eager light into
his dark blue eyes.

Nevertheless, an hour later found him still sitting there. Ethel's
depression had vanished, to be followed by a mood of wayward
merriment for which the honest, straightforward soldier was totally
at a loss to account. Sincere himself, he looked for sincerity in
others. If Ethel's gravity had been unfeigned, how could it so soon
give place to her present buoyancy? Not the strictest code of
hospitality could demand that a hostess should straightway toss
aside the thought of the parting guest who had gone away to battle
and, perhaps, to sudden death. And, if the girl had been insincere
in her parting from Weldon, why should she be sincere in her present
absorption in his own interests? And, if her regrets for Weldon were
as great as they had seemed to be, then what was the use of his
remaining by her side any longer? The horns of the dilemma extended
themselves to infinity and branched again and again as they
extended. Meanwhile, his eyes were full of trouble, and his answers
to her questions were vague and faltering. Until her sudden trip to
Johannesburg, Captain Frazer had taken the girl as a matter of
course. Since then, he had begun to doubt, and the doubts were
thickening.

But, after all, there was no real reason for doubt. During her one
short season in London, the Captain had met Ethel constantly, he had
been quite obviously the favorite of the old aunt who had presided
over the girl's introduction to society, and his later meetings with
Ethel at sundry week-end gatherings had convinced him that he had no
serious rival. Then had come the war; and Ethel's absence from town
had made a farewell impossible. Captain Frazer had sailed away,
leaving the past behind him; but the future was still his, to be
lost or won, according to the use he made of his manhood's chances.

And then, on the dazzling summer morning which had ushered in the
new century, he had caught a glimpse of Ethel riding towards home.
Three days later, as he had gone away down the broad white steps, he
had felt convinced that the future already lay in his grasp. It had
been the selfsame Ethel, unchanged and changeless to his loyal mind,
who had met him with smiling, eager cordiality. The year of
separation was cast aside; their friendship began again at the
precise spot where it had been broken off.

Since then, he had seen her often, occasionally alone, sometimes
with her mother, sometimes the central figure