"My dear Mrs. Gissing, have a glass of wine; you must indeed," fussed the Brigadier. But the little lady set the suggestion aside.
"Douglas!" she repeated. "I wonder where he comes from? Does anyone know a Douglas?"
"James Sholto Douglas," corrected the host. "It's a good name."
"And I knew a good fellow of that name once; but he went under," said an older man.
"About what?" Alice Gissing's eyes challenged the speaker, who stood close to her.
"About a woman, my dear lady."
"Poor dear! Erlton, you must fetch him over to see me to-morrow morning." She said it with infinite verve, and her hearers laughed.
"Him!" retorted someone. "How do you know it's the same man?"
She nodded her head gayly. "I've a fancy it is. And I am bound to be nice to him anyhow."
She had not the chance, however. Major Erlton, riding over before breakfast to catch him, found nothing but the square-shaped furrow surrounding a dry vacant spot which shows where a tent has been.