"Oh, one has to give the ornamental sex a little `law,'" said the other, good-humouredly. "Well, you can't expect them to put on their clothes and all that as quickly as we can," was the rejoinder to this accommodating speech. And just then "those women," in the shape of Mrs Tarleton and a guest, entered. The first was a good-humoured, pleasant-looking little Irishwoman, the second-- "How d'you do, Miss Clive? Why, this is a surprise," began Raynier, without waiting for an introduction. "I like surprises," laughed the hostess. "They're great fun. We thought we'd give you one, Mr Raynier." "They are, if, as now, they are pleasant ones," he answered. "Why, Mr Raynier, I didn't think that kind of speech-making was at all in your line," said the "Surprise," demurely. She was a tallish girl, rather slight, with refined and regular features, which nineteen out of twenty pronounced "cold." She had a great deal of dark brown hair, and very uncommon eyes; in fact, they were unequivocally and unmistakably green. Yet framed in their dark, abundant lashes, they might be capable of throwing as complete an attraction, a fascination, as the more regulation blue or hazel ones. She was not popular with men. Not enough "go" in her, they declared. Seemed more cut out for a blue-stocking. She and Raynier had been fellow-passengers out; but had had little to say to each other on board. He had danced with her three or four times, which was rather remarkable in view of that being a form of exercise which he favoured but little. Both had this in common, that they held aloof from the usual 'board-ship amusements, yet they had not come together at all. It was only when they landed at Bombay, and the friends she had expected to meet her had not arrived, that Raynier, noticing the look of intense consternation, of bewilderment even, upon the girl's face, as she realised how she was stranded, a total stranger in a very strange land, had come to the rescue--had even foregone his train and remained over until the next day to be of service to her. This he had done out of sheer kindness--the other passengers having gone their respective ways without giving her a thought--and having handed her over to her friends who had been unavoidably delayed, had bidden her good-bye and had gone his own--he, too, scarcely giving her another thought. "Hilda says you were so kind to her at Bombay, Mr Raynier," went on his hostess. "Oh, no--that's nothing, Mrs Tarleton. Glad to have been of any service, of course," he replied, in that hurried, half-confused way to be expected of a man of his disposition under the circumstances. "But it isn't nothing," struck in the girl, decidedly. "Do you know, Mrs Tarleton, Mr Raynier even waited till the next day to look after me. And it's odd, because we hardly knew each other on the ship."