As Noreen was borne along in her dandy she thought that she had never seen a more delightful spot.  Everything and everyone attracted her attention—­the scenery, the buildings, the varied folk that passed her on the road, from well set-up British soldiers in red coats and white helmets, smartly-dressed ladies in rickshas, Englishmen in breeches and gaiters riding 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 friend of mine from the Bombay side.  He’s stationed in Poona, which is quite a jolly place in the Season, though of course not a patch on this.  But he got leave and came here because I did.”