"Mother has taken two passages in the Bibby Line for the first week in April," said Barbie Miller. "There is no money to pay for mine—if there were, it would make no difference. She says it's providential that Colonel Harris wishes to marry me, and considers me extraordinarily lucky."
"And what do you say, Barbie?"
"You know very well, Ada. I am still holding out, though the announcement of my engagement has been sent home. I'm afraid Colonel Harris has offered to pay for my trousseau, and I know that he has 'settled' quite a lot of things, including one or two big bills, and given mother a lovely diamond ring. Really, he is most generous; and if he did not want to marry me, I'd like him well enough! I overheard mother telling Mrs. Fiske that the wedding is to take place in the Cathedral early one morning, and we are to start immediately afterwards for the Shevaroy Hills. Honestly, I could not feel more wretched if I were going to be hanged—indeed, I don't think I'd mind!"
"I only wish I had your chance," declared her companion with energy, "I'd marry Colonel Harris like a shot!"
"Oh, Ada!" and Barbie stared incredulously.
"Yes, you don't know what it is to be alone in the world, and penniless," declared her friend forcibly; "he, at least, could give me a roof over my head, and a home. Your case is nothing as compared to mine; I am really in despair. I've not enough money to pay the dhoby, or put in the collection plate, or buy stamps. My clothes are so mended and so shabby I am ashamed to be seen. All the same, I don't think anyone but Mrs. Brander guesses that I am so absolutely destitute. Last time she was here she insisted on lending me a hundred rupees—such a boon!—she said she knew what little odds and ends a girl on her own wanted, and I was to pay her any time; and she gave me a lovely hat, because it did not suit her, and several pairs of gloves, because they were too small, and an evening-gown, because her husband could not bear it! For all her funny talk, she is a darling—just like Mrs. Tallboys."
"Does she not know that you are so hard up, Ada?"
"No, and I try to keep it from her. She has been only too kind; she paid my railway ticket down to Calicut, and sent an ayah with me. This is my second visit here, she invited me for a month, and I've stayed two. I feel such a worm, and so deadly ashamed. Mrs. Fiske enquired if I was living here altogether, and said 'this house should be called Hooper's Hotel.'"
"How horrid—and how like her!"
"I know that my room is wanted for Captain Mallender," continued Ada, "the ayah told me so. I've asked the Bells at Coimbatore to take me in, but they made an excuse. Now I've written to the Carsons at Trichy—they are my very last hope. I've no money, and nothing to sell. I sold the pretty frock Nancy Brander gave me—a sergeant's wife offered twenty-five rupees for it; the ayah took ten for commission, and I've told such stories about the gown to Nancy! But poor people have to lie! All I have left are three rupees. I'm so unhappy, so worn out with anxiety and shame, that I wish I were dead! I'd drown myself, only there is no place to do it in—the Cooum is filthy, and off the pier there are sharks!"