eyes.

Suddenly Hester lost her footing on the slippery stone and found herself ankle deep in water, fortunately not overhead, for she had only slipped one step, the next flat green stone extending a good way out into the water. Her position, however, looked sufficiently alarming to her companion, who uttered a little cry and hastened to extend both her hands to help her.

The signal of distress happened to be heard by two strollers in the walk alongside, divided only from the tank-path by a thin jungly brake, through which the gleam of the water was visible. There was an instant crashing among the bushes, and in a moment Mark Cheveril appeared through the creepers just as Hester emerged from the water with a smiling face, though with dripping skirts, holding her trophy in her hand.

"Too late, Mr. Cheveril, in spite of your sudden display of knight-errantry!" Miss Glanton's metallic voice rang out from the cross walk where she appeared, looking by no means amiably on Hester and her companion. "You are a rash young person, Mrs. Rayner," she said, in a bantering tone. "The idea of venturing down those filthy, slithery steps! Why, some deadly snake might have been coiled on one of them! And your pretty frock entirely ruined! Mrs. Fellowes, what have you been about to let a new-comer run such risks?" she said pertly, glancing at the older lady; whereupon Hester forgot her wet shoes and stockings and ruined frock and hastened to defend her friend.

"Oh, indeed, it wasn't Mrs. Fellowes' fault, I even rejected the parasol she held out—but I've secured my trophy! This, Mrs. Fellowes, is Mr. Cheveril I was telling you about," she said, introducing her friend.

The older lady held out her hand cordially; and when Mark looked into the refined, kindly face he felt sure that the daughter of the Pinkthorpe Rectory would have at least one wholly congenial friend.

Miss Glanton did not seem to approve of the new distribution of her guests, and said pointedly:

"Now, Mr. Cheveril, I must introduce you to my mother's fern-house. We were just on our way there when we heard your despairing cry, Mrs. Rayner."

"Oh, come, give me at least the credit of the 'despairing cry,' as you call it," said Mrs. Fellowes. "I confess my nerves got the better of me. Mrs. Rayner stood the test better than I did. But oh, my dear, you are wet, we must see to those soaking shoes at once, they are dangerous!"

"Of course they are, Mrs. Rayner," said Miss Glanton decisively. "Here comes your husband, who will no doubt carry you off at once."

Hester felt rather like a naughty child when her husband surveyed her plight, with a more annoyed than sympathetic glance, and listened silently to the account of her misfortune.

"Of course you must go home at once, Hester, or you'll have a sharp attack of fever."

"Oh, don't be a prophet of evil, Mr. Rayner," broke in Mrs. Fellowes. "But it will be wise to go—or, we might retire. I wonder if Mrs. Glanton has one of those delightful charcoal arrangements for drying clothes?" she asked, turning to the daughter of the house.

"The mater does not possess anything so useful, I fear," replied Clarice, shaking her head.

"I shall go home! A just punishment for my behaviour," said Hester quickly, thinking there would be compensations, seeing that she would carry off her husband and Mark Cheveril. Her disappointment was therefore considerable when she perceived that she was to be bundled off alone.

"All right, Hester," said her husband. "I'll call your carriage; and look here, when you reach home, you can tell the horse-keeper to bring round my mail-phaeton for us.... You are dining with us, I think, Cheveril? I shall drive you home."

"Thanks," responded Mark, "but shall we not accompany Mrs. Rayner? Will that not be simplest?"—"and pleasantest," he was about to add, when he recollected his semi-hostess was by his side.

"Oh, but you cannot escape so, Mr. Cheveril," she expostulated. "Why, you haven't even paid your respects to my mother yet!"

"You are right. You cannot omit that pleasure, Cheveril," said Mr. Rayner, in a ceremonious tone. "Besides, I was in search of you. The Brigadier wants to see you; it seems you have eluded him too."

Again the arrangement of the guests did not please Miss Glanton, though she felt willing to speed the parting guest. The two gentlemen disappeared and she had to be contented to bring up the rear with the ladies.

The drive between the English habitations in Madras is often long in that city of "magnificent distances." The sudden tropical dusk had fallen on the landscape. Her Indian home looked dreary to Hester when she reached it. She felt, moreover, depressed by the events of the afternoon, and flung herself into a wicker chair in the verandah. Mrs. Glanton's exposition of her "neutral party" had jarred upon her. Major Ryde's talk was far from inspiring, and this stupid escapade, which had obliged her to be despatched home like a punished child, and over which Alfred had looked undeniably annoyed, was vexing. And as for Mark Cheveril, he might as well have still been on the Bokhara for all she had seen of him!

A suspicion of homesickness greater than she had yet felt was stealing over her. The only bright spot seemed Mrs. Fellowes' warm friendship; and she was now to have a fresh proof of it.

The maty boy came dragging a big cage-like coop of bamboo into the verandah. "Dosani Fellowes done send her jhapra for to hook up Missus," was Ramaswamy's rendering of her message.

"What?" asked Hester, laughing. The ayah came to the rescue, having already made acquaintance with the useful article then coming into vogue in the fireless bedrooms of Madras.

"Dat boy one humbug! I know all 'bout bamboo. Big chattee charcoal done put under, it make werry warm Missus clothes."

"That reminds me, ayah, I've got wet shoes and stockings, and skirts too," said Hester rising, having in her depressed mood forgotten her plight and its possible consequences.

"Oh, m'am, that's awfulee shockin'," cried the ayah, as she followed her mistress up-stairs and nimbly divested her of her wet garments; and, all excitement, gave directions for the placing of the jhapra above the charcoal fire.

Hester then dressed for dinner and hastened to send a note of thanks to Mrs. Fellowes for this new proof of her thoughtful kindliness; its promptitude revealing that her friend must have left Mrs. Glanton's party at the same time as herself in order to hasten the dispatch of the jhapra.

"We shall make our salaams if you're inclined to go, Cheveril," Mr. Rayner was saying now, having discovered that his smart mail-phaeton was in readiness to carry him home. Mark responded with alacrity, having been secretly wondering why their departure had not been simultaneous with Hester's.

Had he been nearer a banyan tree under which an extra buffet had been placed for refreshments stronger than tea and iced coffee, he would have heard, at all events, the reason assigned by a group of men evidently more perceptive than friendly.

"Heartless prig that Rayner," said one. "Miss Glanton has just been telling me he let his wife drive home alone in her wet clothes. She had slipped on the steps of the tank trying to catch a water lily and got a ducking."

"And do you know the reason he waited? Just that he might swagger home in that new mail-phaeton of his! I've been taking the measure of that fellow for some time. He's got all the ambition of a thorough upstart. Where he gets all his rupees from every month passes me to guess. They aren't earned in the High Court, I'll be bound, for he's only a struggling barrister like myself!"

"And his wife a rector's daughter—told me so herself this afternoon when Miss Glanton bestowed her on me that she might sound the possibilities of that new-comer," chimed in Major Ryde.

"You were in luck, Ryde, having Mrs. Rayner for company. She looks charming, much too good for that