The Judge, who had descended from his carriage, had not by any means the impressive appearance one is wont to attach to legal dignitaries at home. He was a small, meek-looking, fair man, with mild, blinking blue eyes, and a chronically tired expression. Though still in the prime of life, only his fair hair, unmixed with grey, saved him from giving the impression of being quite an old man. A struggling youth and the over-pressure of examinations, even more than the ravages of the climate, had thus prematurely aged him. But the Service had no better or more devoted member than James Goldring. And as for his loving heart, none knew it better than his daughter Jane, who was now welcoming him. "Look here, little Jane, why send that big landau to the Kutchery for me? You know I prefer my little bandy." "Of course, I know, daddy, but mother said the landau was to fetch you this afternoon." "I did, James," said Mrs. Goldring, coming forward. "You will persist in coming straight from the Kutchery to tennis in that hideous little band-box of yours and stepping out of it like a Jack-in-the-box. You've no regard for appearances--it doesn't do! And you, Jane, are just the same, you encourage your father--" "She does," returned the Judge, with a smile and a loving glint in his blue eyes as they rested on his daughter. "Well, I suppose I must go and make myself as gay and festive as you are," he added, looking admiringly at Jane's faded toilette without the least consciousness of its defects. "First your cup of tea, daddy," said Jane, bounding off and returning with a special brew in a lovely Sèvres cup and saucer which had been her gift to him. "A very bad habit you're getting your father into giving him tea before he goes out. And Mrs. Samptor looks furious when he declines her cakes--not that I specially desire to save her feelings," added Mrs. Goldring, recalling the sting of the recent interview. "Ah, but I do," said the Judge. "So not even a single biscuit with my tea, Jane, that I may do full justice to Mrs. Samptor's cakes, which are excellent, and made by her own tiny fingers." "Oh, don't you be paying her any compliments. She's quite conceited enough already. I've had her here not five minutes ago with no end of tittle-tattle--quite upset me!" "No end of tittle-tattle in Puranapore! She must have a lively imagination! I'm sure I've heard nothing exciting at the Kutchery to-day." "I shall tell you her news afterwards," said Mrs. Goldring, pursing up her lips as she rose from her chair. "We'd better not keep the horses waiting longer. I hear the Collector is to be there. I want a word with him if possible." "By the way, I did hear a bit of news to-day after all. The new Assistant has arrived! I shouldn't wonder if Worsley brings him round to the Samptors'."