"Never mind me, miss," said the housekeeper with resolution. "I'll tell you all about it when we've done the cook and butler business. Ramachetty!"
He glided forward instantly, followed by his satellite, the cook; and the daily routine followed. The supplies bought that morning were displayed. How Eola hated the sight of the raw meat and live fowls exhibited for her inspection! The butler's accounts were rendered, and what was a more difficult matter, brought into accordance with her own. The patient servants received their dismissal; the butler happy in the thought that he had succeeded in over-charging his mistress exactly ten annas in spite of the eagle eye of the housekeeper; the cook equally content in having cheated the butler out of four annas; the cook boy pleased with himself in the purloining of an onion, a potato, half-a-dozen leaves of the cabbage and as much ghee as an expert finger could scoop out of the pot. Even the kitchen-woman was self-congratulatory. She had substituted a rotten egg for a sound one brought from market; adulterated the coffee during the pounding process with burnt rice and charred crusts of bread.
"Now tell me what has happened to upset you, Mrs. Hulver," said Eola, with a sympathetic kindliness that was one of her charms.
"It's my son, miss. Last evening the post brought me a letter to say that he was ill and was coming by the early mail this morning."
"And he hasn't arrived?" suggested Eola.
"On the contrary, Miss, he has come right enough; but you never saw such an object as he is in your life. Of course I'm his mother, and as William—that was my second—used to say: 'Mother's love is the same all over the world, whether her child is as beautiful as an angel or as ugly as a graven image.'"
"What has happened!"
"It was this way, miss. Some of the men in the regiment who ought to have known better—but as William—that was my third—used to say: 'Age won't mend a born fool'—took advantage of my boy's youth and innocence. They enticed him into the canteen and made him drink more than was good for him. He doesn't lean that way, I am glad to be able to say with truth; and this will be a lesson to him."
"You haven't told me yet what is the matter," remarked Eola.
"I'm coming to it all in good time. It appears he was quarrelsome in his cups. That's the odd part about drink, miss; you never know how it's going to act on your temperament. As William—that was my third—used to say: 'Liquor is like love, Maria, me dear; some it will make joyful, others sad; some will want to be friends with everybody; others will fight on the smallest pretence.' So it was with young William; he must needs fight another man in the canteen who was just as far gone as himself; and properly punished he was for his pains. The sergeant treated him leniently as it was his first offence; and gave him a few days' leave to recover. The boy is full of sorrow and repentance. He doesn't trouble about his black eye one little bit. What he feels is the shame of it. As William—that was my second—used to say: 'Shame cuts deeper than any whip, and the pain we bring on ourselves is the hardest of all to bear.' My boy is feeling the truth of his father's saying nicely," concluded Mrs. Hulver, with grim satisfaction.