"Vanity and vexation of spirit, Herbert."
"Nonsense! I think our people are far too severe. Wouldn't you like to wear dresses of a pretty colour, and a gold brooch and a hat with flowers in it?"
"What is the use of thinking of such things?" said Rachel, rather pettishly, for she had the true feminine instinct for fashion and colour. "Father would never let me dress gaily; besides, think of the scandal there would be if I appeared in Bethgamul as you describe."
"That native girl, Tera, was gaily enough dressed, Rachel; and no one said anything in rebuke to her."
"You mean Bithiah," corrected Rachel, primly. "Don't call her by the name her heathen father gave her; you forget, Bithiah was a king's daughter--not an English girl. Mr. Johnson said that her father wished her to be dressed like a parrot. After all, Bithiah was only a poor heathen."
"Tera was; but Bithiah believed, and was baptized like a good Christian."
"It did not do her much good, then," said Rachel, with jealousy, "seeing that she ran away from our good minister. They will never find her again."
"Never!" said Herbert, confidently. "She has vanished as completely as though the earth had swallowed her up. Mr. Johnson thought that she might have gone to London. Indeed, he went there to search for her."
"Why to London?"
"Oh, it seems that the captain of the ship she came to England in lives in London--a man called Jacob Shackel, to whom Mr. Johnson thought she might have gone. But Shackel knew nothing about her, and Mr. Johnson came home in despair. I often wonder why she ran away."