It was not beauty that she found. It was a wrinkled anxious-faced old woman, who rose in a _salaam_, then literally prostrated herself at the girl's feet. Lesley had been long enough in India, now, to judge rightly of the poverty shown in the dress. The blue-striped trousers, tight to the knee and full above, the short whity-brown cotton veil were to be seen--more or less dirty, more or less ragged--in every poor Mohammedan quarter. Yet there was something refined in the worn face, blurred with recent tears, which looked into hers apprehensively, as the owner rose to _salaam_ again, leaving a small roll of paper bound with coloured silks upon the marble floor. Lesley was puzzled for an instant; then it flashed upon her that this must be some belated petitioner for justice in the old style, who had heard, probably, that the Lord-_sahib_ was in the garden. Such rolls of paper--without the silken tie, however--were often thrust into the carriage when Sir George was in it. So she hunted round her sparse vocabulary, but finally fell back on the first phrase most newcomers to India learn, namely, '_Kya mankta?_' (what do you want?) It is an admirable beginning, though, unfortunately, the sympathetic curiosity of it seldom becomes impersonal to the speaker! It produced another _salaam_, and such a flood of polished speech that Lesley retired to English incontinently. 'Is it for the Lord-_sahib_?' she asked hurriedly, picking up the roll and pointing with it to the distant summer-house. The title produced a fourth _salaam_, and Lesley, with some relief, stooped under the fretted arch again, and began to retrace her steps towards the others. Sir George, she knew, had been doubtful if business would allow him to put in an appearance at the entertainment at all; but some one would be sure to know what message ought to be sent back to the petitioner, who, as Lesley left the bird-cage, settled herself down in it again to wait, with great precision. 'Read it, some one, please!' said Lady Arbuthnot, after she had undone the quaint little tasselled silk cord which was fastened with a loop and button round the roll of paper. But the order was no such easy matter to obey. So far as the conventional '_Arz fidwe yih hai_' (This is the request of your petitioner) went, the little group of administrators who responded to her request were fluent enough. After that came complaints of the character, and more than one suggestion that only a regular native reader could be expected to decipher such writing, and that it would be best to hand the document over to the office, which would be sure to make something of it,--a remark which made Lesley, who was listening, wonder whether the accuracy of that something was to be considered at all! Grace Arbuthnot, however, listening also, let a curious smile come to her face; a smile that gave it an unusual tenderness. 'Where is Mr. Raymond?' she said suddenly. 'Going, did you say? Will some one call him back, please!'