'"You scarcely compliment me in saying this," said she, colouring a little; "I was fond of gaiety, fun, what you will, when in Central India, and down at Calcutta, but here we have been _triste_ enough. Cabul is simply horrible!" '"And I wish, for your sake, and the sake of many others, that we were well out of it; but it was not of this everyday topic I desired to speak with you." '"Of what, then?" she asked in a low voice, though we had now reached the lower end of the outer drawing-room, where the windows were open to the floor, and gave access to a veranda filled with flowers, and the green jalousies enclosing which rendered it a species of corridor. 'My heart beat lightly, and I was on the point of saying something, I know not what--pretty pointed, however, when, in an evil moment, I drew forth her pocket-book, and said: '"Does not this belong to you, Miss Berriedale? your initials are gilded on the cover." '"It _is_ mine!" she exclaimed, while blushing deeply, and then growing deadly pale, as she remembered what she feared I might have seen, and more, perhaps, that I had not seen; "where did you find it?" she added with some sharpness of tone. '"Lying on the floor, yonder, in the other drawing-room." '"And how long have you had it?" she continued, with an increased hardness of tone which chilled me. '"But a few minutes; young ladies should be careful----" '"Of what?" she inquired haughtily. '"Miss Berriedale," said I, in agitated voice, and endeavouring to take her hand; but she eluded me, and even withdrew her arm, saying, "I must rejoin mamma." 'She rejoined the large group near the chandelier, with her whole manner and bearing totally changed, while I followed her completely crestfallen, with the eyes of Vassal Holland upon me, as if inquiring whether I _had_ put my fate to the issue, and what had come of it. 'A vague sense of having incurred her displeasure at the very moment when I was about to declare my passionate love for her, oppressed me; yet, when the time for departure came, and the carriages and palkees were announced, I hastened to cloak her, but she submitted in grim silence. '"Will you pardon me if I have offended you?" I whispered. '"I have nothing to pardon." '"Forgive me, then?" '"I have nothing to forgive." '"Good-night." '"Good-night, Mr. Clinton." 'She did not even take my hand, and we parted. '"What's up, old fellow?" asked Vassal Holland, as we strolled away to our bungalow in the lines. '"By Jove, I can't tell you." '"You've not made your innings, any way?" '"No," said I sadly and savagely; yet I could have enlightened him as to the situation, had I chosen, but unless I could have ensured his silence with regard to Bella, to do so might have made matters worse.