sometimes out of ashes. And it has been so with
me. My rose of love was slow in growing, but it blossoms now, and I am
training it over all the blank spaces. And it grew out of a barren soil,
dear, out of a barren soil."

Stella's arms were close about her as she finished. "Oh, thank you," she
whispered tremulously, "thank you for telling me that."

But though she was deeply stirred, no further confidence could she bring
herself to utter. She had found a friend--a close, staunch friend who
would never fail her; but not even to her could she show the blackness
of the gulf into which she had been hurled. Even now there were times
when she seemed to be still falling, falling, and always, waking or
sleeping, the nightmare horror of it clung cold about her soul.

CHAPTER III

THE BARREN SOIL

No one could look askance at poor Ralph Dacre's young widow. Lady
Harriet Mansfield graciously hinted as much when she paid her state call
within a week of her arrival. Also, she desired to ascertain Stella's
plans for the future, and when she heard that she intended to return to
Kurrumpore with Mrs. Ralston she received the news with a species of
condescending approval that seemed to indicate that Stella's days of
probation were past. With the exercise of great care and circumspection
she might even ultimately be admitted to the fortunate circle which
sunned itself in the light of Lady Harriet's patronage.

Tommy elevated his nose irreverently when the august presence was
withdrawn and hoped that Stella would not have her head turned by the
royal favour. He prophesied that Mrs. Burton would be the next to come
simpering round, and in this he was not mistaken; but Stella did not
receive this visitor, for on the following day she was in bed with an
attack of fever that prostrated her during the rest of his leave.

It was not a dangerous illness, and Mrs. Ralston nursed her through it
with a devotion that went far towards cementing the friendship already
begun between them. Tommy, though regretful, consoled himself by the
ready means of the station's gaieties, played tennis with zest,
inaugurated a gymkhana, and danced practically every night into the
early morning. He was a delightful companion for little Tessa Ermsted
who followed him everywhere and was never snubbed, an inquiring mind
notwithstanding. Truly a nice boy was Tommy, as everyone agreed, and the
regret was general when his leave began to draw to a close.

On