-"

"Yes, _I_ know ... you're just terror-struck of all those women. But if
you will do these things, you must stand up to the consequences--like a
man."

He jerked up his head. "No fear. We'll say to-morrow, or Thursday."

"I'll be merciful, and say Thursday. It's to be announced this
afternoon. Have you mentioned it--to any one?"

"Only to Lance."

A small sound between her teeth made him turn quickly.

"Anything hurt you?"

"You've quick ears! Only a pin-prick." She explored her blouse for the
offending pin. "Do you tell each other everything--you two?"

"Pretty well--as men go."

"You're a wonderful pair."

She sighed and was silent a moment. Then, "Shall it be a ride on
Thursday?" she asked, giving his arm a small squeeze.

"Rather. There are Brigade Sports; but I could cry off. We'll take our
tea out to Shadera, have a peaceful time there, and finish up at the
Hall."

So it was arranged, and so it befell, though not exactly according to
design.

* * * * *

On Thursday they rode leisurely out through the heat and dusty haze,
away from bungalows and the watered Mall, through a village alive with
shrill women, naked babies, and officious pariahs, who kept Terry
furiously occupied: on past the city, over the bridge of boats that
spans the Ravi, till they came to the green secluded garden where the
Emperor Jehangir sleeps, heedless of infidels who, generation after
generation, have picnicked and made love in the sacred precincts of his
tomb.

Arrived at the gardens, they tethered the horses, drank thermos tea and
ate sugared cakes, sitting on the wide wall that looked across the river
and the plain to the dim huddled city beyond. And Roy talked of
Bramleigh Beeches in April, till he felt home-sick for primroses and the
cuckoo and the smell of mown grass; while, before his actual eyes, the
terrible sun of India hung suspended in the haze, like a platter of
molten brass, till the turning earth, settling to sleep, shouldered it
almost out of sight.

That brought them back to realities.

"We must scoot," said Roy. "It'll be dark, and there's only a slip of a
moon."

"It's been delicious!" she sighed; and they kissed mutually--a lingering
kiss.

Then they were off, racing the swift-footed dusk....

Skirting the city, they noticed scurrying groups of figures, shouting to
each other as they ran; and the next instant, Roy's ear caught the
ominous hum of Sunday morning