“That’s because she likes you. She hates me, and would rejoice to make my life a burden to me. The idea of hinting that I would betray Dick’s secrets to Mr Burgrave! Wasn’t it infamous? But who is Bahram Khan?” “He is the Amir of Nalapur’s nephew, and was intended to succeed to the throne, but in order to expedite matters he tried to poison both his uncle and Dick’s predecessor here, who had been obliged to scold him for some of his doings. The matter could not be absolutely proved against him, but he thought it well to take refuge in Ethiopia, and has stayed there ever since. To guard against his returning, Dick advised the Amir to adopt another nephew, Bahadar Shah, as his successor, and he did. Bahram Khan is only about twenty-three now, but he married an Ethiopian lady of rank four years ago. His poor old mother, who is one of my Nalapur patients, was very sore at his arranging it without consulting her. She remained at her brother’s court when her son escaped, for it was she who saved the lives of the Amir and Sir Henry Gaunt. She suspected her son’s intentions, and tasted the food prepared for the banquet he was going to give. It made her very ill, but she gave the warning, and I was sent for post-haste from Iskandarbagh in time to save her life. She is a dear, grateful old thing.” “But do you think Mr Burgrave will let Bahram Khan come back?” “Oh no, it’s impossible. But I wish,” added Georgia thoughtfully, “that I hadn’t been so emphatic in denying it to Mrs Hardy. If anything happens now, she will know that Dick and the Commissioner are not in accord.” “But why shouldn’t she know?” “Because out here we learn to stick together. Quarrel in private as much as you like, but present a united front to the foe,” said Georgia sententiously, as she pulled up before her own verandah. Two horses, in charge of native grooms, were waiting at the door. “Our visitors have arrived before us,” said Mabel, and they hurried into the drawing-room, to find an elderly man of soldierly appearance and a tall yellow-haired girl waiting patiently for them. “I’m afraid you will think us very rude for thrusting ourselves upon you so soon, and at this time of day,” said Miss Graham, addressing herself to Mabel, after Georgia had apologised for their absence, “but my father happened to have time to come with me just now, and I was so very anxious to see you----” “How sweet of you!” murmured Mabel softly, as the visitor stopped abruptly. “Because I want to ask you a favour,” finished Miss Graham. Her father laughed, and Mabel looked politely interested. “I want you to be Queen of the Tournament next week instead of me.” “Oh, Georgie!” cried Mabel; “and you said that life out here was modern and unromantic! Why, here we are plunged into the Middle Ages at once.”