"Oh, someone is sure to come," responded Merryon. "They'll be getting
bored directly, and come along here for coffee."

"There's someone there now," said Puck, cocking her head. "I think I
shall run along to bed and leave you to do the entertaining. Shall I?"

She looked at him with a mischievous smile, very bright-eyed and alert.

"It would be a quick method of getting rid of them," remarked Merryon.

She jumped up. "Very well, then. I'll go, shall I? Shall I, darling?"

He reached out a hand and grasped her wrist. "No," he said,
deliberately, smiling up at her. "You'll stay and do your duty--unless
you're tired," he added. "Are you?"

She stooped to bestow a swift caress upon his forehead. "My own
Billikins!" she murmured. "You're the kindest husband that ever was. Of
course, I'm going to stay."

She could scarcely have effected her escape had she so desired, for
already a hand was on the door. She turned towards it with the roguish
smile still upon her lips.

Merryon was looking at her at the moment. She interested him far more
than the visitor, whom he guessed to be one of the subalterns. And so
looking, he saw the smile freeze upon her face to a mask-like
immobility. And very suddenly he remembered a man whom he had once seen
killed on a battlefield--killed instantaneously--while laughing at some