Part 18 (1/2)
”And do you not know ripe from unripe fruit?” I inquired, turning to Eunane.
”How should she?” interposed Eveena. ”I doubt if she ever saw them growing.”
”How so?” I asked of Eunane.
”It is true,” she answered. ”I never went beyond the walls of our playground till I came here; and though there were a few flower-beds in the inner gardens, there were none but shade trees among the turf and concrete yards to which we were confined.”
”I should have known no better,” observed Eveena; ”but being brought up at home, I learned to know all the plants in my father's grounds, which were more various, I believe, than usual.”
”Then,” I said, ”Eunane has a new life and a mult.i.tude of new pleasures before her. Has this peristyle given you your first sight of flowers beyond those in the beds of your Nursery? And have you never seen anything of the world about you?”
”Never,” she said. ”And Eveena's excuse for me is, I believe, perfectly true. The carve must have been stupid, but I knew no better.”
”Well,” I rejoined, ”you must forgive the bird, as we must excuse you for spoiling our breakfast. I will contrive that you shall know more of fruits and flowers before long. In the meantime, you will probably have a different if not a wider view from this roof than from that of your Nursery.”
After all, Eunane's girlhood, typical of the whole life of many Martial women, had not, I suppose, been more dreary or confined than that of children in London, Canton, or Calcutta. But this incident, reminding me how dreary and limited that life was, served to excuse in my eyes the pettiness and poverty of the characters it had produced. A Martial woman's whole experience may well be confined within a few acres, and from the cradle to the grave she may see no more of the world than can be discerned from the roof of her school or her husband's home.
Eunane, with the a.s.sistance of the ambau, busied herself in removing the remains of the meal. The other five, putting on their veils, scampered up the inclined plane to the roof, much like children released from table or from tasks. Turning to Eveena, who still remained beside me, I said--
”Get your veil, and come out with me; I have not yet an idea where we are, and scarcely a notion what the grounds are like.”
She followed me to my apartment, out of which, opened the one she had chosen, and as the window closed behind us she spoke in a tone of appeal--
”Do not insist on my accompanying you. As you bade me always speak my thought, I had much rather you would take one of the others.”
”You professed,” I said, ”to take especial pleasure in a walk with me, and this time I will be careful that you are not overtired.”
”Of course I should like it,” she answered; ”but it would not be just.
Please let me this time remain to take my part of the household duties, and make myself acquainted with the house. Choose your companion among the others, whom you have scarcely noticed yet.”
Preferring not only Eveena's company, but even my own, to that of any of the six, and feeling myself not a little dependent on her guidance and explanations, I remonstrated. But finding that her sense of justice and kindness would yield to nothing short of direct command, I gave way.
”You forget _my_ pleasure,” I said at last. ”But if you will not go, you must at least tell me which I am to take. I will not pretend to have a choice in the matter.”
”Well, then,” she answered, ”I should be glad to see you take Eunane.
She is, I think, the eldest, apparently the most intelligent and companionable, and she has had one mortification already she hardly deserved.”
”And is much the prettiest,” I added maliciously. But Eveena was incapable of even understanding so direct an appeal to feminine jealousy.
”I think so,” she said; ”much the prettiest among us. But that will make no difference under her veil.”
”And must she keep down her veil,” I asked, ”in our own grounds?”
Eveena laughed. ”Wherever she might be seen by any man but yourself.”
”Call her then,” I answered.
Eveena hesitated. But having successfully carried her own way on the main question, she would not renew her remonstrances on a minor point; and finding her about to join the rest, she drew Eunane apart. Eunane came up to me alone, Eveena having busied herself in some other part of the house. She approached slowly as if reluctant, and stood silent before me, her manner by no means expressive of satisfaction.
”Eveena thought,” I said, ”that you would like to accompany me; but if not, you may tell her so; and tell her in that case that she _must_ come.”