Eola intended making her confession after the servants were dismissed; but Mrs. Hulver departed quickly in their wake and defeated her purpose. She determined not to put it off and went to the housekeeper's room to inform her of the engagement without further delay. With the packing away of the uniform Mrs. Hulver drew a breath of relief. Anxiety was at an end, a load off her mind. "Take a chair, miss. The room is still untidy from having young William here; but the sweeper and I will soon get it straight when she comes back from her dinner." "It looks quite neat," said Eola inconsequently; she was wondering how she was to open the subject uppermost in her mind. "Your son got away all safe yesterday morning, I suppose." "Yes, miss!" Mrs. Hulver would not trust herself to more than the simple affirmative. "I am afraid you are rather tired after all the nursing you have had." "I took a good rest yesterday. After young William left I went to see my first husband's cousin, Mrs. de Silva. She was in a fine way about her girl who has refused to marry the man chosen for her. The silly child--she's only sixteen--has set her heart on a young Englishman who is out of employment. I did my best to cheer her up and to argue with the girl." "You are always doing something for others. You must think of yourself now and rest." "I'm happier when I am doing for somebody else, miss. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'You'll find happiness for yourself when you're hunting it for others.'" "That's quite true." There was a pause. Mrs. Hulver received a sudden shock. Her eyes had fallen on her husband's helmet which was lying on the camp cot. She had forgotten to put it away. Eola saw it and observed: "Your son has forgotten his helmet, surely." "That isn't my son's, miss! It belonged to his father. I got it out to show him the difference the authorities have made in the pattern. They are always changing, and it must cost the government something first and last. I have kept that old helmet as a momentum of my boy's father." "I suppose out of all the three you liked him best." "Well, miss, he was my choice. My first was my mother's choice, and my third chose me. You see, William, my second, left me with something else besides his helmet and that was young William." Eola's attention was wandering and Mrs. Hulver was pleased to see that the helmet had not excited her curiosity. "I want to tell you something; it is about Mr. Ananda," said Eola. Mrs. Hulver started, but was not to be caught off her guard. "To tell you the truth, miss; I am getting rather tired of Mr. Ananda's name. I dare say he has got safely away from Chirapore by this time if he isn't down the well. As William--that was my third--said when the barrack sweeper led him home from the canteen: 'Misfortune will find you queer friends in queer places.' If Mr. Ananda is still alive he has probably found some friend, queer or otherwise, to help him."