Nearer and nearer they came, attracted by the great feminine quality, until in answer to Rose's nod of welcome and encouragement they squatted near, yet far, gathered in as it were upon themselves, apart even from that other woman; even from her, with the cares of coming motherhood writ clear upon her, and causing her to look at those other mothers with kindly, friendly eyes. 'Ari bahin!' said one with a nudge to her neighbour. 'Tis for sure she who played bat and ball last year like a boy. Wah! that is over; she knows her work now.' 'I trow not,' replied another shrilly. 'She hath been sitting with the potter's eyes upon her this half hour past. She is bad, caring but for her pleasure.' 'Mayhap she knows not,' said an older voice, 'and they have no mothers, these ones, nor mothers-in-law. Yea! 'tis true. My man went to dig for the sahibs the year there was no corn in the land, and he hath told me. They marry of themselves and there is none to see to them that they fall not into ignorant mischief. It is fool's work.' 'No mothers-in-law?' tittered a bold-faced lump. 'Ai teri! that is no fool's work.' But the elder woman had risen, to stand a few steps nearer Rose, looking down at her with dignified wonder. 'May the Lord send a son,' she began, going to the very root of the matter without preamble. 'I will take what He chooses to send me, mother,' replied Rose, smiling. 'Tsi-si-si!' The matron's pliant forefinger wagged _sideways_, in that most impressive gesture of denial never seen out of India. 'Mention not such things, my daughter,' went on the grave voice, 'lest He take thee at the word. Then what wouldst say? And see! Go no more to the potter's yard. It is not safe. Wouldst have the son come to thee with his mark on the breast? I trow not.' They had come forward one by one to cluster round the speaker, their dark assenting eyes on Rose. ''Tis not to be helped, though,' put in another. 'Do I not know? I, Jewun, whose son died of it this year; yet I remember the old ways and my mother's counsel. Lo! it is Fate; naught else. And 'tis better to crack and be done with it. Then folk know. Not like my new milk-jar this day. Sound to sight and touch, yet six good quarts of milk spilled on the ground, as it crumbled like sand ere a body could get a hand to it. The old man shall give me another in its place. It is not fair.' 'Nay! Mai Jewun,' put in a third, 'a pot comes to pieces ever; if not one, then another way, when it is tired of going to the well for water. Thou hast naught to complain about. Ai sisters! hither returns the sahib! He will be angry that we have spoken to his mem.' 'He will not be angry,' protested Rose; but the thought was beyond them. They were off swiftly, yet sedately, only the elder woman pausing to waggle her finger again, and say, 'Go not to the potter's. It is not well. I, Junto, mother of seven, say so.'