SHERE ALI MEETS AN OLD FRIEND The carriage which was to take Violet Oliver and her friends back to their camp had been parked amongst those farthest from the door.

Violet stood for a long while under the awning, waiting while the interminable procession went by.

The generals in their scarlet coats, the ladies in their satin gowns, the great officers of state attended by their escorts, the native princes, mounted into their carriages and were driven away.
The ceremony and the reception which followed it had been markedly successful even in that land of ceremonies and magnificence.

The voices about her told her so as they spoke of this or that splendour and recalled the picturesque figures which had given colour to the scene.

But the laughter, the praise, the very tones of enjoyment had to her a heartless ring.