Chapter I. The Bride

Wherein a woman with a love of freedom, two soldiers in the Indian Army, and a snake-bite are most intimately concerned.

"And that is the major‘s bride? Ah, what a pity!"

The soft, Irish eyes of Mrs. Raleigh, the surgeon‘s wife, looked across the ball-room with a very real compassion in their grey depths.

"Pity?" said young Turner, the subaltern, who chanced to be at that moment in attendance upon her. "It‘s worse than that； it‘s a monstrous shame! She‘s only nineteen, you know； and he is twenty years older at least."

Mrs. Raleigh sighed.

"You have met her, Phil," she said. "I am going to get you to introduce me. Let us go across to her."

Mrs. Raleigh was greatly beloved by all subalterns. Her husband‘s bungalow was open to them day and night, and they took full advantage of the fact.

It was not that there was anything particularly brilliant about the surgeon‘s wife, but her ready sympathy made her a general

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