ssessed of the humble relations which had
subsisted between Miss Grainger and his uncle's family, had rendered
him more confident in his manner, and given him even a sort of air of
protection towards them. Certain it is, each day made him less and less
a favourite at the villa, while Loyd, on the other hand, grew in esteem
and liking with everyone of them. A preference which, with whatever tact
shrouded, showed itself in various shapes.

"I perceive," said Calvert one morning, as they sat at breakfast
together, "my application for an extension of leave is rejected. I
am ordered to hold myself in readiness to sail with drafts for some
regiments in Upper India!" he paused for a few seconds, and then
continued. "I'd like anyone to tell me what great difference there is
in real condition between an Indian officer and a transported felon. In
point of daily drudgery there is little, and as for climate the felon
has the best of it."

"I think you take too dreary a view of your fortune. It is not the sort
of career I would choose, nor would it suit me, but if my lot had fallen
that way, I suspect I'd not have found it so unendurable."

"No. It would not suit you. There's no scope in a soldier's life for
those little sly practices, those small artifices of tact and ingenuity,
by which subtlety does its work in this world. In such a career, all
this adroitness would be clean thrown away."

"I hope," said Loyd, with a faint smile, "that you do not imagine that
these are the gifts to achieve success in any calling."

"I don't know--I am not sure, but I rather suspect they find their place
at the Bar."

"Take my word for it, then, you are totally mistaken. It is an error
just as unworthy of your good sense as it is of your good feeling!" And
he spoke with warmth and energy.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried Calvert "For three months I have been exploring
to find one spot in your whole nature that would respond fiercely to
attack, and at last I have it."

"You put the matter somewhat offensively to me, or I'd not have replied
in this fashion--but let us change the topic, it is an unpleasant one."

"I don't think so. When a man nurtures what his friend believes to be a
delusion, and a dangerous delusion, what better theme can there be than
its discussion?"

"I'll not discuss it," said Loyd, with determination.

"You'll not discuss it?"

"No!"

"What if I force you? What if I place the question on grounds so direct
and so perso