In among the English something after the fashion of grace notes in the
bars of music--enlivening, if sharp at times--come occasional Americans,
turning up in unexpected places for unusual reasons, and remaining--
because it is no man's business to interfere with them. Unlike the English,
who approach all quarters through official doors and never trespass
without authority, the Americans have an embarrassing way of choosing
their own time and step, taking officialdom, so to speak, in flank. It is
to the credit of the English that they overlook intrusion that they would
punish fiercely if committed by unauthorized folk from home.

So when the Blaines, husband and wife, came to Sialpore in Rajputana
without as much as one written introduction, nobody snubbed them.
And when, by dint of nothing less than nerve nor more than ability to
recognize their opportunity, they acquired the lease of the only vacant
covetable house nobody was very jealous, especially when the Blaines
proved hospitable.

It was a sweet little nest of a house with a cool stone roof, set in a rather
large garden of its own on the shoulder of the steep hill that overlooks
the city. A political dependent of Yasmini's father had built it as a haven
for his favorite paramour when jealousy in his seraglio had made peace
at home impossible. Being connected with the Treasury in some way,
and suitably dishonest, he had been able to make a luxurious pleasaunce
of it; and he had taste.

But when Yasmini's father died and his nephew Gungadhura succeeded
him as maharajah he made a clean sweep of the old pension and
employment list in order to enrich new friends, so the little nest on the
hill became deserted. Its owner went into exile in a neighboring state
and died there out of reach of the incoming politician who naturally wanted