As for Barbie, miles on a slippery saddle,—the uncomfortable attitude, and aching foot,—were agreeably discounted by a subtle sympathy which had arisen between her escort and herself.
As the same escort tramped through the soft red dust, he found himself unexpectedly confiding various matters to his charge. He gave her no evasive answers when she asked what had brought him to India; but frankly informed her that his visit was connected with a curious family business he was obliged to see through. "It has," he added, "to do with something that happened thirty years ago."
"It sounds romantic!"
"I suppose some would call it so," he answered, lamely.
"What does Colonel Freddy call it?"
"Madness!" was the curt reply.
"Madness!" echoed the girl, and she looked down at her companion with startled eyes.
"Yes," he replied doggedly. "If I were to tell you about it, you'd probably say the same! I confess that it sounds extraordinarily silly, yet I mean to stick to it."
"Then I wish you well through your task, and every success," she said gravely.
For a moment Mallender was conscious of an acute temptation to tell this little girl all about his quest—he assured himself that in her he would surely find a sympathetic confidante,—but on second thoughts he changed his mind, and merely said: