d to revise his estimate of her once again,
while his smile lost its satire.

"Sure you are comfy?" he asked before leaving her.

"Yes, thank you," she answered stiffly.

"Haughtiness does not become you, dear lady. What have I done?" he asked
coolly.

"You said I was a flirt!" she pouted.

"I'll take it back," he returned smiling broadly, thinking that she
certainly flirted delightfully. But shallow natures always flirted just
so.

"I have never been accused of that--in my life."

"It would be such a libel!" he conceded.

"Thank you," she said graciously as she shot him a forgiving glance both
radiant and alluring. "Do you know, I like you tremendously, though I
began by thinking you hateful."

"First impressions are often correct," he returned grimly, and retired.

By and by, when she was alone with her husband and childishly about to
recount the events of the afternoon with fidelity as to detail, she was
diverted by his grave distress at the coming parting. It was cruel to
inflict grief, and she wished he would be more reasonable.

"Old thing!" she said affectionately, rubbing her soft cheek against his
rough one; "think how much I, too, shall miss you! It won't be only on
your side!"

"Will you really miss me?" he asked infatuatedly.

"All the time. I love having you about, and if I am lonely at nights, I
have only to creep into your bed in the next room to be comforted. What
ever shall I do when that bed lies empty?"

It was heavenly to Meredith to hear this intimate revelation from her
lips, always so shy of expressing her need of him. It was a great
advance in the right direction, and his skies cleared as by magic. If
absence truly made the heart grow fonder, he would have no cause of
complaint against this short parting. It was the greater one in the
spring, the shadow of which was already darkening his horizon, that he
dared not contemplate.

However, there was plenty of time yet, and no earthly good was to be
gained by crossing bridges in anticipation.

The following day saw an exodus from the camp. Meredith took his wife
and child to Muktiarbad station, and saw them comfortably established in
the Collector's bungalow, known as the Bara Koti,[8] then returned to
his duties in the rural parts of his District, resolved to support his
deprivations with cheerful resignation.

[Footnote 8: Big House.]

CHAPTER V

WHAT CAN'T BE CURED

Ray Meredith tried for the first few days to su