under the trees and exchanged the usual commonplace observations. Tea
and cakes were served under a canopy tent and the local orchestra
struggled with pagan music.

Kalora found herself in a wide and easy kind of a basket-chair sitting
under a tree and chatting with Mrs. Plumston. She was trying to be at
her ease, and all the time she knew that every young man present was
staring at her out of the corner of his eye.

Mrs. Plumston, although very tall and evidently of brawny strength, had
a twittering little voice and a most confiding manner. She was immensely
interested in the daughter of the Governor-General. To meet a young girl
who had spent her life within the mysterious shadows of an oriental
household gave her a tingling interest, the same as reading a forbidden
book. She readily won the confidence of Kalora, and Kalora, being most
ingenuous and not educated to the wiles of the drawing-room, spoke her
thoughts with the utmost candor.

"I like you," she said to Mrs. Plumston, "and, oh, how I envy you! You
go to balls and dinners and the theater, don't you?"

"Alas, yes, and you escape them! How I envy _you_!"

"Your husband is a very handsome man. Do you love him?"

"I tolerate him."

"Does he ever scold you for being thin?"

"Does he _what_?"