She looked round with admiration on the well-kept borders, carefully trimmed shrubs and hedges, and the well-watered flowers.
"It's all of a piece—outside and in," said Mrs. Fellowes. "The fact is, my dear, we are too much birds of passage to do justice to our homes here. They are merely camps to us, but to these sons of the soil they are real homes; and that's what Mr. Morpeth wants to make them for his poorer brethren of the Eurasian community, who are too often contented to crowd together in the most miserable sheds. Then Mr. Morpeth gets much better service than we can. His staff is not scattered to the winds every few years like ours. The residents are able to have their retainers growing grey in their service, and they become as perfect as the servants of the best, and fast dying out type, at home. Here comes one of these now! Well, Mootoo, is your master at home?"
"He is, ma'am, and very pleased will he be to see you," said the man, showing his white teeth as he salaamed. One could see from under the edge of his artistically-folded turban, a suspicion of grey hair. His snow white tunic fell in graceful folds about his tall figure as he noiselessly led the way to introduce the visitors.
"This hall is my envy," said Mrs. Fellowes. "It is all paved in real marble. Some of those older Madras houses are so. I do love those black and white chequers. What a poor substitute our rattan matting is, or even when the chequers are copied in chunam."
As they lingered to admire some of the massive hand-made furnishings of the hall they heard the sound of voices.
"Oh, what a pity, he has company to-day! I should have preferred a nice talk with him all by ourselves," whispered Mrs. Fellowes.
"Only one company, Missus," said Mootoo, smiling, having overheard her remark as he prepared to announce them.
Mr. Morpeth, of whom they first caught sight, was bending forward in his easy-chair with an air of interest listening to the conversation of his visitor, Mark Cheveril.
"Ah, good! A meeting of friends!" exclaimed the old man in a gleeful tone. "This is what Mootoo would call a lucky day for me!"
"For me too," said Mark, as he shook hands with the ladies, a happy light coming into his frank eyes. "And it follows on a disappointment, too. I've just been to Clive's Road on my way from the station to find its mistress absent."