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realized that I’d hate it, anyway. I couldn’t stick it. Not after this.”
    “The first thing they looked for in a restaurant,” Pippa said, “was the sweet trolley. And all through the meal, they kept their eyes on it. You’d think they would have decided, but no—when the time came, they kept shilly-shallying over their choice.”
    “Bloody annoying.”
    “Yes, that wasn’t a very good holiday.”
    “Come with us on this one, then. Make up for past disappointments. All right?”
    “All right,” she said. She folded her napkin and stood up. “I have two witnesses now, so you can’t back out of it.”
    They had coffee on the screened-in porch. Pippa told Millie what creams and medicines she was going to need, to ward off insects and avoid general infection. She also gave her a few suggestions on where to shop for what in town. Millie asked about the paintings in the house.
    “Most of them are mine,” Pippa said. “Yes. It’s become a mania over the years. I have visions of certain paintings I could do—marvellous, brilliant pictures. That’s what keeps me going. And then they never live up to it. Naturally. But some of these are by aunts and uncles. My people were Indian Army and they all painted. And their friends painted. It was the done thing at the time. One of the cousins was quite exceptional—a genuine talent. But he died young, so only a few of his works were left. The other relations lived to a great age. The ones who hadn’tthe talent. Well, no talent for painting. A talent for growing old.”
    “How did he die?”
    “Who knows? Malaria, cholera, some sort of fever, heatstroke—anything. It’s difficult to imagine now that any army could have thrown away its men rather than infringe the dress regulations. Adherence to the rules at all costs. One of my uncles maintained that the troubles in India only began with the telegraph. After that, the politicians at home could issue their silly orders and the men on the spot had to carry them out. But before that, all the instructions came overland or by sea; it took months. By the time one of the idiot dispatches arrived, the local company man had already taken whatever steps were best suited to both sides. Those are his. And this one’s mine, but you can see where I had to start over down at the left.”
    “It’s much harder to correct a mistake with watercolours, isn’t it?”
    “Impossible, really. The speed is part of it. You should have an overall impression of freshness and of capturing the moment and the mood. I’m a convinced believer, but I think it’s usually considered the amateur’s medium.”
    They went outdoors to look at the leopard cubs, special pets of the Foster grandchildren, who had gone back to their school in England now that the holidays were over. Millie was enchanted. She bent down and talked to the animals; they rolled over each other to get to her, stood with their paws up against the wire, and mewed.
    “Can I pat one of them?” she asked.
    “Yes, but be careful.”
    “I’ve had injections for everything.”
    “Yes, my dear, we’ve all had the shots, but they’ll not do you much good if you’re scratched by a leopard. They’regrowing so quickly. Here, I’ll show you.”
    Millie tickled one of the cubs. She said, “I just love them. I’d like to take them home.”
    “One becomes so attached to pets. I used to think it would get better as I got older, but it’s worse, if anything. A zoo in Germany wants them. Might as well. They’ll be no use out here now.”
    “Why not?”
    “Too long being fed and cared for. Too much civilization. And the boys wouldn’t let them alone for an instant when they were here—that was bad for them as well. Jamie was too ridiculous, said he wanted to name one of them ‘Kung Fu’ and take him back to school where he’d train him to kill on command.”
    “I guess the boys will want to come live out here eventually?”
    “It would be lovely, of course. A dream come