talking. It seemed that Miss Mallory had seen Egypt, India, and Canada,
in the course of her last two years of life with her father. Their
travels had spread over more than a year; and Diana had brought Mr.
Mallory back to the Riviera, only, it appeared, to die, after some eight
months of illness. But in securing to her that year of travel, her
father had bestowed his last and best gift upon her. Aided by his
affection, and stimulated by his knowledge, her mind and character had
rapidly developed. And, as through a natural outlet, all her starved
devotion for the England she had never known, had spent itself upon the
Englands she found beyond the seas; upon the hard-worked soldiers and
civilians in lonely Indian stations, upon the captains of English ships,
upon the pioneers of Canadian fields and railways; upon England, in
fact, as the arbiter of oriental faiths--the wrestler with the
desert--the mother and maker of new states. A passion for the work of
her race beyond these narrow seas--a passion of sympathy, which was also
a passion of antagonism, since every phase of that work, according to
Miss Mallory, had been dogged by the hate and calumny of base
minds--expressed itself through her charming mouth, with a quite
astonishing fluency. Mrs. Colwood's mind moved uneasily. She had
expected an orphan girl, ignorant of the world, whom she might mother,
and perhaps mould. She found a young Egeria, talking politics with
raised color and a throbbing voice, as other girls might talk of lovers
or chiffons. Egeria's companion secretly and with some alarm reviewed
her own equipment in these directions. Miss Mallory discoursed of India.
Mrs. Colwood had lived in it. But her husband had entered the Indian
Civil Service, simply in order that he might have money enough to marry
her. And during their short time together, they had probably been more
keenly alive to the depreciation of the rupee than to ideas of
England's imperial mission. But Herbert had done his duty, of course he
had. Once or twice as Miss Mallory talked the little widow's eyes filled