"That thou art well gifted, O noble one," the girl replied evasively. The Rani turned a look of displeasure upon the girl. "I did not ask for that," she spoke authoritatively. "Tell me what else do they say of me"? "Some affirm that thou art as beautiful as the opening lotus, but others"-- The girl broke off timidly. "Others," concluded the Rani with a smile. "Others are afraid for their sweethearts, aye Rati"? "Perchance, noble Lady," acquiesced the girl. The Rani's humor displayed itself in a silvery laugh that was echoed by the walls of the court. "Rati," she commanded, "what more do they say"? "O great one," petitioned the girl, "urge me not in this manner, lest thou become offended." "Offended surely will I become unless thou doest as I bid thee." The girl paused a moment, then proceeded fearfully. "They say, O Rani, that thou art vain of thy beauty, and forgettest thy modesty as a Hindu woman by so openly consorting with soldiers and gallants." "Say they so," the Rani cried passionately, stung to the quick by the implication. The girl fell at the Rani's feet and implored her not to visit punishment upon an unwilling offender's head. "Pardon, O Queen. Thou didst force me," she besought fervently. "I am not angry with thee, poor girl," the Rani replied in a softened tone. "But while my actions are seen by all, to what do many of these _zanana_ beauties stoop? The shutters of their windows can best tell. I will show them, these women of such fine sensibilities, how the Rani, for all her pride, observes a custom too much falling into disuse among the rich and great. I have heard that my honored _guru_[3] cometh to aid me with advice, that he even now approaches Jhansi. Go, therefore, order my bearers, so that I may go forth to receive him with all the respect due his office." The girl rose, and departed to obey the Rani's behest. The Rani raised a hand wearily to her forehead. "So much discussion to appease," she murmured, "so much jealousy and envy among those who should assist, rather than thwart the only one who dared to do what has been accomplished. Love! Ah, only it seems do the poor and afflicted truly love the Rani. Even Prasad, who vows by all things sacred that my image beatifies his sleep, hath ever a favor uppermost in mind." Presently a state _duli_[4] with curtains to screen the occupant from view, was carried to the entrance of the palace. To the surprise of her servants the Rani came forth without her _burkha_, or long mantle, invariably worn by native ladies of rank to conceal the whole person in public. She promptly ordered the curtains of the _duli_ to be removed. For a moment her servants hesitated to comply. Never before did they recollect such an order to have been given.