Pinkthorpe Rectory set amid its green fields and hedges where the sun smiled but never scorched as in this eastern land.

Mark Cheveril was able to give her the latest news, for he had paid a brief farewell visit to it before he sailed.

"I'm thinking of what a delightful picture I shall be able to make of you basking in the sunshine as I saw you when I came in. It will go into my letter which I promised to write to your mother by the first mail," said Mark, as he rose to go. "Then we are to meet at this said Mrs. Glanton's?"

"'This said Mrs. Glanton's,' forsooth!" laughed Hester, raising her eyebrows. "I assure you she is a very formidable leader of society here. Alfred has the greatest admiration for her, thinks her a perfect model for new-comers like me. But I fear I shall never attain to her splendid manners," she added, with a little sigh.

Mark Cheveril, as his eye rested on the fair young wife, involuntarily hoped that she would not model herself on any Mrs. Glanton, however much her husband might wish it, but would remain the bright girlish presence that had graced her happy English home.

They were standing in the verandah now. The hired bandy which had been waiting under a tree was called, and the visitor drove off to keep his appointment at the Club.

The little cloud of the morning had been chased away from Hester's heart by the spell of the revived comradeship. To be sure, no managing hostess had intervened between these two to foster any warmer feelings than good fellowship. But Hester's loyalty was well developed, and her husband's sneering words of the morning still haunted her. Should she have ventured to sound the warning note, struck no doubt from her husband's larger experience, and would it have been wiser to do so even before he began his life in the East? She had friendship enough to do so. Had they not ridden together along leafy Worcestershire lanes and talked of many things? But there was a glance in Mark Cheveril's serene hazel eye, an innate courtesy about his whole deportment which made her divine that he would receive any such warning with gentle disdain. In fact, she decided, she must warn Alfred to beware of broaching the subject.

Mr. Rayner only returned from the High Court in time to join his wife on their drive to the garden party. She told him of Mark Cheveril's arrival, and of his already having found his way to Clive's Road; of the prospect of their meeting him now and of his returning with them; but she observed that her husband listened absently to the news. His preoccupation regarding the coming entertainment caused her some surprise. Social functions of the kind in the home county had never created the desire to make an impression which seemed to lurk under Alfred's excitement over his handsome new landau and the well-matched pair of Australian horses with their couple of smart syces.

The queue of carriages was already far stretching on the leafy road which skirted the Glanton's compound when Mr. and Mrs. Rayner's landau took its place there; but at last it came to their turn to alight and follow the stream of guests along the broad crimson strip to the spot where the hostess had elected to receive them.

Hester's eye was charmed by the picture suddenly unfolded to her on the wide flat lawn of the spreading compound, bordered by its glades of dense shrubberies intersected by winding walks. The mellow light of the late afternoon sun tinged all the landscape, turning to gold the graceful over-hanging palms, revealing glimpses of the green waters of the tank which sparkled like jets of emerald, and etherealising the Indian garden for the first time to the eyes of all new-comers.

The long hot months were over, and, freshened by the recent rains, Madras was again considered suitable for the highest officials. The civil and military element was well represented. Red coats mingled picturesquely with the smart feminine toilettes just emerged from the latest box from home. The groups on the lawn vied with the bright schemes of colour in the flower beds which the gardeners had been labouring over for days with much repotting and many libations from earthenware chatties.

Mr. and Mrs. Rayner soon perceived the ample form of their hostess. Their names were announced by a white-robed peon. Mrs. Glanton received the young bride graciously, and seemed gratified by her evident appreciation of the bright scene.

"This promises to be a charming gathering," remarked Alfred Rayner, shaking hands with his hostess.

"Yes, I thought it would prove a nice preface to the gaieties of the season. The Brigadier wanted a succession of dinner-parties first, but you understand, Mr. Rayner, the question of who will meet and mix cordially is always a thorny business, and after all the fatigue of entertaining, one often gets a hornet's nest about one's ears. So disagreeable to have people sulking at one for fancied slights, especially so early in the season."

Hester's face wore a slightly puzzled expression, but her husband answered vivaciously:

"That is so, Mrs. Glanton. In fact, only this morning I was explaining to my wife the Scylla and Charybdis of these social disabilities."

"Ah, I see you are wise, Mr. Rayner," returned the hostess, with a responsive smile. "One cannot learn one's lessons too early, one avoids shoals of quicksands later on. Oh, the tales I could tell! And now you will understand how pleased I am to have gathered Madras together for what I call my neutral party. I felt sure I was striking the right key."

"A very minor key, I should say, mother," said the daughter of the house, strolling up and lowering her parasol, then greeting the guests.

"Ah, my dear Mrs. Rayner," said Mrs. Glanton, "I am so glad that you and dear Clarice are friends. She has all the experience of her first season to share with you, and you, my dear, have your home complexion;" and she lightly tapped Hester's sleeve with her fan as she moved aside to greet new relays of guests.

Clarice Glanton had been reckoned the chief beauty of Madras during the last season. She had undeniably well-cut features and a graceful carriage, but though no older than the young wife, she lacked that indefinable air of youth which made Hester's chief charm. There was certainly no symptom of the "close friendship" between the two, and the girl's thin lips curled with a faint cynical smile as she heard her mother's remark. It had been her intention to pass on, being on the outlook for a guest who had not yet appeared, but now she felt it incumbent upon her to exchange a few words.

"I'm afraid you'll feel dreadfully bored, Mrs. Rayner," she said in her staccato voice. "The seats are full, the sets for Badminton, archery, and croquet made up for the moment. But there will be some movement soon. You are devoted to croquet, I recollect," she added, turning to Mr. Rayner; then her attention was attracted by a tall young man advancing along the crimson strip.

"Ah, this must be the gentleman my father met fresh from the steamer this morning and invited to join our party, charging me to entertain him too," remarked Clarice, her sharp eyes scanning the coming handsome figure with its easy grace.

"Oh, Alfred, here he is,—here is Mark Cheveril," exclaimed Hester eagerly.

"Then you know him, Mrs. Rayner? Cheveril, yes, that is his name. Wherever has my mother disappeared to? I suppose I must act as hostess."

With a more gracious smile than she had previously bestowed on Hester, she went forward to meet the guest. After a brief interchange of polite words, on Miss Glanton's side marked by studied graciousness, Mark turned to greet again his old friend with a bright smile; while, with an air of nonchalance which surprised his wife, Alfred Rayner came forward to introduce himself, reminding Mark that they were old school acquaintances.

"In the dear old Hacket days, of course! How could I have forgotten that it was then your name was familiar to me! I remember your face perfectly. You are very little changed