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ing him about there," said the major, as he glanced maliciously through the tangled creepers.
"But don't you think people must learn to talk pleasantly about everything--and nothing--when they have a great deal of entertaining to do like Miss Glanton? They seem so hospitable and invite everybody."
"That's just what they do--invite 'everybody'! It's Mrs. Glanton's patent method of making herself popular. She loves the voice of the majority. Very pretty in you, however, to set it down to kindness and that sort of thing--wish we had more of the bloom of charity among us, but I fear it wears off like the lovely English bloom"; and the major cast an admiring glance on the fair face of his companion.
As the talk rolled on, Hester began to think that Major Ryde's remarks were more outspoken and personal than she had been used to think quite in good taste, though she could not help feeling half amused by the smart running commentary with which he enlarged on his fellow guests, as soon as they were out of hearing.
It was therefore with true pleasure that she perceived at a little distance a lady to whom she had drawn more than to any other since her coming to Madras.
"Oh, yes, that's Mrs. Fellowes, from the sepoy cantonment at Royapooram," assented Major Ryde, showing in his tone the contempt he affected for the Native Infantry.
The tank is an integral part of the Indian garden, but the sheet of water in Mrs. Glanton's compound was larger and more picturesque than any Hester had seen. It looked alluring now, framed by graceful over-hanging branches and flooded by the gorgeous tints of the setting sun which transfigured its stagnant green waters, making them sparkle like a bed of gems.
"Oh, what lovely red water lilies!" exclaimed Hester, as she gazed with delight on the great knotted tendrils and broad green leaves where the bright floating flowers nestled. "I've only seen white lilies, and none grow on our tank. It's only a dreary little pond. Do you think, Mrs. Fellowes, I might possess myself of some of these beauties? They would add just the lacking colour to our white-walled dining-room."
But Hester, with playful agility, was already descending the flight of slippery steps which led to the darkening water, bent on capturing the prize. Stooping down she made a grasp at one of the nearest lilies, but the tangled stems were not so easily severed as she imagined.
"Take care, my dear," interjected Mrs. Fellowes with anxious eyes.
Suddenly Hester lost her footing on the slippery stone and found herself ankle deep in water, fortunately not overhead, for she had only slipped one step, the next flat green stone extending a good way out into the water. Her position, however, looked sufficiently alarming to her companion, who uttered a little cry and hastened to extend both her hands to help her.
The signal of distress happened to be heard by two strollers in the walk alongside, divided only from the tank-path by a thin jungly brake, through which the gleam of the water was visible. There was an instant crashing among the bushes, and in a moment Mark Cheveril appeared through the creepers just as Hester emerged from the water with a smiling face, though with dripping skirts, holding her trophy in her hand.
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