CHAPTER V
FIRST IMPRESSIONS.
Alicia’s was rather a cheerless arrival at home. Her old father-in-law was asleep on his charpai (small bedstead), and Robin, overcome by slumber on his arm-chair, was in the midst of a dream, when both were roused by the sound of Harold’s familiar voice. Up in a moment sprang Robin, ready to give a warm welcome. After kindly greetings were over, the lad turned hastily away to see what could be done for the comfort of those who had arrived in the middle of a cold February night.
“Oh, this is too bad—the fire out, and the lamp all but burned down!” cried Robin. “That lazy dog Mangal asleep, of course. But I set him the example.—Mangal! Mangal! bring more logs; fill the kettle—no, I’ll do that myself.—There is plenty of food in the doli [meat-safe]; we’ll have it warmed up in ten minutes. I am so provoked at having gone to sleep; but who would have dreamed of your coming on foot, and at such a late hour?”
The bride was too weary to wait till a fire could be lighted and food prepared. “I will go to my room, please,” she faintly said, “and the ayah will bring me my tea.” The poor girl forgot at the moment that an ayah’s services was one of the luxuries which she was to forego at Talwandi.
“I will act as your ayah,” said Harold. “As soon as Robin can coax fire to burn and water to boil, I will bring you your tea.”
As he spoke, Mr. Hartley, looking, as Alicia thought, haggard and pale as a ghost, came wrapped in his dressing-gown to welcome his daughter. It was an effort to Alicia to look pleased and happy on her first introduction to her new father; she felt something of awe not unmixed with pity, and wondered whether she could ever venture to be lively in the presence of such a man.
While the servant was preparing the food, Mr. Hartley proposed united thanksgiving and prayer. Alicia expressed her wish to join in it, though she was hardly able to keep her eyes open during the service, brief as it was. She then retired—if it could be called retiring in a place where the accommodation was so cramped that every sound could be heard over the house—and Alicia felt as if she must not only be uncomfortable herself, but make every one else so. The last sound which fell on her drowsy ear was that of Robin starting off with all the coolies whom he could manage to muster at that hour of the night, to go with him to the place where the bullock-cart had broken down, in order to bring home the luggage.
Alicia did not awake till very late on the following morning—so late that Mr. Hartley had gone to his work hours before; and Harold, who had a crowd of native visitors to welcome him back, was only waiting to give his wife breakfast before going the round of his station. After his months of absence, the young missionary’s work was much in arrears.
“Harold, dear Harold, can we not have a little quiet?” murmured Alicia. “It is very embarrassing to have such a number of black eyes staring curiously at the new Mem, as if I were some kind of white bear just imported from the North Pole.”