Alicia glanced around her and above, surveying her new habitation. “Very bare it looks, I must own; no ceiling to hide the rafters; nothing pretty to adorn the walls. This clearly has never been the residence of a woman. I will soon make mine look brighter than this. I am glad that Harold has promised to leave all the decorations to me. Ah, here come our goods at last!” exclaimed Alicia, springing up joyfully from her chair as Robin, himself carrying a large portmanteau, appeared at the head of a band of coolies, who, after the curious native fashion, bore their heavy loads on their heads instead of their backs. “O Robin, I am so glad to see you. Let the men set down their burdens here in the veranda. You will help me, I know, to open the boxes.”
Robin was hungry, and would far rather have taken his place at the breakfast table after a night of toil; but without a word he put down the portmanteau and went off for his tools. Alicia was very eager to have the cases opened, to ascertain that her goods had sustained no injury from the jolting or the fall from the cart. But when the wooden cover of the first large box was raised, and the tin beneath unsoldered (rather a tedious operation), the examination of the contents, slowly extricated from the hay in which they had been packed, was not very satisfactory to their owner.
“Oh, my clock—my beautiful clock! The siren broken to pieces! I daresay that the works are useless!” exclaimed Alicia.
“I hope not,” said Robin cheerily. “I am a bit of a watchmaker, you know. I hope to set the clock going again, though I cannot undertake to patch up the siren. Here, let me help you. That box is too heavy for your little hands.”
“It is my medicine-chest, and full of bottles,” said Alicia. “Oh,” she added in a different tone, “what can have happened? Something inside must have been broken; my hands are all covered with castor-oil! Ugh!”
Not only the fingers of the lady, but a good many things besides, were moistened with oil and full of its odour. Scarcely a bottle had survived the shocks of that journey. Alicia looked aghast when she became aware of the extent of the mischief done.
“Don’t worry about it, dear,” said her brother-in-law, with rough sympathy. “To have nice things spoilt is a very common experience with us missionaries, so I have often congratulated myself on having so few things to be ruined.” Seeing the cloud still on Alicia’s face, Robin added more seriously, “You know there is something in the Bible about taking joyfully the spoiling of goods.”
“It is difficult to take it joyfully, but I must try to take it patiently,” said Harold’s bride. “But where is my beautiful piano? Surely you have not left it behind!”
“One of the oxen is loaded with—with what remains of it,” said Robin slowly.
“Oh, surely the piano is not broken! My father’s gift! Don’t say that it too has come to grief!” cried Alicia.