ciety, would have been transcendentally
simple, she told herself. Even a convict has a right--a prospective
right--to his wife, and no honest man should be compelled to retain a
criminal's property. This was an odd reflection, perhaps, to be made by
Madeline Anderson, but the situation as a whole might be described as
curious. And there was no doubt about the coffin.

Chapter 3.VI.

The veranda of which Miss Anderson's little sitting-room claimed its
section hung over the road, and it seemed to her that she heard the
sound of Mrs. Innes's arrival about ten minutes after breakfast.

On the contrary, she had spent two whole hours contemplating, with very
fixed attention, first the domestic circumstances of Colonel Horace
Innes and their possible development, and then, with a pang of
profoundest acknowledgment, the moral qualities which he would bring to
bear upon them. She was further from knowing what course she personally
intended to pursue than ever, when she heard the wheels roll up
underneath; and she had worked herself into a state of sufficient
detachment from the whole problem to reflect upon the absurdity of a
bigamist rattling forth to discuss her probable ruin in the fanciful
gaiety of a rickshaw. The circumstances had its value though; it
lightened all responsibility for the lady concerned. As Madeline
heard her jump out and give pronounced orders for the securing of an
accompanying dachshund, it did not seem to matter so particularly what
became of Violet Prendergast.

Mrs. Innes's footsteps came briskly along the veranda. Madeline noted
that there was no lagging. 'Number seven,' she said aloud; as she passed
other doors, 'Number eight--number nine! Ah! there you are.' The
door was open. 'I wouldn't let them bring up my card for fear of some
mistake. How do you do? Now please don't get up--you look so comfortable
with your book. What is it? Oh, yes, of course, THAT. People were
talking about it a good deal when I left London, but I haven't read it.
Is it good?'

'I like it,' said Madeline. She half rose as Mrs. Innes entered; but as
the lady did not seem to miss the ceremony of greeting, she was glad to
sink back in her chair.

'And how do you like Simla? Charming in many ways, isn't it? A little
too flippant, I always say--rather TOO much champagne and silliness. But
awfully bracing.'

'The Snows are magnificent,' Madeline said, 'when you can see them. And
there's a lot of good work done here.'