retricious
daring; and it occurred to Madeline, looking at her, that she was after
all a fairly competent second-class adventuress. She would not refuse
the cue. It would make so little difference.

'On the contrary, I am tremendously indebted to Colonel Innes. He has
been so very kind about ponies and jhampanies and things. Simla is
full of pitfalls for a stranger, don't you think?' And Miss Anderson,
unclosing her fan, turned her reposeful head a little in the direction
of three married schoolgirls voluble on her left.

'Not when you get to know the language. You must learn the language;
it's indispensable. But of course it depends on how long you mean to
stay.'

'I think I will learn the language,' said Madeline.

'But General Worsley told me you were leaving Simla in a fortnight.'

'Oh no. My plans are very indefinite; but I shall stay much longer than
that.'

'It is Miss Anderson, isn't it?--Miss Madeline Anderson, of New
York--no, Brooklyn?'

Madeline looked at her. 'Did not the General say so?' she asked.

'Yes, he did. But one looks to make quite sure.'

'I can understand that.'

Mrs. Innes leaned forward with one elbow on her knee.

It was not a graceful attitude, but it gave the casual air to the
conversation which was desirable.

'What are you going to do?' she said.

'My plans are as indefinite as possible, really,' Madeline returned.
'I may spend the cold weather in Calcutta, or go into camp with the
Dovedells--I should like that.'

'Mrs. Innes,' cried the nearest schoolgirl, 'we are coming tomorrow to
see all the lovely things in your boxes, may we?'

'Do, duckies. But mind, no copying of them by durzies in the veranda.
They're all Paris things--Coulter's--and you know he doesn't copy well,
does he? Oh, dear! here are the men--they always come too soon, don't
they? So glad to have had even a little chat, Miss Anderson. I'll come
and see you tomorrow. You know newcomers in India always make the first
calls. I shall find you at home, sha'n't I?'

'By all means,' Madeline said.

Mrs. Innes crossed the room, crying out that the heat was perfectly
absurd for Simla, it must be cooler outside; and as Captain Valentine
Drake followed her into the semi-darkness of the veranda, the three
married schoolgirls looked at each other and smiled.

'Don't be naughty,' said Captain Gordon, leaning over the sofa from
behind. 'They're very dear friends, and they've been separated for two
years.'

Made