But this
woman was neither an inferior nor a slave. Her free, erect carriage,
steadfast, fearless eyes proclaimed the equal. So much his instinct taught
him in those brief moments, and his eager curiosity concerning her grew
and deepened. Every now and again his gaze sought her face, drinking in
with an almost passionate thirst the fine detail of her profile, compared
to which his dreams were poor and lifeless. Once it chanced that she also
glanced at him, and that they looked at each other for less than a
breathing space full in the eyes.
"I fear you are angry, Your Highness," she said earnestly. "I must have
offended against your laws even more than I know."
"Why do you think I am angry?" he asked.
"You have scarcely spoken."
"Forgive me! That is no sign of anger. I am still overcome with the
strangeness of it all. You are the first English person I have ever met."
She stood still, with an exclamation of surprise.
"Is that possible? I thought all Indian princes mixed with English people.
Many, indeed, go to England to be educated--"
"So I have heard," he broke in, with a faint haughtiness. "I am not one of
them."
"Yet you speak the language so perfectly!" she said.
A gleam of naive pleasure shone out of his dark eyes.
"I am glad you think so. My--one of my ministers taught me."
They walked on again. Here and there she stopped to look at some curious
plant--always a little in advance of him--so that he had opportunity to
study the hundred things about her which confirmed his wondering,
increasing admiration.
Pages:
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58