s of his
left hand. She also realised, with a faint prick of anxiety, that he had
simply not heard her remark. Was it possible--could Roy be at the back
of Aruna's waverings? Would his coming mean fresh complications? Too
distracting to be responsible for anything of that kind....

Without a word, he had risen--and went quickly forward to meet her. Thea
saw how, on his approach, all her studied composure fell away; and both,
when they joined her, looked so happy, yet so plainly discomposed, that
Thea felt ridiculously at a loss for just the right word with which to
effect a casual retreat. Responsibility for Sir Lakshman's
grand-daughter was no light matter: at least she had done well in
warning Roy. These emerging Indian girls...!

It was a positive relief to see the prosaic figure of Floss Eden, in
brief tennis skirts and shady hat, hurrying across the lawn, with her
boyish stride; racquet swinging, her round face flushed with exercise.

"I say, Aunt Thea--you're wanted _jut put_,"[6] she announced briskly.
"Verney's in one of his moods--and Mr Neill will soon be in one of his
tempers, if he isn't forcibly removed. Instead of helping with the
balls, he's been parading up and down the verandah; two tin pails, tied
on to him with string, clattering behind--making a beast of a row.
Shouting wasn't any earthly. So I rushed in and grabbed him.
'Verney--drop it! What _are_ you doing?' I said sternly; and he looked
up at me like a sainted cherub. 'Flop, don't hinder me. I'm walkin' froo
the valley of the shadow, an' goodness an' mercy are following me _all_
the days of my life.' That's the fruits of teaching the Bible to
innocents!"

Thea's laugh ended in a sigh. "I warned Miss Mills. But the creature
_is_ getting out of hand. I suppose it means he ought to go home. Mr
Neill," she explained to Roy, "is Vinx's shorthand secretary: volcanic,
but indispensable to the Great Work! So I must fly off and obliterate my
superfluous son."

Her eyes tried to impart the warning he had not heard. Useless. His
attention was centred on Aruna.

"Wonderful--isn't she?" the girl murmured, looking after her. Then
swiftly, half-shyly, she glanced up at him. "Still more wonderful that,
at last, you have come, that I am here too--only through her. She told
you?"

"Yes. A little. I want to hear more."

"Presently. I would rather push away sad things--now you are here. If
there was only Dyan too--like Oxford days. And--oh, Roy, I was bad