sly. "I oughtn't
to say anything; but--well, all the men here run after you, and I can't
bear it. I'm a fool, I know, but I can't help being jealous. I'm always
afraid that some one of them will take you from me. The other woman
seems to be forgetting me completely. She hasn't written to me for
weeks, months. Surely she's tiring of me. I don't suppose she ever
really cared for me--just was bored in that dull station. If--if she
sets me free would you--could you ever like me well enough to marry me?"

The girl looked away over the valley and a little smile crept into her
eyes. Then she turned to him and laid her hand on his.

"Dear boy, if you were free I would," she answered.

They were all alone, no one to see them; and his arms went out to her.
But she drew back.

"Not yet, dear. You're another woman's property still," she said.

He bit his lip.

"Yes, you're right, sweetheart. But--well, even if I weren't, I haven't
much to offer you. I'm still in debt; and I'd be only condemning you to
pass all your existence in the jungle."

"There'd be no hardship in that, dear. I love the forest better than
anywhere else in the world. Life in it is happiness to me."

"But would you be content to live as Mrs. Dermot does?"

"Content? I'd love it better than anything else, if I were with you."

Then he forgot her reproof and she her high-minded resolves as his arms
went round her and he drew her to him until their lips met in a long,
passionate kiss. Afterwards they sat hand in hand and talked of what the
future would hold for them if only Fate were kind. And Mrs. Norton,
speeding across India to shatter their dream-world, smiled a little
grimly as she pictured to herself her meeting with Frank.

Next day the blow fell. Wargrave was sitting at lunch with Mrs. Dermot
and Muriel in the hotel dining-room when Violet's telegram was handed to
him. His companions could see that he had received bad news; but he
pulled himself together and said nothing about it until he was alone
with Mrs. Dermot in her private sitting-room after _tiffin_. Then he
exclaimed suddenly, handing her the telegram:

"She's on her way here."

Noreen understood even before she looked at the paper. When she read
the message she asked:

"What's she coming here for?"

"I don't know. I haven't had a letter from her for a long time," he
replied wearily.

"What are you going to do about her?"

"What can I?" he said with a gesture of despair. "It's f