ful tradesman, she had persuaded herself that she was a person of very blue blood indeed, and that the Langleys of Wrenthain were something altogether out of the common. She had the pride of birth in its commonest English form. Naturally she thought it would be a terrible mésalliance for Guy to marry in India. She knew nothing of Helen Treveryan; and she rightly attached no importance at all to Guy's brief description of his lady-love. If she had given herself the trouble to analyse her own idea, she would have found that she pictured the girl to herself as a young person of questionable parentage, with bold black eyes and a shady character and vulgar manners, whom it would be impossible to present to her friends. She had been brought up, as most English women are brought up, to know nothing whatever of India. In her time she had seen an Indian crisis or two, when the British public had been suddenly fired with an intense interest in the country, and society had seized upon and made lions of any Indian officers who happened to be in the way -probably the wrong men. Then the excitement subsided, and well-bred England forgot India again as completely as if that wonderful empire had no existence. If Lady Mary thought of it at all, she thought of it as an unhealthy and immoral place, where some depraved white men loafed about in straw hats, beating Hindus and making them smoke opium; and where the women were no better than they should be. An Indian marriage was a thing that Guy must be rescued from at all costs.

Lady Mary's ignorance of India was but an example of the ignorance of Englishmen in general about the Colonial Empire. It is not wonderful that our colonies grow restive at times. It is rather wonderful that there is any loyalty left among them. Even now, though some men of mark have been able to look beyond party interests, and have tried to rouse the nation to a sense of its greatness and its responsibility, how many Englishmen in the old country know anything, or wish to know anything, of the vast England beyond the seas? With India perhaps a spirit of indifference does comparatively little harm. We are safe enough there. India is not a colony but a possession, and Englishmen in India must always remain Englishmen. They will always of necessity continue to fight for the English flag, though at times they may fight with sore hearts. Perhaps it is the better for them that they should work on in obscurity, far from the applause of their countrymen, cheered only by the sense of duty done. Even in India, however, there is one danger. Our

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own people will never be goaded into disloyalty. They are only a few thousands in number, and they are constantly recruited from England; but if we teach or permit the three hundred millions of Indians about them to look upon them with disrespect, if we weaken their hands and encourage all who oppose them, then sooner or later we shall have again to fight for empire. Remember the Mutiny, when your churches were full of black-robed sorrowing women, and realise in time that you cannot with impunity permit India to get out of control. The way to do so is to regard your countrymen in India as aliens, and to take for granted that they are always in the wrong. They are not aliens: they are your own kith and kin; and what they are doing you would do if you were in their place. They are English men and women, who have walked on board an English steamer at Dover or the London docks, and are in no way different from yourselves, except that they have seen something more than England and have learnt to face danger and responsibility.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE

GUY received his answer one hot evening towards the end of March. He had stayed at home, waiting for the English mail, instead of going to the Club; and was sitting in his long chair trying to read when his servant came in with the letters. Guy took them from him, and saw that they were what he was expecting. There was one from his father, and one from his mother.

He began with his mother's, and as he read it his heart sank. His first feeling was one of conviction and self-contempt. Why had he been such a fool as to rush into this impossible thing and make them despise him? He opened his father's letter, and a smile came into his eyes. He knew the history of that letter almost as well as if he had been present when Lady Mary sketched it out.

Then he read both letters again carefully, and as he did so a change of feeling came over him. After all, he had not been so very unreasonable, and their objections were at least open to argument. No doubt, if he married Helen they would not be rich, but so long as his father and Colonel Treveryan lived they would not be so very badly off; and Charles Langley had said nothing about what would happen after his death. Probably he would leave something to all his children. Altogether, though of course he was not surprised that his mother should be unwilling to see him marry a girl without money, yet it was what men did every day, and there was no other objection to his engagement. As he worked it out his depression gave way to resentment. They might have helped him if they had chosen.

Then a vision of poor Clara Schneider came before him, with her plain face and light eyelashes. 'I'm hanged if I'll do that anyhow,' he said to himself.

It was very hard and very embarrassing. Things would come right yet somehow; but he knew of old how terribly resolute his mother could be, and in any case, for the present at all events, he must confess to the Treveryans that he had met with a distinct refusal. It would not be an agreeable task. Guy did not admit to himself that he had the slightest thought of giving Helen up; on the other hand, he did not at once set aside Lady Mary's decision as regrettable but immaterial. He was fond of his mother, and accustomed to look up to her. He was not weak enough to submit without resistance; but he was not vehement enough, not old enough perhaps, to see his way clearly at once. His mind was full of trouble and doubt. No help was to be got from Dale. He had gone away for a couple of days' quail-shooting, and his room was empty.

The next day was Thursday, a holiday, and after a restless night Guy mounted his horse to go over to the Civil station. The mornings were still pleasant, and as Guy rode on through the cool fresh air he felt his spirits rising. They sank again when he reached the Treveryans' door, and realised that he had to break his news.

Colonel Treveryan had just returned from an early ride, to see a new bridge which was being built by the Public Works Department. He was sitting in the south verandah, still booted and spurred, smoking a long cheroot, and reading the official letters which had come by the morning dak. A pile of them lay on the table with his helmet and hunting crop. He sent out a salaam, and Guy came to him through the dining-room.

'Well, Langley,' he said cheerily, as he got up and shook hands, what is the news?'

Guy hesitated. 'Not very good, I'm afraid, sir.'

Colonel Treveryan looked grave. 'Have you heard from your people?'

'Yes. They-I am sorry to say they are not very encouraging. In fact I think perhaps you had better read what they say. I have got the letters here,' and he took them out of his pocket and held them out.

Colonel Treveryan read them slowly through and put them down on the table. After a moment's silence he looked up at Guy: 'You should have thought of all this before you said anything to us.'

'I wish I had, sir, but I had no idea there would be any objection. I am awfully cut up about it.'

Colonel Treveryan's soft heart was touched at once, and he answered not unkindly; but Helen's happiness was concerned, and his manner still conveyed disapproval. Guy was seized with an ardent desire to clear himself from any suspicion of weakness or fickleness, and he broke into earnest assurances. Nothing he said could ever make him change, and he felt certain his mother would come round in time. It was only a question of time. The warmth of his professions was increased by the silence of his hearer. Colonel Treveryan listened quietly, and was inclined to believe him; but he could not help feeling that Guy's assertions were rather vehement than steady. There was a ring of doubt and trouble running through them. It was not a tone of confident self-reliance. The boy means well,' he thought. 'I hope he really has good stuff in him. I hope Nellie has not made a mistake.' To Guy he said at last, 'Well, Langley, I don't quite know what I ought to do at present. I must see Helen and speak to you again.'

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'I hope I may see her too, sir.'

'Yes, if you wish it. Perhaps it will be just as well. You had better stay to breakfast and see her afterwards, and come over again to-morrow when we have thought it all out.'

Guy accepted the invitation, and he sat down in the drawingroom to wait for Helen while Colonel Treveryan was dressing. She had seen Guy ride up, and had got ready as quickly as she could. Guy had not been five minutes alone before she came in, as he had first seen her come, by the side door from her own rooms. This time, though she looked to him more beautiful than ever, he met her with an air of embarrassment which she perceived at once; and as she sat down the smile died out of her face. Then he began his confession.

Poor fellow, it was hard work. He had known that it would bring her unhappiness; but he had relied upon her love and sympathy and strength, and had not thought of her pride. It was wounded at once by his first hesitating words: 'I have heard from my mother. I am afraid I ought to have written to her before. She objects altogether.'

'Objects?'

'Yes; she says it is impossible. Of course,' he went on slowly, it makes no difference to me-you know that?'

Helen sat silent, her hands clasped in her lap. In her heart was rising a fiery indignation, mingled with a sense of intense disappointment. At best it was all at an end again, for the