g sleek-coated ponies, to yellow-gowned lamas and Lepcha girls with
massive silver necklaces and turquoise ornaments. She longed to turn her
chair-coolies down the hill and begin at once the exploration of the
attractive-looking native bazaar--until she reached the English shops with
the newest fashions of female wear from London and Paris, set out behind
their plate-glass windows. Here she forgot the bazaar and would willingly
have lingered to look, but Ida's _dandy_ kept steadily alongside hers and
its occupant chattered incessantly of the many forth-coming social
gaieties, until they turned into the courtyard of their hotel and stepped
out of their chairs.

When Ida had shown her friend into the room reserved for her she said:

"Take off your hat, dear, and let me see how you look after all these
years. Why, you've grown into quite a pretty girl. What a nice colour your
hair is! Do you use anything for it? I don't remember its being as golden
as all that at school."

The girl laughed and shook the sunlit waves of it down, for it had got
untidy under her sun-hat.

"No, Ida darling, of course I don't use anything. The colour is quite
natural, I assure you. Have you forgotten you used sometimes to call me
Goldylocks at school?"

"Did I? I don't remember. I say, Noreen, you're a lucky girl to have made
such a hit straight away with Captain Charlesworth. He's quite the rage
with the women here."

"Is he? Why?" asked the girl carelessly, pinning up her hair.

"Why? My dear, he's the smartest man in a very smart regiment. Very well
off; has lots of money and a beautiful place at home, I believe. Comes from
an excellent family. And then he's so handsome. Don't you think so?"

"Yes; he's rather good-looking. But he struck me as being somewhat
foppish."

"Oh, he's always beautifully dressed, if that's what you mean. You saw
that, even when he had just come off a train journey. He's a beautiful
dancer. I'm so glad he asked me for a couple of dances at the L.G.'s ball.
I'll see he doesn't forget them. I'll keep him up to his word, though
Bertie won't like it. He's fearfully jealous of me, but I don't care."

"Bertie? Who is--? I thought that your husband's name was William?" said
Noreen wonderingly.

Ida burst into a peal of laughter.

"Good gracious, child! I'm not talking of my husband. Bill's hundreds of
miles away, thank goodness! I wouldn't mind if he were thousands. No; I'm
speaking of Captain Bain, a great f