She came, but not at the jerk of a wire; she arrived a week later,
with a face of great propriety and a smile of great unconcern.
Harris, having got her effectually out of harm's way, shirked
further insistence, and I have reason to believe that Armour was
never even mentioned between them.

Dora applied herself to the gaieties of the season with the zest of
a debutante; she seemed really refreshed, revitalized. She had
never looked better, happier. I met her again for the first time at
one of the Thursday dances at Government House. In the glance she
gave me I was glad to detect no suspicion of collusion. She plainly
could not dream that Edward Harris in his nefarious exercise of
parental authority had acted upon any hint from me. It was rather
sweet.

Out in the veranda, away from the blare of the Viceroy's band, she
told me very delicately and with the most charming ellipses how
Armour had been filling her life in Agra, how it had all been, for
these two, a dream and a vision. There is a place below the bridge
there, where the cattle come down from the waste pastures across the
yellow sands to drink and stand in the low water of the Jumna, to
stand and switch their tails while their herdsmen on the bank coax
them back with 'Ari!' 'Ari!' 'Ari!' long and high, faint and
musical; and the minarets of Akbar's fort rise beyond against the
throbbing sky and the sun fills it all. This place I shall never
see more distinctly than I saw it that night on the veranda at
Government House, Calcutta, with the conviction, like a margin for
the picture, that its foreground had been very often occupied by the
woman I profoundly worshiped and Ingersoll Armour. She told me that