nted of course to see him, but you
should not blame him for loving his work. You blamed him before because
he was changeable; now he has done so well, you must be proud." She
smiled at him with determined cheerfulness. "_I_ am proud. And it is
not as if it were making him ill. He finds time to play. Honor Ward
often writes and she tells me--"

"Miss Ward seems an adept at play," returned Stephen dryly.

In truth, the lavishness of the entertainments which Honor had planned
during the past two years had called the attention of even the English
papers. Pixie had read aloud descriptions thereof in the journals in
the northern town where Captain Victor was still stationed, and Bridgie
listening thereto had exclaimed in horror: "Special liveries for all the
men-servants just for that one evening! How wicked! All that money for
a few hours, when poor children are starving, and myself wanting a
velvet coat..."

At first Pixie had divined that Honor was trying to drown her sorrow in
gaiety, and was even guilty of a girlish desire to "show off" before her
former lover, but as the months grew into years it was impossible to
read her letters and not realise that her enjoyment was real, not
feigned, and that she had outgrown regret. Yes, Honor was happy; and to
judge from her accounts Stanor was happy too, able even in his busiest
days to spare time to join the revels, and, indeed, to help in their
organisation.

"Miss Ward is an adept at play. I don't approve of these gorgeous
entertainments," said Stephen, and Pixie's eyes lightened with a
mischievous flash.

"Seems to me you are never satisfied! Now for myself nothing could be
gorgeous enough!" She held out a brown teapot with a broken spout.
"The water's boiling. Pour it in please, and don't splash! I'll carry
it right in, for Pat is impatient. We mustn't keep him waiting." She
waited until the pot was safely on the tray, and then added a warning:
"Please don't talk about--things--before Pat. He'd worry, but I'd like
your advice. Another time, perhaps, when we are alone." Her eyes met
his, gravely beseeching, and he looked searchingly back.

Yes, she had suffered. It was no longer the face of a light-hearted
child. Loyal as ever, Pixie would not listen to a word against her
friend, but what secret was she hiding in her heart?

CHAPTER TWENTY.

STEPHEN IS ANSWERED.

For three days after Pixie's arrival Stephen Glynn absented himself from
the