The arrival of a visitor to the Yellow House was not lost upon the neighbourhood; several young planters flocked down to look him up, and discussed fruit crops, tea crops, and the best beats for gurool, the best rivers and lakes for mahseer, and gave him hearty invitations to their respective bungalows. The German missionary sought him out, also Mr. Burgess the American doctor and padré, who worked among the lepers. He, like his predecessors, had been struck with the remarkable and almost magical change that had been wrought in and around the Pela Kothi. He beheld his patient, Major Jervis, in a comfortable airy room, dressed in a neat new suit, reading a recent _Pioneer_ like a sane man. Like a sane man, he discussed politics, local topics, and with greater enthusiasm his son, who unfortunately was not at home. Presently an excellent tiffin was served to the visitor, he was conducted round the garden, and as he noted the improvements in every department, he came to the conclusion that Jervis, junior, must be a remarkable individual. He had an opportunity of judging of him personally before he left, for he rode up just as Mr. Burgess was taking his departure, regretted that he had not arrived sooner, and calling for another pony, volunteered to accompany the reverend guest part of the way home. A spare resolute-looking young fellow and a capital rider, noted Mr. Burgess, as Mark’s young pony performed a series of antics all the way down the path in front of his own sober and elderly animal. “Your father is wonderfully better. I am his medical adviser, you know,” said the missionary. “Yes, and I wish you lived nearer than twelve miles.” “He has a wonderful constitution. He has had one stroke of paralysis, he may be taken suddenly, and he may live for the next thirty years. Is it long since you met?” “I have not seen him till lately--since I was a child.” “That is strange, though of course India does break up families.” “I was adopted by an uncle, and lived in London most of my time.” “Ah, I understand; and came out to visit your father.” “Yes, partly; indeed, I may say chiefly.” “And have thrown in your lot with him. Mr. Jervis, I honour you for it.” Mark looked uncomfortable, and his companion added, “This life must be a great change, indeed, as it were another form of existence, to you; you must not let yourself stagnate now you have set your house in order, but come among us when you can. There are Bray and Van Zee, the two nearest planters to you, both good fellows. You have a much nearer neighbour, that you will never see.” “Indeed, I am sorry to hear that. May I ask why?” “It is one who shrinks from encountering Europeans, even holds aloof from me. Though we work in the same field, we have rarely met.”