"Well, my chicken, you've had a busy afternoon."
"A beastly afternoon, Nick!" she responded warmly. "And I'm very glad it's over, and I don't want to talk about it. Tell me about your doings instead! What were you wanted for?"
"Prepare for a shock!" said Nick. "I haven't got over it myself yet. They want to pack me off to India again. I told 'em I couldn't go, but they seem to take it for granted that I shall. Don't know what Muriel will say to it, I'm sure. They say it would be only a six months' job, but I have my doubts of that."
"Nick! India!"
"India, my child—naked and unadulterated India! The Imperial Commissioners have quite decided that I'm the man for the job. I kept on saying 'Can't!' and 'Won't!' But that didn't make the least difference. Old Reggie Bassett's doing, I'll lay a wager. He will have it that my genius is thrown away in England. And they inform me rather brutally that my seat in Parliament would be far more easily filled than this Sharapura post. Also the young Rajah has done me the honour to ask for me. We went pig-sticking together once—years ago, and I chanced to head off Piggie at a critical moment for young Akbar. On the strength of that, he wants me to go and be his political adviser for a few months. It seems the State is in rather a muddle. His father was a shocking old shuffler, and there are plenty of budmashes about, if report says true. But this young Rajah is anxious to get things straightened out, and the Commissioner wants a report made and so on. Altogether," Nick paused with a smile on his yellow face, "they were very persuasive," he said.
"Nick! You're going!" Olga exclaimed.
He laughed. "If you want my impartial opinion as to that," he said, "I believe I am."
She drew a deep breath. Her eyes were shining. "Oh, how I wish I were a man! I'd come with you."
"Ladies are admitted," said Nick.
"Ah! I wonder what Muriel will say," she said. "Does she like India?"