Prev | Current Page 253 | Next

Wylie, I. A. R. (Ida Alexa Ross), 1885-1959

"The Native Born or, the Rajah's People"


"I can't think what we have been called here for," Mrs. Cary protested
loudly; "and from the way we have been locked in, we might be in a
state of siege. I know I shall faint in a minute. Beatrice, pass me my
salts, child."
Her daughter obeyed mechanically, without moving her eyes, which were
fixed in front of her. Colonel Carmichael, who was seated at the far
end of the table, opposite the Rajah, smiled good-naturedly.
"If _you_ feel yourself justified in grumbling, what about me, Mrs.
Cary?" he said. "You at least are a share-holder, and I suppose there
are some formalities to be gone through, but what I have to do with
the business I can not imagine."
"Business!" groaned Mrs. Berry from his right. "That's the silliest
part of it all! What's the good of getting me to talk business? I
don't understand business; I never did, and never shall. Why doesn't
Mr. Travers come? I'm sure I have been waiting quite ten minutes."
"Perhaps the Rajah can give us a clue to the mystery," the Colonel
suggested. "Rajah, don't you think the ladies could be allowed their
liberty? I can not think that their presence is so essential."
Nehal Singh looked up. From the moment he had exchanged nothing more
than a brief salutation with the four Europeans, he had sat with his
head bent over some papers, reading, or pretending to read. The months
had brought a new expression to his face. Pain had cut her lines into
the broad forehead; anxiety met the Colonel's questioning gaze from
eyes which had once flashed happy confidence and enthusiasm.


Pages:
241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265