The last words were almost a whisper. He pressed nearer, bringing his face close to hers. At the same moment she felt a light touch on her shoulder, and drawing back to escape the disturbing eloquence of his eyes, she discovered the presence of his encircling arm. The discovery brought her to her feet--flushed, palpitating, aquiver with anger at this first shadow of insult to her maidenhood. "Will you take me in again, please?" she said quietly, and the request savoured of command. For her gentle nature was founded on a rock; and a very little below the unresisting surface one came upon adamant, pure and simple. But the unabashed Frenchman caught one of her hands, and crushed it against his lips. "_Petite amie_--forgive me! I was overbold. I am not fit to touch the hem of your dress. But one is only flesh and blood; and you . . . say you are not angry with me, in your heart . . . ." She drew her hand away decisively; and with unconscious cruelty rubbed the back of it against her dress, as if to remove a stain. "I am angry--I have a right to be angry," she answered in the same toneless voice. "And if you will not come in with me, I shall go alone." He rose then; and they crossed the enchanted courtyard together--a clear foot of space between them. The brilliance of the Durbar Hall smote the girl painfully. It was as though the light had power to penetrate and reveal her hidden perturbation. Without looking up, she felt her mother's eyes upon her; and the wild-rose tint of her cheeks deepened under their scrutiny. But she avoided meeting them, and, going straight to her father, slipped a small hand under his arm. She felt indefinably in need of protection, not only from the man, whose kiss had moved her more than he guessed, but from herself, and the new emotions quickening at her heart; and in all times of trouble she turned spontaneously to her father. He was the true parent of her spirit; and, but for the matter-of-fact, half-condescending devotion of three boys at home, Mrs Mayhew might, at times, have felt left out in the cold. "Enjoying yourself, little girl?" the father asked, smiling down at her. "Yes, of course, dear--ever so much," she replied, with brave untruthfulness; and the lie must have been forgiven her in heaven. But the veil of enchantment was rent; and no needle of earth has ever been ground fine enough to draw its frayed edges together. [1] Long loose coats. [2] Cross-belt. CHAPTER X. "Woman, I grope to find you; but I cannot, O, is there no way to you, and no path,-- No winding path!" --S. Phillips. And the good folk of Chumba,--men, women, and children,--were early astir on this June day, in whose fiery lap lay hid the luck of the State for the coming year.