avalier was Major
Fletcher, by every line of his figure a soldier, by every word of his
conversation a gentleman. Exceedingly self-possessed at all times, it
was seldom, if ever, that he laid himself open to a snub. It was
probably for this very reason that Beryl liked him better than most of
the men in Kundaghat, was less distant with him, and usually granted the
very little that he asked of her.

She turned to him at once with a random remark about the polo-players,
wondering if they would be able to hold their own against a native team
with whom a match had been arranged for the following week.

"Oh, I think so," he said. "The Farabad men are strong, but our fellows
are hard to beat. It won't be a walkover for either side."

"Where will the match be played?" she asked, nervously afraid of letting
the subject drop lest Lord Ronald should claim her attention.

"Here," said Major Fletcher. "It was originally to have been at Farabad,
but there was some difficulty about the ground. I was over there
arranging matters only this evening. The whole place is being turned
upside down for a native fair which is to be held in a few days, when
the moon is full. You ought to see it. It is an interesting sight--one
which I believe you would enjoy."

"No doubt I should," she agreed. "But it is rather a long way, isn't
it?"

"Not more than twelve miles." Fletcher's dark face kindled with a sudden
idea. "I could drive you down some morning early if you cared for it."

Beryl hesitated. It was not her custom to accept invitations of this
sort, but for once she felt tempted. She longed to demonstrate her
independence to Lord Ronald, whose suggestions regarding her inability
to take care of herself had so sorely hurt her pride. Might she not
permit herself this one small fling for his benefit? It would be so good
for him to realise that she was no incompetent girl, but a woman of the
world and thoroughly well versed in its ways. And at least he would be
forced to recognise that his proposal had been little short of an
absurdity. She wanted him to see that, as she wanted nothing else on
earth.

"You think it would bore you?" asked Fletcher.

"No," she said, flushing slightly; "I think I should like it."

"Well done!" he said, with quiet approval. "You are such a hermit, Mrs.
Denvers, that it will be quite a novelty for us both."

She met his eyes for an instant, assailed by a sudden memory of Lord
Ronald's vague remarks concern