CHAPTER II.
ON AN AFTERNOON.
Almost due east from Delhi Dr.Hugh Marlowe, a venerable American physician, had lived for more than twenty years.

Since the death of his wife, six years previous to the Mutiny, he had dwelt alone with his only daughter, Mary, and their single servant, Mustad, a devout Mussulman.

A portion of the time mentioned had been passed without the society of his beloved child, who spent several years in New England (where the physician himself was born and had received his education) at one of the fashionable schools.
Shortly after her graduation, Miss Marlowe met Jack Everson, fresh from Yale, and the acquaintance ripened into mutual love, though the filial affection of the young woman was too profound to permit her to form an engagement with the young man until the consent of her father was obtained, and he would not give that consent until he had met and conversed with the young gentleman face to face and taken his measure, as may be said.
"If he doesn't esteem you enough to make a little journey like the one from America to this country he isn't worth thinking about." "But he _will_ make the journey," said the blushing daughter, patting the bronzed cheek of the parent whom she idolized as much as he idolized her.
"Don't be to sure of that, my young lady; romantic young girls like you have altogether too much faith in the other sex." "But he _has_ started," she added with a sly smile.
"He has, eh?
He will change his mind before he reaches here.

How far has he got ?" "He was due in England many weeks ago." "Well, well! How soon will he arrive _here_ ?" "I think he is due now." "Very probably, but his fancy will give out before he reaches this out-of-the-way place." "I think not, papa." "Of course not, of course not; I just told you that that is the way with all foolish girls like you." The old gentleman had assumed a stern earnestness, and he added: "I tell you he will never show himself here! I know what I'm talking about." "But he _is_ here, papa; let me introduce you to Jack Everson, a physician like yourself." All this time the smiling young man was standing directly behind the old doctor, who was lazily reclining in a hammock on the shaded lawn, smoking a cheroot, while his daughter sat on a camp stool, with one hand resting on the edge of the hammock, so as to permit her gently to sway it back and forth.

As she spoke the tall, muscular American walked forward and extended his hand.
"Doctor, I am glad to make your acquaintance," he said, in his cheery way.