"Well, sir! There's his widow! A widow is usually the sure sign of a man's death; though I have heard of the widow's weeds being put on too soon. That was the case of a woman in our regiment whose husband was seconded for service in Africa. He was reported killed; and just as she was getting over her trouble and was cheering up a bit, owing to one of the unmarried sergeants paying her a little attention, he came back. She had to go into colours again before the black was half wore out, an expense all for nothing that she could ill afford, poor thing! But as William--that was my second--used to say: 'There's no plumbing the depths of a man's folly when he's a fool.' He should have written and told her that he wasn't dead; but that meant sending her money. Perhaps Mr. Ananda may come back one day like Sergeant Thompson." "His uncle stopped me on my way here to ask if I knew anything of him. I could give him no information, and I take it that you can't help any more than I can." "That's so right enough, and if you see the budmash again you may tell him that his precious nephew's whereabouts has nothing to do with me." "Possibly; but as Mr. Ananda belongs to our faith, I certainly think that his welfare has a great deal to do with me," said Alderbury with a touch of severity. "Of course, sir; it's only right; it's your profession to look after the converts. My business is housekeeping; and if the Christmas turkey was missing from the larder I should be in even more of a taking than you are over Mr. Ananda. As William--that was my first--used to say: 'Mind your own business and leave others to mind theirs.' You are leaving us to-morrow, sir, I understand. I've seen your men; they want to start off to-night with the cart if you have no objection. The portmanteau you are using will go on the motor. This will give them time to get to the mission-station before you arrive. I told your servant that I thought he could be spared." "By all means let them go if they wish. We shall all be glad to get home as we have been on a longer round than usual this time." "Yes, sir; as William--that was my third--used to say, when he got safely back after leaning a little too far in the canteen direction: 'There's no place like home, even though it's only a pigsty, Maria, me dear,' that was his way of speaking, he was such a gentleman in his manners." "My house is not a pigsty, Mrs. Hulver," protested Alderbury, while Eola's eyes twinkled. "I'm not saying that it is, though there's no woman in it. As William--that was my third--used to say: 'A house without a woman is only a house; it can never be called a home, however clever the man may be.'" "It is a fault that may be easily remedied," responded Alderbury. Mrs. Hulver glanced at him suspiciously, and then let her eyes rest upon Eola.