disorganised by the absence of cook and butler, who had gone on ahead to
the club with the supplies.

When, after an eight miles' ride, the Dalehams and Chunerbutty reached the
wooden shanty that was the rendezvous of the day, they found that they were
not the first arrivals. Four or five young men swooped joyously down on
Noreen and quarrelled over the right to help her from the saddle. While
they were disputing vehemently and pushing each other away the laughing
girl slipped unaided to the ground and ran up the wooden steps of the
verandah. She was instantly pursued by the men, who followed her to the
back verandah where she had gone to interview her servants. They clamoured
to be allowed to help in any capacity, and she had to assume an indignation
and a severity she was far from feeling to drive them away.

"Oh, do go away, please," she said. "You are only in the way. How can I
look after _tiffin_ if you interfere with me like this? Now do be good boys
and go off. There's Mrs. Rice arriving. Help her out of her trap."

They went reluctantly to the aid of the only other lady of their little
community, who was apparently unable to climb down from her bamboo cart
without help. Her husband and Daleham were already proferring their
services, but they were seemingly insufficient.

Mrs. Rice belonged to the type of woman altogether unsuited to the life of
a planter's wife. She was a shallow, empty-headed person devoid of mental
resources and incapable of taking interest in her household or her
husband's affairs. In her girlhood she had been pretty in a common style,
and she refused to recognise that the days of her youth and good looks had
gone by. On the garden she spent her time lounging in her bungalow in an
untidy dressing-gown, skimming through light novels and the fashion papers