"Certainly not! There will be four rupees fine to-morrow; four rupees kept back until the missie has twelve good, sweet-smelling double pink roses."
"I am a very poor man!" whined the gardener. "I have a large family and two wives, both big hungry women. What can I do if missus stops my pay?"
"You should have thought of that before you spoilt the roses," said Mrs. Hulver, showing no sign of relenting.
"I am not a bad man," pleaded the gardener. "Missus must please forgive. I am same religion as missus—a Christian——"
"What!" cried Mrs. Hulver, with such startling emphasis that they all jumped, butler, gardener and gardener's assistants.
"A Christian, a poor worm of a Christian, same religion as missus and master and missie!"
"How dare you call yourself a Christie?" cried Mrs. Hulver, in deep indignation. "How dare you say that you belong to the same religion as me and the master and our missie? You! a spoiler of roses! you! a lazy idle budmash of a gardener! You! with two big hungry wives!"
The unfortunate bigamist trembled visibly before this outpouring of wrath. He felt that he had made a false step.
"Ramachetty! is that man a Christian?" she asked, turning to the butler with an abruptness that upset his self-possession.
"I never heard that he was, ma'am. He doesn't belong to my Church, the Roman Church."