into the straggling station, whose name literally signifies the Tents of
Ishmael. But the day of tents had long since given place to the day of
spacious, square-shouldered bungalows, with pillared verandahs, set in
the midst of rambling compounds, where the ferasch and banana flourished
in dusty luxuriance, while orange, pomegranate, hybiscus, and
poinsettia,--to say nothing of marigolds and roses,--blazed regally in
the blossoming season with scarlet, and crimson gold. A bird's-eye view
of the station itself might have suggested to the imaginative eye a game
of noughts and crosses scratched on a Titanic slate:--a network of wide
white roads, unrelieved by curve or undulation; their rigidity emphasised
by equidistant lines of trees, and whitewashed gate-posts, innocent of
gates.

Into one of these openings three out of the five tongas finally clattered
and stood still; and a familiar brogue gave them greeting from the
verandah.

"Praise the Powers, ye've got here at last! We'd begun to think you
might be setting up house on a sandbank for the night!"

"We've had our fill of 'em without that, Frank," Desmond answered as he
sprang from his seat.

For the voice was the voice of Mrs Olliver, a rough-cut Irishwoman, whose
short reddish curls, and masculinity of speech and manner, cloaked the
woman's heart that glowed deep down in her,--a jewel crusted with common
clay. Beside her stood Max Richardson, and Colonel Meredith--a big,
broad-shouldered man, extraordinarily like his sister in face and
temperament--who cleared the steps like any subaltern, lifted Honor out
of the tonga, and kissed her on both cheeks.

"You've no earthly business to be here, you know," he reprimanded her by
way of greeting. "I'll tell Theo what I think of him, when I get him
alone!"

"No, please, John, you mustn't," she entreated in a low tone. "He did
his best to prevent me. But I meant to come . . . and I came!"

"I thought as much, when I got his wire!" Then, still keeping hold of
her, he shook hands with Desmond. "Mighty glad to get you back, Theo:
and to see you looking so fit. You'll find your work cut out, I promise
you."

"So much the better. Any cases?"

"Not yet, thank God. We must steer clear of camp, if the thing can be
done. But the fever's bad enough. They're dropping like flies in the
city, poor devils. Our hospital's crammed; and two 'subs' on the
sick-list at well as Wyndham. He's going on all right now; bu