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 discussing the possibilities that might happen, that I suddenly spotted the three old ladies of my eventful train journey from Bombay to Bandalpur. I don't think I should ever have known them if there had not been three of them together. It was quite evident that they belonged to that large class of English people who believe in wearing their very oldest and shabbiest clothes when travelling. At the polo they appeared really beautifully dressed. They were not even dressed alike, as they had been on the journey, though, of course, being so much alike, and three together, they could not help being a bit quaint. I looked out anxiously for that nephew. When I couldn't see him anywhere round I began to feel real murderous. I looked at those three dear old aunts again. They were sitting in a row, sweet and simple, and delightfully contented with themselves. Surely they would not look like that if a nephew had treated them badly. But still, they were probably a good forgiving old trio, and perhaps love made them blind; but if I found that that nephew had made an excuse to desert them, and was skittling round the corner with some pretty girl or other, I would find him out, and give him 'a piece of my mind,' as Ermyntrude would say. After one of the chukkers I went over and spoke to them. They purred with pleasure when they saw me, and were delightfully demonstrative. Now I admit it, I love being purred over, and the future looked black for that nephew if he had wounded the feelings of these dear old aunts.

'We wondered in which camp you were,' purred