From his companion his thoughts went to her brother. He distrusted Bopaul's cynicism, mild and harmless though it might be; but he could not help admiring the force of character in the man who had struck whilst the iron was hot. If Bopaul had not handed her over personally and assured him that all was well, Alderbury would never have ventured to take the girl away. The parents had probably been urged to give a consent, and before they could withdraw it their son had taken action to carry out the intention. It was evident that he revolted against the Hindu system of widowhood, and with his modern enlightenment desired reform. This was his method of protest and it was to be commended. It was also in its way a mark of the philanthropy that is entering the Hinduism of the present day, one of the attributes of Christianity which Brahmanism is ready to adopt into its system and claim as its own. More than two hours passed during which Mayita, shrouded in her saree, nestled in the corner of the big motor car. Alderbury returned to the perusal of his letters and forgot her very existence. So still and silent was she that she might have been one of the leather cushions instead of a human waif. They passed the boundary of the native State and sped through British territory. In another half hour they entered the little town that had been Christianised. Alderbury put away his letters and kept his eyes on the road, that he might not miss the smiles and nods of the villagers as they welcomed him back. The mission house was a large rambling bungalow with thatched roof and wide verandahs. In the same compound stood the school and orphanage. At a little distance was the church shining with marble whiteness in the afternoon sun. As the car drew up under a porch made of rough square stone pillars and palm-leaf roof, Alderbury thought of the handsome portico of the college house, a very different building. He jumped out of the car with his habitual impetuosity forgetting his companion. Mrs. Hulver's words were in his mind. A house without a woman was only a house. It was quite true although his careful servant had not forgotten to prepare a late afternoon tea. He noted the table set in the verandah with the earthen tea-pot and the thick cups that bore the mark of many camping expeditions through his district. Very different, was the table from the dainty arrangement in another verandah, where the figure of the tea-maker was set in a background of ipomea and bignonia. "Bring tea quickly, boy," he said as he passed on towards his sitting-room in search of the letters that should have come by the morning post. The servant glanced after him and then held up his hand to arrest the figure that followed. "Wait, lady, until the master calls," he said respectfully; and Mayita stood listening and trembling in the verandah.