The two men supported the proposition. The western hemisphere, where she had tarried so long, could get on very well by itself. In the meantime the old eastern hemisphere had been going to pieces. They had a gay little meal. Now that Zora had settled Wiggleswick, arranged her plan of campaign against Emmy, and established very agreeable and subtle relations between Sypher and herself, she could afford to shed all her charm and gaiety and graciousness on her subjects. She was infinitely glad to be with them again. Nunsmere had unaccountably expanded; she breathed freely and no longer knocked her head against beams in bedroom ceilings. She rallied Septimus on his new gun. "He's afraid of it," said Sypher. "What! Afraid of its going off?" she laughed. "Oh, no," said Septimus. "I've heard lots of them go off." "When?" asked Zora. Septimus reddened, and for once was at a loss for one of the curiously evasive answers in which his timidity took refuge. He fidgeted in his chair. Zora repeated her jesting question. "Was it when they were firing royal salutes in St. James's Park?" "No," said Septimus. His back being against the fading light she could not perceive the discomfiture on his face. She longed to elicit some fantastic irrelevance. "Well, where was it? Why this mystery?" "I'll tell you two," said Septimus. "I've never told you before. In fact, I've never told any one--not even Wiggleswick. I don't like to think of it. It hurts. You may have wondered how I ever got any practical acquaintance with gunnery. I once held a commission in the Militia Garrison Artillery. That's how I came to love guns." "By why should that pain you, my dear Septimus?" asked Zora. "They said I was incompetent," he murmured, brokenly, "and took away my commission. The colonel said I was a disgrace to the service." Clem Sypher smote the arm of his chair and started up in his wrath. "By heavens! I'll make the blundering idiot eat his words. I'll ram them down his throat with the cleaner of the new gun. I'll make you the biggest ornament the service ever possessed. I'll devote my existence to it! The Dix gun shall wipe humanity off the face of the earth!" "I don't want it to do that," said Septimus, meekly. Zora begged his forgiveness very sweetly for her indiscretion, and having comforted him with glowing prophecies of fame and domestic happiness, went home with a full heart. She loved Sypher for his generous outburst. She was deeply touched by Septimus's tragic story, but having a sense of humor she could not repress a smile at the thought of Septimus in uniform, handling a battery of artillery. CHAPTER XXI