he should be murdered and killed; but it is the will of God. What can we do? If it pleases Almighty God to afflict His fellow-creatures, we poor mortals can do nothing. It is impossible.'

Helen winced under the good old man's sympathy, but she thanked him and wished him good-bye; and then, as he stood on the steps and suddenly doubled up again, she leant back and burst into a flood of hysterical tears and laughter.

Rex whined uneasily and pushed his head into her lap. After a time his distress forced itself upon her attention. She stroked his head gently, and her sobs grew quieter. 'It is all over,' she thought. I shall never see the dear old place again-never, never, never!'

That night she was less miserable. The bitterness of parting

was over.

The Bombay mail train did not leave Syntia till five o'clock the next evening, and Helen had written to Hugh Dale, asking him to come and see her after breakfast. He had seen her several times since Guy's death, and his boyish sympathy had been very touching. When he came up this last morning Helen said to him I wanted to see you before I went, to thank you for all your kindness, and to say good-bye. You will come and see me and your godson whenever you come home?'

'You may be very sure of that, Mrs. Langley. You know I -cared for Guy more than for any one in the world; and I think it was awfully good of you to ask me to be godfather to your boy. I shall never forget it.'

'You were his greatest friend. I know he would have asked you.'

They spoke a little about her voyage, and Chimp said: 'I am so sorry for you, going on that long voyage all alone.'

'Oh, it won't be very bad. I am a good sailor, and know how to look after myself.'

'Must you take that horrid little wretch with you?'

"Georgie Beamish? Poor little fellow! he would have had to go all alone. I don't look forward to it in some ways, but he is generally good with me, and it would have been unkind not to take him. He would have been so miserable by himself.'

'I hate your doing it. Would you give it up if any one else were to offer to take him?'

เ It's too late now. Besides, no one is likely to offer.'

'I expect some one would turn up.'

'Do you? Who is there going home?'

'Well, I daresay you'll laugh, but I am thinking of going myself soon on three months' leave, and I'll take the little beggar if you will let me.'

Helen did laugh, though she felt almost as much inclined to cry. She knew Chimp would have done the thing loyally, and probably done it very well, but the child would have thought he was being handed over to the Evil One. 'No, no,' she said at last; I know you mean it, and it is very, very good of you, but I have promised Mrs. Beamish, and I must do it. It won't be any great trouble really. I'm taking as my servant the ayah who has always been with him, and they are fond of one another.'

'Well, I won't say any more. But I mean it really.'

'I know you do, Mr. Dale, and I am very grateful; but you must let me take him.'

Then she told Chimp that she wanted him to do her a favour, to accept Sultan from her and keep him. Chimp had meant to buy the horse after she left, but he could not refuse.

'It will be such a pleasure to me,' she said, 'to know you have him; but will you promise me one thing? If you have no further use for him you will not sell him? Find a really kind master for him, or shoot him, but don't sell him to any one. And you will be very gentle with him, won't you?'

Chimp promised, and the horse was sent for. Helen went out to the porch when Chimp left, and Sultan was standing ready. I want him to go with you now,' she said. 'Let me feel he is safe under your care before I leave.'

Rex had gone down to greet his old playfellow, who made a snap at him. Sultan always pretended to have an objection to dogs, as became an Arab. When he heard Helen's voice he whinnied. She went down and gave him a piece of sugar, and patted his smooth skin for the last time; and he rubbed his tan muzzle against her shoulder. 'Good-bye!' she said, with her head against his cheek. Thank you for many, many happy days. I shall never have such happy days again. Good-bye, dear,' and she kissed him and went back into the house.

In the evening the Aylmers and Dale saw her off from the railway station, and as the train moved she saw at the end of the platform several of Guy's old brother officers and Mrs. Dangerfield.

She had still to pass the Civil Station and to meet her charge; for a few minutes she felt anxious lest she might not find him. It would be just like Mrs. Beamish to be late, and then Helen

would be left not only without the boy, but without a servant. They could not catch her up before the steamer went off. However, when the train drew up there was Mrs. Beamish, poor woman, with the tears pouring down her face, and the Limb as dirty and untidy as ever, and the ayah, and Dr. Beamish himself, and the Hunters. The Limb's only luggage was an oval tin bath with a lid to it. The lock was broken, and the bath was tied

round with cord.

Helen said good-bye to the Hunters, and the poor Beamishes said good-bye to their boy, and the train moved off.

The boy cheered up very quickly. Helen had taken the precaution of bringing with her a book of pictures belonging to Mabs, and a box of chocolate; and she gave him a piece, which consoled him immediately. Then she sat down and looked out of the window. She wanted to see the racecourse as they went past. It very nearly upset her again. Everything was so exactly as it used to be when her father and she used to ride round in the evening,-so still and quiet, with the palms in the centre, and their long shadows across the dry short grass. She remembered, as Guy had done, how his horse had plunged at the corner, and how Sultan had bounded off and galloped. It was gone,-the last bit of the dear place-gone for ever; and as she looked out upon the flying country the tears came to her eyes again, and one or two fell.

She was brought to herself by feeling a small hand laid upon her knee, and looked round to find the boy gazing at her with a troubled expression in his face. 'I say,—don't cry.'

'No; it's very silly of me, isn't it? Shall I tell you about the pictures?'

The boy looked doubtful. 'I say, look here. I want to show you something. You are awfully fond of pets, aren't you?' 'Yes, dear.'

'Well, look here. Father said I wasn't to take it, but I knew you wouldn't mind, so I just brought it in my handkerchief; but I had to leave its cage behind.' As he spoke, the boy produced from his trouser-pocket a handkerchief that was almost black with dirt, and unwrapped it carefully. In the centre was a small white rat with a pink nose, which smelt unpleasant.

'Oh, Georgie! you oughtn't to have brought it if your father told you not to.'

'Oh! he didn't mind really. It was only because he thought you would not like it. But you do, don't you? It's awfully

pretty, isn't it? And it is quite tame,―runs all round my neck, and feeds out of my hand.'

Rex, who had been brought into the long Indian carriage, was looking on in contemptuous disgust, and Helen found it difficult to be enthusiastic. However, the only way was to make the best of it. Poor little thing,' she said; it looks very frightened. Where did you get it?'

'The bearer gave it me. There were a lot of them, and he gave me three, but the others died. What a pity, wasn't it?' 'Yes, dear, a dreadful pity. Never mind, we've got one left. Where are you going to keep it? It can't live in your pocket.' 'Oh yes. I often keep it there for ever so long.'

Look

'I don't think that is a very nice place for it, Georgie. here, suppose we make it a house. I think I know what will do.' She went to the hamper and produced a biscuit-tin. 'There, —we can wrap up the biscuits in paper, and give him the tin.'

Georgie was deeply interested, and they spent a satisfactory half-hour in fitting up 'Moti's' new home. There were holes in the lid to give him air, and some cotton wool for his bed, and some bread and milk in a saucer. It was a quite a success. After that it was time to give Georgie some supper, and then he was put to bed in one of the top bunks; and altogether Helen found that the child had made her first evening less dreary than it would have been; and he really was as good as possible.

CHAPTER XXXIX

GOING 'HOME'

It was not so bad a voyage as Helen had expected. The railway journey was not very hot, and they got to Bombay without serious trouble. The baby slept almost all the way, and the Limb was quite a model child. He ate voraciously, finding the food at the refreshment-rooms most delicious; and he occasionally tried to lose himself in the crowd on the platform, but Helen was on the look-out, and kept him from straying far.

He took to washing himself with ardour. He had not been more than locally dirty at any time. India is the cleanest country in the world, and its cleanliness is gradually extending to the whole of the English race, which washes itself more than any other race, but does not wash itself as much as it ought to do.1 Bathing is so pleasant in India that, as a rule, even boys are substantially clean. But now Helen had explained to the Limb the advantages of having decent hands, and had presented him with a tooth-brush, which she found he did not possess, and a little of her tooth-powder, and the Limb seized upon the idea as a charming novelty. In fact, it became rather a nuisance. wanted to brush his teeth a dozen times a day, and then he came and stood in front of her, and grinned like a dog, and demanded examination and praise. He also borrowed her nail-scissors to scrape his nails. Finally his rage for purity led him to put his white rat in the only basin in the bath-room, and to soap it thoroughly with a piece of Helen's best soap. He was absent a long time, and came back in triumph, having dried the shivering creature in her towel. However, he was very good, and gave little or no trouble.

He

1 Besides the morning tub, England owes to India another blessed institution, the morning tea. Some day it may be hoped that she will take from India a greater blessing than either, cremation.