Mrs. Hulver having entered the bonds of matrimony three times considered that she was entitled to speak with authority on the condition of wifehood and widowhood. Eola Wenaston was twenty-seven years of age and unmarried. When Mrs. Hulver had reached that number of years she had been a wife for a decade, and had entered upon her first period of widowhood. Although a British father had done much to form her character, her Eurasian mother had instilled certain opinions to which she firmly adhered. One fixed belief, as strong as any article of her faith, was that every woman ought to be married. It was the duty of relatives and guardians to forward that end; it was even still more the duty of the woman herself to attract and secure the best husband available without immodesty. Miss Wenaston she found sadly wanting in self-help. Dr. Wenaston, her brother, was a very busy and sometimes overworked man. He did his best in Mrs. Hulver's opinion when he invited men to his house. His efforts, conscious or unconscious--Mrs. Hulver was not sure which--were not supported as they should have been by his sister. She made no attempt to attract in dress or manner. She was content to wear the same dinner-dress that served when she and her brother were alone; and she did not hesitate to allow Dr. Wenaston to absorb all the conversation if he chose, remaining silent through the dinner and perhaps through the whole evening as well. This was altogether a mistake, as Mrs. Hulver tried in vain to point out more than once. Eola listened in perfect good nature, but her replies were not encouraging, and the housekeeper was vaguely conscious that she was being kept in her place. She persevered however, and never lost an opportunity of putting in a word as far as she dared; but she always felt that there was a barrier that she might not pass. A certain Major Ellingham appeared at Chirapore on his way to a shooting expedition in the Western Ghats. He was entertained by Dr. Wenaston for a week while the camping preparations were made. Mrs. Hulver devoted her attention to the catering; and with the assistance of Ramachetty and the cook sent in such meals as elicited the guest's warm approval. In the evening as she sat in her wicker-chair by the open door of her sitting-room, she smiled as she heard the strains of the piano, and Ellingham's fine baritone in "Love's old sweet song," or some such melody. Nothing came of it, however; and the guest departed as heart-whole as he left Eola herself. Mrs. Hulver's even temperament was ruffled by a wave of annoyance as she thought of the enhanced bazaar account and all the trouble she had been put to in devising dainty cooking. One morning she ventured to suggest to Miss Wenaston that Major Ellingham would make a good husband. Eola agreed readily enough. "Probably he will pick up some nice girl by and by, when his head is less full of shooting big game," she said indifferently.