Honor pulled it off. She felt a long, fervent kiss pressed upon her hand. Then she said-- “You will give me leave to write to you and send you books? You must. I will take no refusal. But we can talk about that in the morning, can we not?” There was no answer beyond another kiss upon her hand and a profound sigh. In the very early dawn Honor awoke, and sat up and looked about her eagerly. The other charpoy was bare and empty. She jumped out of bed, and nearly upset her ayah, entering behind the door chick, with her early morning tea. “Where is the other lady?” she asked excitedly. “Oh, that Persian woman, she went when it was as yet dark. Behold her on her journey.” And she pointed to a narrow road at the other side of the valley, up which a dandy with bearers was rapidly passing out of sight. * * * * * After this experience, Honor felt that she had suddenly become years older. She looked unusually pale and grave as she joined the Brandes at breakfast. “Well, dear, and how did you get on?” asked her aunt. “Did she smoke a huka all night?” “No, auntie.” “Was she very dark and fat, and did she chew betel nut?” “No”--rather shortly. “And is that all you have to say?”--in a tone of keen disappointment. “Good gracious, Sara!” exclaimed her husband, impatiently, “you don’t suppose that they carried on any conversation, unless they talked in their sleep.” “And here are your bangles and things, dear,” continued her aunt. “But I don’t see your little cornelian ring anywhere! I really--it’s not worth a penny--but I don’t see it.” No--nor was she ever likely to see it again. CHAPTER XXVII. MRS. LANGRISHE PUTS HERSELF OUT TO TAKE SOMEBODY IN. The little excursion into the interior lasted ten days. Mr. Brande was fond of thus throwing off the trammels of office and putting many miles of mountain and valley between himself and official letters, telegrams, and scarlet chuprassis, with their detestable tin boxes. He remained away until the last hour of his leave, enjoying leisurely marches, _al fresco_ tiffins and teas in inviting spots, also friendly discussions with the sturdy Paharis or hill-folk. He returned to Shirani as much refreshed by the change as his good lady. Tea was ready in the verandah when they reached home. Everything appeared in apple-pie order even to the mistress’s keen eye, from the snowy-clad khitmatgars, the glossy dark-green ferns to the flouted pup, newly washed and be-ribboned, who was in attendance in the ayah’s arms. In a short time Mrs. Sladen appeared to welcome the family. She was speedily followed by Mrs. Paul in a rickshaw and Miss Valpy on a smart chestnut pony. “We have come to hear all your news,” said the latter, as she helped herself to a nice little hot cake. “News! Pray where should _we_ get news?” demanded Mrs. Brande, whose spirits had evidently revived. “Come, tell us what has been going on in Shirani.”