Her father had been good-looking and there had been an irresistible glint of admiration in her mother’s eyes when he appeared in full Regimentals or wore his colourful mess jacket.
“You do look smart, my darling!” Azalea had heard her say once. “There is no one as fascinating as you!”
“You flatter me!” her father answered, “and you know what I think you look like.”
He kissed her mother, but when he had gone Azalea heard her sigh as if she was lonely without him.
‘Will I ever fall in love?’ Azalea reflected as the Orissa rolled creakingly from side to side.
Then as she asked herself the question, she remembered her uncle saying, “You will never marry!”
That had been two years ago and she wondered if he still believed that she was so singularly unattractive that it was unlikely that an
