The Great Amulet

by Maud Diver

  CHAPTER VII.

  "God uses us to help each other so, Lending our lives out." --Browning.

  Before May was out Honor met her unpromising acquaintance severaltimes, by chance. But nothing beyond formal greetings passed betweenthem. Twice she happened to be riding alone with Lenox; the thirdtime, her husband was with them: and on every occasion Quita'scompanion was James Garth,--the only one among them all who enjoyed thesituation. Quita herself found a perverse satisfaction, unworthy ofher best moments, in thus emphasising her indifference to her husband'spresence; ignoring, with characteristic heedlessness, the fact that atwo-edged weapon is an ill thing to handle: and Lenox, accepting herunspoken intimation _au pied de la lettre_, steeled himself tohalf-cynical, half-stoical endurance.

  He had returned heartened, and fortified by a week of stirring sport,and by closer contact with a personality wholesome and invigorating asa hill wind; a sympathy of the practical order, that found expressionin matter-of-fact service and good fellowship, rather than in speech.He had given up all thought of leaving the station; had decided to sethis teeth, and go through with his ordeal, sooner than disappoint thesenew-found friends, who seemed already to have become a part of hislife. Such rapid intimacies are a distinctive feature of a countrywhere a guest may come for a night, and stay for a month; where allwhite men are brothers, in the widest sense of the word.

  And Eldred Lenox did not hold with half measures. Since he stood hisground in order to please the Desmonds, he held himself ready to fallin with any joint plans they might choose to make. Thus, he agreed toshare in their arrangements for the June camp, at Kajiar,--a naturalglade hid in the heart of Kalatope Forest: and even accepted, withoutdemur, Colonel Mayhew's proposal to preface the 'week' with a two days'house-party at the Chumba Residency;--a picturesque house, whose gardenof lawns, and roses, and English trees falls sheer to the eddying riverbelow. The two sportsmen had spent a couple of days here on their wayback, the Resident being down in Chumba on State business; and hissuggestion had been the natural outcome of Desmond's keen interest inthe book which was his hobby of the moment.

  "I must be down here then," he explained, "for the _Minjla Mela_, asuperstitious ceremony by which we test the luck of the State for thecoming year. An unfortunate buffalo is flung into the Ravee, justabove the rapids; and if he succumbs, or scrambles out on the far side,the gods will not fail us. But if he lands on the town bank, theywon't trouble their heads about us till next June. Naturally we do ourbest to prevent such a catastrophe, in spite of our conviction that thematter is settled by the will of the gods! As far as I know, theceremony is peculiar to Chumba; and this would be a good chance for youto see it, if you don't mind a trifle of heat, and if your wife wouldcare to come too, so much the better."

  "She'll come like a shot, thanks," Desmond answered heartily.

  "Good!--We'll get up a native dinner at the Palace in honour of theoccasion. My little girl has set her heart on the plan, rather to mywife's dismay. The Maurices want to come too; and we may have toinclude Garth, on her account; though I confess I wanted her formyself! She's worth talking to, that girl. There's a touch of geniusin her composition, and a touch of the folly that's apt to go alongwith it; or she would never give the gossips a chance to couple hername with Garth's. If he is in earnest, so much the worse for her.--Wemay count on you, Lenox, I hope?" he added, turning to the impassiveman at his side, whom he had unwittingly smitten between the joints ofhis harness.

  Lenox's muttered assent was a trifle indistinct, owing to the thickpipe-stem between his teeth, and rising deliberately, he passed out ofthe smoking-room into the wistaria-shadowed verandah, where theturbulent voice of the river seemed to echo his own mood. It was wellfor himself, and for James Garth also, that he ran no risk of meetingthe man at that moment.

  The thought of that first fortnight in June unnerved him. For ColonelMayhew's words had done more than turn the knife in an open wound.Lenox was blest, or curst, with that most pitiless of mentors, a Scotchconscience. Whatever Quita's failings, or her attitude to himself,there could be no shelving the fact that he was her husband:--theguardian of her good name, the one man on earth who could claim theright to criticise her conduct. Her probable repudiation both of hiscriticism, and his right to offer it, did not, in his view, justify himin standing aloof, if need for speech should arise. Possibly passion,smouldering at the heart of duty, urged him towards the desperateexperiment. But if so, he would not admit it, even to himself. Hemerely decided--with an access of fastidious disgust at the wholesituation--to accept this fate-sent opportunity for judging how far herbehaviour warranted Colonel Mayhew's kindly concern. For he knewenough of Garth and his methods to feel certain that, in his case, tocovet an invitation was to procure it.

  After all, he reflected bitterly, a closer acquaintance with factsmight cure him of an infatuation against which pride and inheritedinstinct had rebelled ill vain: and so intricate are the mazes ofself-deception, that he firmly believed in his own desire to be cured.

  It was, no doubt, solely in pursuance of this purpose that, a few dayslater, he added his initials, with a wry face of resignation, to asubscription list, proposing that the bachelors of the station shouldgive a ball on the third of June. He had not seen the inside of aballroom for years: but since the season seemed marked for strangeexperiences, this one might as well be included with the rest. And inthe meantime, this inconsistent misogynist slept little, smokedinordinately, and spent the greater part of his leisure at TerahCottage. Perhaps this also was part of the cure!

  Desmond noted the fact, not without an occasional spark of annoyance.For all his magnanimity, the man was masculine to the core;hot-blooded, and still very much a lover at heart. But pride and aboundless trust in the woman he had won had withheld him as yet fromserious comment.

  Lenox dined with them on the night of the dance; and came armed withprogrammes, at Honor's request.

  "Are you going to give me my share before we start?" he asked, as theyshook hands.

  "If I do, will you try to dance?"

  He laughed abruptly. "Not I. It would be a sight to make angels weep!I shall take you right away from the whole thing, and talk toyou--that's all. Is that good enough?"

  "Quite good enough!"

  He scanned an open programme with perplexed interest, as though it werean Egyptian hieroglyph.

  "How long do each of these things last?" he asked, with evidentamusement.

  "About twelve minutes, with the pause."

  "What's the good of twelve minutes? Can't I have them in batches,three at a time. Or would that be going quite out of bounds?"

  Honor laughed. . . . "I'm afraid so! Though it would be far nicer.But I will give you one 'batch,' and two isolated ones; and that's agenerous allowance, I assure you."

  "Thanks.--I suppose Desmond takes you in to supper?"

  "Yes. It's a standing engagement! Why don't you ask Miss Maurice?"There was a moment of silence.

  "We are not intimate enough for that," he answered, with a badimitation of unconcern; and Honor wondered, as she had done before now,wherein lay the key to a curiosity-provoking situation. But just thenDesmond joined them; and no more was said.

  The moment they entered the ballroom Lenox was aware of his wife,--thefocal point in a circle of men, distributing her favours with a smilingimpartiality that was, in itself, a delicate form of coquetry, whileGarth stood sentinel beside her, with an unmistakable suggestion of 'NoThoroughfare,' which he could assume to a nicety; and which Lenox notedwith a curse at the restrictions imposed upon civilised man.

  But a second glance at Quita crowded all else out of his mind. It washis first sight of her in full evening dress, and he stood spellboundby the radiant quality of her charm: a charm that triumphed over minorimperfections of feature and form; a mental and spiritual vitality thathad deepened rather than diminished with the years. Her dress, likeeverything about her, was an instinctive expression of herself: thoughLeno
x, while appreciating its harmony, could not have defined it in setterms. He knew that it was of velvet; that it sheathed her roundedslenderness as a rind sheathes its fruit; that the light and shade onits surface, as she moved, reminded him of willows in a wind; that,from shoulder to hem, the eye was nowhere checked, the simplicity ofoutline nowhere marred by objectless incidents of adornment. He notedalso that its indefinite colour was repeated in a row of aquamarines,that glistened like drops of sea-water at her throat.

  A light touch on his arm recalled him to outward things.

  "Captain Lenox, where are your manners?" Honor Desmond remonstrated,with laughter in her eyes. "The Mayhews have just gone past, and youlooked straight through them! Is that the way you welcome your guests?"

  He muttered an incoherent apology, and fervently hoped that she had notobserved the direction of his gaze. A vain hope, seeing that she was awoman!

  "Better get safe into the card-room before I do anything worse!" headded uneasily. "I'll be back for number five. Trust me not toforget."

  As he crossed the barn of a room,--lavishly draped with bazaar bunting,and starred with radiating bayonets,--his eyes lighted on KennethMalcolm, the Engineer subaltern, whose current of courtship had beenchecked by Maurice's arrival on the scene:--a boy of stalwart build;his straight features and well-poised head justifying the sobriquet ofApollo, bestowed upon him by an effusive admirer, whose sole reward hadbeen a cordial detestation. He leaned against the wall, absentlytwirling the cord of his programme; his attention centred on a cornerof the room, where Elsie Mayhew--an incarnate moonbeam of a girl--wascritically examining the pattern on her fan, while Maurice possessedhimself of her programme, and sprinkled it liberally with the letter M.In the boy's bottled-up resentment Lenox saw a reflection of his own;and the fact moved him to scorn rather than sympathy.

  "Damned idiots, both of us!" he reflected savagely. "A couple of dogswhose bones have been confiscated, and we haven't even the pluck tosnarl."

  The opening valse struck up as he reached the cardroom. Withoutlooking directly at his wife, he saw Garth's arm encircle her waist,saw him hold her thus, for an appreciable moment, before starting; andsat down to the whist table with murder in his heart.

  At number five he re-entered the ballroom to claim Honor Desmond forhis 'batch' of dances, and to take her, as he had said, right away fromit all. She found him little inclined for talk; yet none the lessquick to appreciate her understanding of his mood.

  "Thank you for bearing with me," he said, as they parted in one of themany doorways opening on to the long verandah. "I won't come in. I amin the humour for the profound philosophies of tobacco and the stars."

  "Better companions than a mere woman!" she answered, smiling into thegravity of his eyes. "Don't deny it. I have no taste for lip service."

  "Nor I the smallest gift for it. Still, truth is truth; and a gooddeal depends on the quality of--the mere woman."

  She vouchsafed him the stateliest shadow of a curtsey.

  "I believe I shall end in converting you, after all! Number twelve.Don't forget."

  And turning from him she saw that her husband stood a few paces off,watching them with a thoughtful scrutiny that caught at her heart.Gliding across the polished floor, she slipped a hand under his elbow,and leaned close to him.

  "Darling," she whispered, "I am so glad this is ours." Without a word,he put his arm round her, and swept her into the crowd.

  For a while Lenox followed them with his eyes, as they circled smoothlyin and out among the dancers, as notable a couple as the roomcontained. Then he raked the shifting crowd for Quita's grey-greenfigure,--in vain. Neither she nor Garth was to be seen. It neededsmall perspicacity to locate them: and grinding his teeth Lenox wentout again into a night jewelled with the unnumbered bonfires of theuniverse. Striking a match, he lit his pipe, in defiance of theknowledge that for the past few weeks he had been persistentlyoverstepping his self-imposed allowance, and fell to pacing the railedpath outside the building.

  Was it altogether his own fault, he wondered bitterly, that he stoodthus, cut off from the core of life, breaking his teeth upon the husksof it, and making believe that they satisfied his hunger? In thetragedies resulting from 'the ill-judged execution of the well-judgedplan of things,' that question flung, again and again into the'derisive silence of eternity,' mocks the soul with echo's answer.Where lies the blame? Where, indeed? For all his vaunted supremacyman is not always master of his fate. Circumstance, heredity, thedespicable trifle, the inexpert finger, which a certain type of humanis so zealous to thrust into an alien life, compass him about with acloud of witnesses to his own impotence.

  With which conclusion, softened by the kindly influence of druggedtobacco, Lenox knocked the ashes out of his pipe; and decided thatsince he was here to observe his wife and Garth, and to cure himself ofan undignified infatuation, it would be well to return to the ballroomtill number twelve.

  But as he moved forward a low laugh, near at hand, chained him to thespot. Then Quita emerged from a patch of shadow, closely followed byGarth. She tilted her chin, and flung a smiling threat at him over hershoulder.

  "If you can't be more reasonable, I shall cancel your remaining dancesand give them to the Riley boy." Which announcement brought himswiftly to her side; and Lenox failed to catch his murmured reply.They passed on without perceiving him; and he followed . . . merelyfrom a sense of duty!

  At one of the open doorways, that flung panels of light across theverandah, they paused; and he paused also, a few paces off. Thecouples within were forming themselves into ordered squares.

  "Lancers," she said, in a tone of distaste.

  "Are you dancing them?" he asked.

  "No."

  "Come and sit out again, then; and I'll be as reasonable as you please."

  She glanced quickly round the room, as if in search of something.

  "Very well," she said: and turning on the threshold, came face to facewith her husband.

  With a scarcely perceptible start, she acknowledged his grave bow ofrecognition, and drew back to let him pass. But he remained closeenough to catch what followed.

  "I'd rather dance than sit out, after all," she announced, with a briskchange of manner.

  "But, dear lady, . . . why?"

  She laughed. "What a question! I thought you pretended to knowsomething about women? I claim the divine right of whim. _Voila,tout_! One can't spend the evening in explanation. The spirit movesme to romp. It's infinitely more wholesome than mooning under thestars. All we want now is a cheery _vis-a-vis_. Ah . . . there'sMichel. The very man!"

  She signalled across the room with her fan, and Michael came skiddingand slithering towards her, a delighted girl clinging to his arm:--agirl in the glamour of her first season, a-thrill to her white kidfinger-tips because these rested on the sleeve of a living artist, whohad already paid her one or two chivalry-coated compliments.

  "Now why the deuce did she weather-cock round like that?" Lenoxwondered, floundering in the quicksands of masculine ignorance.

  But no answer suggested itself; because this woman, who was his, andyet not his,--this woman, with her many-hued personality, rich insubtle contradictions--was a sealed book to him, and seemed like toremain so. And what, after all, are the hearts that beat closest toour own but sealed books, which we open from time to time, at random;too often at the wrong page? But a ballroom is no fit place forabstract meditation. The lust of eye and ear, the pride of life,challenge the sense at every turn, till mere thought seems a mightybloodless affair.

  Lenox moved back to the doorway, leaned against the woodwork, andfolding his arms, surveyed the scene before him with the apatheticinterest of the large and mystified. The long room was crowded withjumbled atoms of colour, like a damaged kaleidoscope; with talk andlaughter; with the whisper of sweeping skirts, and the clink of spurs.Then the first provocative bars set every foot in motion; and thekaleidoscope effect was complete.

  Lenox,
--towering isolated, amid a world of light-hearted couples,--wasaware that beneath his surface indifference there lurked a certainshamefaced envy of these bewildering mortals who could shuffle off theyears, and revert, unabashed, to the entrancing follies of childhood;and who could yet, in lucid intervals, grapple undismayed withintricacies of Indian legislation, lead a forlorn hope, love and sufferand die, if need be, with a stiff lip, and an obstinate faith in 'theultimate decency of things.' For of a truth, the earth holds no morefantastic farrago of folly and heroism than your average human being;and musing on these things, Lenox decided that there must have beensome radical flaw in his own education.

  Not twenty feet away, the General himself--the host-in-chief of theevening--condemned, despite increasing years and girth, to the Etonjacket of boyhood, pranced and glided with elaborate precision, andtook every opportunity of twirling plump little Mrs Mayhew almost offher feet. Both laughed inordinately at each repetition of the mildjoke: and if the C.B. blazing on the General's mess-jacket, and thelittle lady's full-grown daughter contrasted oddly with their passingdisplay of childishness, both were serenely blind to the fact.

  But among a hundred dancers, not one plunged more whole-heartedly intothe folly of the moment than Quita. She had stationed herself oppositethe door where Lenox stood, and the very spirit of devilry seemed tohave entered into her, driving her to italicise every trait in herselfthat must needs grate on his fastidiousness where a woman's conduct wasconcerned. Her effervescent gaiety dominated the 'set,' which speedilydegenerated into a romp till, in the third figure, an incident occurredwhich partially brought her to her senses.

  The room reeled and hummed with spinning circles, like livingKatherine-wheels, when Quita,--losing her precarious hold upon herpartner's coat-sleeve, and flying outward, by a natural impetus thatmust have sent her crashing against the woodwork of the door,--foundherself caught, and steadied by her husband's hands at her waist. Fora lightning instant he held her thus--breathless and throbbing, like abird prisoned in his grasp: then he straightened himself, and let fallhis empty hands.

  "I am sorry," he muttered, barely looking at her. "But I was afraidyou might hurt yourself."

  "Thank you. It was very stupid of me."

  She left him hurriedly, red-hot vexation tingling in her cheeks: andwhen next the Katherine-wheels spun about, she remained stationary,smiling and waving her hand in answer to repeated invitations to "comeon."

  Lenox remained stationary also, though the whole scene had suddenlybecome hateful to him: for that moment of contact, and the rush ofcolour to his wife's face, had roused him to the need for immediateaction. Thus, when a final mad galop scattered the coherent atoms ofthe kaleidoscope, he intercepted Quita and her partner, as they hurriedout to secure a favourite nook.

  But the polite formula of the ballroom did not spring readily to hislips.

  "Have you a spare dance to give me?" he asked bluntly. "Since youevidently don't object to sitting out."

  His tone had in it more of demand than of request, an effect heightenedby his deliberate omission of her name; and against his will annoyancelurked in the last words. But some men have a positive talent forstanding in their own light.

  For a second or two her eyes challenged his in mute amazement. Eachseemed trying to read the other's thought. But pride darkens insight:and at the critical moment a slight movement of the arm she heldreminded her of Garth's glimpse behind the scenes. She pulled herselftogether, and made an obvious feint of consulting her programme.

  "If you really wanted one, you should have spoken earlier," she rebukedhim lightly. "I'm afraid I haven't so much as half an extra to offeryou now."

  He accepted his dismissal with a curt bow of acknowledgment.

  "Thought I wanted to make love to her, no doubt," he reflectedsavagely, as he moved away. And she passed on into the verandah,wondering . . . wondering why he had wanted that dance, and whether shewould have thrown some one over for him, but for Garth's opportunereminder at her elbow.

  On the opening of the next dance, Lenox sought and found Honor Desmond,silently offered his arm, and led her through the verandah out into thestarshine,--which is a reality in India, on moonless nights.

  "What a thundering relief it is to get away from it all!" he said atlength. "Would it bother you to stroll a little way up the hill? Weshall be crowded out here, in no time; and I must have another pipe."

  "Let's stroll then, by all means. I should enjoy it; and you know howI love tobacco. I saw you looking on at that dance; and I ratherenvied you. I often wish I could set aside a few dances just forlooking on, without having to make talk for any one. People interestme so passionately; always have done, since I can remember."

  "Even Button Quails, and black-hearted woman-haters?"

  "Yes. Especially the woman-haters; because they need converting!"

  "And are unconvertible," Lenox declared with a laugh. "But don't youever get sickened with the deadly sameness of the whole tribe ofus,--grinding ourselves to dust in the eternal treadmill of hatred andlove, hope and despair? Every conceivable human complication has beenrepeated _ad nauseam_ since Adam made a fool of himself in the gardenof Eden."

  "And through all that endless sameness, no two men and women have everbehaved twice alike! That's where the interest comes in, don't yousee? To-night, for instance, Miss Maurice and that pretty child ElsieMayhew are both wasting their sweetness on men quite unworthy of them;but each is doing the same thing in a fashion so entirely her own, thatit is not like looking on at the same play at all. I am speciallyconcerned over the Mayhew muddle, for I believe that handsome Engineerboy is capable of breaking his heart in earnest because Elsie has losthers _pro tem._,--engaging little goose that she is. Really Isometimes think that the man and woman puzzle is just an endless gameof cross questions and crooked answers!"

  Lenox laughed again, harshly.

  "That's a straight shot!" he said. "It's a mad world; and the maddestcreature in it is the man who stakes his happiness on the state of awoman's heart."

  Honor slipped her hand from his arm.

  "Really, Captain Lenox," she protested, half-laughing, half in earnest,"that remark almost amounts to an insult! What do you suppose Theowould say if he heard you?"

  "Wouldn't stop to pick his language," Lenox answered with a twistedsmile. "But his testimony counts for nothing. He has found the onewoman among a thousand, that even Solomon failed to find; and the Lordknows he didn't judge them from hearsay!"

  The sincerity underlying his bluntness brought the blood to Honor'scheeks. "Theo has simply found--a woman who loves him," she answeredsoftly. "A discovery most men can make if they choose; even rankheretics like you! Will you forgive me, I wonder, if I say that Ibelieve the thing you really need, though you may not guess it,is . . . a woman in your life?"

  Lenox did not answer: and they walked on for a time in silence.

  "Have I vexed you?" Honor asked at length.

  "No. You touched an exposed nerve. That was all. And I should likeyou to know the truth now; or at least part of it.--Five years ago Idid take . . . a woman into my life, as you put it; and I have neverknown real peace or comfort since."

  Honor started, and turned upon him a face of incredulity.

  "Captain Lenox! Do you mean--have you actually--been married?"

  "I actually am married, in the eyes of the law, at least. What's more,my wife is here, in Dalhousie, in that cursed ballroom,--with neithermy name nor my ring to protect her--playing the fool for the amusementor perdition of another chap. You spoke of her a minute ago. I needhardly say more, need I?"

  "No, no. I understand it all now," she murmured, deeply moved. "Thenthat was why you wanted to go away last month?"

  "Yes."

  "And I stupidly made things harder, in my blind zeal to help you?"

  "No, indeed. You simply convinced me, without suspecting it, that itwould be cowardly to bolt at sight. Besides, it would have amounted toan open con
fession that--one cared."

  "And don't you--care?"

  Lenox clenched his teeth upon an inarticulate sound; and his ambermouthpiece snapped like a stick of sealing-wax. He took the pipe fromhis mouth; eyed it ruefully, and slipped it into his breast-pocket.

  "A good friend gone," he muttered. "And all on account of a woman whodoesn't care a snap of the fingers whether one is alive or dead."

  "In my opinion that remains to be proved."

  "Does it? Isn't her conduct with that confounded ladykiller proofenough to convince you?"

  "No."

  "Well, then, look here. Ten minutes ago I went so far as to ask herfor a dance. She gave me the snub direct: and she'll not get a chanceto refuse another request of mine--that's certain."

  Honor's lips lifted at the corners.

  "I wonder what tone of voice you asked her in?" was all she said.

  "Quite the wrong one, no doubt. I was in no humour for going on myknees. But she knew right enough that I wouldn't have risked refusal,unless I was very keen on the dance."

  "All the same, you _will_ give her another chance. You must. No actof folly on her part can make it right for you to leave her in such afalse position."

  "The position was her own choice,--not mine."

  "One could guess as much. Yet the fact remains that she is--yours, tomake or mar: and it seems to me no less than your duty to pocket yourpride, and save her from her own foolishness in spite of herself."

  Lenox drew an audible breath, like a man in pain.

  "You do know how to hit between the eyes," he said very low. "But--Ihave suffered enough at her hands."

  "And has she suffered nothing--at yours?"

  Honor's voice was scarcely louder than his own, and her pulses throbbedat her own daring. Lenox stood stock-still, and looked at her.

  "Upon . . my . . soul," he said slowly, "you are a stunning woman!I . . ."

  "Please don't think I meant you to answer such a question," she brokein hurriedly, with flaming cheeks.

  "Of course not. You meant it as a reminder that there are two sides toevery question."

  "Yes. How nice of you to understand! I have no shadow of right totake you to task. But when the fate of two lives seems hanging on athread, one dare not keep silence.--Now, I think we ought to turn back.And I wonder if you would mind telling me a little about your wife,"she added, with diplomatic intent to prolong his softened mood. "Sheis so charming; so individual. But I haven't been able to get at herat all. She seems almost to dislike me; and I am just beginning toguess why."

  "Nonsense . . . nonsense," he protested brusquely. "You are entirelymistaken."

  "That also remains to be proved!"

  They retraced their steps down the rough path that descends from theMall to the Assembly Rooms, walking very slowly, as people do whenabsorbed. Honor, with all a woman's skill, imparted a flavour ofreminiscence to their talk; and no man with a spark of love in hisheart can hold out, for long, against the magic suggestiveness ofmemory. For all his guarded indifference of manner, she felt the icemelting under her touch: and the passionate human interest, of whichshe had already spoken, held her, to exclusion of such minortrivialities as possibly distracted partners. For this woman, thehuman note,--be it never so untuneful--surpassed the sublimest musicplucked from the heart of wood or wire.

  Arrived on the gravel ledge outside the building, they paused in ashaft of light, still intent on their subject; till the inspiritingrhythm of a polka shattered the stillness, and Honor, turning hastily,caught sight of an erect figure in the doorway behind her.

  "There's Theo. He seems to be looking for me," she said. "Why, wemust have talked through two dances. Come."

  But at the foot of the verandah steps Lenox held out his hand.

  "The evening is ended for me. I am going straight home, to think overall you have said. I'll be round by ten to-morrow. Good-night--andthank you."

  He italicised the last words by a vigorous hand-clasp; and a momentlater she stood in the doorway, confronting her husband. A glance athis face put her laughing apology to flight.

  "I tell you what it is, Honor," he broke out hotly, "you're going toofar altogether. Here has Maurice been letting half Dalhousie know thathe couldn't find you anywhere; and the last dance--was mine. Heavenknows where you buried yourselves. I didn't attempt to look. Lenoxhas no business to monopolise you in this way. Woman-hater, indeed!"

  "It was not _his_ fault," she flashed out, in an impulse more generousthan wise: but her blood was as quick to take fire as his own.

  "Then it was yours, which is fifty times worse."

  Honor lifted her head with a superb dignity of gesture.

  "As you please," she said quietly. "It is useless to attemptexplanation here, or anywhere, till you are more . . like yourself."

  Returning couples were by now besieging the doorway; and she passed oninto the ballroom, her head still high, her lips compressed, lestothers should note their tendency to quiver. A woman who loves the manof her choice with every fibre of her being does not readily forget,though she may forgive, his first rough words to her.

  Honor was claimed at once by Kenneth Malcolm, a favourite partner, boythough he was. But the keen edge of her interest was blunted. Shewanted one thing only to be alone with Theo; to set his mind at rest:and those 'separated selves,' who drew her like nothing else on earth,became of a sudden mere voluble obstructions between herself and herdesire.

  Half an hour later she came up to him, where he stood, laughing andtalking in a group of men.

  "I am tired, Theo," she said in a low tone. "Mr Maurice is getting mydandy for me. But don't come away if you'd rather stop on."

  Their eyes locked for an instant.

  "Is that likely?" he asked, a gleam in his own.

  "I don't know."

  "You do know. Look sharp and get your things on."

  Michael Maurice did not hurry himself over the congenial task ofsettling his _deesse veritable_ among the cushions of her dandy,--ahybrid conveyance, half canoe, half cane lounge, slung from theshoulders of four men, by an ingenious arrangement of straps and crosspoles. Closer acquaintance had deepened his admiration: but a namelesssomething in her manner warned him that it must not be expressed in hisusual promiscuous fashion. She had refused, very sweetly butdecisively, the honour of appearing in his great picture. But Desmondhad succumbed to the temptation of procuring a portrait of her and'little Paul.' "At the worst, I can sell a pony to pay for it," he hadsaid, in answer to her remonstrance. "And I shall think it cheap atthe price!"

  And now, as the dandy-bearers turned to mount the ascent, he came tohis wife's side. She had drawn off her gloves, and one hand rested onthe woodwork of her canoe. He covered it with his own, walking by herthus, for a few steps, in silence: and it was enough.

  "Mount now," she commanded him softly. "And let's hurry home, I'veever so much to tell you."

  He obeyed: and they journeyed upward to familiar music of hoof-beats,and the murmur of _jhampannies_, wrapt about by the magic of a night sostill that all the winds seemed to have gone round with the sun to theother side of the world.

  A tray set with glass and silver awaited them in the drawing-room.

  Honor, entering first, slipped the long cloak from her shoulders with asatisfied sigh, a sense of passing from the unreal to the real, whichshe often experienced on returning from a dance: and underlying all, aprofound pity for the lone and ill-mated women, in a world of oddmentsand misfits, who have never felt the thrill of such home-comings asthis of hers to-night. Then she swept round, and fronted herhusband:--a gleaming figure, like a statue cut in ivory; no colouranywhere, save the living tints of her face and eyes and hair.

  "Well?" she laughed, on a low clear note of happiness. "I hope you areproperly ashamed of yourself!"

  But before the words were out, he had her in his arms; and for asupreme moment the great illusion was theirs that they were not two,but one, as the Book de
crees.

  Then she pushed him gently into a chair, and kneeling beside him drewhis arm around her, resting her head against his in a fashioninexpressibly tender. The natural dignity that was hers set a highvalue on such sweet familiarities: and if Desmond submitted to them insilence, it was because the man in him was too deeply moved for speech.

  Then she told him, at some length, all that she had gleaned of the pastand present relations between Lenox and his wife.

  "Now, do you see how I came to lose sight of everything for the timebeing?" she concluded, smiling up at him. "So far as I can gather,things seem to be at a deadlock, unless one can persuade him to takethe first step forward."

  "And you want to play Providence, as usual? Is that it?"

  "Don't laugh at me, Theo! I am in earnest. I would gladly move heavenand earth to put things straight between them."

  "But this seems a case of moving a Scot. A far tougher job, I can tellyou!"

  "Well, I think I moved him a little to-night; and he is coming roundto-morrow for a ride." Desmond frowned; and she made haste to add;"Now that is just where I must have your co-operation, Theo, or I cando nothing. I want you to trust me, and give me a free hand for thesenext few weeks. Will you, . . please?"

  "Does that mean I am to let you be about with Lenox as much as youchoose?"

  "Probably not more than I have been so far. I only want to be surethat whatever I do you won't speak to me again as you did to-night."

  She felt the muscles of his arm tighten.

  "I think you may feel sure of that much," he said. "But you are askinga very hard thing of me, Honor. Lenox is a thorough good chap; and Idon't want to be driven into disliking him. It isn't as if I were asaint, like Paul. I'm just a man, and a grasping one at that! What'smore, I am very jealous for you; and I have the right to be. Societydoesn't recognise philanthropic motives. It takes you and your acts attheir face value . . ."

  "I know, I know,"--she straightened herself impulsively; her handsclasped, her bare arms laid across his knees. "And I'll be ever socircumspect, dearest, I promise you. But oh, Theo, . . . don't youunderstand? It is just because we are so blessedly happy, you and I,that the thought of what those two foolish people are missing troublesme so sorely."

  Such an appeal was irresistible. They had lived deeply enough, thesetwo, to know the real importance of happiness.

  "Bless your big heart," he answered warmly. "I understand rightenough. By all means help 'em if you can. I'll not baulk you. Butit's a delicate task; and I don't quite see how you are going to setabout it."

  "Nor do I,--yet. One can only trust to intuition, and the inspirationof the moment. From the little he said, it seems that the first moveought to come from her: and possibly my intimacy with him may help tobring her to her senses. Everything depends, of course, on how muchshe cares. That's still an unknown quantity. But she dislikes mealready; which is a promising sign!--Now I am going to fill your pipe,and pour you out a peg; and we'll enjoy ourselves till it's time forsecond supper!"

  It is just such quiet hours of heart-to-heart intimacy that constitutetrue marriage. For in these uneventful moments links are forged andsoldered strong enough to resist the buffeting of storms, or thedeadlier, corrosive influence of those minor miseries which poison thevery core of life.

  A handful of stars--visible through the open glass door into theverandah--had began to pale, when Desmond lifted his wife to her feet,and blew out the lamp. In the profound stillness their footsteps andlow laughter sounded up the wooden stairs. Then a door shut somewherein the house, and the night absorbed them into herself.