The rest of the morning was charged for them both with repressed emotion. They sat at the breakfast table outwardly composed, inwardly fearful of meeting each other's gaze. Stella's mental disturbance was increased by the conviction that Sher Singh was on the watch; he must have observed that she and Philip were engaged in no ordinary conversation when he surprised them on the balcony, must have noted her confusion as she passed him in her flight. Now she realised her folly in not having held her ground; she should have remained in her seat and given warning to Philip by speaking promptly to Sher Singh, since of course the man shared Champa's belief that a guilty understanding was afoot between herself and "Fer-lint sahib." No doubt it was he who, in the first place, had suggested the idea to Champa. Her fears in connection with Mrs. Antonio's warnings had dwindled during the days of Philip's visit, but now mental torment returned with the feeling that Sher Singh was but biding his time for mischief with the deadly patience of the Oriental. Dread lest he should lead Robert to scent the situation that had arisen between herself and Philip turned her sick.
Deeming it more prudent to avoid Philip for the immediate present, she sat in her room while Robert rested, her mind in confusion as she pretended to read. To ignore Philip's outpouring, to continue as if nothing disturbing had occurred, was clearly impossible. Philip must be warned; but how to contrive that warning without risk of being spied upon was a problem. Even could she accomplish it safely she shrank from facing the days to come with this secret between them. She contemplated appealing to Robert to allow her to take advantage of Mrs. Cuthell's invitation, on the score that she could endure the heat no longer; but should he refuse, as was more than probable, could Philip be induced to apply for leave, however short, on the plea of health? Something must be done, and without delay, that she might gain time to set her mind in order, free from continual trepidation. If only she could secure the chance of a long private talk with Philip....
Wearily she sat in the drawing-room before the tea-table that afternoon, awaiting the two men. Robert, when he went to his dressing-room, had said that if the courts were not too damp for tennis, and if Flint felt up to it, they might try a game. He was the first to appear, and evidently he was not in a good humour. Stella's heart sank at sight of his frown, but bounded next moment with relief when she heard the cause. It seemed that Sher Singh, as well as herself, desired "leave of absence."
"Confound the fellow," Robert grumbled, "he's just had a telegram, and says he must go off at once to see to the funeral of some near relation."
"How long does he want?"
"He says only two or three days, but with natives that may mean anything."
Stella trusted privately that in this case it might mean two or three weeks.
"He suggested that if Flint were staying on with us for the present his man could look after me for the time."
"But Mr. Flint has arranged to go back to the Rest House to-morrow——"
"Then he'd better alter his arrangements. He's no trouble, and it's far more comfortable for him here. Don't you want him to stay?"