The subaltern gravely shook the proffered hand. The little girl scrambled to her fat little legs and finger in mouth, surveyed him solemnly. Then satisfied with her inspection she toddled forward to him and said:
"Tiss me."
Frank laughed joyously.
"With all my heart, you darling," he cried.
This delightful welcome in the dreaded place of exile was inexpressibly cheering. He swung the dainty mite up in his arms and kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him.
"Me like 'oo," she said.
"You little flirt, Eileen," exclaimed her mother laughing. "Now it's Badshah's turn."
She walked to the elephant, a splendid specimen of its race, though it had only one tusk, the right. She held out her hand to it. The long trunk shot out, brushed her fingers and then her cheek with a light touch that was almost a caress. She stroked the trunk affectionately.
"Now, Badshah, this is a new Sahib."
Frank, with the baby girl seated on his shoulder, stepped forward and extended his hand. The animal smelt it and then laid its trunk for a moment on his free shoulder.