“The world and what it fears.”

Thus she hung hesitating while Mrs. Carruthers gathered in her hands her gloves and her fan.  There was a woman at the other end of the table however who would not stop talking.  She was in the midst of some story and heeded not the signals of her hostess.  Jane Repton wished she would go on talking for the rest of the evening, and recognised that the wish was a waste of time and grew flurried.  She had to make up her mind to say something which should be true or to lie.  Yet she was too staunch to betray the confidence of her friend unless the betrayal meant her friend’s salvation.  But just as the woman at the end of the table ceased to talk an inspiration came to her.  She would say nothing to Thresk, but if he had eyes to see she would place him where the view was good.

“I have this to say,” she answered in a low quick voice.  “Go yourself to Chitipur.  You sail on Friday, I think?  And to-day is Monday.  You can make the journey there and back quite easily in the time.”

“I can?” asked Thresk.

“Yes.  Travel by the night-mail up to Ajmere tomorrow night.  You will be in Chitipur on Wednesday afternoon.  That gives you twenty-four hours there, and you can still catch the steamer here on Friday.”

“You advise that?”

“Yes, I do,” said Mrs. Repton.

Mrs. Carruthers rose from the table and Jane Repton had no further word with Thresk that night.  In the drawing-room Mrs. Carruthers led him from woman to woman, allowing him ten minutes for each one.

“He might be Royalty or her pet Pekingese,” cried Mrs. Repton in exasperation.  For now that her blood had cooled she was not so sure that her advice had been good.  The habit of respect for authority resumed its ancient place in her.  She might be planting that night the seed of a very evil flower.  “Respectability” had seemed to her a magnificent poem as she sat at the dinner-table.  Here in the drawing-room she began to think that it was not for every-day use.  She wished a word now with Thresk, so that she might make light of the advice which she had given.  “I had no business to interfere,” she kept repeating to herself whilst she talked with her host.  “People get what they want if they want it enough, but they can’t control the price they have to pay.  Therefore it was no business of mine to interfere.”

But Thresk took his leave and gave her no chance for a private word.  She drove homewards a few minutes later with her husband; and as they descended the hill to the shore of Back Bay he said: 

“I had a moment’s conversation with Thresk after you had left the dining-room, and what do you think?”

“Tell me!”

“He asked me for a letter of introduction to Ballantyne at Chitipur.”

“But he knows Stella!” exclaimed Jane Repton.

“Does he?  He didn’t tell me that!  He simply said that he had time to see Chitipur before he sailed and asked for a line to the Resident.”