ou mind? Tell me about things
that have happened. I have lived all my life in a little English
hamlet, and it's so good to hear. I could listen for hours."

He gave her a bright, pleased look, and without question or protest went
on talking easily and pleasantly about Indian customs, peculiarities,
and rites. He had lived in the great cities and in the wilds; had
worked and played, hunted elephants and climbed Himalayan peaks; had
come through hair-breadth dangers, had drunk Bass's beer on a steaming
plain, and, as he himself expressed it, "come out smiling every time."

"I'm as strong as a horse," he added. "A fellow has no right to grumble
when he doesn't know the meaning of pain."

"I should not think you ever grumbled," replied Vanna, smiling. The
next moment she started as the chime of a distant clock struck on her
ear. "What time was that? The half-hour, wasn't it--half-past one?
Have we been here nearly an hour? It seems impossible. It is a great
compliment to your powers of conversation, Mr Gloucester, for before we
met I was feeling terribly tired and bored; but I am afraid I must run
away now. I arranged to leave at one o'clock, and I must be already in
disgrace."

"I'm awfully grateful to you for having listened to me so kindly. I
hope we shall meet again, and continue the conversation. I am staying
with these people for a few weeks. They are old family friends. It's
the nearest approach to a home I have left."

"Thank you. I hope we may meet. I am only a guest in town like
yourself, but I am making a longish stay." Vanna led the way through
the conservatory, walking with somewhat rapid footsteps, her eyes
looking forward through the door leading into the ballroom. She had
reached the centre of the floor when she was arrested by the sound of a
laugh, and a light, flute-like voice breaking across the crash and
clatter of the band.

"Well!" cried the voice. "Have you come at last? I am waiting for you.
How long must I wait?"

Vanna wheeled round. Beneath the shade of a great palm tree, whose
leaves swept the glass roof, stood Jean in her rose draperies, a wreath
of roses crowning her dark head.

"I am waiting!" she said once more, and her eyes, passing by Vanna,
rested on Robert Gloucester's face. Vanna looking at him, saw his teeth
clench, and his cheeks pale beneath their tan.

CHAPTER FOUR.

RIVAL INTERESTS.

That night Vanna lay awake long after lying down, living ov