The intense heat of the Indian day was over, and Captain and Mrs. Gidley, with their little son, Dick, were seated on the verandah of their bungalow, enjoying the comparative coolness of the evening. Captain Gidley was a tall, handsome man, whose spare form and tanned skin told of many years lived beneath an eastern sun; his wife was a very pretty woman, and though she had lost the pink roses from her cheeks which she had brought to India with her as a bride, ten years previously, she had not grown languid and idle, but was as bright and cheerful as she had been in her English home, so that her little son, now eight years old, always had a friend and playmate in the mother, who loved him, next to her husband, better than all the world...FROM THE BOOKS.