d tactful helper. Both visitors were
wearing costumes which had been worn and admired at "Heidelberg" and
were still fairly presentable.

After a stay of an hour the ladies withdrew, leaving their hostess well
entertained but completely exhausted. Then they hastily sought out
Sophy in order to express to her, in private, their horror at the
terrible change in her aunt.

"Her spirit is there all right," said Mrs. Dowler (who had a
hundred-rupee note in her glove), "but oh, my dear Miss Leigh, _how_
she's wasted! I felt like crying all the time I was sitting with her."

"Yes, she should see a doctor, and that this very day," added Mrs.
Vansittart.

"Oh, but you know Aunt Flora," protested Sophy; "she cannot bear
doctors, and Lily, her ayah, knows pretty well what to do."

"Tell me, Miss Leigh, what is the real truth about your aunt's
illness?" said Mrs. Dowler, suddenly dropping her voice to a mysterious
whisper. "It has been so long and so tedious--off and on for at least
three years. She has been worse the last four months, and indeed ever
since you went up to May Myo. It is not a malignant growth, please
God?"

"Oh, no, nothing of that sort; just weakness and this relaxing climate."

"She should have returned home years ago," said Mrs. Vansittart; "and
when she does go--oh, it will be a bad day and a sad day for me and
many others, not to speak of all the animals she has befriended. She
is wonderfully sympathetic to dumb creatures and indeed to everybody."

"That's true," echoed her companion, "no one knows of your aunt's good
deeds and charities, not even her own servants, and that is saying
_everything_. Her hand has raised many an unfortunate out of the dust."

Thus whispering, advising and hoping and bemoaning, the two ladies were
conducted by Sophy to their jointly-hired _ticka gharry_, and were
presently rattled away.

Sophy, too, had her own particular visitors, Mabel Pomeroy, Mrs.
Gregory and Fuchsia--Fuchsia, almost daily. To her it seemed that
Sophy's confidences were frozen; she rarely mentioned her aunt, and
gave evasive answers to her friend's probing inquiries. At last the
brave American spoke out:

"You are frightfully changed, my Sophy girl--changed in a month. You
have become so dull and absent-minded, and have lost all your pretty
colour. Of course, _I_ know the reason, but you can do no good--no,
not a scrap. You had much better have gone home when you discovered
the secret