“Oh no; there was Dick, you know. Poor dear Dick! he was disappointed about baby, of course; but a man doesn’t feel that sort of thing as a woman does. Besides, he was so glad I didn’t die too, that he really could not think of anything else.” “And you, Georgie?” “I can’t talk of it, Mab, even to you--how I longed to die. But he never knew it. And when I was better, I saw how wicked I had been. I would have lost anything rather than leave him alone.” “Well,” said Mabel, trying to speak lightly, “you have made acquaintance with realities, Georgie, at any rate; but I don’t know that I am very keen on following in your footsteps. I believe you have made me afraid of taking your advice. Marriage seems to involve experiences out here which one doesn’t get at home.” “It does,” agreed Georgia, “and I suppose they would be too much for some women. But when you love the country and the people as I do--and love your husband, of course--you would scarcely come out here with him if you didn’t--I think the life brings you nearer to each other than anything else could. It is such an absolute _solitude à deux_, you see, and you are so completely shut up to one another, that you seem really to become one, not just figuratively. It’s rather a terrible experiment to make, as you say, but if it succeeds--why, then it’s the very best thing in the world.” “I can’t quite fancy myself thinking of Mr Burgrave like that,” murmured Mabel reflectively. “Mab, I didn’t think----” “Oh, I beg your pardon, Georgie. If I didn’t laugh I should cry. And there’s Dick coming back, and he’ll see we have been crying. Talk about something else, quick!” “I was wondering whether you would like to pay a call or two,” said Georgia, thrusting a wet handkerchief hastily into her pocket. “I don’t want to drag you out if you are still tired after your journey, but it would be nice for you to get to know people before all the Christmas festivities begin next week.” “Of course!” Mabel’s sudden animation was not wholly assumed for Dick’s benefit as he rode past the verandah. “Who is there to call upon?” “Only your friend Mrs Hardy, whose husband is the missionary here, and acts as chaplain, and Flora Graham, the Colonel’s daughter, I am afraid. Nearly all the men are bachelors or grass-widowers at this station. Two or three ladies will come in from Rahmat-Ullah and the other outlying stations next week, but we are still scarce enough to be valuable.” “That’s a state of things of which I highly approve,” said Mabel. “Never knew a woman that didn’t,” said Dick, entering. “Ask Georgia if she doesn’t like to see the men round her chair, though she pretends to think they’re attracted by her professional reputation. But Miss Graham is coming to call on you, Mab. She’s dying to see you, but feared you would be too tired to pay visits this week. In gratitude for this honour, don’t you think you ought to refrain from exercising your fascinations on her young man?”