"A quiet way of buying and selling; a way fit for one who meditates," said the Hindoo, looking round. "Tell me, my friend, what ails the child? Is she sick?"
"The child is well, Lala."
"Her mind wandered this morning. She failed to perceive a simple method which I tried to teach her. I feared she might be ill."
"She is not ill, my friend, but I think her mind is troubled."
"She is a woman. We are men. There is nothing in the world that is able to trouble the mind of the philosopher."
"Nothing," said Mr. Emblem manfully, as if he, too, was a disciple. "Nothing; is there now?"
The stoutness of the assertion was sensibly impaired by the question.
"Not poverty, which is a shadow; nor pain, which passes; nor the loss of woman's love, which is a gain; nor fall from greatness—nothing. Nevertheless," his eyes did look anxious in spite of his philosophy, "this trouble of the child—will it soon be over?"
"I hope this evening," said Mr. Emblem. "Indeed I am sure that it will be finished this evening."