He felt sorry for the little girl with her downcast face, as he met her on the landing.
"Don't you want to come and visit me?" he asked, in an inviting tone.
"Oh, yes!" and the grave little face lightened.
The blaze was brighter here than downstairs, she felt quite sure. And the room had a more cheerful look. The table was spread with books and papers, and, oh, the books that were on the shelves! The curious things above them suggested India. There really was the triple-faced god she had seen so often, carved in ivory, and another carving of a temple. She walked slowly round and inspected them. Then she paused at a window.
"How much it rains!" she began. "I don't see how so much rain can be made. When is it going to stop?"
"I think it will hold up this afternoon and be clear to-morrow, clear and sunny."
"I like sunshine best. And little rains. This has been so long."
"And we haven't much to amuse a child. When it clears up we must find some little folks. Does it seem very strange to you?"
"I haven't lived with big women much, except Rachel. And the houses are so different. You get things about, and the servants pick them up. There are so many servants. Sometimes there are white children, but not many. Their mothers take them back to England. Or they die."
She uttered the last sadly, and her long lashes drooped.