The afternoon wore on in drowsy quiet, both of the girls sleeping at intervals—­waited on at intervals by Hasamurti with fruit and cooling drinks—­ Yasmini silent oftener than not as the sun went lower, as if the details of what she had to do that night were rehearsing themselves in her mind.  No amount of questioning by Tess could make her speak of them again, or tell any more about the secret of the treasure.  At that age already she knew too well the virtue and fun of unexpectedness.

They ate together very early, reclining at a low table heaped with more varieties of food than Tess had dreamed that India could produce; but ate sparingly because the weight of what was coming impressed them both.  Hasamurti sang during the meal, ballad after ballad of the warring history of Rajasthan and its royal heroines, accompanying herself on a stringed instrument, and the ballads seemed to strike the right chord in Yasmini’s heart, for when the meal finished she was queenly and alert, her blue eyes blazing.

Then came the business of dressing, and two maids took Tess into her room to bathe and comb and scent and polish her, until she wondered how the rest of the world got on without handmaidens, and laughed to think that one short week ago she had never had a personal attendant since her nurse.  Swiftly the luxurious habit grows; she rather hoped her husband might become rich enough to provide her a maid always!

And after all that thought and trouble and attention she stood arrayed at last as no more than a maid herself—­true, a maid of royalty; but very simply dressed, without a jewel, with plain light sandals on her stockinged feet, and with a plain veil hanging to below her knees—­all creamy white.  She admitted to herself that she looked beautiful in the long glass, and wished that Dick could see her so, not guessing how soon Dick would see her far more gorgeously arrayed.

Yasmini, when she came into the room, was a picture to take the breath away,—­a rhapsody in cream and amber, glittering with gems.  There were diamonds sparkling on her girdle, bosom, ears, arms; a ruby like a prince’s ransom nestled at her throat; there were emeralds and sapphires stitched to the soft texture of her dress to glow and glitter as she moved; and her hair was afire with points of diamond light.  Coil on coil of huge pearls hung from her shoulders to her waist, and pearls were on her sandals.

“Child, where in heaven’s name did you get them all?” Tess burst out.

“These?  These jewels?  Some are the gifts of Rajput noblemen.  Some are heirlooms lent for the occasion.  This—­and this” she touched the ruby at her throat and a diamond that glittered at her breast like frozen dew—­ “he gave me.  He sent them by his brother, with an escort of eight gentlemen.  But you should wear jewels, too.”

“I have none—­none with me—­”

“I thought of that.  I borrowed these for you.”