She ran to the edge of the verandah, and peered across the parched compound to the road. Above the feeble hedge of milk-bush she could see the head and shoulders of a horseman, of the very man with whom her thoughts were busy. The shock of black hair and short full beard made Major Keeling unmistakable at a time when beards were few, although there was no “regulation” military cut or arrangement of the hair. The fiercest-looking officer in Lady Haigh’s drawing-room at this moment, whose heavy moustache and truculent whiskers gave him the air of a swashbuckler, or at least of a member of Queen Cristina’s Foreign Legion, was a blameless Engineer of strong Evangelical principles. Lady Haigh saw at once the state of the case. The gathering at Government House had broken up at the early hour exacted by Lady Lennox, who was a vigilant guardian of her warrior’s health, and Major Keeling was whiling away the time by a moonlight ride before returning to his quarters. To summon one of the servants, and send him flying to stop the Major Sahib and ask him to come and speak to Lady Haigh, was the work of a moment; for though Major Keeling might be a woman-hater, he had never yet rebelled against the sway which his subordinate’s wife established as by right over all the men around her, for their good. Lady Haigh disliked the idea of putting her influence to the test in this way, for if Major Keeling refused to yield there could be nothing but war between them in future; but the matter was urgent. “You wanted to speak to me, Lady Haigh?” Major Keeling had dismounted, and was coming up the steps, looking almost gigantic in the picturesque full-dress uniform of the Khemistan Horse. “I want you to do a kindness,” she responded, rather breathlessly. “I know what that means. I am to break a rule, or relax an order, or in some other way go against my better judgment.” “I--I want you to let me bring a friend of mine to Alibad with me.” Major Keeling’s brow darkened. “I knew this would come. You assured me you could stand the isolation, but I knew better. Of course you want female society; it is quite natural you should. But you professed to understand that on the frontier you couldn’t have it.” “Not society--just this one girl,” pleaded Lady Haigh. “Who is she? a sister of yours or Haigh’s?” “No relation to either of us. She is Mr Ross’s sister--your old friend’s daughter--an orphan, and all alone.” “Engaged to any one who is going with me?” “No--o.” The negative, doubtful at first, became definite. “I won’t say a word about Ferrers, even to get him to let her come,” was Lady Haigh’s resolute determination. “Then she can’t come.” “Oh, Major Keeling! And if I had said she was engaged, you would have said that the man would be always wasting his time dangling round her.”