Star of India by Alice Perrin (ereader ebook txt) 📗

Zenana colleague might have become a bit of a strain. For himself her young presence, despite her antagonism, was in a measure welcome after his fit of depression. Physically she was an attractive creature, and her naïve self-importance, her impulsive opinions, suited her vigorous personality. Jacob, the little traitor, was already making advances to the visitor. She snapped her finger and thumb in response.

"I like dogs," she said, as though it were a form of weakness that redounded to her credit. "And they always love me!"

"And horses?"

"Oh! yes, rather! I wanted to buy a pony, but Miss Abigail seemed to think it would not be quite in keeping with the work we are doing, and that the money had better be spent in some other direction.[Pg 193] We get about in a bullock shigram, not a very comfortable or rapid mode of progression, but comfort and convenience don't count, of course. Personally, I'm not sure that we oughtn't to walk everywhere."

"It would perhaps be a waste of energy and time," suggested Philip.

"But think of the example! You, I suppose, ride or drive everywhere?"

"I couldn't get through my work if I didn't; it would entail endless delay in the administration of relief. I'm practically single-handed in this circle. For example, to-morrow morning I have to cover, roughly speaking, about fifteen miles before breakfast. How would you like to come with me? Have you a saddle—I could mount you."

Obviously the offer tempted her. "Yes, I brought out my saddle. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad thing——"

"It would give you a further opportunity of condemning our iniquitous methods," said Philip meekly.

She let the thrust pass. "All right; what time do you start?"

"About six. Is that too early for you?"

"Don't talk rot! Send the gee to our camp, and I'll be ready."

"Good! Now can I offer you any refreshment—will you have a cup of tea or coffee, or," he ventured, in view of the cigarettes, "a peg?"

"Nothing, thank you." She rose a little reluctantly. "Now I must get back——"

"Have you a lantern?" he inquired, for the sudden Indian dusk had descended.

[Pg 194]

She looked out of the tent. "No, I never thought of it, but I can find my way all right."

"I'll come with you——"

She protested. He paid no attention; and presently they were stumbling along side by side in the wake of a peon who marched ahead swinging a hurricane lantern, and banging a staff on the ground to scare possible snakes that at this season, waking from their winter sleep, were apt to lie curled in the warm dust, a danger to pedestrians.

"Are you married?" she asked him suddenly.

"No, I am a lone being, and I think it is just as well."

"Why?"

"If I had a wife and children it would only mean separation sooner or later. Children must be sent home after a certain age, not only on account of health and education but because the moral atmosphere is bad for them, and to my mind the children should be considered before the husband."

"How do you mean—the moral atmosphere?" she asked argumentatively. "I have always understood that natives were excellent with children, kind and patient and faithful."

"They are all that, bless them!" he said, "but their ideas of discipline are not quite the same as our own. To tell lies is merely a matter of self-protection, and, all wrong as it may seem, they knuckle under to English children, let them have their own way, and encourage them indirectly to be arrogant and self-indulgent, taking a sort of pride in their faults! At least that is what my married friends tell me."

[Pg 195]

"Then the parents are to blame!" declared Miss Baker severely, "for leaving their children to the care of servants while they amuse themselves flirting and dancing and playing games! You don't accuse this Mr. Kipling everybody talks about of writing what is not true, I conclude?"

"Have you never read a preface to one of his books in which he particularly warns his readers not to judge of the dirt of a room by the sweepings in a corner? Parents in India are much the same as parents in England, and parents in England haven't to contend with exile and climate and long separations"—he paused, feeling he was wasting his breath, and was ashamed of a spiteful little sense of satisfaction when at that moment she tripped and clung to him to save herself a fall.

"Now, if I hadn't been with you"—he could not help reminding her.

"I should have come a cropper, and probably been none the worse," she replied ungratefully. "What were we saying? Oh! about parents in India. Why do you go into the Indian services at all then? You know what to expect!"

"Why do we go into the army and the navy—the worst paid professions on earth? It's an instinct, thank goodness, and with it goes the love of justice and fair play towards the weak and unprotected. It's the keynote of our power all the world over."

"Oh! you are hopeless!" cried Miss Baker. "I call it love of conquest, and position, and power!"

"Call it what you like, don't you shut your eyes to the results—anyway, out here."

[Pg 196]

"The results! Poverty and famine, and a refusal to allow the people to govern themselves, refusal to mix with them socially——"

"Wait a moment," he interrupted, angry with himself because he could not keep silence. "Which in your opinion should govern—the Hindus or the Mohammedans?"

"Of course the Hindus. India is their country."

"The Mohammedans would have something to say to that; or, rather, it would be deeds not words. And how about other nations who would all like to exploit India? We could hardly be expected to keep up an army and a navy to prevent them from doing so if we had no stake in the country."

"Go on," she urged sarcastically. "I am listening."

"When India is in a position to protect herself from internal quarrels and foreign invasion it will be time enough for us to clear out; and as far as social questions go I can assure you they are not at all anxious to mix with us. Their customs and traditions are all opposed to ours.... But it would take weeks to give you even the most superficial idea of the difficulties, and at the end I suppose you wouldn't believe me."

"Oh! I've heard it all over and over again from hide-bound old generals and retired civilians at home, the same time-worn arguments that really mean nothing. However, I am quite ready to believe that you, personally, are well disposed towards the people, and that you do your best for them in spite of the trammels of red tape!"

[Pg 197]

He refrained from an amused expression of gratitude. After all, the girl was actuated by benevolent intention, however befogged, and she was enduring discomforts, almost hardship, in her self-imposed philanthropy, as he realised when they arrived at the Zenana Mission encampment. What wretched little tents, badly pitched, ill-lighted, with a clamouring throng of distressful humanity pressing up to the very flaps. From the tent in the centre came the sound of singing; a familiar hymn tune.

"There now!" exclaimed Miss Baker in vexation. "I'm late for evening prayers. I'm an atheist myself, but I try to fit in with my chief's customs."

"I hope for her sake that you spare her argument on the subject of religion at least!" said Flint with a magnanimous laugh, as he held her hand in farewell. "We shall meet again to-morrow morning."

He watched her disappear into the principal tent, and turned his steps back to his camp, his feelings ajar. Why would these good folk from home interfere in what they knew nothing about. What mischief they made, all unwittingly for the most part, adding to the difficulties already so great for those who were working under conditions but dimly understood even by the faction who trusted their own countrymen, and did not regard the English official as a thief and a bully and a time server....

In spite of Miss Baker's tiresome attitude, he looked forward to seeing her the following morning. She was a stimulating companion and engaging in her way with her boyish figure, her eager grey eyes, her expressive, irregular features.... In time, if they[Pg 198] met often enough, they might become friends—an armed friendship, perhaps, but none the less interesting for that.... What would Stella have thought of her, Stella with her passionate perception of the work that England had done in the past, was doing in the present, would continue to do as long as she was permitted, with honest endeavour, for India. He was conscious of a revival of his old ambitions as he plodded over the uneven track, and far into the night he sat writing, reading, spurred, refreshed as well, by the unexpected diversion of Miss Baker's visit and her violent opinions.

[Pg 199]

CHAPTER II

Miss Baker could ride; not a doubt about that, thought Philip. She sat squarely in her saddle, hands down, right shoulder well back; her habit skirt was very short, she wore a stiff white shirt and collar, and a linen coat. The whole effect was neat and smart and pleasing. How she chattered as they rode over the bare, dusty plain! Some of her theories rather startled her cavalier; for example, she considered it immoral of people to have large families unless they could afford to educate the children highly—this with reference to some friends of Miss Abigail's who had spent the previous day in the Zenana Mission camp on their way to the nearest station, a missionary with his spouse and offspring.

"Did you tell them so?" asked Flint with amused curiosity.

"Yes, of course I did; and I asked them how they were going to provide for three boys and two girls in the future."

"What did they say?"

"They said the Lord would provide, and that the mission granted an extra allowance for each child!"

"Then you can hardly blame them, I suppose."

"I think that clergymen, and doctors, and schoolmasters ought all to be celibates. They should be able to give their whole attention to their work unhampered by domestic affairs."

[Pg 200]

"That is expecting a good deal, surely?"

"I don't see it. Marriage isn't everything. Now if I were a man I should never marry."

"And not being a man?"

"Oh, I dare say I shall marry some day, but my husband would have to share my views on all the important questions of the day, and believe absolutely in the equality of the sexes. At present I hate men."

"Oh, dear!"

"Yes, that is partly why I came out to India, to escape"—she checked herself as though she had been on the brink of a confidence, then added—"to escape worrying attentions."

"Then it was not entirely devotion to the downtrodden masses of this miserable country?" he asked slyly.

She flushed and said with lofty evasion: "I felt India needed me, I wanted to help India. I don't mean to stay out here permanently, of course; only till I have collected enough information and proof to open the eyes of the electors at home. I shall write a book. I think I shall call it 'What I saw in India.'"

"Why not 'The Evil English in the East,'" he suggested amiably. "An alliterative title is always arresting. The one you have thought of might be regarded as almost too uncommon?"

She laughed as though unable to help herself. At least, it seemed she had some saving sense of humour.

"How silly you are! You don't take life seriously at all!"

"Perhaps not;" he spoke carelessly, but he felt[Pg 201] he could have shaken Miss Baker—conceited, self-satisfied monkey!—puffed up with her superficial views, untouched as she was by trouble or experience, so ready to blame and condemn where she did not understand. Of what avail to argue with her, why should he bother about what she thought, if she ever really thought at all! Help India, indeed! Who was she to help or even hinder the great machinery of Eastern administration, and as to her independence of sex—some day she would learn that she was but flying in the face of nature, and he hoped she would suffer for it.

"We must get on," he said; and as they put their horses into a gallop he found himself admiring the way in which she handled the mount he had lent her, a high-spirited young chestnut, unaccustomed to a side-saddle, yet aware that liberties could not be taken with his present rider; Flint noted the strong turn of her wrist, the firmness of her long, slim foot in the stirrup, the poise of her straight young figure. It crossed his mind, but for her wild ideas what a wife she would