"
"Dear me, what are you so annoyed about?" Mrs. Cary inquired, with
irritating solicitude. "How was I to know you were seriously
contemplating the Rajah's conversion? I'm sure it's very nice of you.
Child, don't pull all those roses to pieces!"
Beatrice dropped the flowers impatiently.
"It's more likely that he will convert me," she muttered, but the
remark fell on unheeding ears.
"I wish you would let me tell Mrs. Berry about it," Mrs. Cary went on.
"It might make quite a nice impression, and stop her saying
disagreeable things. Of course, if your intimacy with His Highness was
due to your desire to bring him to a nice Christian state, it would be
quite excusable. I might even ask Mr. Berry for some of those tracts
he is always distributing among the natives."
It was Beatrice's turn to laugh. Her laugh had a disagreeable ring.
"For the Rajah? I wonder how he would reconcile them with all I have
been telling him about love, and pity, and tolerance? Besides, my dear
mother, diplomatist as you are, don't you see that it wouldn't have
the least effect? Do you think the most kindly thinking person in this
Station would believe for an instant that _I_ would ever convert
anyone? Of course I should be seen through at once. They would
say--and perfectly correctly, too--that I was just fooling the Rajah
for my own purposes."
"What are your purposes?" Mrs. Cary demanded.
Beatrice raised her eyebrows.
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