Evelyn was on her feet at once—the Kresneys forgotten as though they were not.
"It must be my new dress for the General's garden-party. How lovely!"
"Another dress? Your almirah's choked with them already."
"Those are only what I got at Simla last year."
"You seem to have gone in rather extensively for dresses last year," Honor remarked, a trifle critically. Since their arrival in Murree she had become better acquainted with the details of Evelyn's wardrobe; and the knowledge had troubled her not a little. "How about your trousseau?"
"Mother gave me hardly any dresses. She said I wouldn't need them on the Frontier. But I must have decent clothes, even in the wilderness."
"Yes, I suppose so. Still you will find continual dresses from Simla a terrible drain on a limited allowance."
A delicate flush crept into Evelyn's cheeks, and her eyes had an odd glitter that came to them when she felt herself hard-pressed, yet did not intend to give in.
"What do you know about my allowance?"