I were you." "It's true all the same," maintained Tommy. "You know it's true." "I know nothing," said Monck. "I've nothing whatever against Dacre." "You've nothing in favour of him anyway," growled Tommy. "Nothing particular; but I presume your sister has." There was just a hint of irony in the quiet rejoinder. Tommy winced. "Stella! Great Scott, no! She doesn't care the toss of a halfpenny for him. I know that now. She only accepted him because she found herself in such a beastly anomalous position, with all the spiteful cats of the regiment arrayed against her, treating her like a pariah." "Did she tell you so?" There was no irony in Monck's tone this time. It fell short and stern. Again Tommy glanced at him as one uncertain. "Not likely," he said. "Then why do you make the assertion? What grounds have you for making the assertion?" Monck spoke with insistence as one who meant to have an answer. And the boy answered him, albeit shamefacedly. "I really can't say, Monck. I'm the sort of fool that sees things without being able to explain how. But that Stella has the faintest spark of real love for that fellow Dacre,—well, I'd take my dying oath that she hasn't." "Some women don't go in for that sort of thing," commented Monck dryly. "Stella isn't that sort of woman." Hotly came Tommy's defence. "You don't know her. She's a lot deeper than I am." Monck laughed a little. "Oh, you're deep enough, Tommy. But you're transparent as well. Now your sister on the other hand is quite inscrutable. But it is not for us to interfere. She probably knows what she is doing—very well indeed." "That's just it. Does she know? Isn't she taking a most awful leap in the dark?" Keen anxiety sounded in Tommy's voice. "It's been such horribly quick work, you know. Why, she hasn't been out here six weeks. It's a shame for any girl to marry on such short notice as that. I said so to her, and she—she laughed and said, 'Oh, that's beggar's choice! Do you think I could enjoy life with your angels in paradise in unmarried
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