He hurried away to his room to get rid of the powdery ochre blown up from the laterite roads. Mrs. Hulver glanced after him with as much disapproval as she dared to show. "Next to schoolmasters, missionaries should be particular in being punctual. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'Men should be valued like watches for the time they keep.'" "And he was quite right from a military point of view. Will you see about the tea, please, Mrs. Hulver!" "It's being made, miss. I've got my eye on the matey. It will be ready as soon as Mr. Alderbury is ready for it. Like as not he will read those letters that have come while he has been away and forget all about his tea." Mrs. Hulver looked at Eola as much as to say, "And you too." She continued: "A man with a lot of business needs a good head. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'Drive your business with a firm hand and a clear head or your business will drive you." Alderbury's appearance checked the flow of Mrs. Hulver's wisdom, and she departed to her room. As he received his cup from Eola's hand he said: "You would like to hear how I fared, I am sure." "Yes, please; tell me all about it." The words did not ring quite true; they were wanting in sympathy, and seemed to the quick sensitive ear of the missionary to be spoken more out of polite curiosity than real interest. He glanced at her and tried to swallow some of the scalding liquid with the aid of the teaspoon. The innate love of fighting in a good cause rose within him, and he determined to try conclusions with her. She should become interested, and more. He would conquer her indifference and rouse her sympathy. "I had no end of a difficulty in seeing the parents. It was the father I wanted to get at and he was very inaccessible." "You had an interview with Ananda, of course. I knew him in England, and should like to hear how he is getting on. I don't care a bit about his stupid old father. Why can't the father let the son alone, and allow him to take his own line?" "The step involves so much." "If that is so, then Ananda shouldn't have taken it." Alderbury put down his cup suddenly, his mind entirely diverted from the business of tea-drinking by her words. "You don't mean that you really think he ought not to have become a Christian?" he inquired, in a grave voice that had lost the lightness with which he had greeted her on arrival home from his visit. The seriousness of his manner awoke a spirit of perverseness. "I am of the opinion that he might have had more consideration for his father's feelings," she said, with a levity that jarred. "Why should existing relations that seemed so satisfactory be disturbed?" Then, as Alderbury remained silent, she continued: "There is a time for all things. It is too soon to ask educated India to accept Christianity; the way is studded with such colossal difficulties. Don't you often feel that you are fighting against almost insuperable obstacles?"