ene of warmth and ease, to lose yourself in the
depths of an enormous spring chair, and gaze in that wilderness of red,
while the wood crackles, and blue flickers up like a phantom light in
the blazing scarlet. It is many years since I passed a good old
English Christmas, with plum pudding and bells chiming over the snow.
Bah! I cannot endure to think of it--I get so green with envy."

"I am afraid I never cared for the winter. The sun is better than
artificial warmth--the East is rosier than the fireside."

"But you must yearn sometimes to get home to your family and friends.
Have you no mother you long to kiss--no father who is pining for a
sight of his daughter's smile, and old chums waiting to greet you with
a hearty handshake and a cheery welcome?"

Eleanor shakes her head mournfully--her large soft eyes look sad and
wistful--she is no hypocrite--she never could pretend.

"No; England is all a blank. My whole interest in life is centred in
my husband."

Involuntarily a pang of pity shoots through the man's heart. He hardly
knows why, since she is so happy in Quinton's love.

He mistrusts him, for men are quicker in reading each other than a
woman blinded by skin-deep fascination.

Many a trusting heart has been won by the pink light from a lamp
falling on a handsome profile, by the faultless cut of a frock coat, or
by a good seat on horseback.

Poor little Eleanor! Poor humanity!

"It is a mistake to rely too much on love," says Major Short. "It
sometimes fails us, and then----"

He pauses, seeing the look of pain upon Eleanor's face.

"I was speaking of myself," he adds half apologetically. "Look for
instance, at my parents, at home in the old country. What good is
their affection now? What use am I to them, stuck here in India?
True, we correspond, but letters give us no sight of the familiar face,
no kiss from the lips that may be dead and cold before we meet again.
But love, Mrs. Quinton, is over for ever in my life, it is a memory
alone, a dream of the silent past."

Eleanor's eyes are deeply sympathetic; she is a woman to inspire
confidence.

Major Short continues, though he is surprised at himself for so doing:

"Yes, I was in love once, it was the one sincere and overruling passion
of my life." He lowers his voice as he speaks. "You brought it back
to me when you said that all your interests were centred in your
husband."

He holds out a little case to Eleanor.

"I always ca