Robin, laying his hand on Alicia’s, quoted, not quite correctly, favourite lines,—
“Fret not for sheaves, but holy patience keep;
Wait for the early and the latter rain;
For all that faith hath scattered, love shall reap.
Gladness is sown; the Lord may let thee weep,
But know no tear of thine is shed in vain.”
CHAPTER XIX
THE WHITE BROTHER.
The heat continued to increase; to Alicia it seemed to be terrific. The accommodation in the two bungalows was small. Mr. Hartley and his daughter-in-law had repeated attacks of fever, though not of an alarming nature. Miranda was the most gentle and loving of nurses, and became increasingly dear in the mission circle. “If Gilbert send for his sister, I know not how we shall bear to part with her,” said Alicia. “Miranda is opening out like a flower, and such a lovely sweet one!”
Robin Hartley was by far the merriest of the circle, and during the trying season helped to keep every one’s spirits alive. He was naturally of a joyous nature, and he had now found a new fountain of pleasure. Little cared Robin for the heat, even when it shut him up in his little room in semi-darkness with the musquitoes, for he had his pen and paper with him. Robin had taken to composing, and found great delight in the occupation. No one knew whether he was writing a Panjabi vocabulary, a journal, or an epic poem; Robin kept his own secret, like a child bent on giving some one a surprise. He himself carried a thick roll of paper to the post, and he watched as eagerly for a reply as did Alicia for an answer to her letter to her cousin Gilbert.