“That house, newly built, is damp,” expostulated Robin; “you must put nothing into it yet.”
“Indeed, but I will,” was Alicia’s playful retort. “I want my own property in my own home, and it only gives useless trouble to carry it backwards and forwards. I suspect, Master Robin, that you wish to see the contents, and so you shall, but not till I have arranged them and put them into right order.”
“You have been in India so short a time,” began Robin; but the wilful girl cut him short with a laugh.
“And so you favour me with the results of your long experience. Oh, grave and reverend signor!” she cried, “I have been a little longer in the world than you have, and won’t stand like a meek little girl to hear how, when, and where I should open my boxes. So go to your breakfast, dear Robin. I have been very selfish to keep you from it so long. I am sure that I am much obliged to you for all the trouble which you have taken about my luckless luggage.”
As Robin sat at the breakfast-table drinking cold tea and eating colder suji, he heard Alicia, as she stood in her yet uncompleted veranda, ordering the coolies to take away or bring (she constantly confused the two verbs), eking out her slender amount of Urdu with English, and more comprehensible signs, and evidently rather pleased at finding herself in the position of mistress in her own dwelling.
“What father said yesterday was quite right,” reflected Robin. “He and I had better go out with our tent for some days itinerating in the district, and leave Harold and Alicia to settle down quietly here. It is quite natural that they should like to be a little together, with no one else near. Of course, the bride, accustomed to live in a handsome house in a city, finds our quarters uncomfortably small when we are all together. Let her and her husband have the bungalow for a while all to themselves.”
So in the course of the day this little matter was settled. Soon after dawn on the following morning, Mr. Hartley and his younger son started on an itinerating tour amongst the surrounding villages. A camel carried their tiny tent, a few wraps, and cooking-vessels. The old missionary rode his pony, and Robin walked. The weather was delightful, as it usually is at that time of the year. Harold and his bride were left in sole possession of the bungalow at Talwandi.
CHAPTER VI
LITTLE FOES.
Alicia was up in time to see the travellers off; with her own hands she filled the provision-basket, and helped Robin to pack her father’s portmanteau. She was resolved to show herself to be a capable, energetic missionary Mem. All her idle days were over: Alicia had grand designs in her head. She looked so bright, animated, and happy as she bade the travellers good-bye, that Robin, as he walked beside his father’s tattu, laughingly observed, “I think that our pretty exotic is taking root already, and promises to climb up bravely. To get so soon over the loss of a piano, the breaking of bottles, and the smashing of porcelain, shows a spirit worthy of Harold’s bride.”