again the Moslem said, ‘Dimak.’ There is no danger of my ever forgetting that hateful word. “As I stood almost petrified with this my first introduction to white ants, one of the plagues of India, I was startled by the unexpected entrance of Harold. He had returned for some book, and seeing the door open had walked in. “Harold asked no questions; he saw at a glance what had happened. ‘Call the mihtar [sweeper], and have all this cleared away at once,’ he said to Nabi Bakhsh. Then gently taking my hand, my husband led me out into the open veranda. I was too much agitated to be able to speak. I attempted to smile, but failed. “‘I am very sorry to find the white ants in possession already,’ said Harold. ‘We must fight them in this bungalow, as we have fought them in my father’s. Happily a good supply of tar is left; some shall immediately be put round the lower part of the walls, and below the rafters, or the wood-work will become the prey of greedy little foes.’ “‘The rafters!’ I murmured faintly; ‘would the dimak bring down our very roof over our heads?’ “‘If we gave them time and opportunity they would do so,’ was the not consolatory reply. ‘But be assured, my Alicia, that active measures shall be taken at once.’ “And what was the result of these active measures, Lizzie? I have just come in from looking at my poor, certainly misnamed, Paradise. All my pretty paper has been pulled down and cleared away, and men are putting a funeral band of hideous black all round the upper part of the walls, along the rafters, and a few inches above the floor. There is a bespattering of the tar in unsightly spots even where it is not supposed to be needed. The whole effect is horrible, and my new bungalow smells like an old steamer. I do not know whether to laugh or to cry.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VII DIGGING DEEP. AT sunset Mr. Hartley and Robin unexpectedly returned to Talwandi, the strength of the former having proved unequal to the fatigues of camp-life. The old missionary had hardly been able to keep the saddle. “Why, Alicia, you must have been ill! what have you been doing while we were away?” was Robins first exclamation, as he took the hand of his sister and looked with affectionate concern at her pale face and drooping appearance. “Alicia has been a little imprudent,” said Harold. “And has paid dearly for her imprudence,” added Alicia with a rather forced smile. Then followed the story of the invasion of the white ants, and an account of the means taken to prevent its repetition.