"I am glad you have put your boat by. I should not like to think of you stranded again, as I found you that wet dark night; but we did have a very snug walk home, did we not? And you don't know how your words then have rung on, and are ringing still with an undying echo in my soul. We are getting Home, and the thought of all that will be ours when we get there makes us think lightly of the present.' "So be it with me, I pray. Remember me to your father. I see you ask me to give you my setting. How can I do it? I am neither poet nor painter. I see hard brilliant skies of blue, mountains clad with thorns and cactuses, and evil beasts crouching in the thick jungles that are below them, some quaint relics of ancient heathen temples, and there are rather squalid settlements dumped down behind a stone fortress, with the inevitable bazaar and the noisy native quarters, and the European club, which is nothing more nor less than a very unsavoury drinking saloon. There are five miles of straight hard road, with parched turf by the side, and this is where I ride for my morning and evening exercise. We are too lethargic to play polo, or even tennis; there are not enough of us with healthy British blood in our veins to do so. Cards and billiards seem the only recreations that are popular. But I mean to start cricket or tennis if I can, more for the sake of young George Lockhart than myself. "May I call myself your fellow builder— "RANDOLPH NEVILLE." "He's a good man," murmured Sidney as she folded her letter up. "I don't believe he would ever fail his friends. And I do like his remarks about building." She thought over one of her buildings which had been overthrown, the one which had occupied the citadel of her heart, and though the smart and anguish of it had not yet left her, she dimly began to see the why and wherefore of its overthrow. The foundations were not worthy. She was thinking this out when a little later she walked over to the Rectory about some parish matters which she wished to lay before the Rector. He was an old man, but hale and hearty for his years, and lived with his housekeeper. Mrs. Lunn had been with him over twenty years, and was of the old-fashioned school. Sidney and she were great friends, and would have long talks together, comparing the past generation with the present. Mrs. Lunn considered that nothing ever came up to the "good old times that were gone." The Rector was in the hall, preparing to go out. He took Sidney's hand with fervour. "I believe you have been sent to me," he said. "I am in great trouble. I was just coming out to find either you or Miss Pembroke. Come into my study. No, not into the drawing-room." Then turning to his parlourmaid, who stood by, he said with some agitation: "Will you tell Miss Borlace that I am engaged for the present and cannot be disturbed."