Roberts thought, and
certainly he had been able to relieve a great deal of their
physical misery. Would he be justified in writing to Calcutta?
Dr. Roberts thought about it very long and very seriously. In the
end he believed that he would not be justified, at least until the
year was over of which the Maharajah spoke. Then if His Highness
did not keep his promise, Dr. Roberts would see about it.
So the year went by; the months when the sun blazed straight across
the sky overhead, and everybody slept at noonday--the months when a
gray sheet of rain hung from the clouds for days together, and the
months when all the Maharajah's dominions were full of splendid
yellow lights and pleasant winds--when the teak wood trees dropped
their big dusty leaves, and the nights were sharply cold, and
Rajputana pretended that it was winter. Dr. Roberts and Sunni were
very well then, but Moti shrivelled up and coughed the day through,
and the Maharajah, when he went out to drive, wrapped himself up in
Cashmere shawls, head and ears and all.
The boys learnt as much English as could possibly be expected of
them; Sunni learnt more, because Dr. Roberts made it a point that
he should. Besides, he became a great friend of Dr. Roberts, who
began by begging that Sunni might be allowed to ride with him, then
to drive with him, and finally to spend two or three days at a time
with him.
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