He marked with pleasure the intimacy that existed between this man and his sister.  Like Stella, though in a different sense, he had grown imperceptibly to look upon him as a safeguard.  He was a sure antidote to nervous forebodings.  The advent of the baby also gave him keen delight.  Tommy was a lover of all things youthful.  He declared he had never felt so much at home in India before.

Peter also was almost as much in the baby’s company as was its ayah.  The administration of the bottle was Peter’s proudest privilege, and he would walk soft-footed to and fro for any length of time carrying the infant in his arms.  Stella was always content when the baby was in his charge.  Her confidence in Peter’s devotion was unbounded.  The child was not very strong and needed great care.  The care Peter lavished upon it was as tender as her own.  There was something of a feud between him and the ayah, but no trace of this was ever apparent in her presence.  As for the baby, he seemed to love Peter better than any one else, and was generally at his best when in his arms.

The Green Bungalow became a favourite meeting-place with the ladies of the station, somewhat, to Stella’s dismay.  Lady Harriet swept in at all hours to hold inspections of the infant’s progress and give advice, and everyone who had ever had a baby seemed to have some fresh warning or word of instruction to bestow.

They were all very kind to her.  She received many invitations to tea, and smiled over her sudden popularity.  But—­it dawned upon her when, she had been about three weeks in the station—­no one but the Ralstons seemed to think of asking her and her husband to dine.  She thought but little of the omission at first.  Evening entertainments held but slight attraction for her, but as time went on and Christmas festivities drew near, she could not avoid noticing that practically every invitation she received was worded in so strictly personal a fashion that there could be no doubt that Everard was not included in it.  Bernard was often asked separately, but he generally refused on the score of the evening being his best working time.

Also, after a while, she could not fail to notice that Tommy was no longer at his ease in Everard’s presence.  The old careless camaraderie between them was gone, and she missed it at first vaguely, later with an uneasiness that she could not stifle.  There was something in Tommy’s attitude towards his friend that hurt her.  She knew by instinct that the boy was not happy.  She wondered at first if there could be some quarrel between them, but decided in face of Everard’s unvarying kindness to Tommy that this could not be.

Another thing struck her as time went on.  Everard always checked all talk of his prospects.  He was so repressive on the subject that she could not possibly pursue it, and she came at last to conclude that his hope of preferment had vanished like a mirage in the desert.