‘I would read anything about India;’ and her tone, though low and subdued, betrayed such enthusiasm as could find nothing dry, and this in a girl who had read aloud the reign of Edward III. with stolid indifference!
‘Well, I think I can promise you more interesting reading about India when we go home,’ said Mr. Kendal.
The colour rose on Sophy’s cheek. Books out of papa’s study! Could the world offer a greater privilege?’ She could scarcely pronounce, ‘Thank you.’
‘Very faithful to her birth-place,’ said Miss Ferrars; ‘but she must have been very young when she came home.’
‘About five years old, I believe,’ said her father. ‘You surely can remember nothing of Talloon.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Sophy, mournfully; ‘I used—’
‘I thought Indian children usually lost their eastern recollections very early,’ said Miss Ferrars; ‘I never heard of one who could remember the sound of Hindostanee a year after coming home.’
Mr. Kendal, entertained and gratified, turned to his daughter; and, by way of experiment, began a short sentence in Hindostanee; but the first sound brought a glow to her cheeks, and, with a hurried gesture, she murmured, ‘Please don’t, papa.’
Albinia saw that feelings were here concerned which must not be played on in public; and she hastily plunged into the discussion, and drew it away from Sophy. Following her up-stairs at bed-time, she contrived to win from her an explanation.
Edmund had been seven years old at the time of the return to England. Fondly attached to some of the Hindoo servants, and with unusual intelligence and observation, the gorgeous scenery and oriental habits of his first home had dwelt vividly in his imagination, and he had always considered himself as only taken to England for a time, to return again to India. Thus, he had been fond of romancing of the past and of the future, and had never let his little sister’s recollections fade entirely away. His father had likewise thought that it would save future trouble to keep up the boys’ knowledge of the language, which would by-and-by be so important to them. Gilbert’s health had caused his studies to be often intermitted, but Edmund had constantly received instructions in the Indian languages, and whatever he learnt had been imparted to Sophia. It was piteous to discover how much time the poor forlorn little girl had spent sitting on the floor in the loft, poring over old grammars, and phrase-books, and translations of missionary or government school-books there accumulated—anything that related to India, or that seemed to carry on what she had done with Edmund: and she had acquired just enough to give her a keen appetite for all the higher class of lore, which she knew to reside in the unapproachable study. Those few familiar words from her father had overcome her, because, a trivial greeting in themselves, they had been a kind of password between her and her brother.