and on several occasions addressed Miss Leigh’s temporary “uncle” in a manner that increased Shafto’s natural aversion to what Hoskins termed “The great blond brute!” The play proved to be a success and there was little or no jealousy or friction.  Amazing to record, Miss Pomeroy and Miss Leigh—­the two principal ladies—­still remained the very best of friends.  During rehearsals Shafto and his “niece” exchanged a good deal of dialogue that was not in the piece—­thanks partly to Mrs. Milward’s introductions and revelations, and partly to a mutual attraction, they now knew one another rather well.  They sat with their chaperon and listened to her incessant flow of talk with appreciative sympathy, played deck quoits, walked and danced together, and were for looks and accomplishments the most prominent couple on the Blankshire.

“Tell me, dear lady,” said Mrs. Maitland, sinking into a deck-chair beside Sophy’s chaperon, “do you intend anything to come of that?” and she nodded at a pair who, with heads fairly near, were leaning over the side, engrossed in watching the divers at Aden.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s rather a case, is it not?  First love and an early marriage!”

“If you mean Sophy and young Shafto, why, they haven’t a bad sixpence between them!”

“No?” and Mrs. Maitland looked gravely interrogative.

“Well, perhaps I’ve been incautious—­indiscreet—­now that I look back.”  (Yes, and with a sense of guilt she recalled her talks to both; her praise and her explanations.) “But the fact is that though they have never met till now, I’ve known them both as children, and I could not well avoid bringing them together, but I don’t think there’s any harm done; they are as simple and open as the day.  There’s no flirting—­they are just enjoying the new surroundings and these golden hours—­but I’ll be more careful and put a stop to their after-dinner promenades.  I’ll take your hint.”

“I hope it won’t be a case of locking the stable-door when the steed has been stolen.”

“No; but whoever steals Sophy will get a prize—­and she does thoroughly enjoy every hour of the day.  She is so pretty and transparent and sweet; she makes me think of a lovely flower, floating serenely on a summer river.  I expect she will be a great success in Rangoon.”

As there was no immediate answer on the part of Mrs. Maitland, she added quickly: 

“Don’t you think so?”

“Well, yes—­I hope so; but, you see, Miss Leigh is going to live in rather an odd home.”

“Odd?”

“Oh, it’s absolutely respectable—­but—­out of the world—­our world.  Mr. Krauss is a German and said to be rich; he does not belong to a firm or house, but is on his own.  Of course, he is a member of the Gymkhana and all that; but he keeps to the German set and lives among them over in Kokine; then his English wife, once a celebrated beauty, is a semi-invalid.  As he never—­they say—­does anything without some well-considered reason, and is always on the make, I hope to goodness he has not decoyed this charming girl to Rangoon merely to be her aunt’s nurse—­and his housekeeper.”