mpson alone, was left to tell me, as
I have sent the child away to the hills for a couple of months. For
reasons of my own, I do not care to have a motherless girl exposed to
the indiscriminate hubbub of merely official society. The young lady
will probably not remain in India. I therefore sent them all away before
this official visit, which would have forced a child, almost yet a
school girl, out into the glare of this local junketing," he said with
feeling.

"Take this saber, Major. It was given up by Mir-zah Shah, a Warrior
Prince, in old days, so the legend goes. It is the sword of a king's
son. It will recall your own saber play so neatly conceived, and, as a
personal reminder, wear this for me! It is a rare diamond, which I have
treasured for many years. And its old Hindustanee name was 'Bringer of
Prosperity.'" Hardwicke bowed, and murmured his thanks.

The nabob slipped a superb ring from his finger, and then, as if he
had relieved his mind forever of a painful duty, dismissed the subject,
almost feverishly entertaining his solitary guest at the splendid feast
which had been prepared for General Abercromby. It was late when the
strangely assorted convives separated. "I will now send Simpson home
with you, in my carriage," solicitously remarked Johnstone, as the hour
grew late. "There is a prince's ransom on that sword--and, you did not
bring your noble charger! You must treat him well for my sake--for my
daughter's sake!"

"Will Miss Johnstone return soon?" said the heart-hungry lover, catching
at this last straw.

"It is undetermined! I may send them home in a few months. But, if I
have any little influence left, 'at Headquarters,' that shall always be
exerted for you. I am always glad to meet you, your father's son, for
Colonel Hardwicke was a true soldier of the olden days--brave, loyal,
and beyond reproach."

The lover's beating heart was smothered in this flowing honey. "Ah! I
must trust to Simpson!" he mused. "The old man is a sly one!"

Politely bowed out by the stern, lonely old man, Major Hardwicke
departed, his conversational guns spiked with the deft compliments, as
the mighty clatter of the returning General filled the courtyard of the
Marble House.

In the soft, wooing stillness of the night, Simpson, at the young
Major's side, found time to whisper: "Never let the Guv'nor see us
together! He's a sly one! There's a honey-baited trap in this! The
girl's been spirited off to Europe! I only kn