“Only that vicious old white cat, Lady Harriet,” said Tommy.  “Hullo, Tessa!  Your legs get six inches longer every time I look at ’em.  Put her down, St. Bernard!  She’s going to race me to The Grand Stand.”

“But I want to go and see Uncle Everard and Aunt Stella at The Nest,” protested Tessa, hanging back from the contest.  “Besides Aunt Mary says I’m not to get hot.”

“You can’t go there anyway,” said Tommy inexorably.  “The Nest is closed to the public for to-night.  They are going to have a very sacred and particular evening all to themselves.  That’s why they wouldn’t come in here with us.”

“Are they love-making?” asked Tessa, with serious eyes.  “Do you know, I heard a blue jay laughing up there this morning.  Was that what he meant?”

“Something of that silly nature,” said Tommy.  “And he’s going to be a public character is Uncle Everard, so he is wise to make the most of his privacy now.  Ah, Bhulwana,” he stretched his arms to the pine-trees, “how I have yearned for thee!”

“And me too,” said Tessa jealously.

He looked at her.  “You, you scaramouch?  Of course not!  Whoever yearned for a thing like you?  A long-legged, snub-nosed creature without any front teeth worth mentioning!”

“I have!  You’re horrid!” cried Tessa, stamping an indignant foot.  “Isn’t he horrid, Uncle St. Bernard?  If it weren’t for that darling mongoose, I should hate him!”

“Oh, but it’s wrong to hate people, you know.”  Bernard passed a pacifying arm about her quivering form.  “You just treat him to the contempt he deserves, and give all your attention to your doting old uncle who has honestly been longing for you from the moment you left him!”

“Oh, darling!” She turned to him swiftly.  “I’ll never go away from you again.  I can say that now, can’t I?”

Her red lips were lifted.  He stooped and kissed them.  “It’s the one thing I love to hear you say, my princess,” he said.

The sun set in a glory of red and purple that night, spreading the royal colours far across the calm sky.

It faded very quickly.  The night swooped down, swift and soundless, and in the verandah of the bungalow known as The Nest a red lamp glowed with a steady beam across the darkness.

Two figures stood for a space under the acacia by the gate, lingering in the evening quiet.  Now and then there was the flutter of wings above them, and the white flowers fell and scattered like bridal blossoms all around.

“We must go in,” said Stella.  “Peter will be disappointed if we keep the dinner waiting.”

“Ah!  We mustn’t hurt his august feelings,” conceded Everard.  “We owe him a mighty lot, my Stella.  I wish we could make some return.”

“His greatest reward is to let him serve us,” she answered.  “His love is the kind that needs to serve.”

“Which is the highest kind of love,” said Everard holding her to him.  “Do you know—­Hanani discovered that for me.”