"Oh! I've heard it all over and over again from hide-bound old generals and retired civilians at home, the same time-worn arguments that really mean nothing. However, I am quite ready to believe that you, personally, are well disposed towards the people, and that you do your best for them in spite of the trammels of red tape!"
He refrained from an amused expression of gratitude. After all, the girl was actuated by benevolent intention, however befogged, and she was enduring discomforts, almost hardship, in her self-imposed philanthropy, as he realised when they arrived at the Zenana Mission encampment. What wretched little tents, badly pitched, ill-lighted, with a clamouring throng of distressful humanity pressing up to the very flaps. From the tent in the centre came the sound of singing; a familiar hymn tune.
"There now!" exclaimed Miss Baker in vexation. "I'm late for evening prayers. I'm an atheist myself, but I try to fit in with my chief's customs."
"I hope for her sake that you spare her argument on the subject of religion at least!" said Flint with a magnanimous laugh, as he held her hand in farewell. "We shall meet again to-morrow morning."
He watched her disappear into the principal tent, and turned his steps back to his camp, his feelings ajar. Why would these good folk from home interfere in what they knew nothing about. What mischief they made, all unwittingly for the most part, adding to the difficulties already so great for those who were working under conditions but dimly understood even by the faction who trusted their own countrymen, and did not regard the English official as a thief and a bully and a time server....
In spite of Miss Baker's tiresome attitude, he looked forward to seeing her the following morning. She was a stimulating companion and engaging in her way with her boyish figure, her eager grey eyes, her expressive, irregular features.... In time, if they met often enough, they might become friends—an armed friendship, perhaps, but none the less interesting for that.... What would Stella have thought of her, Stella with her passionate perception of the work that England had done in the past, was doing in the present, would continue to do as long as she was permitted, with honest endeavour, for India. He was conscious of a revival of his old ambitions as he plodded over the uneven track, and far into the night he sat writing, reading, spurred, refreshed as well, by the unexpected diversion of Miss Baker's visit and her violent opinions.