There came a burning day at last, however, when she realized that the evening drive was almost beyond her powers.  Tommy was on duty at the barracks.  Everard had, she believed, gone down to Khanmulla to see Barnes of the Police.  She decided in the absence of both to indulge in a rest, and sent Peter to countermand the carriage.

Then a great heaviness came upon her, and she yielded herself to it, lying inert upon the couch in the drawing-room dully listening to the creak of the punkah that stirred without cooling the late afternoon air.

Some time must have passed thus and she must have drifted into a species of vague dreaming that was not wholly sleep when suddenly there came a sound at the darkened window; the blind was lifted and Monck stood in the opening.

She sprang up with a startled sense of being caught off her guard, but the next moment a great dizziness came upon her and she reeled back, groping for support.

He dropped the blind and caught her.  “Why, Stella!” he said.

She clung to him desperately.  “I am all right—­I am all right!  Hold me a minute!  I—­I tripped against the matting.”  Gaspingly she uttered the words, hanging upon him, for she knew she could not stand alone.

He put her gently down upon the sofa.  “Take it quietly, dear!” he said.

She leaned back upon the cushions with closed eyes, for her brain was swimming.  “I am all right,” she reiterated.  “You startled me a little.  I—­didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“I met Barnes just after I started,” he made answer.  “He is coming to dine presently.”

Her heart sank.  “Is he?” she said faintly.

“No.”  Monck’s tone suddenly held an odd note that was half-grim and half-protective.  “On second thoughts, he can go to the Mess with Tommy.  I don’t think I want him any more than you do.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him.  “Everard, of course he must dine here if you have asked him!  Tell Peter!”

Her vision was still slightly blurred, but she saw that the set of his jaw was stubborn.  He stooped after a moment and kissed her forehead.  “You lie still!” he said.  “And mind—­you are not to dress for dinner.”

He turned with that and left her.

She was not sorry to be alone, for her head was throbbing almost unbearably, but she would have given much to know what was in his mind.

She lay there passively till presently she heard Tommy dash in to dress for mess, and shortly after there came the sound of men’s voices in the compound, and she knew that Monck and Barnes were walking to and fro together.

She got up then, summoning her energies, and stole to her own room.  Monck had commanded her not to change her dress, but the haggardness of her face shocked her into taking refuge in the remedy which she secretly despised.  She did it furtively, hoping that in the darkened drawing-room he had not noted the ghastly pallor which she thus sought to conceal.