I could see that he had taken some pains to make himself as smart as he could. Doubtless it was pleasant to him to observe the women frankly admiring him, and telling of his part in saving Aryenis.
“Why do the sahibs always get angry when one speaks to them on marriage, pretending they have never thought of any such things? Now, among my people of the Punjab—”
But I was out of the door by then, and did not hear the rest. Typical talk of an old sepoy, who considered it his business to tell his sahib what he ought or ought not to do. All the same, I reflected, Aryenis’s eyes were very steady when they looked on death. Moreover, they were exceedingly beautiful—in fact, quite in keeping with the rest of her. And with that reflection I entered the great hall.
CHAPTER XVI
ARYENIS AND I VISIT PAULOS
As I entered, Aryenis appeared on the staircase the other side of the hall in her riding-dress, and I realized once more the truth of Payindah’s words. She was extremely good-looking, if such a word can be applied fairly to some one who is very beautiful. Yes; she would be just the sort of wife of whom a man would feel really proud.
She looked at me critically and then smiled.
“I thought that only women were supposed to be vain. Why, O Harilek, have you got that coloured thing round your throat? Is this a custom of your folk when they go out riding with ladies to see old men? You have also got on another coat, not so shabby as the one you usually have. I think”—she looked again—“it is the one I used to wear.”
It was, as a matter of fact.
“All the same,” she went on, “when we get to Miletis you must have new things. I think that I will see to it, since men are not to be trusted to choose their clothes.”
“Thank you, Aryenis,” said I. “You told us we were not able to feed ourselves. Are we trusted to do anything?”