"I shall be only too pleased," she said. "What I have seen has made me
thirst for more."
"Indeed, Your Highness," Mrs. Cary broke in eagerly. "I must not forget to
thank you for the really very kind assistance you lent my reckless
daughter the other day. I do not know what would have happened to her if
it had not been for you!"
Nehal Singh looked at her with a grave wonder.
"You are her mother--?" he said, and then stopped short. The wonder was
reflected so clearly in his tone that an angry flush mounted to Mrs.
Cary's fat cheeks.
"I have that honor, Your Highness," she said acidly.
"Mrs. Cary!" Travers called from the flower-bed over which he was leaning.
"If the Rajah Sahib can spare you, do come and look at these flowers. They
are extraordinary."
With her head in the air, her plumes waving, a picture of ruffled dignity,
Mrs. Cary swayed her way in the direction indicated, and Nehal Singh and
Beatrice found themselves alone.
"Will you come with me now?" he asked. "I have still so much to show you."
She saw the look of self-satisfied "I-told-you-so" horror written on the
faces of Mrs. Berry and her friends, who stood a little farther off
whispering and nodding, and if she had felt the slightest hesitation, she
hesitated no longer.
"Lead the way, Rajah Sahib," she said coolly. "I follow."
CHAPTER VIII
THE IDEAL
On either side of them tall palm-trees raised their splendid heads high
above the shrubs and sweet-smelling plants that clustered like a
protecting wall about their feet, and as Beatrice and her companion passed
a sharp bend it seemed as though they had been suddenly cut off from the
chattering crowd behind them and had entered into a wonderful, silent
world in which they were alone.
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