Such speeches are impossible to answer; and Honor was thankful that the main body of troops arrived in time to save her from the futile attempt.
But she was only at the beginning of her ordeal.
By the time that Mrs Olliver and six men had wrung her hand with varying degrees of vigour, each adding a characteristic tribute of thanks and praise, her cheeks were on fire; and a mist, which she tried vainly to dispel, blurred her vision.
Through that mist, she was aware of Frank vigorously shaking hands with Desmond, scolding and blessing him in one breath. "Ah, Theo, man, you're a shocking bad lot!" was her sisterly greeting. "Never clear out o' one frying-pan till you're into the next! Thank the Powers Miss Meredith was handy." And swinging round on her heel she accosted the girl herself. "No mistaking the stock you come of, Honor, me dear!"
Submerged in blushes, Honor could scarce command her voice. "But really – I only – "
"You only hit the bull's eye like a man, Miss Meredith," Captain Olliver took her up promptly. "The Major never told us he was adding a crack shot to the regiment!" And he swept her a bow that reduced her to silence.
More overwhelming than all were the few direct words from Colonel Buchanan himself; a tall, hard-featured Scot, so entirely absorbed in his profession that he never, save of dire necessity, set foot in a lady's drawing-room.
Paul Wyndham introduced him, and moved aside, leaving them together. For an instant he treated the girl to the quiet scrutiny of clear blue eyes, unpleasantly penetrating. He had scarcely looked at her till now. Still unreconciled to Desmond's marriage, he had resented the introduction of a third woman into the regiment; and he found himself momentarily bewildered by her beauty.
"I ought to be better acquainted with you, Miss Meredith," he said a little stiffly, sincerity struggling through natural reticence, like a light through a fog. "I'm no lady's man, as you probably know, but I had to come and thank you to-night. Desmond's quite my finest officer – no disrespect to your brother; he knows it as well as I do – "
"Here you are, Colonel!" Geoff Olliver thrust a long tumbler into his senior's hand. "We're going to let off steam by drinking Miss Meredith's health before we go back."
Honor looked round hastily, in hopes of effecting an escape, and was confronted by Desmond's eyes looking straight into her own. He lifted his glass with a smile of the frankest friendliness; and the rest followed his example.
"Miss Meredith, your very good health."
The words went round the room in a deep disjointed murmur; and Frank Olliver, stepping impulsively forward, held out her glass to the girl.
"Here's to your health and good luck, with all my heart, Honor, … the Honor o' the regiment!" she added, with a flash of her white teeth.
Uproarious shouts greeted the spontaneous sally.
"Hear, hear! Well played, indeed, Mrs Olliver! Pity Meredith couldn't have heard that."
Olliver laid a heavy hand on Desmond's shoulder.
"Tell you what, old chap," he said. "You must come back with us; and, by Jove, we'll make a night of it. Finest possible thing for you after a week's moping on the sick list; and we'll just keep Mackay hanging round in case you get knocked out of shape. I'll slip into uniform myself and follow on. That suit you, Colonel?"
"Down to the ground; if Mackay has no objection."
But Mackay knew his men too well to have anything of the sort; and Desmond's eyes gleamed.
"How about uniform for me, sir?" he asked. "I could manage it after a fashion."
Colonel Buchanan smiled.
"No doubt you could! But I'll overlook it to-night. The fellows want you. Won't do to keep them waiting!"
Followed a babel of talk and laughter, in the midst of which Honor, who had moved a little apart, became aware that Desmond was at her side.
"Never mind them, Honor," he said in a low voice. "They mean it very well, and they don't realise that it's a little overwhelming for us both. I won't pile it on by saying any more on my own account. Wait till I get a chance to repay you in kind – that's all!"
His words spurred her to a sudden resolve.
"You have the chance now, if it doesn't seem like taking a mean advantage of – things."
"Mean advantages are not in your line. You've only to say the word."
"Then stick to the Frontier!" she answered, an imperative ring in her low voice. "Doesn't to-night convince you that you've no right to leave them all?"
His face grew suddenly grave.
"The only right is to stand by Ladybird – at all costs."
"Yes, yes – I know. But remember what I said about her side of it. Give her the chance to find herself, Theo; and give me your word now to think no more about leaving the Border. Will you?"
He did not answer at once, nor did he remove his eyes from her face.
"Do you care so much what I do with the rest of my life?" he said at last very quietly.
"Yes – I do; for Ladybird's sake."
"I see. Well, there's no denying your privilege – now to have some voice in the matter. I give you my word, and if it turns out a mistake, the blame be on my own head. The fellows are making a move now. I must go. Good-night."
The men departed accordingly with much clatter of footsteps and jingling of spurs; and only Mrs Olliver remained behind.
Evelyn Desmond had succeeded in slipping away unnoticed a few minutes earlier. She alone, among them all, had spoken no word of gratitude to her friend.
CHAPTER IX.
WE'LL JUST FORGET
"Les petites choses ont leur importance; c'est par elles toujours qu'on se perde."
"So the picnic was a success?"
"Yes, quite. Mrs Rivers was so clever. She paired us off beautifully. My pair was Captain Winthrop of the Ghurkas; an awfully nice man. He talked to me the whole time. He knows Theo. Says he's the finest fellow in Asia! Rather nice to be married to the 'finest fellow in Asia,' isn't it?"
"Decidedly. But I don't think we needed him to tell us that sort of thing." A touch of the girl's incurable pride flashed in her eyes.
"Well, I was pleased all the same. He said he was never so surprised in his life as when he heard Theo had married; but now he had seen me, he didn't feel surprised any more."
"That was impertinence."
"Not a bit! I thought it was rather nice."
A trifling difference of opinion; but, in point of character, it served to set the two women miles apart.
Evelyn's remark scarcely needed a reply; and Honor fell into a thoughtful silence.
She had allowed herself the rare indulgence of a day "off duty." Instead of accompanying Evelyn to the picnic, she had enjoyed a scrambling excursion with Mrs Conolly – whose friendship was fast becoming a real possession – and her two big babies; exploring hillsides and ravines; hunting up the rarer wild flowers and ferns; and lunching off sandwiches on a granite boulder overhanging infinity. This was her idea of enjoying life in the Himalayas; but the June sun proved a little exhausting; and she was aware of an unusual weariness as she lay back in her canvas chair in the verandah of "The Deodars," – a woodland cottage, owing its pretentious name to the magnificent cedars that stood sentinel on either side of it.
Her eyes turned for comfort and refreshment to the stainless wonder of the snows, that were already beginning to don their evening jewels – coral and amethyst, opal and pearl. The railed verandah, and its sweeping sprays of honeysuckle, were delicately etched upon a