The Lamp in the Desert

e of the languorous Eastern charm that had so haunted the forbidden paradise. Bhulwana was a cheerful place, and though perched fairly high among the hills of Markestan it was possible

ill, and the bungalows that clustered among the pines below it looked as if

gly little place, and the small compound surrounding it was a veritable wilderness. It had been named "The Grand Stand" owing to its position, but no one less racy th

to the Rajah's residence. Great care had been expended upon it. Her heart had yearned to the girl ever since she had heard o

on. And, swayed by Tommy's influence, and, it might be, touched by Mrs. Ralston's own earnest solicitude, Stella, not caring greatly whither she went, had agreed to take up her abode for a time at least with the surgeon's wife. There was no ne

finite order. Mrs. Ralston with her faded prettiness and gentle, retiring ways did not possess a very arresting personality. No one seeing her two or three times could have given any very accurate descr

dness on her wedding-day, and something within her, notwithstanding her utter weariness, longed to feel that warmth a

le with the best intentions. She could not have opened her heart to him had she tried. She was unspeakably glad to have him with her, and later on she hoped to join him again at The Green Bungalow down at Kurrumpore where they had

d now at the thought that they had ever seriously affected her. She was changed, greatly changed. In one short month she had left her girlhood behind her. Her proud shyness had utterly departed. She had returned a grave, reserved wom

uth had utterly passed away. White and cold as alabaster, a woman empty and alone, she returned from the forbidden paradise, and i

uried deep, very far from the reach of all casual investigation. She could not speak of her tragedy, but she responded to the mute sympathy Mrs. Ralston poured out to

n her to herself for comfort. It was true that nearly all her friends had been made in trouble which she had sought to alleviat

e very seriously of his sister's state and begged Mrs. Ralston to do her ut

ople who didn't know would think her heartless. I can

atient," Mrs.

ut she did not encourage him to further confidence. It was not he

ithout realizing that sh

e in. I ought to have asked him, but I never had the chance; and everything was done in such a mighty hurry. I don't sup

nck know anything?"

t seen him since Dacre's death. I daresay he doesn't even know of that yet. He had to go Home.

c business altogether. But let us be thankful we have dear Stella safely back

of discontent over things in general. He had had no word from Monck th

white-clad figure that rose up swiftly and noiselessly on the instant and resolved itself into the s

er with a touch of wistfulness. "She sle

or?" queried Mrs. Ralsto

fied courtesy. "That is my privileg

lly, and made way

eard a low voice speak in a

is I, my dear. Are you in bed? M

e instant reply. "How g

e upon the pillow was in deep shadow. Her hair sprea

t startle you," she said. "The dear fellow is so upset that I don't want an ayah, he is d

n her warm way and kissed the pale, still face. "

hostess gently down to sit on the side of the bed. "I

. Not many were the compliments that came her way

s in Kashmir. The days and nights all seemed part of one long dream." A slight shudder assailed her; she repressed it with a shadowy smile

Ralston's eyes; she stroked S

hear of it, though he tells me that you stayed there through last summer. If y

motive. But you are different. You would never stand a hot season at Kurrumpore. I can't tell you what it is like there. At its worst it is unspeakable. I am very glad

em to matter much what I do," she said. "Tommy certainly doesn't nee

ringly. "Never think that for a moment! From the very first d

ed Stella's face. "How ve

ful," murmured the surgeon's wife. "And I knew that yo

t think it! You don't know me in the least. You-you have far

ton shook

denied everything. I have been cast out like Eve, but without Eve's compensations. If I had been given a child to love, I might

ong. We can make of our lives what we will. Believe me, the barren woman can

She turned her face aside. "Li

wever favourable. But if we only press on, it does get simpler, and the way opens out before us as we go. I have learnt that at least from life." She paused a mo

he murmured back, clasping closely the thi

st for that. Stella, my sin was punished. The baby came-and went-and there can never be another. I thought my heart was broken at the time. Oh, it was bitter-bitter. Even now-sometimes-" She stopped herself. "But no, I needn't trouble you with that. I only want t

finished. "Oh, thank you," she whispered t

who would never fail her; but not even to her could she show the blackness of the gulf into which she had been hurled. Even now there were