fit, is it? But I shall grow to it in time. Do you know, I
believe I'm going to like being your wife?"

"Why?" said Merryon.

She laughed--that laugh of irrepressible gaiety that had surprised him
before.

"Oh, just because I shall so love fighting your battles for you," she
said. "It'll be grand sport."

"Think so?" said Merryon.

"Oh, you bet!" said the Dragon-Fly, with gay confidence. "Men never know
how to fight. They're poor things--men!"

He himself laughed at that--his grim, grudging laugh. "It's a world of
fools, Puck," he said.

"Or knaves," said the Dragon-Fly, wisely. And with that she stretched up
her arms above her head and laughed again. "Now I know what it feels
like," she said, "to have risen from the dead."

CHAPTER III

COMRADES

There came the flash of green wings in the cypresses and a raucous
scream of jubilation as the boldest parakeet in the compound flew off
with the choicest sweetmeat on the tiffin-table in the veranda. There
were always sweets at tiffin in the major's bungalow. Mrs. Merryon loved
sweets. She was wont to say that they were the best remedy for
homesickness she knew.

Not that she ever was homesick. At least, no one ever suspected such a
possibility, for she had a smile and a quip for all, and her laughter
was the gayest in the station. She ran out now, half-dressed, from her
bedroom, waving a towel at the marauder.

"That comes of being kind-hearted," she declared, in the deep voice that
accorded so curiously with the frothy lightness of her personality.
"Everyone takes advantage of it, sure."

Her eyes were grey and Irish, and they flashed over the scene
dramatically, albeit there was no one to see and admire. For she was
strangely captivating, and perhaps it was hardly to be expected that
she should be quite unconscious of the fact.

"Much too taking to be good, dear," had been the verdict of the
Commissioner's wife when she had first seen little Puck Merryon, the
major's bride.

But then the Commissioner's wife, Mrs. Paget, was so severely plain in
every way that perhaps she could scarcely be regarded as an impartial
judge. She had never flirted with any one, and could not know the joys
thereof.

Young Mrs. Merryon, on the other hand, flirted quite openly and very
sweetly with every man she met. It was obviously her nature so to do.
She had doubtless done it from her cradle, and would probably continue
the practice to her grave.

"A born wheedl