She nodded a quick agreement, and they started off, thus following the example of others of the party who had already made use of the Rajah's suggestion that they should visit the chief and most interesting portions of the palace. Nehal Singh himself stood alone, and thankful for his loneliness. For the last ten minutes Colonel Carmichael and he had stood side by side, and found no word to say to each other. The past, which might have been a link, proved itself a barrier which neither could scale, and presently, on some excuse, the Colonel had hurried off to join his wife. As though guided by a sure instinct, Nehal Singh turned in the direction where Beatrice was standing with her mother and Travers. Without hesitation he went up to her. "I have waited to be your guide," he said. His words sounded amusingly decided and matter-of-course, and a smile of not very sympathetic meaning passed over the faces of those within earshot. "You can be sure she went a lot further than she cared to say," Mrs. Berry whispered to her daughter. "You can see how everything was made up beforehand. I wonder what she expects to get out of him?" Though the remark did not reach her, Beatrice's instinct and bitter experience supplied her with a sure key to the look that was exchanged between the two women. She smiled gaily. "I shall be only too pleased," she said. "What I have seen has made me thirst for more." "Indeed, Your Highness," Mrs. Cary broke in eagerly. "I must not forget to thank you for the really very kind assistance you lent my reckless daughter the other day. I do not know what would have happened to her if it had not been for you!" Nehal Singh looked at her with a grave wonder. "You are her mother--?" he said, and then stopped short. The wonder was reflected so clearly in his tone that an angry flush mounted to Mrs. Cary's fat cheeks. "I have that honor, Your Highness," she said acidly. "Mrs. Cary!" Travers called from the flower-bed over which he was leaning. "If the Rajah Sahib can spare you, do come and look at these flowers. They are extraordinary." With her head in the air, her plumes waving, a picture of ruffled dignity, Mrs. Cary swayed her way in the direction indicated, and Nehal Singh and Beatrice found themselves alone. "Will you come with me now?" he asked. "I have still so much to show you." She saw the look of self-satisfied "I-told-you-so" horror written on the faces of Mrs. Berry and her friends, who stood a little farther off whispering and nodding, and if she had felt the slightest hesitation, she hesitated no longer. "Lead the way, Rajah Sahib," she said coolly. "I follow." CHAPTER VIII THE IDEAL