Stella’s first impression of Bhulwana was the extremely European atmosphere that pervaded it.  Bungalows and pine-woods seemed to be its main characteristics, and there was about it none of the languorous Eastern charm that had so haunted the forbidden paradise.  Bhulwana was a cheerful place, and though perched fairly high among the hills of Markestan it was possible to get very hot there.  For this reason perhaps all the energies of its visitors were directed towards the organizing of gaieties, and in the height of the summer it was very gay indeed.

The Rajah’s summer palace, white and magnificent, occupied the brow of the hill, and the bungalows that clustered among the pines below it looked as if there had been some competition among them as to which could get the nearest.

The Ralstons’ bungalow was considerably lower down the hill.  It stood upon more open ground than most, and overlooked the race-course some distance below.  It was an ugly little place, and the small compound surrounding it was a veritable wilderness.  It had been named “The Grand Stand” owing to its position, but no one less racy than its present occupant could well have been found.  Mrs. Ralston’s wistful blue eyes seldom rested upon the race-course.  They looked beyond to the mist-veiled plains.

The room she had prepared for Stella’s reception looked in an easterly direction towards the winding, wooded road that led up to the Rajah’s residence.  Great care had been expended upon it.  Her heart had yearned to the girl ever since she had heard of her sudden bereavement, and her delight at the thought of receiving her was only second to her sorrow upon Stella’s account.

Higher up the hill stood the dainty bungalow which Ralph Dacre had taken for his bride.  The thought of it tore Mrs. Ralston’s tender heart.  She had written an urgent epistle to Tommy imploring him not to let his sister go there in her desolation.  And, swayed by Tommy’s influence, and, it might be, touched by Mrs. Ralston’s own earnest solicitude, Stella, not caring greatly whither she went, had agreed to take up her abode for a time at least with the surgeon’s wife.  There was no necessity to make any sudden decision.  The whole of her life lay before her, a dreary waste of desert.  It did not seem to matter at that stage where she spent those first forlorn months.  She was tired to the soul of her, and only wanted to rest.

She hoped vaguely that Mrs. Ralston would have the tact to respect this wish of hers.  Her impression of this the only woman who had shown her any kindness since her arrival in India was not of a very definite order.  Mrs. Ralston with her faded prettiness and gentle, retiring ways did not possess a very arresting personality.  No one seeing her two or three times could have given any very accurate description of her.  Lady Harriet had more than once described her as a negligible quantity.  But Lady Harriet systematically neglected everyone who had no pretensions to smartness.  She detested all dowdy women.