"I will tell her. To-morrow evening. Does Frank know too?"
"Yes; she was in when I came. It upset her very much. Not a soul in the regiment—officers or men—will have a minute's peace of mind till the result of this wound is known for certain. In all the misery of it, one is proud to realise that."
Something of his own grief showed in his voice for the first time, and Honor's heart contracted with too keen a sympathy.
"Ah, Paul! you speak of it so calmly—as if you were just one with the rest. But I, at least, can guess what the pain and suspense must be for you."
His face softened at the tender inflection of her voice.
"No," he said, "even you cannot guess that. Now go back to his wife. If I can be of any use at all send for me. I shall not come round otherwise till I bring him here to-morrow evening. I mean to ride out with a small escort and meet them on the way."
Honor found Evelyn rigid and tearless among her cushions. The strange mingling of coldness and terror in her eyes startled the girl. She hurried to the sofa and knelt down at her side.
"Don't look like that, Evelyn," she said. "It's horrible! Only think, Theo will be here to-morrow evening. Paul told me so just now."
"To-morrow—to-morrow? He will be here, in this house—to-morrow?" She repeated the word with stunned iteration, and there was no feeling in her tone, only an uncanny fear, that chilled the blood in Honor's veins.