It was many months before the stately Ida recovered her mental equilibrium, and her spirits. The experiences she had undergone at the hands of “a girl in a thousand” had aged her considerably; there are now a good many lines in her smooth, ivory-tinted face, and silver threads among her well-dressed brown locks. Every one tacitly avoids the subject of broken-off engagements, theatricals, and nieces in her presence; and it would be a truly bold woman (such as is _not_ Mrs. Brande) who would venture to inquire “what had become of her charming niece, who _was_ to have married the baronet?” CHAPTER XLIV. A ROSE--CARRIAGE PAID. “Sahib, there is some one coming--in a jampan,” was the bearer’s surprising announcement to Jervis, who was sitting under a tree in the garden, busily engaged in painting a portrait of the bearer’s grandson. Now, a jampan, or dandy, is a sort of hill sedan-chair, and a mode of conveyance exclusively reserved for ladies. Who could the lady be who was coming to the Pela Kothi? thought the young man, starting to his feet. Honor? Impossible! Mrs. Brande? No--the big picnic had dispersed ten days ago. He hurried out into the verandah, and shaded his eyes with his hand. Yes, sure enough, a dandy, borne by four men, and containing some one holding an enormous white umbrella--some one being carried backwards up the hill, followed by a native on a pony and two coolies with luggage. The _cortége_ were distinctly making for the house, for they turned off the road into the direct path; but all that was visible was the white umbrella bobbing along among the tall jungle grass--and the white umbrella was approaching, as sure as fate. * * * * * For the last week Mark had noticed a great change in his father. As his mind strengthened, his bodily health appeared to fail--the hundred turns on the terrace were gradually lessening each morning as the steps that paced them became feebler and feebler, and the daily routine was now entirely set aside. An early ride had been Mark’s chief relaxation, then breakfast with his father, afterwards he read the paper to him, talked to him, walked with him, until about three o’clock, when Major Jervis went to sleep--and slept almost uninterruptedly till dinner time. Meanwhile his son walked over to see one of the neighbours, or sketched--he had made quite a gallery of types and portraits--or took his gun to try his luck among the hills.