"Miss Cinnamond—Honour—my dearest one—what have I done? I am an unlucky fellow! Have I offended you?"
"You said you were certain," explained Honour, with impatient deliberateness. "What were you certain of?"
"Why, that you could not have refused Charteris—splendid fellow that he is, and with all his honours and successes—unless there was a little sneaking kindness in your heart for some one else, and I hoped it might be for a poor wretched failure who has nothing to lay at your feet beyond his love and fidelity."
Honour surrendered her hand again. "You are so absurd!" she said, with a catch in her voice. "Of course, if pity is all you want——"
"Pity is not to be despised. It made a good beginning——"
"It did not!" cried Honour sharply. "How blind you are! And I thought you understood! When you came to the Residency in the rains, were you to be pitied then?"
"I thought so. You would hardly look at me."
"Oh, stupid! how could I?"
"You had begun to care then? But, dearest, how could I guess? You talked about nothing but Charteris."
"It was the only way I could get you to talk about yourself. You had to tell me little bits about your own doings when you were describing all he had done."