It happened that the Tarletons had no portrait of Hilda Clive, but on the subject of the latter's attractions Cynthia was in a great measure reassured. When, apparently in pursuance of a natural interest in the missing girl, she inquired on the point, the answer was never more enthusiastic than "Oh, so-so," with a sort of covert implication that she was not in it with the inquirer herself. For Hilda had made no impression upon the male side of the station, to whom she conveyed an idea of coldness and reserve even when not, as Haslam put it, one of uncanniness. So Cynthia was reassured, and managed to get through time fairly contentedly; and while ever manifesting a becoming degree of anxiety on behalf of her _fiance_--as she gave him out to be--on the whole the station regarded her as a decided acquisition. And then Hilda Clive had reappeared, alone. Among the first to visit her was naturally Cynthia, and the consequent reassurance as to Raynier's temporary safety hardly rejoiced her so much as the first glance at his fellow refugee. Why, the girl was downright plain--if not hideous, she decided. She had green eyes, to begin with; large and well-lashed certainly, but--green; green and uncanny, like a cat's. Then, she was white and haggard looking. As for her dress, Cynthia could not judge, for Hilda had only agreed to see her under protest and had appeared in a tea-gown; for she was suffering from lassitude and nervous reaction, following upon physical hardship and the immense mental strain she had undergone. Small wonder indeed if she were not looking her best. Wherefore, Cynthia decided that here was no possibility of rivalry, and having so decided she set to work to make the best of the situation. Mazaran was practically in a state of siege, yet a matter of twenty-four hours sufficed to accustom its social side to that state of things; and, if it was unsafe to venture beyond the lines, the social side aforesaid took care to amuse itself to the best of its ability within them. And here Cynthia Daintree was in great request. She was a novelty, she was stylish and well dressed, and well looking. She kept up a certain modicum of carefully regulated concern for her missing fiance, but she allowed herself to be drawn, albeit under protest into all that went on. The general consensus of opinion was--especially among the garrison-- that the missing Raynier was a deuced lucky fellow, but why the mischief had he kept his engagement so dark? Not quite all, however, were so minded. Haslam, the Forest Officer, for instance, was not so sure on the point; possibly, because Cynthia had not thought it worth while laying herself out to captivate him, possibly not. Anyway, he remarked at the Tarletons' one day,-- "I wonder if Raynier will weep for joy when he gets back or not?" "Why, what do you mean, Mr Haslam?" said his hostess. "Nothing. Only that I shouldn't like to be in his shoes."