"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.