[36]. Carrots.
[37]. Raisins.
[38]. Flour.
[39]. Butter.
“Bawarchi!” said she, “Potatoes—four annas. Eggs—five annas, daga.”[[40]]
[40]. I will give.
“Bahut atcha!” said the cook, without remonstrance. He still had twenty-five per cent of profit.
Helen observed, and was encouraged. She summoned up her sternest look, and drew her pencil through the total. “Eight rupees,” she remarked with simplicity, “daga na. Five rupees daga,” and she closed the book.
Kali Bagh looked at her with an expression of understanding, mingled with disappointment. He did not expect all he asked, but he expected more than he got. As it was, his profit amounted only to two rupees, not much for a poor man with a family. But in after days, when his memsahib grew in general sagacity and particular knowledge of the bazar, Kali Bagh had reason to look back regretfully to those two rupees as to the brief passing of a golden age.
“I will now go down,” said Mrs. Browne with enthusiasm, “and look at his pots.”