Ram Nad already knew himself to be more vertebrate and sagacious than I, but he did not know Mrs. Ulswater.
The harbour at Colombo is no harbour, but an open roadstead, though quiet at that time.
“ The spicy breezes blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle,
And every prospect pleases, and only man is vile.'
The hymnal says so, but I don't agree with it. Three-quarters of Ceylon is an abomination of swamp, sand, and jungle, with a most pestilential and vile climate; whereas the normal Cingalese person is the mildest, most peaceful and pious agriculturist that's to be found.
Ram Nad wore a blue head cloth. The rest of his clothes were meant to be white, like his beard. He squatted behind his basket. Mrs. Ulswater rocked in her rocking-chair, knitting, looking at Ram Nad as if she did not make out how to begin benefiting him. She examined Ram Nad, who in turn examined Susannah, who in turn was, at that moment, playing jackstraws.
Ram Nad said there were no orphan-asylums in Ceylon that he could truly recommend, which sounded conscientious.
He continued: But for himself, he said, he was a lonely man; desolate and empty was his house of the beautiful gardens; he was desirous of children in his old age. The excellent Mrs. Ulswater—might her benevolence be rewarded! the learned Dr. Ulswater—might his folly and ignorance have been by time corrected!—he hoped these all would understand his immaculate motives. For what said the Great Teacher? “Let parents train their children, and their memories be honoured by the same: let the husband give his wife kindness, together with suitable ornaments and clothes, and let her be a thrifty housekeeper; finally, let the pupils give attention, and the teacher instruct them in knowledge.” The girl, he said, pleased him; therefore it was possible that he might in righteous charity adopt her, instruct her. By a singular accident he had but yesterday taken a solemn vow to adopt a child to his old age; many had been witness to this vow.
Mrs. Ulswater looked thoughtful. She rather wanted Susannah brought up Presbyterian. “He quotes Scripture very well,” she whispered to me. “It sounds queer, but maybe it's his clothes.” But she seemed disturbed, and looked away at Susannah, who played jackstraws.
I reflected vaguely about Ram Nad, on the different kinds of guile he was equal to, and how if he went off with Susannah, the Indian Ocean would seem less entertaining. Mrs. Ulswater appeared worried.