In the room with the crimson-shaded lamp Stella Denvers sat waiting. The
red glow compassed her warmly, striking wonderful copper gleams in the
burnished coils of her hair. Her face was bent over the long white
gloves that she was pulling over her wrists, a pale face that yet was
extraordinarily vivid, with features that were delicate and proud, and
lips that had the exquisite softness and purity of a flower.

She raised her eyes from her task at sound of the steps below the
window, and their starry brightness under her straight black brows gave
her an infinite allurement. Certainly a beautiful woman, as Monck had
said, and possessing the brilliance and the wonder of youth to an almost
dazzling degree! Perhaps it was not altogether surprising that the
ladies of the regiment had not been too enthusiastic in their welcome of
this sister of Tommy's who had come so suddenly into their midst,
defying convention. Her advent had been utterly unexpected--a total
surprise even to Tommy, who, returning one day from the polo-ground,
had found her awaiting him in the bachelor quarters which he had shared
with three other subalterns. And her arrival had set the whole station
buzzing.

Led by the Colonel's wife, Lady Harriet Mansfield, the women of the
regiment had--with the single exception of Mrs. Ralston whose opinion
was of no account--risen and condemned the splendid stranger who had
come amongst them with such supreme audacity and eclipsed the fairest of
them. Stella's own simple explanation that she had, upon attaining her
majority and fifty pounds a year, decided to quit the home of some
distant relatives who did not want her and join Tommy who was the only
near relation she had, had satisfied no one. She was an interloper, and
as such they united to treat her. As Lady Harriet said, no nice girl