In a few minutes the trio had floated off, leaving Jaloo, the red bearded, with his spotless coat and pointed leather shoes, standing, tray in hand, watching their progress with eyes of grim disapproval.
There was the boat moving slowly up the surface of the broad, shining river, now swollen far above its usual limits, its brimming waters almost on a level with the plains; in the prow sat a white dog, in the stern two dark-haired girls in white; in the midst his master, bareheaded, rowing against the current with long, easy strokes. A rainy season sunset lit up the scene with a magnificent blaze of crimson and orange; the combined brilliance cast a dazzling glamour over the water, and the figures in the boat seemed transmuted to gold.
"What a fool was his master!" grunted Jaloo, as he stood gazing; "was he not well enough, and yet he would surely marry one of those women, doubtless the girl with the proud eyes, whom they in the bazaar called the 'Belait' (Europe) Missy." With this conviction he turned his back on the receding bank, and proceeded to toil up to the bungalow with his tray of jingling glasses, grunting and grumbling all the way.
"I do believe it was you who sent us all the books and mangoes this hot season," said Pussy; "now, was it not, Mr. Salwey? Mother thought they came from some of Dom's friends. Oh, the mangoes were so good and juicy. I loved them—but Verona loved the books."
"I am glad you were both pleased," rejoined Salwey with a smile.
"Dom doesn't read now, nor Mother; she is so busy at her own books, since Abdul Buk has a boil on his neck. Oh, goody me! she does work. All day long and half the night."
"At books? Do you mean that your mother writes?"
"No, no, no; only in account books—about her propertee—and she has such piles of them! I saw them," giggled Pussy; "I peeped into the office the other day, when she was with Nani. My, such books! all ruled, like a draught board. Such rows and rows of figures!"
"Surely you must be making a mistake?" and Salwey paused abruptly, resting on his oars, and contemplated Pussy with a glint of steel in his blue eyes, "only one class keeps accounts that way."
"But no, no, no; I am quite certain," she giggled. "I thought it awfully queer—and what class do keep such funny books?"