"Without his knowledge. He knows now. I did not wish to compromise him, and I begged my friends to keep my secret until I was baptized. I am of age, and can please myself." He looked up at Wenaston, as if to hear what he had to say, and whether he approved. "You ought to have told Twyford." Ananda's hands were lifted in a little gesture of deprecation. "I was afraid, afraid of losing my new-found happiness. I was afraid of opposition from Bopaul if he knew. I was afraid lest the Professor should want me to write first to my father and obtain his consent. I was afraid----" He paused, and Wenaston remarked with a gravity in which there was concern and doubt-- "You may in truth say that you have taken a momentous step. God give you strength to be no longer afraid." CHAPTER IV Chirapore, the capital of the large native state of Chirakul was situated on plateau land. In the months of March and April the thermometer rose above ninety degrees; but the rest of the year the climate was subtropical in character, and accounted cool as compared with the plains. The plateau was bounded on one side by hills--spurs of the Western Ghats--where the virgin forest nestled in the ravines and valleys, and big game wandered free and unmolested by the war of extermination that progressive man too often wages in his encroachment upon nature. Between the hills and Chirapore lay fields of grain and topes of fruit trees, the latter always green in the subtropical climate; there was a continual passing from seed-time to harvest, from flower to fruit without the paralysing inactivity induced by the hard winters of the temperate zone, or the fiery tropical summers of the torrid regions. The city itself was built upon undulating ground, its centre being the old fort. Before British rule was established the inhabitants of Chirapore lived as near to the fort as was possible, seeking protection from the guns; but in later days, when there was no longer any fear of Mahratta horsemen, they ventured further afield, and the town was extended upon the smiling plateau in nobler lines. Handsome roads lined with private houses or shops intersected the suburbs. Many of the larger dwellings were older than the roads, and stood within their own grounds, a wall dividing them from the public way and ensuring the privacy essential to the happiness of caste families. It was in one of these substantial mansions that Ananda's father, known as Pantulu Iyer, lived. It had belonged to the family for several generations. In course of time Ananda would inherit it with the silk farms and looms by which Pantulu and his immediate ancestors had accumulated a considerable fortune. As is usual with families of good caste and wealth, the members were numerous, including relatives of near and distant degree. There was no lack of room for them in the large house; and many of them gave their services in the domestic work of cooking and housekeeping.