He was acting as best man at the morrow’s ceremony, the function having been almost thrust upon him by Dacre who, oddly enough, shared something of Tommy’s veneration for his very reticent brother-officer.  There was scant friendship between them.  Each had been accustomed to go his own way wholly independent of the other.  They were no more than casual acquaintances, and they were content to remain such.  But undoubtedly Dacre entertained a certain respect for Monck and observed a wariness of behaviour in his presence that he never troubled to assume for any other man.  He was careful in his dealings with him, being at all times not wholly certain of his ground.

Other men felt the same uncertainty in connection with Monck.  None—­save Tommy—­was sure what manner of man he was.  Tommy alone took him for granted with whole-hearted admiration, and at his earnest wish it had been arranged between them that Monck should take up his abode with him when the forthcoming marriage had deprived each of a companion.  Tommy was delighted with the idea, and he had a gratifying suspicion that Monck himself was inclined to be pleased with it also.

The Green Bungalow had become considerably more homelike since Stella’s arrival, and Tommy meant to keep it so.  He was sure that Monck and he would have the same tastes.

And so on that eve of his sister’s wedding, the thought of their coming companionship was the sole redeeming feature of the whole affair, and he turned in his impulsive fashion to say so just as they reached the verandah steps.

But the words did not leave his lips, for the red glow flung from the lamp had found Monck’s upturned face, and something—­something about it—­checked all speech for the moment.  He was looking straight up at the lighted window and the face of a beautiful woman who gazed forth into the night.  And his eyes were no longer cold and unresponsive, but burning, ardent, intensely alive.  Tommy forgot what he was going to say and only stared.

The moment passed; it was scarcely so much as a moment.  And Monck moved on in his calm, unfaltering way.

“Your sister is ready and waiting,” he said.

They ascended the steps together, and the girl who sat by the open window rose with a stately movement and stepped forward to meet them.

“Hullo, Stella!” was Tommy’s greeting.  “Hope I’m not awfully late.  They wasted such a confounded time over toasts at mess to-night.  Yours was one of ’em, and I had to reply.  I hadn’t a notion what to say.  Captain Monck thinks I made an awful hash of it though he is too considerate to say so.”

“On the contrary I said ‘Hear, hear!’ to every stutter,” said Monck, bowing slightly as he took the hand she offered.

She was wearing a black lace dress with a glittering spangled scarf of Indian gauze floating about her.  Her neck and shoulders gleamed in the soft red glow.  She was superb that night.