Eola's light laugh was the only reply to such an assertion, and Mrs. Hulver took herself off to her sanctum at the back of the house with the nearest approach to wrath in her placid good nature she was capable of feeling.
Then Bernard Alderbury appeared on the scene, causing Mrs. Hulver doubt and perturbation of mind. He was a vigorous worker in the ranks of one of the large Church of England missionary societies, a strenuous parson who held a charmed life against the many evils prowling in his field of labour. He seemed immune to the effects of bad water, coarse food, poisonous mosquitoes and a tropical sun. His exemption was not obtained by disregard of the conditions of Indian life up-country. On the contrary he observed the greatest care in safe-guarding himself by the use of such appliances as science provided. He took the minimum risk and the maximum care and forethought. Aided by a magnificent constitution and an endless store of confidence and hope that killed depression, he preserved the health and good spirits so essential to his particular work.
Wenaston and Alderbury were old college friends. When the missionary spirit threw its mantle over the latter, Wenaston, by no means an irreligious man, did his best to persuade the other from—as he put it—throwing himself away on the colonies and hiding his light under a bushel. A man of his abilities and private means should have different aspirations.
Alderbury received the advice in his light-hearted manner, and assured his friend that going to India as a missionary would prove his own salvation and keep him out of the morasses of modern thought and controversy.
"I must fight some one," said Alderbury. "I don't want civil war; I want an enemy outside the pale of Mother Church. Hinduism seems to me the very thing, a noble and worthy foe; an ancient faith, a marvellous system of philosophy with a crafty degenerate priesthood. Doesn't the mere thought of it stir your blood and make you tingle to be up and fighting? Grafting upon the obsolete creed something infinitely better, a glorious oriental Christ, soul-satisfying and sufficient, Who will lift India's millions into a fresher and purer atmosphere of life and thought."
Wenaston glanced at the shining eyes turned upon him in enthusiasm as he would have looked at the symptoms of an obscure disease. It was a thing he could neither understand nor account for; but some instinct made him hold his peace. If the man was right, well and good; if he proved wrong, he would find it out for himself. He forbore to comment or to combat the new resolve. Alderbury pursued the course he had mapped out for himself, and in due time went to India.
Wenaston continued the student and developed into the school-master. When a vacancy occurred in the college of Chirapore he was asked if he would accept it. Until that moment he had not thought of going to the East. His sister, who had a great desire to see India, added her weight to inclination, and he decided to take the appointment.
Once more the two friends met, and Alderbury rejoiced in the renewal of their intimacy; for among other facts he learned that none pressed more heavily upon him than the loneliness of the missionary's life, its isolation and the complete absence of congenial companionship. Under the circumstances it was not to be wondered at that he never lost an opportunity in his missionary itineration of spending a few days with the Doctor and his sister. It was a little out of his way, but that did not matter. The holiday was the more complete since there was no duty within reach. The missions he superintended were in British territory, beyond the borders of the native state. He would have established work of some sort in Chirapore, but he was not encouraged to do so by his society nor by the Government of the State. The society already had more than enough irons in the fire with an open field in British India clamouring for yet more workers. But Alderbury could never visit his friend without casting envious glances at the big classes of boys assembled in the college hall. He would dearly have liked a free hand on the platforms of the classrooms; however this was not permissible. One of the conditions attached to the appointment of Principal was that there should be no attempt at proselytising; a condition to which Wenaston easily subscribed, since he had not even a spark of missionary enthusiasm.
Eola was of her brother's way of thinking. She too looked at Alderbury's work with something like detached curiosity. His energy, his whole-hearted desire to see India Christianised, his indefatigable and unceasing sacrifice of self, appealed to the instinctive hero-worship that is implanted in every woman's breast; but though she could wonder and admire and was insensibly drawn by his personality, she could not understand the fascination that held him to his chosen profession.
As for Mrs. Hulver she had her own reasons for disapproving of his visits, and it had nothing to do with his missionary zeal. Nevertheless she did not fail to provide a table worthy of her master's position. The food was substantial rather than recherché, nourishing rather than dainty. She had formed some fixed opinions upon the subject of missionaries generally; they were deeply rooted and unalterable. As a class missionaries required feeding up; their wardrobes needed the services of the dirzee to mend and patch and darn. She was puzzled more than a little when she found that Alderbury paid no particular attention to the food, and ate sparingly, with a distinct inclination towards daintiness. As for his wardrobe it was in better condition in some respects and needed less attention than the Doctor's. Not a sock required darning; not a coat needed stitching; and what was more, his clothes were not only new and none the worse for wear, but they were of the best and finest description. The pay of a missionary was known to be of narrow proportions, leaving no margin for luxury. It did not seem fit and proper in her eyes that he should be better dressed than his host. That he possessed anything besides his salary did not enter Mrs. Hulver's head; because if he had private means he never would have come to India as a missionary; he would have adopted the military service and been an officer in the army.