“I suppose you thought me shut up in my mountain home,” the man said, “and probably wondered why I had not answered your very interesting letter.  It was so kind of you in all your gaiety here to think of me in my loneliness.”

Noreen had quite recovered from her surprise and smiled brightly at him.

“Yes, I believed you to be in Ranga Duar,” she said.  “How is it you are here?”

“An unexpected summons reached me at the same time as your letter.  Four days ago I had no idea that I should be coming here.”

“How could you bear to leave your beloved jungle and that dear Badshah?  I know you dislike hill-stations,” said the girl, laughing and tremulously happy.  The world seemed a much brighter place than it did five minutes before.

“My beloved jungle has no charm for me at this season,” he said.  “But Badshah—­ah, that was another matter.  I have seldom felt parting with a human friend as much as I did leaving him.  The dear old fellow seemed to know that I was going away from him.  But I was very pleased to come here to see how you were enjoying yourself in this gay spot.  I was glad to know that you were out of the Terai during the Rains.”

So he had wanted to see her again.  Noreen blushed, but Dermot did not observe her heightened colour, for he had taken her programme out of her hand in his usual quiet, masterful manner and was scrutinising it.

“You haven’t said yet if I may have a dance,” he continued.  “But I know that on an occasion like this I must lose no time if I want one.”

“Oh, do you dance?” she asked in surprise.  Somehow she had never associated him with ballrooms and social frivolities.

Dermot laughed.

“You forget that I was on the Staff in Simla.  I shouldn’t have been kept there a day if I hadn’t been able to dance.  What may I have?”

Noreen felt tempted to bid him take all her programme.

“Well, I’m engaged for several.  They are all written down.  Take any of the others you like,” she said demurely, but her heart was beating fast at the thought of dancing with him.

“H’m; I see that all the first ones are booked.  May I—­oh, I see you have the supper dances free.  May I take you in to supper?”

“Yes, do, please.  We haven’t met for so long, and I have heaps to tell you,” the girl said.  “We can talk ever so much better at the supper-table than in an interval.”

“Thank you.  I’ll take the supper dances then.”

“Wouldn’t you care for any others?” she asked timidly.  What would he think of her?  Yet she didn’t care.  He was with her again, and she wanted to see all she could of him.

“I should indeed.  May I have this—­and this?”

“With pleasure.  Is that enough?”

“I’ll be greedy.  After all, the men up here have had dances from you all the Season, and I have never danced with you yet.  I’ll take these, too, if you can spare them.”