LITMIR.BIZ

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a web unwove,

       A bud withheld from sun or bee,

       An alien in the courts of Love,

       And priestess of his shrine is she.

      We love her, but we laugh the while;

       We laugh, but sobs are mixed with laughter;

       Our sister hath no time to smile,

       She knows not what must follow after.

      Wind of the South, arise and blow,

       From beds of spice thy locks shake free;

       Breathe on her heart that she may know,

       Breathe on her eyes that she may see.

      Alas! we vex her with our mirth,

       And maze her with most tender scorn,

       Who stands beside the gates of Birth,

       Herself a child--a child unborn!

      Our sister sayeth such and such,

       And we must bow to her behests;

       Our sister toileth overmuch,

       Our little maid that hath no breasts.

       —From Libretto of Naulahka.

      'Has the miss sahib any orders?' asked Dhunpat Rai, with Oriental calmness, as Kate turned toward the woman of the desert, staying herself against her massive shoulder.

      Kate simply shook her head with closed lips.

      'It is very sad,' said Dhunpat Rai thoughtfully, as though the matter were one in which he had no interest; 'but it is on account of religious bigotry and intolerance which is prevalent mania in these parts. Once--twice before I have seen the same thing. About powders, sometimes; and once they said that the graduated glasses were holy vessels, and zinc ointment was cow-fat. But I have never seen all the hospital disembark simultaneously. I do not think they will come back; but my appointment is State appointment,' he said, with a bland smile, 'and so I shall draw my offeeshal income as before.'

      Kate stared at him. 'Do you mean that they will never come back?' she asked falteringly.

      'Oh yes--in time--one or two; two or three of the men when they are hurt by tigers, or have ophthalmia; but the women--no. Their husbands will never allow. Ask that woman!'

      Kate bent a piteous look of inquiry upon the woman of the desert, who, stooping down, took up a little sand, let it trickle through her fingers, brushed her palms together, and shook her head. Kate watched these movements despairingly.

      'You see it is all up--no good,' said Dhunpat Rai, not unkindly, but unable to conceal a certain expression of satisfaction in a defeat which the wise had already predicted. 'And now what will your honour do? Shall I lock up dispensary, or will you audit drug accounts now?'

      Kate waved him off feebly. 'No, no! Not now. I must think. I must have time. I will send you word. Come, dear one,' she added in the vernacular to the woman of the desert, and hand in hand they went out from the hospital together.

      The sturdy Rajput woman caught her up like a child when they were outside, and set her upon her horse, and tramped doggedly alongside, as they, set off together toward the house of the missionary.

      'And whither wilt thou go?' asked Kate, in the woman's own tongue.

      'I was the first of them all,' answered the patient being at her side; 'it is fitting therefore that I should be the last. Where thou guest I will go--and afterward what will fall will fall.'

      Kate leaned down and took the woman's hand in hers with a grateful pressure.

      At the missionary's gate she had to call up her courage not to break down. She had told Mrs. Estes so much of her hopes for the future, had dwelt so lovingly on all that she meant to teach these helpless creatures, had so constantly conferred with her about the help she had fancied herself to be daily bringing to them, that to own that her work had fallen to this ruin was unspeakably bitter. The thought of Tarvin she fought back. It went too deep.

      But, fortunately, Mrs. Estes seemed not to be at home, and a messenger from the Queen Mother awaited Kate to demand her presence at the palace with the Maharaj Kunwar.

      The woman of the desert laid a restraining hand on her arm, but Kate shook it off.

      'No, no, no! I must go. I must do something,' she exclaimed almost fiercely, 'since there is still some one who will let me. I must have work. It is my only refuge, kind one. Go you on to the palace.'

      The woman yielded silently, and trudged on up the dusty road, while Kate sped into the house and to the room where the young Prince lay.

      'Lalji,' she said, bending over him, 'do you feel well enough to be lifted into the carriage and taken over to see your mother?'

      'I would rather see my father,' responded the boy from the sofa, to which he had been transferred as a reward for the improvement he had made since yesterday. 'I wish to speak to my father upon a most important thing.'

      'But your mother hasn't seen you for so long, dear.'

      'Very well; I will go.'

      'Then I will tell them to get the carriage ready.'

      Kate turned to leave the room.

      'No, please; I will have my own. Who is without there?'

      'Heaven-born, it is I,' answered the deep voice of a trooper.

      'Achcha! Ride swiftly, and tell them to send down my barouche and escort. If it is not here in ten minutes, tell Saroop Singh that I will cut his pay and blacken his face before all my men. This day I go abroad again.'

      'May the mercy of God be upon the heavenborn for ten thousand years,' responded the voice from without, as the trooper heaved himself into the saddle and clattered away.

      By the time that the Prince was ready, a lumbering equipage, stuffed with many cushions, waited at the door. Kate and Mrs. Estes half-helped and half-carried the child into it, though he strove to stand on his feet in the verandah and acknowledge the salute of his escort as befitted a man.

      'Ahi! I am very weak,' he said, with a little laugh, as they drove to the palace. 'Certainly it seems to myself that I shall never get well in Rhatore.'

      Kate put her arm about him and drew him closer to her.

      'Kate,' he continued, 'if I ask anything of my father, will you say that that thing is good for me?'

      Kate, whose thoughts were still bitter and far away, patted his shoulder vaguely as she lifted her tear-stained eyes toward the red height on which the palace stood. 'How can I tell, Lalji?' She smiled down into his upturned face.

      'But it is a most wise thing.'

      'Is it?' asked she fondly.

      'Yes; I have thought it out by myself. I am myself a Raj Kumar, and I would go to the Raj Kumar College, where they train the sons of princes to become kings. That is only at Ajmir; but I must go and learn, and fight, and ride with the other princes of Rajputana, and then I shall be altogether a man. I am going to the Raj Kumar College at Ajmir, that I may learn about the world. But you shall see how it is wise. The world looks very big since I have been ill. Kate, how big is the world which you have seen across the Black Water? Where is Tarvin Sahib? I have wished to see him too. Is Tarvin Sahib angry with me or with you?'

      He plied her with a hundred questions till they halted before one of the gates in the flank of the palace that led to his mother's wing. The woman of the desert rose from the ground beside it, and held out her arms.

      'I heard the message come,' she said to Kate, 'and I knew what was required. Give me the child to carry in. Nay, my Prince, there is no cause for fear. I am of good blood.'

      'Women of good blood walk veiled, and do not speak in the streets,' said the child doubtfully.

      'One law for thee and thine, and another

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