On the morning of that eventful 17th of March, Evelyn and Honor left the bungalow directly after breakfast, bent upon such shopping as Kohat could afford.
The nearest approach to shops, in the accepted sense of the word, were the open stalls in the native city. But there could be no question of exploring these; and the manifold needs of Western womanhood were inadequately met by the regimental go-downs attached to each corps in the cantonment. These consisted of spacious buildings, shelved from floor to ceiling, and stocked with a fine medley of human requirements, ranging from bone buttons to champagne, from quinine and chlorodyne to rolls of silk for evening gowns. A new consignment from "down-country" came up every month or so; and it was quite one of the events of life in Kohat to go the round of the go-downs as soon as possible after the arrival of these, so as to secure the pick of the market while the goods were fresh and the choice comparatively varied. Herein lay ample scope for those small spites and jealousies that are more than bread and meat to women of a certain type.
Evelyn had actually sent for gloves and shoes by this means, from a cheap Calcutta firm, instead of despatching an order to Simla regally regardless of cost. They by no means satisfied her fastidious taste; but she felt exalted to a superhuman pitch of virtue as she bore them home in her dandy.
"I don't believe Theo will like these shoes one bit!" she remarked with a satisfied laugh to Honor who rode beside her. "He will tell me to order the next ones from Simla straight away, and I shall be ever so dutiful and obey him without any fuss—shan't I, you grave, wise Honor?"
"I should be an inhuman monster if I could keep grave and wise in your company!" Honor answered, laughing back at her. "You will go on buying expensive shoes to the end of the chapter, if that's what you are driving at. Why have your spirits gone up with such a run this morning?"
"I don't know. It's nice enough that they are up. I got a lovely letter from Theo—that's partly why, perhaps." Her eyes softened at the remembrance of that letter. "He'll be home again in less than a fortnight."
"Yes; in less than a fortnight," Honor repeated, and wondered where she should go when that time arrived. She had not yet found courage to face the idea in detail.
Evelyn kept up an unbroken ripple of hilarity till the verandah was reached, laughing as Honor had not heard her laugh since Theo had left.
"You're 'fey,' child," she said, as she helped her out of the dandy. "I shall have you in floods of tears before night."