CHAPTER VII
EIGHTEEN ON TUESDAY
For two days after the loss of Sam, Nancy remained inconsolable; she could neither eat nor rest, her face looked small, her tragic eyes sunken and dim; also she wept for hours,—utterly indifferent to consolation, or chocolates. "The Corner" after the day's work, ascended to sympathize, Mrs. Ffinch descended with a similar kind intention, and expressed shocked concern; but her kissing, endearments, and honeyed words, were a waste of time and breath.
"I shall never get over it, Finchie, never!" moaned the girl, "and I won't rest till the panther has been killed, and skinned. Daddy has offered a reward of thirty rupees,—but so far it is no use."
"Take her out riding—make her go," commanded Mrs. Ffinch, "she can't sit here all day nursing her grief. Try what you can do, Captain Mayne, take her up to the Meaches, Nellie has returned home, and Major Meach always amuses Nancy."
"I don't think anything would amuse her now," he answered.
"Look at Togo," burst out Nancy, "he knows. All yesterday he lay with his face to the wall—here in the verandah—and he has not touched a morsel since it happened. Oh, my poor Sam!" The name was almost a cry.
"If you and Togo starve yourselves, my dear, what good will that do poor Sam?" inquired the practical visitor, "I'm sure he would not like you to die too. You really must cheer up, for your father's sake. I am awfully sorry myself; as the son of our dear old Dan, Sam was a sort of nephew. We will all give him a great funeral——"
She stopped abruptly as it flashed into her mind that there were no remains. Ultimately her powers of persuasion, proved effectual, and Nancy reluctantly agreed to give her pony some exercise, and not to indulge her emotions in such frantic ungovernable native fashion. Travers was as usual busy among his coolies, and Mayne and Nancy set off alone, and rode over to the Meaches, precisely as Mrs. Ffinch had ordained.