The forgiveness and reconciliation was a cold and formal affair, and afterwards her father went off gloomily to his study, and Mr. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Two shots were fired at him by Jonathan; one of which passed through his hat, and the other through the fleshy part of his arm; but he made good his retreat. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper.
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