he had mastered his drill, he lost his heart to Miss Bethesda Hay, a penniless girl with "good connections" in high places; how those connections procured for him a civil appointment in the lately annexed province of the Punjab; how a few short weeks after his marriage the heat of his passion evaporated, and Bethel -as he called his wife-ceased to appear to him the angel he had thought her, but very like other women, only possessed of a better head and a rather strong will of her own. He thought, too, how his wife's ambition had induced him several years back to accept what friends had called "the post of honour and danger" he then occupied, and how it seemed turning out to be neither the one nor the other, but a place of banishment and discomfort.

Whilst deep in these reveries he caught sight of what appeared a female form, muffled in white drapery, moving towards him. Stepping aside, and concealing himself behind a bush, he watched the approaching apparition. Nearer and nearer it came; but the face was hidden by its covering, and, owing to the increasing darkness, he could only see that in contour the figure was that of a graceful young woman. He was puzzled. Ghosts he did not believe in, yet if not a ghost who could it be? Softly he stepped back into the walk, and softly he followed the apparition, out of the gardens and round by a little path which skirted the compound of his assistant's bungalow. Suddenly what he followed disappeared, but it did so exactly

opposite a back entrance into Mr David Leslie's compound.

Now this Leslie was Major Honeyman's assistant— a competition-wallah of five or six years' standing. He was a quiet, reserved, young fellow, a rapid yet thorough worker. Still his Deputy Commissioner was not quite satisfied with him. Although generally modest and unassuming in manner, Leslie frequently exhibited a lack of subordination and deference to his superiors. So thought Major Honeyman; and no doubt he was right. Young competition-wallahs have not much sense of discipline at the best, and when brought into contact with what are termed "military civilians," that deficiency in their mental training sometimes becomes painfully conspicuous. As to Leslie's private character, Major Honeyman regarded him loosely in his own mind as somewhat of a prig and goody-goody style of youth; but this feeling may partly have arisen from a petty jealousy of the other's abilities, and a suspicion that Leslie did not appreciate the able and experienced Major Augustus Honeyman as highly as that gentleman's merits demanded.

When, then, he saw the figure disappear where it did, he immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was a woman, certainly young, and probably pretty, belonging to Leslie's establishment. On the instant his assistant, whom, as I have said, he had hitherto thought both mild and unmanly, rose several places in his estimation. The fact is, the older man was

pleased at discovering, as he supposed, that the younger was not so very much better after all than other men. Had any one hinted to Major Honeyman such was the case, he would have denied it; but still so it was. It is not in fallen human nature not to experience some soreness at special goodness in any one, and not to know some satisfaction at whatever detracts from such goodness.

Being now quite dark, Major Honeyman hastened home, mentally ticketing his assistant as a sly young dog, who required to be well looked after; and already enjoying, by anticipation, the poor youth's confusion when he should be skilfully questioned about the mysterious female.

13

CHAPTER II.

A BIG DINNER, AND WHO WERE THERE.

As Honeyman (I think we know him well enough now to drop the Major) approached his house, sundry indications told him that the dinner-hour was near. The kitchen, which was a detached building, and some forty yards from the bungalow itself, was all aglow, and dusky half-naked forms were seen stooping and flitting about its fires. One man was doing turnspit to a roast; another was peeling potatoes; a third flipping cream; whilst the head cook was moving about inside the kitchen-room, poking his noise into various pots, and examining, but not tasting, their contents with a spoon. The bungalow, too, seemed prepared for an entertainment, for the lights of numerous wall and table lamps shone brightly through the chicks (thin blinds). Although Honeyman felt pleased at all these signs of home and comfort, he hurried rather guiltily into his room to dress for dinner, glad when he got there to have been able to slip in without meeting his wife.

The special preparations in the kitchen and elsewhere had reminded him it was Thursday-the day on which he always gave his little weekly dinnerparty and on such days his dear Bethel was apt to show temper if all things did not go smoothly. He had just laid aside his coat and waistcoat, and sat down on a chair to have his boots drawn off by his bearer, when his wife stole into the room from behind him, and laying a long cold hand on his shoulder exclaimed, "You selfish man, you are late as usual!"

"Good God! how you startled me!" said the selfish man, jumping up; "you should have knocked. might have been▬▬

I

"Knock,-nonsense," replied the lady, interrupting him, and beginning to whimper; "a reproof is your only welcome to me, after I have been slaving all day to make things nice for your guests: for you are always very careful not to let me ask those I like."

Hereupon Mrs Honeyman sat down, and would have become hysterical had she not recollected in time that she was dressed for the evening, and so thought better of it. She now wiped her eyes, and prepared to resume the attack. But her husband, who hated scenes, interposed, and said deprecatingly, "Why, Bethel, my dear, I thought you asked our new Padre especially for yourself."

"No, indeed," rejoined she, somewhat mollified by her husband's deferential manner; "I asked the Padre,