“Why?”
“Why? To take care of Minnie.”
“It doesn’t take two men as well as a couple of servants to take care of one little girl. Don’t talk stuff, my dear. I’m sure Sir Charles will take every care of her.”
Mrs Morley said no more, and Sir Charles left at last with the matter entirely settled to his satisfaction, while Minnie smiled in answer to a few words respecting the old folks leaving them to themselves.
The evening promised to be perfect, and Minnie was waiting for their visitor, when, just as she was beginning to be impatient, a note was brought from the Resident stating that Rajah Hamet had come up the river unexpectedly to discuss a question relating to the possibility of some stronger alliance.
“I am horribly disappointed,” wrote the Resident, “but it is a Government matter, and your uncle will understand with me that I am only too much delighted to find that this again proves that my doubts were all wrong, and that I am glad to welcome the Rajah here. He evidently means to stop the night, and I have sent in for Major Knowle to join us. Under the circumstances I feel that I dare not come. However, you shall not be disappointed; the boat is waiting with two picked men, and I must beg that your uncle and aunt will be your companions.”
“There, old lady,” said the Doctor as, in a disappointed tone, his niece finished reading the letter. “It will be rude to Sir Charles, as well as a bitter disappointment to Minnie. Come, there’s no cause for alarm. If there were I would not ask you. Say you will come.”
“No, Henry,” replied the lady firmly; “I will not.”
“Oh, very well,” said the Doctor, as he saw the tears rising in his niece’s eyes. “You sha’n’t be disappointed, Minnie. We will risk your aunt giving some poor woman a lotion to take instead of a draught. Get your cloak and veil. We mustn’t have any trouble from the night air. I’ll take you myself.—Hullo! What in the name of wonder does this mean? An elephant—another Rajah!”
“Two of them,” said Mrs Morley anxiously, “and they are coming here.”