rob him of the expected effect of Casimir Wieniawski's disclosures.
"If I find you en ami defamille, at Delhi, so that you can
confidentially approach Sir Hugh Johnstone, the ci-devant Hugh
Fraser, your task will be soon set for you, and your reward easily
earned; but under no circumstances are you to make the slightest
attempt to a confidential acquaintance with this wonderful Nadine.
That is my affair." The tone was almost trifling in its lightness,
but Alan Hawke recognized the hand of iron in the velvet glove.

"And now, Sir," coquettishly said Madame Berthe Louison, "you have
been a squire of dames in your day. Tell me of social India, for,
while I shall get a good maid out at Calcutta, I must depend upon
Munich, Venice, and Brindisi for my personal outfit. I know the
whole United Kingdom thoroughly. The Englishman and his cold-pulsed
blonde mate at home are well-learned lessons. The Continent, yes,
even Russia, I know, too," she gayly chattered; "but the Orient
is as yet a sealed book to me, and I would be helpless in Father
India, without the womanly gear appropriate to the social habits
of your countrywomen."

"You have lived in England?" briefly demanded Alan Hawke, in some
surprise at her frank admissions.

"Yes, too long!" sternly answered Madame Louison, who was enjoying
a cigarette, as she signed to the maid to leave them alone. "I
detest the foggy climate," she added, a little late to temper the
bitterness of the remark.

"I will lull this watchful feminine tiger," the Major secretly
decided, as he began a brilliant sketch of the social life of the