iding off the effects. You
were jolly well going it last night. And you jolly well _look_ it this
morning. Good thing I'm free on the fifteenth to haul you away from all
this".

Perhaps because they had first met at an age when eighteen months seemed
an immense gap between them, Lance had never quite dropped the
elder-brotherly attitude of St Rupert days.

"Yes--a rare good thing----" Roy echoed, and stopped with a visible
jerk.

"Well, what's the hitch? Hit out, man. Don't mind me."

There was a flash of impatience, an undernote of foreknowledge, in his
tone, that made confession at once easier and harder for Roy.

"I suppose it was--pretty glaring", he admitted, twitching his head away
from those strong friendly fingers. "The fact is--we're ... as good as
engaged----"

Again he broke off, arrested by the mask-like stillness of Desmond's
face.

"Congrats, old man", he said at last, in a level tone. "I got the
impression ... a few weeks ago, you were not ready for the plunge. But
you've done it--in record time." A pause. Roy sat there
tongue-tied--unreasonably angry with himself and Rose. "Why 'as good
as...?' Is it to be ... not official?"

"Only till to-morrow. You see, it all came ... rather in a rush. She
thought ... we thought ... better talk things over first between
ourselves. After all...."

"Yes--after all," Lance took him up. "You do know a precious lot about
each other! How much ... does _she_ know ... about _you_?"

"Oh, my dancing and riding, my temperament and the colour of my
eyes--four very important items!" said Roy, affecting a lightness he was
far from feeling.

Lance ignored his untimely flippancy. "Have you ever ... happened to
mention ... your mother?"

"Not yet. Why----?" The question startled him.

"It occurred to me. I merely wondered----"

"Well, of course, I shall--to-night."

Lance nodded, pensively fingered his riding-crop, and remarked, "D'you
imagine now she's going to let you bury yourself up Gilgit way--with me?
Besides--you'll hardly care ... shall we call it 'off'?"

"Well you _are_----! Of course I'll care. I'm damned if we call it
'off.'"

At that the mask vanished from Desmond's face. His hand closed
vigorously on Roy's shoulder. "Good man," he said in his normal voice.
"I'll count on you. That's a bargain." Their eyes met in the glass, and
a look of understanding passed between them. "Feeling a bit above
yourself, are you?"

Roy drew a great breath. "It's