"Gabriel, this is my friend Sir Oliver Rathbone." She looked at Rathbone, ignoring Athol. "Oliver, I should like to introduce you to Lieutenant Gabriel Sheldon. He was one of the four survivors of the siege of Cawnpore and was subsequently wounded while still serving in the Indian army. He has only been home a very short time."

"How do you do, Lieutenant Sheldon," Rathbone said gravely. "It is very good of you to allow me to call upon Miss Latterly in your home and without the slightest warning. I would not have taken such a liberty were it not a matter of urgency to me, and to my present client, who may face ruin if I cannot defend him successfully."

Gabriel was still overcoming his self-consciousness and sense of vulnerability. This was the first time since his return that he had been faced with a stranger.

"You are welcome," he said a little hoarsely, then coughed and cleared his throat. "It sounds a most serious matter." It was not a question. He would not have been so inquisitive.

"I am a barrister," Rathbone replied, determined to keep a normal conversation going. "And in this have a present case of which I should like a woman's view. I admit I am utterly confused."

Gabriel was interested. His eyes were intelligent and direct and Rathbone found himself meeting them very easily, without having to make a deliberate effort to avoid staring at the appalling scar and the lips pulled awry by it.

"Is it a capital case?" Gabriel asked, then instantly apologized. "I'm sorry; I have no business to intrude. Forgive me."

"Not at all," Rathbone replied quite spontaneously. "It is serious only in the damages if my client loses, but the offense is relatively slight. It is a suit for breach of promise."

"Oh!" Gabriel looked surprised and Rathbone felt as if he had disappointed him by dealing with anything so trivial. In comparison with what Gabriel had experienced, which Rathbone had read about only in newspapers, no doubt robbed of much of its horror and detail, a broken romance seemed an insult even to mention. It was certainly painful, but a common affliction of mankind. Surely everyone suffered such disappointment, in some degree or another, if they were capable of love at all?

He looked at Hester to see what she might feel. Would she consider it absurd too?

"Breach of promise?" she said slowly, staring back at him.

Suddenly he was aware of how much of her he did not know. Why had she gone to the Crimea in the beginning? Had someone let her down, just as Melville had Zillah Lambert?

Had she felt that humiliation, the laughter of friends, the sense of utter rejection, the whole of her certain and happy world shattered at a blow?

Now, instead of with Melville, his whole sympathy was with Zillah. He saw Hester in her place, and burned with anger for her and with shame for his own clumsiness.