During the next fortnight the house was overrun by a horde of Christmas guests, who came from outlying forts and irrigation and telegraph stations to taste the joys of civilisation for three or four days, hurrying back like conscientious Cinderellas at a given moment, that the other man might have his turn. Mabel was immensely interested in these lads, who looked up to Dick with frank veneration, and sought for quiet talks with Georgia that they might tell her all their home news, and kept the house lively from early morning until their host reluctantly suggested that it was time for them to repair to their improvised bedrooms at night. Her interest did not go unrequited, for she had them all at her feet, regulating her favours so discreetly that none of them could complain that he was worse treated than his neighbour, and at the same time no one had undue cause for self-congratulation. “I know you think I shall lose my head, Georgie,” she said, on the evening of Christmas Day, when she and Georgia had left the men to their nightly smoke; “and I really believe I should if it lasted. These boys are all so splendid. Each of them is a hero in the ordinary course of his day’s work, but he never thinks of it, and no one out here thinks of it, and at home no one even knows their names. How is it that all the men out here are so nice? The women, as far as I have seen, are distinctly inferior.” “So sorry,” said Georgia humbly. “Perhaps we were born so.” “Goose! I didn’t mean you. I meant the ordinary Anglo-Indian woman. With so many delightful men about, she ought to be proportionately better than at home.” “Perhaps it’s just possible that the delightful men spoil her, Mab. What do you think?” Mabel laughed consciously, as she reclined in a long chair, with her arms behind her head. “You mean that I have deteriorated perceptibly already, I suppose? But that must be the men’s fault. If their admiration is the right kind, it ought to elevate me, surely? Now don’t say that I trade on their honest admiration to flatter my self-love. I’m sick of that sort of thing. Besides, it’s a pleasure to them to admire me, and I consider that it does them good. I am a liberal education for them.” “How nice it must be to feel that!” “Yes, and I really am awfully fond of them, every one. I should like them all to win to-morrow. I can’t bear the thought that only one or two of them can get prizes; I shall feel so unfair. Georgie, what are you going to wear? Oh--” she sat up suddenly, with eyes wide with horror, “what a wretch I am! Georgie, I never remembered your dresses when I was so busy getting my own. I haven’t brought you a single one.” “I guessed that some days ago,” said Georgia. “Oh, how wicked of me! Take one of mine, Georgie--any of them--even the muslin. I deserve it.” “I should look like a death’s head at a feast, indeed! Nonsense, Mab! I shall wear my red and white foulard.”