Chumbley removed his eyes at once from this disfigurement, and let them rest on the magnificent knot of jetty hair, in which were stuck, in company with large gold pins, clusters of a white and odorous jasmine. He could not help noting, too, the gracefully-worn scarf of gossamer texture, passing from her right shoulder beneath her left arm, and secured by a richly-chased gold brooch of native workmanship. This she removed to set the scarf at liberty, so as to throw over her head to screen it from the sun. Accustomed to command, she made no scruple in exposing her face to the gaze of men; but as the women who formed her train alighted, each raised her hands to a level with her temples, and spread the silken sarong she wore over her head, so that it formed an elongated slit, covering every portion of the face but the eyes, and following the Princess in this uncomfortable guise, they took their places ashore. "I have come to see the Resident," said the Princess, looking very fixedly at Chumbley, and speaking in excellent English. "Will you take me to his presence?" Chumbley bowed, and he forgot his slow drawl as he said that he would be happy to lead her to the Residency; but felt rather disconcerted as the visitor exclaimed, in a very pointed way: "I have not seen you before. Are you the lieutenant?" "I have not had the pleasure of meeting you either," he replied, rather liking the visitor's dignified way as he recovered himself; "but I have heard Mr and Miss Perowne talk of the Inche Maida." "What did they say about me?" she said, sharply. "That you were a noble lady, and quite a princess." "Ah!" she replied, looking at him fixedly. "How big and strong you are." Chumbley stared and tried to find something suitable to reply, but nothing came, and the situation seemed to him so comical that he smiled, and then, as the Princess smiled too, he laughed outright. "Forgive my laughing," he said, good-humouredly. "I can't help being big; and I suppose I am strong." "There is the Resident!" said the lady then; and she drew her hand from Chumbley's arm. "Ah! and the captain." For just then Harley stepped out from the Residency veranda to meet his visitors; and Hilton, who had found time to put on the regimental scarlet and buckle on his sword, came up to make the reception more imposing. The Princess shook hands in the European fashion, and accepted the Resident's arm, smiling and bowing as if excusing herself to Hilton. Then, declining to enter the house, she took a seat in the broad veranda amongst the Resident's flowers, while her women grouped themselves behind her, letting fall the sarongs they held over their faces now that, with the exception of a single sentry, none of the common soldiers were about to gaze upon their charms.