was the cause of it. But I never let Boy see that I noticed. It's always such a mistake to let a man know that you miss him. Let him guess that, and he will stay away, hugging himself and thinking how important he is, and how much he's being missed, and enjoying himself much more somewhere else than he would have done if he had been kept in doubt as to whether he was being missed or not. So I just smiled on Boy as usual whenever he did come, and never let him see I noticed how seldom he had come lately.
It was just before dinner on the last night. They had been playing cricket, and Boy was in his cricketing things, rather flushed, but very happy. He came and sat down beside me just in the old way.
'Well,' he said cheerily, 'are you glad we land to-morrow?'
'Yes, very,' I said; 'aren't you?'
'I don't know,' he answered after a second's pause, as he unconsciously slipped into his old familiar attitude. 'I've had such an awfully good time on board; I'm half sorry it's over.'
Perhaps it is as well that people's ideas of a good time vary.
'What are you going to do as soon as you land?' I asked warily, knowing that I was treading on dangerous ground.
'I expect I shall find orders awaiting me,' he said. 'I'm still uncertain where I shall be sent. It may be Anundpur, or, again, it may be Bandanager. It's rather exciting not knowing whether it may
