and Major Short?" looking at them through her long lashes, with half-veiled curiosity. They reply in the affirmative, and Eleanor informs them that Carol is already on his way to their encampment, at K----. "But I am all alone, and very dull," says Eleanor plaintively. "Do rest and refresh yourselves." She sends for a man to take their horses, and receives them in the verandah with a gracious air. "May I ask to whom we have the pleasure of speaking?" murmurs Captain Stevenson.