Behind these barriers, on either side, the date and cocoa palms grew in thick profusion, hiding from view the dwelling-houses which lay among them. At short intervals a disreputable-looking gate was passed, the paint peeling off in patches from the wood-work. With the exception of the one or two couples returning from service, and a few native Christians at Pinto's liquor stall, lounging with the flies among the long-necked glass bottles, there were no people in the street. The middle of the road was six inches deep in fine dust, but on the side where the pavement should have been, was a small pathway, beaten hard, with just sufficient room for two, provided they walked somewhat closely to each other. John went in the dust, leaving his companion the whole of the sidewalk. His boots were covered with the clinging gray powder, and a portion of it had sprinkled itself on his clothes. "It's very dusty there, Mr. Galbraith; don't you think you had better come on to the sidewalk?" "Thank you," said John humbly, as he joined the widow. As he came up, the folds of her dress brushed against him, and her shoulder grazed his. The touch sent a thrill through Galbraith's veins. "I--I beg pardon," said he nervously, "I am very awkward." The widow smiled slightly, and shot a glance at him from under her dark eye-lashes. "I don't see that you have anything to beg pardon for." Galbraith was about to say that all life should be one appeal for pardon, but he checked himself, and, glancing at the walls on either side of them, remarked-- "I wonder how many thousands of bottles were used to make that defence work on the walls here!" "I really couldn't tell, Mr. Galbraith," replied the widow a little sharply. John remained silent and abashed for a few moments, and at last she spoke. "I got your letter, of course, this morning. What was it you were going to tell me? Not about the glass bottles, I hope?" and she showed an even row of pearly teeth between her red lips. A cold sweat burst out on Galbraith's forehead, and his tongue seemed paralysed. "I--I," he stammered, and then he clutched at a straw. "But what a number of people are on the road to-day." "There is the short cut, and I think we had better take that." The widow lifted her skirts slightly, and daintily tripped across. John caught a glimpse of an exquisite foot and ankle as he followed. "Lord," he cried in his heart, "deliver me from temptation!" Arrived at the opposite side of the road, Halsa turned to her companion, and putting out her foot, looked ruefully at it. "I have made my boots so dusty--what a horrid road this is!" John glanced round him nervously, then he pulled out his handkerchief. "May I?" he asked in a hesitating manner as he waved the folds in the air. "If you would be so kind;" and John, stooping down, brushed away the dust from one dainty foot, and then the other. He could not help lingering over the task.