disconcerting directness of gaze
which had sealed his lips when they were upon the verge of speech.

For all his modesty, Wyndham could not fail to interpret these signs
according to his heart's desire; and when, on the night of Evelyn's
accident, Honor promised him an early ride, prefaced by _chota
hazri_[26] in the verandah, he told himself that he need wait no
longer--that the great moment of his life had come at last.

[26] Early breakfast.

On the stroke of seven he mounted the verandah steps. A camp table,
set with fruit, freshly made toast, and a tea-tray, awaited him in a
shadowed corner. Two thick bamboo blinds, let down between the wide
arches, converted that end of the verandah into a room, its low-toned
coolness broken only by an arrow of sunlight, shooting through a gap
in one of the blinds, like a streak of powdered gold. Wyndham's eyes
lingered approvingly on every detail of the homely scene; and he
caught himself wondering what his sensations would be half an hour
hence; what words he should speak to her when the dreaded, longed-for
moment arrived.

A light footstep reached his ears; and he turned sharply round to find
her standing in the open doorway.

She did not come forward at once, nor did she speak. For the man's
face was transfigured. She beheld, in that instant, his unveiled heart
and spirit--foresaw the ordeal that awaited her.

Noting her hesitation, he came forward with unconcealed eagerness.

"Good morning," she murmured mechanically. There seemed nothing else
that could be said.

Then a wave of colour surged into her face; for he kept the hand she
gave him, and drew her towards the privacy of the tea-table. She would
have sacrificed much at that moment for the power to speak to prevent
the pain she was bound to inflict; but her heart seemed to be beating
in her throat; and she endured, as best she might, the controlled
intensity of his look and tone.

"You know--surely you know what I find it so hard to say--I love
you,--Honor, with all there is of me. I want you--God knows how I want
you! And--you----?"

He bent his head to receive the answer that need not be spoken in
words. But all vestige of colour was gone from her face, and the
unsteadiness of her beautiful mouth cut him to the heart.

"Oh, forgive me!" she pleaded. "I have been thoughtless,
selfish,--blind. But you seemed so entirely my friend--I did not
guess. I would have given the world to have spared you--_this_."