Poor bereaved Maha could not resist the fascination of that loving manner, that winsome smile, which was to her sore heart like balm on a bleeding wound. Theyoung Karen intuitively clung to her young mistress, and delighted to sit at her feet. As Maha looked up trustfully into Io’s face, Mrs. Coldstream thought that the dark eyes raised towards her were lovely; that there was beauty in the clearly-pencilled eyebrows and the fine, albeit tangled, black hair. Perhaps others would not have thought Maha pretty—Thud called her a flat-nosed fright—but none could deny that the young Karen’s figure was perfectly formed, and that her movements were graceful. The girl’s voice, too, was soft and melodious.
“I am going to try to teach Maha a little about our blessed religion,” said Io to her husband one morning at breakfast.
“I’ve a theory that natives cannot understand anything that they cannot manipulate with their hands and masticate with their teeth,” was the formal dictum of Thud. “They cannot even imagine a god unless they see some hideous image with black face and half-a-dozen arms.”
“Karens are said to be free from idolatry,” was Coldstream’s quiet observation.
“Oh, people may say so, but I don’t believe it,” said Thucydides Thorn. “I’m trying to discover why all brown and black skinned nations worship idols.” Thud’s head was poised a little on one side, for this was a weighty subject.
“You had better make sure that your theory, whateverit may be, is founded on facts,” observed Coldstream.
“Theories first, facts come afterwards,” said Thud solemnly—an observation which made Oscar faintly smile, and Io burst into a silvery laugh.
“You will next have a theory that trees should be planted root upwards, and people walk on their heads!” cried she.
“You need not laugh,” said Thud, a little offended; “you women know nothing of logic. I can prove my assertion to be correct. Pray, which comes first—a thought, or an act?”
“The thought, if it prompt the act,” replied Io.