"I understand, sir. We are to let Mr. Ananda alone. It shall be as you wish, of course. I pity him, I'm sure; but all the same, I would rather not be mixed up with his change of religion. It's turning out a bigger job than he thought. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'When a man bites off a bigger bit than he can chew, he can't look for any assistance from other men's teeth.'" The school bell rang and Wenaston, punctuality itself, turned away to obey its call. Mrs. Hulver hastened to add her last word which, as usual, was the reflected wisdom of one of the departed. "As William--that was my third--used to say after I had scolded him for leaning a little too far over towards his weakness: 'A stormy morning brings a clear evening, Maria, me dear, so perhaps your breath has not been wasted.' Everything will come right in the end if you give it time." Then, as Wenaston hurried away, she turned to her son. "William, you sit in the back verandah whilst I change my dress. We'll take a walk in the town and look at the boutiques in the bazaar." Twenty minutes later Mrs. Hulver issued from her bedroom a very different figure from the white clothed housekeeper, who with cook and butler behind her, went marketing in the morning. Even William, junior, who had just come from London, was impressed by the glossy purple silk that "stood by itself," the white lace scarf and floral bonnet; to say nothing of the odds and ends of glittering jewellery that adorned her ample bust. Mother and son, in purple silk and scarlet uniform, presented a patch of colour on the green landscape that was arresting to the most careless eye. The sensation created in the town was considerable. It was a kind of triumphal progress. Being fluent in the native language she explained who the stranger was, introducing him to the merchants sitting behind their stalls and to the few Eurasians who lived in Chirapore. Bopaul, sauntering along the street, was attracted by the sight of a British soldier, and stopped to inquire his name. Mrs. Hulver hastened to explain with maternal pride and returned the compliment by asking about the identity of the questioner. The sun touched the horizon before she thought of home. "Time to be going back, William. As your father used to say: 'Keep time as if it was your best friend, and take care you don't kill it or waste it or lose it." CHAPTER XV Eola sat with her brother after dinner as usual at the end of the verandah where there was shelter from the night air. Wenaston read, and Eola finding his society dull, retired early to her room. The servants had gone to their go-downs at the back of the compound to eat their evening meal. The cicalas whirred in the foliage of the oleanders, and a brown owl screamed in its shikarring flight over the roof of the house. Above the noises of the night was heard a step on the carriage drive.