s all
that is wanted of us."

"If any one's prayers ever reach heaven, I am sure yours do!... Do you
ever pray for me?"

"Always!"

"What for, specially?"

Honor hesitated for a moment, then murmured, "That we may never be
parted in life, and that I may succeed in making you happy."

Dalton kissed her reverently. "Any more than that? Do you never say,
'Make him a good boy'? I need that more than anything. It is what
mothers teach their kiddies to say, but it's forgotten when they grow
up."

"I'll say that, too, if you wish it."

"Say it every night of your life; and also that my sins may be forgiven
me. They are many!"

The evening the nurse arrived from Calcutta to take charge of the case,
Meredith was improving in spite of the insupportable heat. _Punkhas_
waved unceasingly in the bungalows, and quantities of ice were consumed.
People moved about without energy, mopping their faces and yearning for
the relief of a nor'wester, while a "brain-fever" bird cried its
melancholy cadences with aggravating monotony, from a tree in the
Collector's garden, where every leaf and twig had a thick coating of
dust. A grey pall in the north-west tantalised with its suggestion of a
possible thunderstorm, which, if it burst, would instantly cool the
overcharged atmosphere; and anxious eyes glanced at it with longing.

Honor drove to the railway station in the Daimler to fetch the expected
nurse, and was in time to meet the express as it steamed in with its
long train of coaches, in which every window gaped, revealing in the
third-class compartments the spectacle of semi-nude humanity packed like
sheep in pens, perspiring, and anxious for the moment of release.

When the crowd on the platform had thinned, she saw a lady in a nurse's
cloak and bonnet, waiting by her trunks, the belabelled condition of
which advertised the fact that the owner was a much travelled person.

She was strikingly handsome in a bold and arresting way, with dark eyes
capable of expressing much, and full, red lips parted upon slightly
prominent teeth. She looked as if she could be extremely fascinating,
but there was something about her that did not inspire Honor with
confidence,--though she freely admired her grace and aplomb,--and she
thought she looked more like an actress than a nurse. Surely the stage
would have better suited one of her type! She wondered.

"I have been sent to fetch you. My name is Honor Bright."

"Oh, how d'you do! How kind