etired to the study to enjoy it at
his leisure. It proved to be short, and contained little beyond
querulous upbraiding. Her husband could almost catch the tone of her
voice as he read; and the light of satisfaction left his face. Evelyn
had an insatiable appetite for long and detailed letters, though she
by no means returned them in kind; and it appeared that Theo had not
written for a week. In the fulness of his days he had not realised the
fact which was now brought forcibly to his notice.

"It's just laziness and selfishness," she wrote in her sweeping
fashion, "when you _know_ how I look out for your letters, to leave me
a whole week without a line. If it was _me_, there might be some
excuse, because there's always something or another going on, and I
never seem to get a minute to sit down and write. But you must have
hours and hours of spare time in the long days down there. I expect
you play chess with Major Wyndham all the while, and quite forget
about writing to me. I suppose if you were ill _some one_ would have
the decency to write and tell me. But if you don't write yourself
_directly_ you get this, I shall think something dreadful has
happened; and it's such a nuisance not to know if you are all right. I
can't enjoy things properly a bit."

And so on, _ad lib._, _da capo_, until the end.

Having read it through twice, with a flicker of amusement in his tired
eyes, he sat down straightway, wrote for a quarter of an hour at the
top of his speed, and left the letter ready for the afternoon post. It
contained a polite apology for remissness, followed by an account in
bare outline of his doings during the past five days; a few details in
regard to Harry's illness; and an intimation that if letters were
short, she must remember that, for the present, every hour of spare
time would be taken up with nursing the Boy or writing detailed
accounts to his mother. And, in truth, before that wearisome illness
was over Mrs[.] Denvil and her boy's Captain had struck up a lasting
friendship across six thousand miles of sea.

* * * * *

On her return from a tennis party the following afternoon Evelyn
Desmond found the letter awaiting her; and her face took such rueful
lines as she read it, that Honor's anxiety was roused.

"_Evelyn_--what is it?" she asked, a slight catch in her breath.

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders in meek resignation.

"Oh, it's only rather more Kohatish than usual!