Evelyn's passing gentleness evaporated on the instant.
"They're not!" she protested wrathfully. "And it's horrid of you to say such things! They like me, I don't see why I shouldn't be nice to them. Besides, this is my picnic—I planned it—and if I'm the hostess I can ask who I please." The touch of young importance that sounded through the petulance of her tone dispelled the last shadow of Desmond's annoyance and set him smiling.
"Why, of course, Ladybird—within reasonable limits. But after all, the hospitality offered is mine; and what's more, the hostess is mine into the bargain!"
He laid his hand lightly against the rose-flush of her cheek, but she jerked it impatiently aside.
"Oh, well, if you will take it that way," he said, in a tone of resigned weariness, and turning abruptly on his heel came across to Honor, whose cheeks were almost as hot as Evelyn's own.
"I'm glad Alla Dad Khan made himself interesting this afternoon," he remarked conversationally. "Ressaldar Rajinder Singh, who commands my Sikh troop, is very anxious to come and pay his respects some day soon. You see, as your father's daughter and the Major's sister you are a rather special person for us all. But I must be off now. The fellows will be waiting. I'll arrange about the Sirdar to-morrow."
On the threshold he paused and looked towards his wife, who still sat with her back to the room, her head supported on her hand.
"Good-bye, Ladybird," he said, and there was marked kindliness in his tone.
She acknowledged the words with a scarcely perceptible movement, and a few minutes later the rattle of hoofs on the road came sharply to their ears.