"I spoke a little—thinking him a guru——" She paused. The name woke a chord of memory. "Chandranath," she repeated, "that is the name they said——"
"Who?" Roy asked sharply, coming out of his own dream.
"Mátaji and the widowed Aunt——"
"What do they know of him?"
"How can I tell? I think it was—through our guru, he made offer of marriage—for me; wishing for an educated wife. I was wondering—could it be the same——?"
"Well, look here," he rounded on her, suddenly imperious. "If it is—you can tell them I won't have it. Grandfather would be furious. He ought to know—and Dyán. Your menfolk don't seem to get a look in."
"Not much—with marrying arrangements. That is for women and priests. But—for now, I am safe, with Mrs Leigh——"
"And you'll stay safe—as far as he's concerned. You see, I know the fellow. He's the man I slanged in the City that day. Besides—at school——"
He unfolded the tale of St Rupert's; and she listened, amazed.
"So don't worry over that," he commanded, in his kind elder-brotherly tone. "As for your poor little chirágh, for goodness' sake don't let it get on your nerves."