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 he had sent me a sketch of it, and I very much wished he hadn't.
One felt that the gift would carry a trifle of irony.
'He has told me,' she said once brusquely, 'how good you have been to him.' 'Is he coming to Simla again ?' I asked.
'Oh yes! And please take it from me that this time he will conquer the place.

He has undertaken to do it.' 'At your request ?' 'At my persuasion--at my long entreaty.