He laughed at her jest and explained, much as he had done to me, his reasons for wishing to keep his visit to Wellingsford a secret. Meanwhile Marigold had brought in decanters and syphons. Betty attended to Boyce's needs with a provoking air of nonchalance. If a notorious German imbrued in the blood of babes had chanced to be in her hospital, she would have given him his medicine with just the same air. Although no one could have specified a lack of courtesy towards a guest--for in my house she played hostess--there was an indefinable touch of cold contumely in her attitude. Whether he felt the hostility as acutely as I did, I cannot say; but he carried it off with a swaggering grace. He bowed to her over his glass. "Here's to the fortunate and gallant fellow over there." I saw her knuckles whiten as, with an inclination of the head, she acknowledged the toast. "By the way," said he, "what's his regiment? My good mother told me his name. Captain Connor, isn't it? But for the rest she is vague. She's the vaguest old dear in the world. I found out to-day that she thought there was a long row of cannons, hundreds of them, all in a line, in front of the English Army, and a long row in front of the German Army, and, when there was a battle, that they all blazed away. So when I asked her whether your husband was in the Life Guards or the Army Service Corps, she said cheerfully that it was either one or the other but she wasn't quite sure. So do give me some reliable information." "My husband is in the 10th Wessex Fusiliers, a Territorial battalion," she replied coldly. "I hope some day to have the pleasure of making his acquaintance." "Stranger things have happened," said Betty. She glanced at the clock and rose abruptly. "It's time I was getting back to the hospital." Boyce rose too. "How are you going?" he asked. "I'm walking." He advanced a step towards her. "Won't you let me run you round in the car?" "I prefer to walk." Her tone was final. She took affectionate leave of me and went to the door, which Boyce held open. "Good-night," she said, without proffering her hand. He followed her out into the hall. "Betty," he said in a low voice, "won't you ever forgive me?" "I have no feelings towards you either of forgiveness or resentment," she replied. They did not mean to be overheard, but my hearing is unusually acute, and I could not help catching their conversation. "I know I seem to have behaved badly to you." "You have behaved worse to others," said Betty. "I don't wonder at your shrinking from showing your face here." Then, louder, for my benefit. "Good-night, Major Boyce. I really can walk up to the hospital by myself." Evidently she walked away and Boyce after her, for I heard him say: "You shan't go till you've told me what you mean." What she replied I don't know. To judge by the slam of the front door it must have been something defiant. Presently he entered debonair, with a smile on his lips.