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Think what your feelings will be if she dies!" "I have thought, sir." The dogged note was in Merryon's voice again. His face was a mask of impenetrability. "If she dies, I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing that I made her happy first." It was his last word on the subject. He departed, leaving the colonel fuming. That evening the latter called upon Mrs. Merryon.
"Meaning you don't want me?" she demanded, unexpectedly. "Not for the hot weather," said Merryon. She sprang suddenly to her feet. "I won't go, Billikins!" she declared, fiercely, "I just won't!" He looked at her, sternly resolute. "You must go," he said, with unwavering decision. "You're tired of me! Is that it?" she demanded. He raised his brows.
You'd slip right back again directly my back was turned. And I should have the pleasure of starting the business all over again. I couldn't face it, my dear. It would be too disheartening." "I see," said Merryon. There was just the suspicion of a smile among the rugged lines of his face. "Yes, I see your point. But I can show you another if you'll listen."
"You are happy?" Merryon asked her once. To which she made ardent answer, "Always happy in your arms, O king." And Merryon was happy also, though, looking back later, it seemed to him that he snatched his happiness on the very edge of the pit, and that even at the time he must have been half-aware of it.
She halted on the words as if uncertain how to proceed. "What is it?" said Merryon. And then, quite suddenly, his mood softened. He leaned slowly forward. "You needn't be afraid of me," he said. "I'm not a heady youngster. I shan't gobble you up." She laughed at that a quick, nervous laugh. "And you won't beat me either? Promise!" He frowned at her. "Beat you!
She kept everyone up to a pitch of frivolity that certainly none would have attained without her, and an odd feeling began to stir in Merryon, a sensation of jealousy such as he had never before experienced. They seemed to forget, all of them, that this flashing, brilliant creature was his. She seemed to have forgotten it also.
Miss Tippet suited the action to the word, and seized Willie's hand, which she squeezed warmly. Matty Merryon, with tears in her eyes, embraced him, and said that she only wished she had the chance of embracing his brother, too.
"My name is Merryon," the man said, curtly. "I am a major in the Indian Army home on leave. Now tell me about yourself!" He delivered the information in the brief, aggressive fashion that seemed to be characteristic of him, and he looked over the head of his young visitor as he did so, almost as if he made the statement against his will.
Oh, hang this rain!" said Harley, bitterly. "But couldn't they take them Forbes, I mean, and Robey to the hospital?" questioned Merryon. "No. To tell you the truth, Robey is pegging out, poor fellow. It's always the best chaps that go first, though. Heaven knows, we may be all gone before this time to-morrow." "Don't talk like a fool!" said Merryon, curtly. And Harley said no more.
Almost angrily the colonel flung the question as his second-in-command came back heavy-footed through the rain. He had been through a nasty period of suspense himself during Merryon's absence. Merryon nodded. His face was very pale and his lips seemed stiff. "She has gone, sir," he managed to say, after a moment. "Gone, has she?" The colonel raised his brows in astonished interrogation. "What!
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