"This is a new world for me," she said, looking up into Captain Stafford's amused face, "and I have so many questions to ask that I am afraid of turning into a mark of interrogation, or--as you said--a disturber of the peace." "You won't ask questions long," he answered, with a wise shake of the head. "Nobody does. Wherever English people go they take their whole paraphernalia with them; and you will find that, with a few superficial differences, Marut is no more or less than a snug little English suburb. A little more freedom of intercourse--a little less Philistinism, perhaps--but the foundations are the same. As to India itself, one soon learns to forget all about it." He then turned to Lois, who was intent on watching Mr. Travers. "You weren't on the race-course this morning," he said in an undertone. "I missed you. Why did you not come?" "I couldn't," she said. "There was too much to be done. We are rather short of servants just now, for reasons--well, that, according to you, ought not to be mentioned on a fine day." He laughed, but not as he had hitherto done. There was another tone in his voice, warmer, more confidential. It attracted Beatrice Cary's attention, and she looked curiously from Lois to the man beside her. About thirty-five, with a passably good figure, irregular, if honest, features, and an expression usually somewhat grave, he made no pretensions to any exterior advantage. He could apparently be gay, as now, but his gaiety did not conceal the fact that it was unusual. Altogether, he had nothing about him which appealed to her, but Beatrice Cary was inclined to resent Lois' obvious intimacy with him as something which accentuated her own isolation. "Can you make out what Mr. Travers is saying?" Lois asked, turning suddenly to her. "I can't hear a word, and I'm sure it's awfully interesting. Captain Stafford, do you know?" "I can guess," he answered, half smiling. "When Travers has a suggestion to make, it usually means that some one has to stump up." There was a general laugh. Travers looked around. "Some one has accused me falsely," he declared. "I have a prophetic sense of injury." "On the contrary, that is what I am suffering from," Stafford retorted. "Since hearing that you have a new scheme, I have been hastily reckoning how many weeks' leave I shall have to sacrifice to pay for it." Travers shook his head.