Darobti at first did not appear to hear the question, nor to understand it when she did hear. When Alicia had repeated her inquiry five or six times, it only elicited the reply, “Premi knows nothing; Premi grinds corn.” Saying this, Darobti turned away, and sauntered off to another part of the building. Was it to teach that song to the children that Alicia sang it again and again, until little lips began to catch the refrain? If such were her only object, why were the Englishwoman’s eyes so constantly wandering from her auditors in the direction of that lofty terraced roof? Alicia sang in English as well as Urdu. She lingered in the fort longer than she would otherwise have done, in hopes of catching a sight of Premi’s face, with the rosy blush upon it. Alicia was disappointed in her hope, and at last quitted the gallery over the court, where she had now no auditors but the children. As she descended the dark staircase, Alicia almost expected to hear Premi’s step behind her. As Harold’s wife was crossing the inner court-yard she again paused to look up and listen for that “Joyful, joyful!” from above. She heard only the laugh of the children and the snort of a buffalo in the outer yard. All the way back to the bungalow Alicia could think of nothing but the incident which had occurred. She was so eager to tell of it that it was a real disappointment to her to find nobody in the veranda, and the bungalow empty. It is one of the trials of the first year of mission life to feel idle when others are busy, lonely because companions are out at work. There is the uncomfortable sensation of being like a drone in the hive. The remedy is study of the language; but Alicia felt too unsettled and impatient to sit down to grammar, and struggle with strange idioms and incomprehensible combinations of verbs. She sat fanning herself, glancing up at the clock every two minutes, and wishing for Harold’s return. The striking of that clock—for Robin had succeeded in setting it going—was the first thing to rouse Alicia from her dreamy, indolent mood. “It would be far better if, instead of wasting my time thus, I spent more of it on my knees,” thought Alicia. “A baptism is to take place to-morrow, the first baptism in Talwandi, and I have never yet in my private prayers remembered the youth over whom my Harold is rejoicing with trembling. I have not prayed earnestly, and as one who believes in the power of prayer, for poor Premi. I am neglecting one of the best means of helping those who toil in the mission field, whilst grieving that I can do in it next to nothing. I am thinking what I may accomplish when I can speak to natives in their Urdu tongue, and care too little to pour out to God my hearts desires in my own. Lord, forgive my selfish neglect, and shed on Thy feeble child more of the spirit of prayer, specially of intercessory prayer!”