With a decisive movement, Gabby stood up and walked over to the writing desk in the corner of her room. She drew forth a clean piece of foolscap, sharpened her quill, and began to write. By her calculation, the plan would entail four letters, all of which needed to reach India as soon as possible.

THE ADDRESS THAT GABBY GAVE the Dewland coachman the next morning was in Sackville Street. After a brief drive from St. James’s Square, they reached an area of small houses, neatly painted and kept up, but very modest.

“My goodness,” Gabby said uncertainly to Quill, “this is very different from what Kasi is used to.”

“Do you live in a great mansion, then?”

“Oh, yes, in a palace,” Gabby explained with an utter lack of self-consciousness. “Father has a distinct love of luxury, you see. It’s one of the things that made his missionary endeavors so trying for him.”

“I can imagine,” Quill replied dryly.

Mrs. Malabright turned out to be a bustling, kindly Englishwoman who weighed at least nine stone more than Kasi.

Quill saw immediately why Gabby and her father were determined to protect the prince from taking his place on the Holkar throne. He was a very small, sweet-eyed Indian lad, who looked more like seven than ten. He drifted into the room sideways, like a wary deer entering an open pasture, and his eyes lit uncertainly on each face, darting off to the corners of the room.

Until he saw Gabby. Then he rushed to her side and clutched a bit of her gown. “Tell me a story, Gabby!” He spoke as if he had last seen her that very morning.

Gabby cupped his face in her hands. “Of course I’ll tell you a story, sweetheart. But manners first.”

Kasi grinned, a shy, heartbreaking grin. “Namasthe, Gabby.” He brought his palms together and bowed slightly.

“No, no,” Mrs. Malabright broke in. “We are in England now.”

Kasi started again. “How do you do, Gabby? I am pleased to meet you.”

“That’s for strangers, dear. You know Miss Jerningham,” Mrs. Malabright prompted.

He looked confused. Then he backed up and bowed yet again.

“How do you do, Miss Stranger? I am—I am—I am …” He trailed off.

Gabby nodded gravely in response and curtsied. “Thank you very much, Mr. Kasi Rao. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Kasi’s face brightened. The formula had been played through. “Now tell me a story, Gabby. Please, please.”

Gabby looked apologetically at Mrs. Malabright and Quill. “Would you mind terribly if I told Kasi a brief story?”

Mrs. Malabright beamed. “He’s told me all about your stories, miss. He does powerfully love them.”