on.

I certainly could have dispensed with Aunt Selina when the automobile
drew up in the golden river of the sunrise at the hotel. There were only
the driver, a personal servant, and the two ladies; Mrs. Delany, comely,
pleasant, talkative, and Vanna--

Her face in its dark motoring veil, fine and delicate as a young moon in
a cloud drift--the sensitive sweet mouth that had quivered a little when
she spoke of Fitzgerald--the pure glance that radiated such kindness to
all the world. She sat there with the Key of Dreams pressed against her
slight bosom--her eyes dreaming above it. Already the strange airs of
her unknown world were breathing about me, and as yet I knew not the
things that belonged unto my peace.

We glided along the straight military road from Peshawar to Nowshera,
the gold-bright sun dazzling in its whiteness--a strange drive through
the flat, burned country, with the ominous Kabul River flowing through
it. Military preparations everywhere, and the hills looking watchfully
down--alive, as it were, with keen, hostile eyes. War was at present
about us as behind the lines in France; and when we crossed the Kabul
River on a bridge of boats, and I saw its haunted waters, I began to
feel the atmosphere of the place closing down upon me. It had a sinister
beauty; it breathed suspense; and I wished, as I was sure Vanna did, for
silence that was not at our command.

For Mrs. Delany felt nothing of it. A bright shallow ripple of talk was
her contribution to the joys of the day; though it was, fortunately,
enough for her happiness if we listened and agreed. I knew Vanna
listened only in show. Her intent eyes were fixed on the Tahkt-i-Bahi
hills after we had swept out of Nowshera; and when the car drew up
at the rough track, she had a strange look of suspense and pallor. I
remember I wondered at the time if she were nervous in the wild open
country.

"Now pray don't be shocked," said Mrs. Delany comfortably; "but you two
young people may go up to the monastery, and I shall stay here. I am
dreadfully ashamed of myself, but the sight of that hill is enough for
me. Don't hurry. I may have a little doze, and be all the better company
when you get back. No, don't try to persuade me, Mr. Clifden. It isn't
the part of a friend."

I cannot say I was sorry, though I had a moment of panic when Vanna
offered to stay with her--very much, too, as if she really meant it. So
we set out perforce, Vanna leading steadily, as i