Their stay at the Capital, on this occasion, was but of short duration, as Sir Lexicon was anxious to return to Pallamcotta to finally arrange the business that had taken him to Hamburg.  To this arrangement her ladyship made no objection, it suited her views exactly; her idea was, that her advent in India should become known to the gay and fashionable butterflies of the Presidency as quietly and gradually as might be.  It was necessary that they should be aware there was such a person as Lady Chutny in existence; but for the present she would be heard of only and not seen, so that when she appeared among them and threw open her splendid rooms for balls and other entertainments it would be considered a matter of course, a thing to be expected from the wife of so wealthy a man as Sir Lexicon was reputed to be.  Her ladyship’s theory was the correct one, for by acting in this manner she would be relieved from the hubbub and cry of “Who is she?” and “Where does she come from?” that would consequently follow, should she at once rush into the vortex of fashionable life.  She had no intention of burying herself at Pallamcotta, now that she had attained the position for which she had risked so much.  She had played her cards boldly and unscrupulously, and, during the shuffle had twice nearly come to ruin; but she had now, she believed, won the odd trick that would secure her the game, and she resolutely determined to hold on to the stakes thus acquired.  From the retrospect of her past life she turned herself steadfastly away, and looked only into the brilliant future, which she fancied was opening before her.  What was there to fear?  There was no one in India who could recognize her, or knew anything of her antecedents.  Edith and Arthur had returned to England; restitution had been made and justice done them by the unlooked for death of Sir Ralph Coleman.  He was the chief culprit; she merely an accessory, acting under his direction and guidance; and, now that she had placed oceans between her and the scene of their crime, nothing, she argued, could transpire to mar her triumph, and, laying this flattering unction to her soul, her ladyship prepared for her journey with a buoyancy of spirit that astonished even herself.

Lady Chutny found the establishment at Pallamcotta very different from what she had anticipated.  So unlike the Bungalows of rich civilians at the Capital, where all was order and quiet, and the gardens well kept.  Here everything was slovenly and in confusion, only a small quantity of the furniture that had lately arrived from Madras had been unpacked, and this was strewn about the drawing-room and sleeping apartments without the least attempt at arrangement.  The Bungalow had been originally a very handsome one, but from indolence and carelessness had been allowed to fall into a partially dilapidated state.  The only covering to the floors of the large, handsome apartments was the common matting of the country.  The same was the case in the broad and spacious verandahs,