she was beautiful," she said, in her usual
surly fashion. "But,"--and then came a series of those curious and
condemnatory phrases with which a woman invariably finishes her praise
of another woman's beauty, and which are too well known to be repeated.

"I did my best to try and persuade her to join us," continued Mrs
Jefferson, after duly agreeing with Mrs Masterman that perhaps the
stranger's hair was a shade too black, and her height too tall, and her
complexion too pale--and that there _was_ something uncanny in the
expression of the dark wild eyes, "more like the eyes of a horse than a
human being," was Mrs Masterman's verdict. "But nothing would induce
her. She says Society is all a sham. That we don't really amuse
ourselves or enjoy ourselves, however much we pretend to! My word!
doesn't she give it hot to everything. Policy, religion, diplomacy,
worldliness, theology, art. It seems to me she knows everything, and
has studied human life more accurately than the wisest philosopher I've
ever heard of."

"And did you discuss all those subjects during the course of a Turkish
Bath?" said a voice near her.

Mrs Jefferson started. The gentleman who had spoken was a recent
arrival. She only knew him as Colonel Estcourt. He was a singularly
interesting-looking man, home from India on sick leave, and the maidens,
and wives, and widows, of this polyglot assemblage at the Hotel were all
inclined to admiration of his physical perfections, and to
dissatisfaction at a certain coldness and disdainfulness of themselves,
which, to use their mildest form of reproach, was "odd and unmilitary."

Mrs Jefferson started slightly. "Oh, it's you, Colonel," she said.
"Yes, we did talk about all those subjects, and I surmise if all of you
people here heard her carry on against the way you live your lives,
you'd feel rather small."

"Did you?" asked Mrs Masterman unkindly.

The bath had not improved _her_ complexion, and her left foot was
paining her excessively. These two facts had not combined to sweeten
the natural acerbity of her temper. Mrs Ray Jefferson did not heed the
question, or the smile it provoked on one or two feminine lips.

"I should like to know who she is," she persisted. "She's been in India
too. I suppose you never met her, Colonel Estcourt? No one could
forget her who had!"

That cold impassive face changed ever so slightly. "India," he said,
"is a somewhat vague term, and covers a somewhat lar