hushed.

"The _shama_," Elizabeth said; "when I hear him I close my eyes and
picture the downs and oaked hills of England, and fancy I'm listening
to the nightingale or the lark."

Barlow turned involuntarily to look into the girl's face; it was an
inquisitive look, a wondering look; gentle sentiment coming from
Elizabeth was rather a reversal of form.

Also there was immediately a reversal of bird form, a shatterment of
sentiment, a rasping maddening note from somewhere in the dome of a
pipal tree. A Koel bird, as if in derision of the feathered songsters,
sent forth his shrill plaintive, "Koe-e-el, Koe-e-el, Ko-e-e-el!"

"Ah-a-a!" Barlow exclaimed in disgust--"that's India; the fever-bird,
the koel, harbinger of the hot-spell, of burning sun and stifling dust,
and throbbing head."

He cursed the koel, for the gentle mood had slipped from Elizabeth. He
had hoped that she would have spoken of yesterday, give him a shamed
solace for the hurt she had given him. Of course Hodson would have
told her all about the Gulab. But while that, the service, was
sufficient for the Resident, Elizabeth would consider the fact that
Barlow knew Bootea well enough to have this service rendered; it would
touch her caste--also her exacting nature.

Something like this was floating through his mind as he groped mentally
for an explanation of Elizabeth's attitude, the effect of which was
neutral; nothing to draw him toward her in a way of moral sustaining,