No words passed between them except a mutually formal "Good-night." But Paul succeeded in conveying the impression that he regarded himself as Desmond's representative; and in making Kresney feel more acutely uncomfortable than he had felt for many a long day. If he had done no actual harm, the fault did not lie with him; and his conscience sprang painfully to life under the lash of Wyndham's contemptuous silence.
In the drawing-room, conversation fared little better.
"Why on earth was Major Wyndham so dignified and disagreeable?" Evelyn queried in a tone of frank annoyance. "It isn't his affair."
"You seem to forget that he is Theo's oldest friend."
Restrained anger quivered in the girl's low voice.
"He has news for you—from the Samana," she added. "There has been sharp fighting. Theo's squadron has done a very dashing bit of work;—Major Wyndham will tell you about it, if you care to hear. Now you had better lie quiet till you dress for dinner." And without waiting for an answer she left the room.
Next morning, while she sat at work, wondering how she could broach the forbidden subject, Evelyn herself came and stood before her with a purposeful air of decision.
"Honor," she said, "I don't want anybody to say anything to—Theo about my accident. Do you see? It is my business to tell him, and not any one else's. Will you let Mrs Olliver know that, please? I don't care to speak to her about it myself."