feel someone should be with her. Mother will go
later, I know; but I must go at once."

Very reluctantly, Tommy turned his horse's head homeward, and lifting
his _topi_ in acknowledgment of her parting gesture, rode swiftly away
leaving her to continue her road to the Mission.

The settlement came into view beyond a straggling village which had
given the Mission its name, and was composed of bungalows grouped about
a wide "compound": chiefly schoolhouses of lath and plaster, with
innumerable sheds and outhouses for dormitories and technical
instruction. As Honor approached, she was conscious of a great stillness
broken only by the sound of intermittent blows of a hammer. When she
passed into the grounds through a gate in a neatly kept fence of split
bamboos, she saw through the open window of a shed, a carpenter busily
engaged on the grim task of preparing a coffin out of a deal
packing-case. In India burial follows on the heels of death with almost
indecent haste, and the sight of a rude coffin in the making, sent no
thrill of horror through the young girl. It was something to be expected
in a place where no professional assistance of that sort could be
reckoned upon in circumstances as sudden as these. Instead, a great
sadness came over her, and tears filled her eyes to overflowing, for it
was not so very long ago that Elsie Meek, a young girl like herself had
come out to India full of life and laughter, yearning to give her
energies scope, and trying for the sake of her gentle mother, to appear
contented with the meagre life afforded by her surroundings. Honor
suffered a pang of regret that she had not spared more time from her own
pleasures to help Elsie to a little happiness. She had so appreciated
visits from the Brights, and had been so keenly interested in the doings
of the Station people, with whom she was rarely allowed to associate.

What a futile life! Poor little Elsie Meek!

At the Mission bungalow where Honor dismounted, a group of missionaries
were sombrely discussing in whispers the necessary details connected
with the funeral. Mr. Meek sat apart, bowed with depression, his face
lined and haggard with grief. This was the man's world--Sombari
Settlement--the child of his creation; yet how hollow were his interests
and ambitions today!

Many years ago he had been financed by zealous Methodists and sent out
to India to establish a mission in rural Bengal. After careful search he
had chosen Sombari on