Hitherto, she declared, she had felt like a flower that was withering for the lack of sun; now Sophy supplied the sunshine. Sophy was endowed with a personality that inspired happiness, and looked on the world as the abode of joy. And so at last pretty Miss Leigh tasted the delights of the Gymkhana Club, and took part in tennis, golf and dancing. There were boating parties on the Royal lakes and picnics in the woods. She made many acquaintances and had quite “a waiting list” of partners. Sometimes of a morning, but much more frequently of an evening, after tennis or boating, Mrs. Krauss would drive down to Phayre Street. There the shops were on the best European lines, and exhibited all the latest articles from London, Paris, or Berlin, tempting rupees out of people’s pockets. Mrs. Krauss was a liberal purchaser, whether of European stores, fancy goods, drapery, or jewellery; this generous aunt presented Sophy with a pair of heavy gold bangles, a string of pearls and an exquisite fan and kimono. These latter were found at an Indian repository owned by a well-known Bengali, with a large clientèle (Burmese themselves are too indolent to make successful shopkeepers—they much prefer to look on, and laugh, and bargain). In this and other emporiums of the same class were to be found rare embroideries, ivory carvings, eggshell china, Oriental draperies, jade, and piles of Chinese and Japanese silks of the most exquisite fabric and colour. Sophy liked to wander round, to marvel and admire, but soon discovered that to do the latter was to be immediately endowed with her fancy—be it an enormous Chinese jar, or a lacquered cabinet, or a mere silver bowl. Mrs. Krauss firmly resisted every denial and excuse. “My dear,” she would protest, “do not refuse me; mine is the pleasure. I don’t know how to spend all my money, and never until now have I had a girl to whom I could offer presents—and to _give_ is such a joy. I am a rich woman, with no belongings except you and yours. Certainly, I don’t deny that this big gong” (the present in question) “is rather a clumsy affair, but it is old and a beauty. What a deep, rich, melancholy tone! When struck it seems to tell of some sad, sad story that happened hundreds of years ago. After you are married, dear child, it will be so useful in your hall.”