“I am more than pleased with Alicia. She has one of the sweetest faces that ever I saw, with eyes soft and large like those of a gazelle, yet sometimes sparkling with fun. Alicia’s complexion is fair, but a little too pale, except when she flushes, as she did with fright on the first evening after my arrival. She certainly has uncommonly weak nerves.”
“What caused her alarm?” asked the father.
“Oh, merely a poor little bat that, attracted by the lights, went noiselessly wheeling and circling around the room. Alicia started, trembled, put up her hands, almost screamed when the creature’s shadowy flight brought it within a foot of her head! It was difficult to keep from laughing. Then when the intruder had been expelled, Alicia asked me anxiously whether she would find many snakes at Talwandi. ‘Not till the weather is warmer,’ said I; ‘at present they keep snug in their holes.’ Alicia did not look reassured. ‘Can you not kill them?’ she asked. ‘I always do when they come within reach of my arm,’ I replied. ‘I’ll cut a stick for you to have handy if ever a snake pay you a visit.’ You should have seen her look!” continued Robin, laughing at the recollection. “I think that the snakes are in little danger from Alicia’s prowess; I doubt whether she would be a match for a baby scorpion.”
“I am sorry my new daughter is so timid,” observed Mr. Hartley: “such nervousness may cause her distress in a wild place like this—twenty miles from civilized life, and these twenty miles of the roughest of roads.”
“I wonder how much of the lady’s luggage will survive the jolting and bumping?” said Robin. “Alicia has a number of wedding presents, enough to half furnish a shop. They were all put out to be admired, and they covered three tables and, I think, two chairs besides.”
“Where shall we put them?” asked Mr. Hartley.
“A question I’ve asked myself twenty times, but I have never succeeded in finding an answer. There is a piano, too, which Alicia is to play on, and I am to tune, though I have never tuned one in my life! Some of the presents seemed to me funny. There were three silver fish-knives in satin-lined cases; but where, oh where shall we find the fish?” Robin burst into a merry laugh as he added, “If any one had consulted me as to what would be an acceptable gift, I should have suggested a big kitchen kettle or a dozen good iron spoons.”
“You must try the jhil [lake] for fish,” said Mr. Hartley.
“One clock (there were two) took my fancy,” continued Robin. “The design on the top was evidently taken from Moore’s song about the love-lorn mermaid who was in pity transformed into a harp. There was the siren as the poet described her:—
‘Her hair, dropping tears from all its bright rings,