old Dermot in a long and chatty epistle all her
sensations and experiences in this new world. It was her first real letter
to him, although she had written him a few short notes from Malpura. It was
interesting and clever, without any attempt to be so, and Dermot was
surprised at the accuracy of her judgment of men and things and the
vividness of her descriptions. He noticed, moreover, that the social
gaieties of Darjeeling did not engross her. She enjoyed dancing, but the
many balls, At Homes, and other social functions did not attract her so
much as the riding and tennis, the sight-seeing, the glimpses of the
strange and varied races that fill the Darjeeling bazaar, and, above all,
the glories of the superb scenery where the ice-crowned monarch of all
mountains, Kinchinjunga, forty miles away--though not seeming five--and
twenty-nine thousand feet high, towers up above the white line of the
Eternal Snows.

Dermot was critically pleased with the letter. Few men--and he least of
all--care for an empty-headed doll whose only thoughts are of dress and
fashionable entertainments. He liked the girl for her love of sport and
action, for her intelligence, and the interest she took in the varied
native life around her. He was almost tempted to think that her letter
betrayed some desire for his companionship in Darjeeling, for in it she
constantly wondered what he would think of this, what he would say of that.

But he put the idea from him, though he smiled as he re-read his orders and
thought of her surprise when she saw him in Darjeeling. Would she really be
pleased to meet her friend of the jungle in the gay atmosphere of a
pleasure colony? Like most men who are not woman-hunters he set a very
modest value on himself and did not rate highly his power of attraction for
the opposite sex. Therefore, he thought it not unlikely that the girl might
consider him as a desirable enough acquaintance for the forest but a bore
in a ballroom. In this he was unjust to her.

He was surprised to discover that he looked forward with pleasure to seeing
her again, for women as a rule did not interest him. Noreen was the first
whom he had met that gave him the feeling of companionship, of comradeship,
that he experienced with most men. She was not more clever, more talented,
or better educated than most English girls are, but she had the capacity of
taking interest in many things outside the ordinary range of topics. Above
all, she inspired h