ilently to and fro on it, of the children
playing about on the hot deck, and of some young officers' wives who
used to try to make her talk to them and laugh at the things she said.

Principally, she was thinking of what a queer thing it was that at one
time one was in India in the blazing sun, and then in the middle of the
ocean, and then driving in a strange vehicle through strange streets
where the day was as dark as the night. She found this so puzzling
that she moved closer to her father.

"Papa," she said in a low, mysterious little voice which was almost a
whisper, "papa."

"What is it, darling?" Captain Crewe answered, holding her closer and
looking down into her face. "What is Sara thinking of?"

"Is this the place?" Sara whispered, cuddling still closer to him. "Is
it, papa?"

"Yes, little Sara, it is. We have reached it at last." And though she
was only seven years old, she knew that he felt sad when he said it.

It seemed to her many years since he had begun to prepare her mind for
"the place," as she always called it. Her mother had died when she was
born, so she had never known or missed her. Her young, handsome, rich,
petting father seemed to be the only relation she had in the world.
They had always played together and been fond of each other. She only
knew he was rich because she had heard people say so when they thought
she was not listening, and she had also heard them say that when she
grew up she would be rich, too. She did not know all that being rich
meant. She had always lived in a beautiful bungalow, and had been used
to seeing many servants who made salaams to her and called her "Missee
Sahib," and gave her her own way in everything. She had had toys and
pets and an ayah who worshipped her, and she had gradually learned that
people who were rich had these things. That, however, was all she knew
about it.

During her short life only one thing had troubled her, and that thing
was "the place" she was to be taken to some day. The climate of India
was very bad for children, and as soon as possible they were sent away
from it--generally to England and to school. She had seen other
children go away, and had heard their fathers and mothers talk about
the letters they received from them. She had known that she would be
obliged to go also, and though sometimes her father's stories of the
voyage and the new country had attracted her, she had been troubled by
the thought that he could