"I don't mean to think any more about it," said the doctor. As there was a good deal of ceremony observed by the Princess in coming to meet them, something in the form of a procession was made, the Rajah with great courtesy and good taste offering his arm to the oldest lady of the party--Mrs Doctor Bolter; and the pleasant little lady flushed slightly as she was led up to the Princess, who took her by the hands, kissed her on both cheeks, bidding her welcome and thanking her for coming; and then taking a magnificent bouquet of sweet-scented flowers from one of her attendants, she presented it to her guest. Chumbley was one of the next to approach with the lady of a merchant settled at the station; and the Princess's eyes flashed as the bright look of welcome to the great manly young fellow changed into one of anger. It was but a flash though, and the next moment she was smiling as if in contempt of her suspicions, for the lady Chumbley escorted was sallow and grey, and the greeting to her was made as warm and affectionate as that to the doctor's lady. Then the Princess held out her plump, brown, well-shaped hand to Chumbley. "I am glad to see you," she said, with a smile, and her eyes seemed to rest with satisfaction upon his goodly proportions. "Take that," she added, as she removed a great yellow jasmine sprig from her rich black hair; and Chumbley bowed, and placed it in his buttonhole. They passed on, and other guests approached to be presented to the Princess in this sylvan drawing-room, held in the pale green light of the shade beneath the palms and lacing ferns, through which an arrowy rain of silver threads of sunlight seemed to be ever falling, flashing and scintillating the while. The Resident was greeted with the most friendly warmth; and Grey, who held his arm, was folded in quite a warm embrace. The choicest bouquet of sweetly-scented flowers being placed in her hands, the fair English girl flushed with pleasure as her tawny hostess said, softly: "Don't go away, Miss Stuart. You will stay and sit near me." "You seem to have thoroughly won the Inche Maida's heart, Miss Stuart," said the Resident, looking smilingly into his companion's face. "I like her very much," replied Grey. "She seems to be very natural and feminine. I hope she means it all." "Yes; it would be unpleasant to find out that it was all glaze," said the Resident, thoughtfully. "But do you know," he continued, speaking very slowly, and watching the continuation of the reception the while, "I think she is a very jolly, good-hearted sort of woman, and--I-- should--think--she--is--very genuine. Yes," he added, after a pause and speaking now quickly, "I am sure now that she has no more dissimulation in her than a fly. What do you say?" "Oh, Mr Harley, what does that mean?" VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. THE FOREST BANQUET.