“Yes, lassie,” said the old Scot, wiping his eyes after laughing at his own conceit. “Yes, I’m ye’r father’s best friend, lassie; am I not, Perowne?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said the merchant; “but you should not talk to her like that, Stuart.”
“And why not?” said the old man. “Are we to let her go on setting fire to trains all over the place, and trying to get us blown in the air?”
“Nonsense, nonsense! These fellows have sense enough to know what they may do and what they may not.”
“Oh, yes, they’ve plenty of sense,” agreed the old Scotch merchant.
“And they won’t forget in a hurry how we punished the other rajahs for their treacherous rising against the British power.”
“Yes, yes, I know all about that,” said the old man; “but Murad will not forget this insult to his pride, and I insist, Perowne, upon your keeping a tighter rein over that lassie.”
Mr Perowne seemed disposed to resist, but he ended by promising that he would; and after a certain number of discussions in various houses, the cessation of all further proceedings, and a certain amount of worry consequent upon the apprehended danger, the old state of affairs began once more to prevail.
The last to hold out was Mrs Doctor Bolter, who exercised a great deal of watchfulness over her husband and brother, sending one after the other at the most incongruous times.
So peace was once more settling down over Sindang, which rapidly began to resume its dreamy state, the only busy thing about the place being the river, which rapidly flowed onward towards the sea.