"No, only my ankle, nothing much."
"Ah, I see we must put a stopper on to this hunting of yours," declared Colonel Harris as he climbed the steps murmuring condolences, and with clanking sword, waddled over to where his lady-love sat, in a lop-sided cane chair.
"I will say good morning," called out Mallender, now mounting his horse. The sight of Barbie, and the mawkish solicitude of her admirer, was altogether too much for his equanimity. Towards unconscious Colonel Harris there arose in his mind a sudden fierce dislike and enmity, and with a comprehensive farewell he trotted out of the gate. All eyes followed him, including those of Mrs. Miller—who was peeping through the chick. She had hastily retired to take out the curling-pins, and put on her stockings.
A smart, soldier-like figure in his neat riding-kit, on his fine well-groomed New Zealander, a contrast, thought Barbie, to her elderly red-faced lover, who was still panting from the exertion of ascending the verandah.
At this juncture, the appearance of the Nizam created a diversion; the side-saddle was intact, also his knees; he was covered with sweat and foam, but appeared to be in buoyant spirits, as if he had thoroughly enjoyed himself!
Meanwhile Mrs. Miller followed her daughter into her bedroom—a low, bare apartment, overlooking the servants' go-downs, and sparsely furnished with a cot, a press, and a rickety dressing-table.
"Show me your foot?" she commanded. "Well, yes, it's swelled. You must bathe it, and send for arnica, it will be all right in a few days. Now listen to me, Barbie," she went on impressively, "you are not to bring young men here,—James doesn't like it."
"But I did not bring Captain Mallender, mother—he brought me."
"Nonsense, you ought to have got a gharry!"
"Not one to be had, in the paddy fields beyond Sydapet."