"And really," pursued Aspasia, warming to her subject, "the way he pounced upon us last summer up in the hills was enough to ruin the nerves of a camel. No sooner gone than he was back. Positively one would rather have had him at home the whole time!" Force of comparison evidently could no further go. Lady Gerardine gave one of her rare laughs. Baby’s face was all wrathful gravity. Poor Sir Arthur! Disciplinarian as he was, he failed to inspire his immediate circle with anything like average respect. It was a study in morals to watch the rapidity with which the first awe of some newly joined member of his English staff, the flattered reverential fascination produced by early intercourse with the great man, gave way to the snigger, the jeer, the grudging submission. But, serene in his own consciousness of power and his own heaven-born gift of applying it, Sir Arthur laid down the law smilingly and inflexibly; and the native world about him, at least, bowed to his rule with impassive face and supple back. And, if there were any symptoms of that mutiny which his niece declared a long continuance of his rule must inevitably foster, it is quite certain that he would have refused to believe in it until the rebel’s knife was actually at his throat. "Ah," cried he, coming in upon them at the sound of his wife’s laugh, "that’s better! I thought we should soon have you on the right road when Sir James took you in hand." Sir James’s harmless ammonia mixture, orange-scented, differed as little from Dr. Saunders’ sedative drops as the pith of his flowery advice from the latter’s blunt statement. But Dr. Saunders was in deep disgrace, and would probably remain so until the Governor’s next colic. Lady Gerardine’s face had instantly fallen back to its usual expression of indifference. "I hope you weren’t listening," cried Aspasia, pertly, "we were just saying what a bore you are." Sir Arthur laughed again, very guilelessly, and stooped to pinch her little pink ear. "I have wired to Sir James to have his opinion upon the best resort for you in England, until my arrival, dear. His answer has just come." He spread out the flimsy sheet and ran his short trim finger along the lines: "’Decidedly Brighton, Margate, or Eastbourne.’ It is evident he thinks you require bracing." "I have quite decided where I am going," answered Lady Gerardine, turning her head on her cushion to look at him. "Eh?" cried Sir Arthur, scarce able to believe his ears. "I have been unable to talk business, hitherto," proceeded his wife, gently. "But I wanted to tell you I have decided: I go to Saltwoods." "To Saltwoods?" His eyes were fixed, protruding, in displeased amazement.