THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 SIDNEY TEACHING SITARA.
 
 THE 
 
 BISHOP'S CONVERSION 
 
 BY 
 
 ELLEN BLACKMAR MAXWELL 
 
 WITH 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 By JAMES M. THOBURN 
 
 Missi'jiiarv Ilishop for India and Malaysia 
 
 NEW YORK: HUNT & EATON 
 
 CINCINNATI- CRANSTON & CURTS 
 
 1893
 
 Copyright, 1892. l>y 
 
 HUNT & EATON, 
 
 NEW YORK.
 
 TO 
 
 ALLAN JAMES MAXWELL. 
 
 "And indeed he seems to me 
 Scarce other than my own ideal knight, 
 Who reverenced his conscience as his king; ; 
 Whose glory was redressing human wrong; 
 Who spoke no slander, no, nor listened to it ; 
 Wlio loved one only and who clave to her 
 
 We have lost him : he is gone : 
 
 We know him now : all narrow jealousies 
 Are silent : and we see him as he moved. 
 How modest, kindly, all accomplished, wise; 
 With what sublime repression of himself, 
 Not swaying to this facti m or to that ; 
 Not making his high place the lawless perch 
 Of winged ambitions, iv r a vantage-ground 
 For pleasure : but through all this tract of years 
 Wearing the white flower of a blameless life." 
 
 Tennyson.
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SIDNEY TEACHING SITARA FRONTISPIECE 
 
 A NATIVE "WATER-DRAWER 45 
 
 THE LANGUAGES OF INDIA 62 
 
 EMPLOYES OF A MISSION PUBLISHING HOUSE 68 
 
 A STREET IN THE NATIVE CITY 78 
 
 IN THE COOK HOUSE 104 
 
 SlTARA 132 
 
 THE GARDEN PARTY 164 
 
 RUINS OF THE RESIDENCY, LUCKNOW 176 
 
 GROUP OF FOUR PICTURES. "A NATIVE PUEACIII:I;,'' "AYAH," 
 
 " YOUNG BOY," " NATIVE WOMAN " 192 
 
 A HINDOO TEMPLE 232 
 
 NAINI TAL. AMONC THE HILLS 256 
 
 A CHURCH FOR ENGLISH-SPEAKING PEOI-L:: 205 
 
 MOHAMMEDAN ARCHITECTURE 328 
 
 MRS. CLINTON AND LILLIAN IN A ZENANA 346 
 
 A GIRLS' SCHOOL.. . 370
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAGE 
 
 THE PLAY. . 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LUCKNO\V ............................... 23 
 
 CHAPTER IH. 
 LKR AND SHAWL MKRCIIANT ........................... 44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A MISSIONARY PRINTING PHKSS. . 69 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 IN THE BA/AI:. . 73 
 
 CHAPTER vi. 
 
 OPENING lIorsi-:KKKiM\(;. . . 91 
 
 CI1AI.TEII VII. 
 VISITING MISSION AI;II-:S. . .... 112 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 MAKING CALLS., . . 135 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE STORY OF SITARA.. . 145 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TlIK VISIT OP THE PUINCE.. . 162
 
 6 CONTENTS . 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE TALUKDAR'S RECEPTION. . . 180 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 HOUSEKEEPING CARES . 1 98 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE MAHABIR MELA.., . 218 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 IN THE ZENANAS 248 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SlTARA.. . 275 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 DANGEROUS ENEMIES . 295 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 ROKEWOOD'S ILLNESS.. . 307 
 
 CHAPTER. XVII I. 
 CARXTON AND SIDNEY . 827 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 SMALLPOX . 343 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 HOME AGAIN . 360
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IT lias long been a cause of regret to missionaries in 
 the foreign field that people at home seemed so 
 prone to form incorrect ideas, both of their method 
 of work and style of living. Many honest and earnest 
 attempts have been made to correct the false impres 
 sions which have become current, both in England 
 and America, but these have not always proved suc 
 cessful. The root of the difficulty is found in the fact 
 that most persons measure all conditions of life and 
 labor by the same standard without making allowance 
 for the thousand points of difference which must pre 
 vail between people and countries so radically differ 
 ent as those found in the Oriental and Occidental 
 worlds. To this must be added the fact that for two 
 generations past a false ideal of missionary character 
 and missionary work lias been devoutly cherished both 
 in England and America. The missionary is very 
 much like other good men. His work is a very prac 
 tical work, and all romantic ideals, or exasperated 
 
 * ' OO 
 
 ideas of angelic perfection, must be thrown to the 
 winds by the practical observer who wishes to get a 
 correct view of missionary life as it is. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell has seen much and has served well in 
 the missionary field, and has well earned a right to be
 
 IMTKODLTT.OX. 
 
 heard on the subject which she has chosen. Itibteatl 
 of discussing in an abstract manner the various phases 
 of her subject, she has wisely chosen to bring it in a 
 more practical way before her readers by introducing 
 scenes from actual life, which illustrate the most im 
 portant phases of missionary life as she has seen it. 
 Many of the incidents used in the course of her story 
 are recitals of actual occurrences, and are by no means 
 the creation of the imagination alone. Such a pres 
 entation of various views of missionary life and 
 labor can hardly fail to do much good, not only in 
 correcting false impressions, but in creating better 
 views and more healthy feelings among a large class 
 of good Christian people who are numbered among 
 the supporters of missions. Detached statements of 
 fact can never be made to impress the average mind 
 of reading people so vividly or forcibly as pictures 
 drawn from actual life, and especially when drawn by 
 one present at the scene of action. 
 
 Practical missionaries have nothing to fear and 
 much to hope from a truthful presentation of their 
 work to the Christian public. It is a work which 
 will bear inspection, or perhaps it would be more to 
 the point to say that it demands inspection. Chris 
 tian people in America should make it a matter of 
 personal duty to acquaint themselves with everything 
 that pertains to this, the leading enterprise of the 
 coming century, the most sacred enterprise of all 
 centuries. The prosecution and completion of this 
 task is the supreme duty which our Saviour has in 
 trusted to his people everywhere a task which takes 
 precedence of every other, and must hold its prece 
 dence until the kingdoms and nations of earth shall
 
 INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 all have bowed to the scepter of our great Iminannel. 
 All the Churches, the Church universal, are awaking, 
 late, it is true, but none the less certainly, to a sense 
 of a long-neglected duty and an appreciation of a 
 long-rejected opportunity. In the new and brighter 
 era just at hand no intelligent Christian will be able 
 to afford to live in ignorance of the true character of 
 the great missionary movement among the nations. 
 Indeed, no such Christian can afford to live in igno 
 rance of this movement in this closing decade of the 
 nineteenth century, and the need of a copious and ac 
 curate missionary literature has never been greater 
 than at the present hour. 
 
 It so 'happens that at the present time India is the 
 most prominent of the great mission fields of the 
 world, and it is therefore fitting that Mrs. Maxwell 
 should have chosen that great empire as the field from 
 which to draw her illustrations. In many important 
 respects, however, these sketches will be found to 
 represent faithfully scenes' in China and other fields. 
 All missions to non-Christian countries possess many 
 important features in common. The missionary's 
 problems in one country reappear in another, and 
 hence all foreign missionaries are drawn together 
 when they meet as if by the bonds of family relation 
 ship. To defend and help one is to hold up the weary 
 arms of a hundred others. It may confidently be 
 hoped, therefore, that Mrs. Maxwell's effort to speak 
 a word for her fellow-workers in India will prove of 
 great service to all workers in all lands who belong to 
 the great and growing host of foreign missionaries. 
 
 August \1, 1892. J. M. TlIOBCRN.
 
 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TIIK FLAX. 
 
 IT was a cozy breakfast room, cozy as can bo known 
 only by those fortunate people wlio live where 
 gleaming frost and snow out of doors make it possible 
 to have bright fires, warm curtains, soft cushions, 
 and thick carpets indoors. True, it was only October, 
 but a fire, though not necessary, added to the creature 
 comfort, and, as Mrs. Clinton said, "gave expression 
 to a room." Perhaps the room had an expression 
 without the fire ; if it had, that expression was clearly 
 elegance, modified by good taste and economy. 
 
 Harmonizing well with the room were Bishop 
 Clinton, well-looking, portly, and comfortable, reading 
 his foreign mail with his coffee, and Mrs. Clinton, a 
 quick-thinking, slight, nervous, typical American 
 woman, whose ambition outran her energy. 
 
 The Bishop looked across the white linen and dainty 
 breakfast service and said, folding a London religious 
 
 ' O O 
 
 paper : 
 
 "My dear, this talk of luxury and ineffectual work 
 among missionaries in India is really doing the cause 
 much harm. I have half a mind to throw myself
 
 12 Tun r>isnoi>'s 
 
 into tlie breach, and put a stop cither to the talk or to 
 the cause of it. I could go on to India after finishing 
 the work in Europe." 
 
 "Yes ; it might be a very good thing to do if travel 
 ing were not so very expensive," said she. 
 
 " Still, if I were to go part of the way very cheaply 
 it might be feasible, and it would give me a chance 
 to speak with authority to our people here. I might 
 also be of great service to the missionaries themselves, 
 for no doubt they are seriously at fault, though I do 
 not credit all that is said. Certainly the heroic spirit 
 has died out of missions, and there must be some bad 
 management, some want of economy of time and 
 money, else no one would dare make such assertions 
 as are being made and printed everywhere. Even 
 the secular papers, glad of the opportunity, are taking 
 it up and making much of "the failure of missions," 
 as they call it, through the mistakes and failures of 
 missionaries." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton's eyes had a suspicious flash, and a 
 wave of color went over her face as she said with some 
 acrimony in her tones : 
 
 " What very stupid people the missionary secre 
 taries must be to choose unfaithful and unwise men 
 to send out on such important work ! However, they 
 must be wise in some lines, else they would not be 
 able to live in luxury on the pitiful allowance they re 
 ceive. I would be very glad to live a luxurious life 
 on our allowance, which is many times greater than 
 theirs, if I only knew ho\v." 
 
 "Why, my dear, my dear!" said the Bishop, in 
 mild astonishment, " it is not a case that calls for such 
 s'rong feeling ; and, besides, you underrate their allow-
 
 THE PLAN. 13 
 
 ance, which is much better than many poor ministers 
 have in our own land/' 
 
 " Allow me to say that I think it is a case that calls for 
 some feeling," she said, referring to the first part of his 
 remark; "for I have been tortured beyond endurance 
 during the last three months on this very line. The 
 letters of inquiry I have received as secretary of our 
 branch, and the questions I have had to answer in re 
 gard to this matter have worn my patience to shreds ; 
 for instance : ' Is it true the missionaries' wives have 
 silk dresses 2 ' ' Is it true they keep more than two serv 
 ants ? ' * Is it true that they have men stand about with 
 fans, fanning them when they are doing nothing? ' 
 And allow me to say that I do not understate the 
 facts as to their allowance ; when Em was here last 
 winter on the way to Michigan with her children .she 
 made out a statement for me of their exact expenses. 
 Their allowance is, as you say, better than many a min 
 ister's; but out of it they pay first a large income tax 
 to the English government. Most of them keep up 
 some sort of life-insurance, as life is so uncertain they 
 do not know what day their families may be thrown 
 on their own resources, and the wife, with broken 
 health, is in no condition to earn a living; so that 
 leaves them still less. But first, before any of these 
 other items are taken out, they subtract a tenth. 
 There seems to be an unwritten law among mission 
 aries that all shall give a tithe of their allowance to 
 the work; many of them give much more, but they 
 start with a tenth. Then they must send their chil 
 dren here to be educated, and the allowance for each 
 child is not enough to support it a year in school away 
 from home, whatever may be done by economical
 
 14 TIIK BISHOI-'JS CONVERSION. 
 
 people at home ; you and I certainly understand 
 that" 
 
 " Yes ; " and tlie Bishop sighed as he thought of the 
 sum that his two boys, who were in a good plain college 
 and living plainly, were needing each month for books 
 and clothing and board, etc.; "yes," he said, "it is 
 impossible to do it without money. I suppose, how 
 ever, the missionary, who is usually a man of educa 
 tion, might educate his own boys out there." 
 
 " I suggested this to Em, but she said there are not 
 five undisturbed minutes in the day that the missionary 
 or his wife can rely upon. Many have tried, in order 
 not to be separated from their children, but it always 
 has ended in their work being given up or in the 
 utter failure of the little ones to learn anything. Be 
 sides, it is difficult for the children to keep in health 
 after they are three or four years of age in that cli 
 mate; and worse even than poor health was the dis 
 advantage of bringing them up in a place where all 
 manual labor, even by the poorest, is considered de 
 grading. It leads them to form wrong estimates of 
 life and unfits them for usefulness." 
 
 " Yes," said the Bishop, " wherever the cooly inter 
 venes between the European and manual labor it is a 
 great misfortune to the European, though it may be 
 bread in the cooly's mouth. But if all this is true, 
 what of Canon Taylor and his utterances, those 
 scathing articles in Truth, this continual warfare in 
 Hughes's paper, and these statements in the English 
 papers by this returned missionary of the name of 
 Lynn or Lion ? " 
 
 " But," Mrs. Clinton asked, " how can Canon Tay 
 lor or the editor of Truth say in what manner mission-
 
 THE PLAN. 15 
 
 aries ought to live ? It must be much the same with 
 them as with other people, though there seems to be 
 some sort of an idea afloat that they might subsist 
 on roots and herbs and be clothed with the grass of 
 the field." 
 
 This was said with asperity. 
 
 " My dear," said the Bishop, with pronounced as 
 tonishment, " I am surprised to hear you speak in this 
 manner. You really might be said to be ah nearly 
 out of temper." 
 
 "Xcarly? I am quite out of temper. I always 
 hear much nonsense talked of missions, but I have heard 
 so much more than usual in the last two months while 
 you have. been away that I have been out of temper 
 several times. Only yesterday I asked Mrs. Long, 
 who has thousands of dollars to spend on herself with 
 out ever giving an account to anyone, for a subscrip 
 tion for our Moradabad school work, and she said, 
 * I really think I cannot give anything this year. 
 Xellie's bills at Long Branch and Jim's yacht have 
 cost me so much, and I hear that the missionaries live 
 like nawabs or nabobs or something of that sort, and 
 of course luxury as well as charity should begin at 
 home.' Think of that when she spends on one re 
 ception more than a missionary's whole allowance ! 
 And another, Mrs. Merrale, who has dozens of silk 
 dresses, said, when I asked her for her usual subscrip 
 tion, ' Really I do not see much necessity for help 
 ing missionaries. The one who called here with 
 you last winter had on a black silk dress far better 
 than mine. I must say I do not feel like subscrib 
 ing for silk gowns for missionaries.' Then I had to 
 explain that I gave the dress to the lady she referred
 
 10 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 to (it was Em, you know), because she had no dress fit 
 to make visits in ; that she was my cousin ; that if she 
 had not been supporting two or three poor children 
 and sending them to school in India she could have 
 bought it herself with her own money, as she has a 
 little ; that I gave her a silk in preference to anything 
 else because it would last longer and be more serv 
 iceable, and that her subscription was not to help 
 missionaries, but to support mission work. I knew I 
 was wasting my breath and getting hot and losing my 
 temper all to no purpose. She had seen a silk dress 
 on a missionary, and that was enough ! " 
 
 Looking at the flushed face, as fair to him now as it 
 had been twenty years before, the Bishop could easily 
 believe the reference to losing her temper, and, though 
 he made a practice of showing surprise when it did 
 occur, he did not really mind it, because he noticed 
 it was always when championing some other person's 
 cause, and never for anything related to herself ; for, 
 after the custom of American men, he valued his 
 wife as a partner in the councils of the family, and 
 trusted her judgment, believing that there was never 
 a cleverer or more sensible woman than she ; and he 
 was more justified in his opinion than men always are. 
 
 The Bishop finally broke the silence that had fol 
 lowed by saying : 
 
 " I really must see if I cannot extend my tour. A 
 few weeks of extra travel would do it, and with a 
 month in which to observe the various mission stations 
 the trip would, I fancy, be altogether quite satisfac 
 tory ; and I am necessarily away from you all so much 
 of the time that it will be no added sacrifice." 
 
 31 rs. Clinton sighed in mock despair.
 
 THE PL AX. 17 
 
 " I should like to have Em hear you say that. The 
 one complaint when she talks of India, and the only 
 one she ever makes, is that people bishops and tour 
 ists interested in missions only go there for the few 
 months of cold weather, when the climate is really 
 delightful. She said a native of India might as well 
 try to judge of the rigor of a Vermont winter by spend 
 ing the month of June in an apple orchard as for a 
 tourist rushing through India in January to try to 
 describe the climate of India. No ; if you go, and wi.-h 
 really to be of service to the mission, you should stay 
 a year, through all the changing seasons, and then you 
 will be able to speak with authority, not only of the 
 climate and the needs of the work, but of the work 
 itself. What glorious missionary speeches one could 
 make after a year of Indian life ! " 
 
 The Bishop smiled. lie often smiled at his wife's 
 enthusiasms, and he had classed her missionary zeal and 
 knowledge as among them, notwithstanding the fact 
 that he found the latter useful for reference. He had 
 no time himself tojook really into mission work, though 
 it had been an early dream of his to be a missionary 
 in India. When, therefore, through indifferent health 
 that idea had to be given up and relegated forever to 
 the land of dreams, it was a great disappointment. But 
 he had always kept up that dreamy way of looking at 
 missions as though they were the romance of the 
 church work, and not to be taken seriously or in a 
 business way. 
 
 "I wish," he said, "you could go also, but I fear 
 that is not to be thought of. The expense even for 
 my tour will be an unheard-of extravagance, and as 
 for remaining a year, it is Utopian in the extreme."
 
 IS THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION*. 
 
 But Mrs. Clinton M*as thinking rapidly and to a 
 purpose, and the beginning of her thought was this : 
 u If missionaries can live on their allowance why 
 cannot other people do the same ? " 
 
 After a little silence she arose, and in a little ex 
 citement went around to her husband. 
 
 " If we three were to go, Lillian, you, and I, and 
 live as missionaries for one year that would be the 
 only way to test the matter fairly we could afford 
 it easily, and perhaps it might be a matter of econ 
 omy." 
 
 " Nonsense," was the answer. lie had faith in her 
 judgment, but not to that extent. 
 
 "Not nonsense at all. Bridget, with her wages and 
 board, and what she breaks and loses, costs me my 
 share of missionary allowance, and Tim and the horse 
 cost your share to begin with. The clothes Lillian 
 and I have now would do very well out there, where 
 as we should be obliged to have a new stock here. 
 Then, you know, it would give Lillian the sea voyage 
 that Dr. Hunter suggested for her the other day ; and 
 besides," dropping her voice a little, " we could have 
 a chance of getting acquainted with each other again, 
 for since you have had ecclesiastical honors I never 
 really see you." 
 
 The Bishop rubbed his head thoughtfully. The 
 statement that the missionary's family lived on what 
 their one woman servant and her son, who looked 
 after the cow and horse and garden, cost them, 
 caught his attention, and he was revolving it in his 
 mind. It struck him as bein^ rather strange that he 
 
 o o 
 
 \vas going out to check the extravagance of people who 
 were doing that. There was something wrong some-
 
 THE PLAN. 19 
 
 where. Surely lie and liis family had never been 
 extravagant. In fact, they had lived much more sim 
 ply than most of their friends, because they had been 
 obliged to do so. But if Bridget, Tim, and the horse 
 and cow \vere given up, and the house let for a year 
 to some friends who had only the day before asked 
 him to find a furnished house in that vicinity for 
 them, and Lillian's school bills saved, for she was in 
 a private day-school surely, if this were all done, the 
 plan so suddenly thought of looked feasible ; and be 
 sides there was a snug little bank account that could 
 be drawn on in case of necessity. Another thing, his 
 wife as well as Lillian would profit by the change, 
 and he looked at her rather remorsefully, for it struck 
 him all at once that though he had made many tours, 
 and had even crossed the Atlantic, she had never once 
 gone for a pleasure trip. She had been tied to the 
 children, who had required a great deal of care, to her 
 committee work, and her missionary meetings; but 
 now, as the two boys were at college, there was only 
 Lillian left at home, and she was not considered 
 strong, he thought, with a pang. 
 
 " Yes," he cried aloud, with almost boyish glee, 
 " yes, it can be done that is, if the brethren make 
 no objections; and if the European work can be ar 
 ranged with them, as I think it can, we will go as 
 soon after the holidays as possible." 
 
 Now, like a woman, Mrs. Clinton veered straight 
 around and was ready to back out of it all. 
 
 "I don't believe there is any good in going. I 
 know well enough that the missionaries are hard 
 working, wise-plan ning, conscientious people, and I 
 don't believe the missionary secretaries are idiots, as
 
 20 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION; 
 
 they certainly would be if they sent any other than 
 hard-working and self-denying people, and it is their 
 work to look into the matter, and not ours. And 
 then besides, if India is so unhealthfnl as people say, 
 it is no place to take Lillian." 
 
 The Bishop only answered the last objection : 
 "You know the doctor said that it is the severe 
 winter here which is hard on Lillian, and that she 
 would be better in a warm climate. My dear, I have 
 settled it ; we will go for our own sakes as well as for 
 the missionary cause." 
 
 And he walked up and down the room with his 
 hands behind him, humming, 
 
 "From Greenland's icy mountains, 
 From India's coral strand," 
 
 as his heart swelled with the thought of pacing India's 
 coral strand and sitting under the shade of the palm. 
 
 " "Well, if I go there is one thing I want to stipu 
 late one thing which you must promise." 
 
 " What is it'? " absently. 
 
 " That M"e in all things follow the custom of the 
 missionaries, as far as expense is involved." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly ! How else could we afford 
 to go ? " 
 
 " And as I have had a good deal of experience in 
 the matter, and have acquired a great deal of in 
 formation on the subject, you will not object to the 
 suggestions I make in regard to finances, provided 1 
 can show you they are founded on my knowledge of 
 facts." 
 
 "Of course not; why should I?" with a little un 
 necessary energy.
 
 THE PLAN. 21 
 
 Mrs. Clinton repressed a smile as she turned away. 
 
 The first time she made a "suggestion founded on 
 her knowledge of facts " was in regard to the selection 
 of a steamer. The Bishop chose one of a favorite line 
 as being the safest, quickest, and most comfortable ; 
 but his wife checked him. 
 
 " 0, no ! " she said, in surprise ; " these points, of 
 course, are to be considered, but we must find the 
 cheapest. I see the one on which Mr. and Mrs. Mil 
 ton sailed last year you remember we went to see 
 them off, and you said it was very comfortable in 
 deed sails just at the time we had decided on go 
 ing." 
 
 " Yes, I remember," he said, dryly ; " it was slow, 
 and not very cjean, and there were a lot of cattle on 
 board. I am a bad sailor, and need as quick and com 
 fortable a passage as possible." 
 
 "I know, but there were several bad sailors in the 
 missionary party, and when I spoke of this I was told 
 by some one in authority that it was much better than 
 the old missionaries had who went around Cape Horn, 
 and I ought to be thankful they had so good a way 
 to go." 
 
 There was a quiver about her lips as she said this, 
 and she turned her face away so that when her hus 
 band looked inquiringly at her he only saw the back 
 of her head. lie was not quite sure that lie had not 
 been that "someone in authority." 
 
 "However," she went on, "the missionaries them 
 selves did not complain. In fact, Mr. Milton said he 
 was glad to go as cheaply as possible, even if it were 
 uncomfortable, as there would be so much more saved 
 for the work."
 
 22 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " There is another reason why I wish to take a fast 
 steamer. We must see London and Paris and Rome, 
 and other places," lie said, ignoring her remarks. 
 
 "But the missionaries are discouraged from doing 
 this. It costs time and money to go sight-seeing. We 
 must go straight to the field, for if we loiter on the 
 way it will be a bad example for them, and you re 
 member your promise." 
 
 I will not eay that the Bishop regretted his promise, 
 or that he regretted it far more before he landed in 
 Liverpool, or that he absolutely hated the thought of 
 it before he reached India. Let those who suffer 
 from seasickness, and who know what the difference 
 to them is between a clean ship, well-cooked and well- 
 served food, and the exact opposite, say. 
 
 And as for Mrs. Clinton, who also was a bad sailor, 
 it is on record that she considered it even a harder way 
 of helping the missionary society than begging sub 
 scriptions from wealthy church members or holding 
 bazars aiid fancy fail's.
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LUOKNOW. 23 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LUCKXOW. 
 
 IT was about nine o'clock one February evening 
 when the train which brought the Bishop and Mrs. 
 Clinton and Lillian up from Bombay, slowly and de 
 liberately, after the manner of Indian trains, moved 
 into Lucknow. 
 
 The station "was well lighted, but the lights gleamed 
 
 O s O O 
 
 coldly through the bine smoke which arose from 
 thousands of little fires around which half-clothed peo 
 ple were crouching in a vain attempt to keep warm. 
 
 Shivering coolies with their heads and shoulders 
 muffled in dirty white cotton sheets stood about wait 
 ing for a chance to carry luggage, and reminding Lil 
 lian, in their forgetfulness of their bare brown legs 
 and feet, of spring chickens on wintry mornings. The 
 wheels of small handcarts with their light weight of 
 luggage shrieked as loudly in moving over the stone- 
 paved floor as carts of ten times their dimensions 
 should. Railway clerks with papers in their dark 
 hands went about with as much manner as American 
 railway clerks, though without their briskness. 
 
 Parties of native ladies, preceded by a waft of per 
 fume, their faces covered, and their hands firmly grasp 
 ing untold lengths and fullness of silken skirts, jin 
 gling many bangles and anklets, glided into waiting 
 coaches, followed by servants carrying silver pan
 
 24: THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 boxes, hookahs, and innumerable bundles tied in old 
 rags. 
 
 Various and individual groups of people stood 
 about, waiting for whomsoever the train might bring 
 them. Here a cluster of callow subalterns, down to 
 meet their colonel who had come on the same steamer 
 as the Bishop ; there a captain and his wife, the lat 
 ter with a great bunch of cream and red roses in her 
 hand, looking for her sister who was coming out with 
 the colonel's wife for a winter in India, and whatever 
 it might bring her in the way of amusement and mat 
 rimony. Farther down was the English millmaster, 
 with a glow on his honest face as he caught sight of 
 the tired wife and babies whom he had left in ATan- 
 chester the year before, when he came out to try his 
 fortunes in this strange land ; beyond him was the 
 Eurasian clerk still in his white drill hot-weather 
 clothes, waiting for his wife's mother and big sisters 
 and little brothers w r ho were coming to visit him 
 while his father-in-law was " temporarily out of employ 
 ment." All these and many others, and yet the eyes 
 of the Bishop's party went straight over them all and 
 lighted on another group a little apart. Why, it would 
 be difficult to say, for the members of it were doing 
 exactly the same as all others on the platform, looking 
 eagerly from window to window of each carriage of 
 the slow-moving train, which finally stopped, leaving 
 the carriage in which were the Americans opposite 
 this very group. While waiting for the guard to un 
 lock the door of their compartment Mrs. Clinton took 
 observations. 
 
 First she at once noticed the absence of the discon 
 tented and vacant expression that she had seen on so
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LrcKNow. 25 
 
 many faces cast of Port Said, though they had the ap 
 pearance of being too hard worked to be merry or to 
 care very much about the quality or style of their 
 clothes, or in any way to think of the impression they 
 were making. Two or three of the women had on 
 broad gray felt hats, while all of the men wore the 
 same, or cork helmets which gave them a grotesque 
 appearance, heightened in the women by the cut of 
 their clothes. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton could see at a glance that each one, 
 though dressed very plainly, seemed to represent by 
 the style of her dress a different epoch in the world of 
 fashion. 
 
 One who looked a little younger than the rest, and 
 whose clothes were a little fresher, had a dress and 
 jacket in vogue three years before. Mrs. Clinton re 
 membered this with exactness, because .it was of the 
 same style as one she had decided not to bring with 
 her because of the ancientness of the cut, though the 
 dress itself was fresh and new compared with the one 
 before her. The other ladies each in turn represented 
 preceding epochs, though in a cursory glance she 
 could not tell the time chronologically. 
 
 " Certainly sometime," she said to herself, with a 
 shudder "sometime in the Middle Ages." Then to 
 Lillian : " O, there is a dress exactly like the one 
 Em wore when she came home, and I remember we 
 wished we had hired a close carriage to t :ke her from 
 the steamer tc the house, we were so ashamed. O" 
 with another quick drawing of her breath and grasp 
 ing her husband's arm "these are the Lucknow mis 
 sionaries, and they have come to meet us. How 
 stupid of us! We might have known 1"
 
 26 THE BISHOP'S CONVEKSION. 
 
 The Bishop, who had been looking thoughtfully all 
 about, woke from his reverie, and said : 
 
 " I dare say. Certainly they have the appearance 
 of veterans of some kind," and he stepped down, as 
 the guard unlocked the door, to have both hands 
 seized by a white-haired, white-bearded, hearty old 
 gentleman, who said : 
 
 " I saw you in '72. Do you not remember Thomp 
 son, of Tippecanoe Conference ? " 
 
 "Thompson, of course, but he was a young man" 
 in a bewildered way. This was greeted by a burst 
 of quiet laughter, as it evidently touched a -\vell-known 
 sensitive point. 
 
 " A young man ? Yes, he was and is a young man. 
 I defy any one to say I am not." 
 
 " And do you remember me ? I saw you in New 
 York in '79," eaid Mr. Miller, a shy, delicate-looking 
 man. 
 
 " And I saw you in Chicago in '80," said Mr. Mac 
 kenzie, another pale-faced, dark-bearded man, with a 
 marked stoop in his shoulders, as though life's bur 
 dens were weighing all too heavily. 
 
 " But," he added, as he saw the Bishop's bewilder 
 ment in trying to talk to so many at once, and to in 
 troduce his wife, who had been seized by the women, 
 *' never mind all this ; give me your receipts for your 
 luggage in the van, and I will look after it, as you are 
 to go with us ; " and away he went with Thompson 
 trotting after him. 
 
 "You must not overlook me because I am small," 
 said a large, stout, jolly woman with tired eyes ; " for 
 I know you, though you do not know me." 
 
 Each and every one had a greeting for them that
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LUCKXOW. 27 
 
 made them feel as though they were mistaken in their 
 own identity and had come among their brothers and 
 sisters. There was the stately superintendent of the 
 Lai Bagh school, the dark-eyed woman who had once 
 only gone from her native India, to cross the ocean 
 with the sick friend whom she left in its deep waters; 
 the wife of the dark-bearded man Avith the delicate 
 face ; a short, stont woman with black eyes ; the 
 Zenana teacher, who was so thin as to make one fear 
 her actual disappearance ; and the scholarly teacher 
 of the college class in the Lai Bagh. And when all 
 were done shaking hands, and the luggage was put on 
 a handcart, Mrs. Clinton found herself and Lillian on 
 the back 'seat and her husband and Mr. Mackenzie 
 on the front seat of a rather small carriage, behind a 
 small horse, both somewhat the worse for wear, going 
 over smooth, hard roads, past square houses with flat 
 roofs, their straight lines broken everywhere by trees 
 with round, thick dark foliage. But Mrs. Clinton was 
 not thinking of what was about her. An undefined 
 thought was in her mind struggling for clear expres 
 sion. 
 
 "Lillian," she said, under cover of the men's talk 
 of the steamer and the journey up country, ''did you 
 ever see any people like these before ? How did they 
 look to you ? " 
 
 "Why, mamma, I thought they looked a little 
 sorry and " hesitatingly " a little glad too, as though 
 they had done something they liked to do ; like those 
 men who went out when the ship was wi'ecked at 
 Xahant last summer. They got lots of dead people, 
 but only one live man and one dear little baby. But 
 they seemed so very glad they had tried, though they
 
 28 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 were so awfully -tired, and they were so wet and the 
 water ran off of them, and they did not care about 
 their clothes, or whether people knew they were wet. 
 If we are missionaries will we have to not care about 
 dresses and hats ?" she asked, anxiously. It was one 
 of Lillian's little failings to care very much about 
 " dresses and hats " for a girl of ten years. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton smiled and said : 
 
 "I suppose we will at least care about hats, for we 
 will have to wear hats like those to protect us from 
 the sun during the hot season." 
 
 " But it is cold now, and there is no sun in the 
 night; then why," she persisted, "do they wear 
 them ? " 
 
 But Mrs. Clinton was thinking again, and did not 
 answer. She felt things quickly and keenly, and she 
 liked to follow out her impressions to see if there were 
 any solid reason for them back of the misty cloud 
 that reached her. Lillian had in her imperfect way 
 expressed her own thought, but the picture these peo 
 ple recalled to her mind was different from that in 
 Lillian's, yet similar. It came to her as an indistinct 
 memory of more than twenty years before a rail 
 way platform and some soldiers in worn and faded 
 blue uniform ; their faces were pale and there were 
 marks of pain on some, telling of unhealed wounds ; 
 others had empty sleeves or walked with the aid of 
 crutches; but over the evidence of suffering was 
 the peace and calm which comes of earnest striving, 
 mingled with the joy of victory, for they had had 
 the most dangerous and exposed places ami the long 
 est forced marches, and finally had been personally 
 commended by their commander-in-chief, who had
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LUCKNOW. 29 
 
 said a great victory won had turned on their bravery 
 and endurance. The tears rushed to Mrs. Clinton's 
 eyes as she thought of the three groups of people 
 the life-saving crew, spent and exhausted, the soldiers, 
 wasted, crippled, and weak, and this group of people on 
 whom they had come to spy, and she said to herself : 
 
 " It is not romance, it is not imagination ; they 
 are one and the same in that they have risked all for 
 what to them seems duty ; that they all have counted 
 not their lives dear if given for an object greater to 
 them than their own welfare. Even Lillian saw it." 
 
 Then with a woman's te'ndency to turn to trifles she 
 thought again and remorsefully of the dress that had 
 not been good enough for a traveling dress, and of the 
 fact of its being a better and fresher one than that of 
 the best dressed of the group. 
 
 "I suppose you can do only half the work in this 
 climate you could in America," she heard the Bishop 
 say. 
 
 There was a sound of amusement in Mr. Macken 
 zie's voice as he answered : 
 
 " I work ten hours a day regularly, and twelve on 
 extra occasions. I really have forgotten the limit in 
 America." 
 
 "Well," said the Bishop, " we estimate seven hours 
 for mental work and nine for mental and mechanical 
 work combined. I suppose, however, you have little 
 mental work. The simple-minded Hindoo 
 
 "My dear sir," interrupted Mackenzie, laughing, 
 " allow me at once to destroy one preconceived notion. 
 The 'simple-minded Hindoo' is the most complex 
 and subtle of all individuals save and except his com 
 patriot the ' simple-minded Mohammedan.' But
 
 30 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 here we are ; onr long drive is ended, and we welcome 
 you to our house. My wife is already here, I see, as 
 she came with Miss Lowe, who has abettor horse than 
 ours." 
 
 " Now," said Mrs. Mackenzie, leading them at 
 once to an inner room, " when YOU have taken off 
 your wraps come out to the fire; we have only one 
 fireplace in the house. We will have some tea, and 
 perhaps it will help us to get warm." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton threw off her wraps and went back to 
 the fire in a hurry, for she did not want a minute 
 alone with her husband. A hasty glimpse of the sit 
 ting room, or parlor, as she would have called it, had 
 made her heart sink with fear and dread. 
 
 "Was she to lose her cause at the outset? If so, 
 and if she had been mistaken and the missionaries were 
 after all living like 'nabobs or nawabs' or rajahs, 
 she could never bear it. She would almost feel as 
 though she had spent her life in vain what would she 
 or what could sho do ? " and she sank down in an easy 
 chair b} T the fire, where she was joined by the others; 
 and then came a servant in white turban and waist 
 band, or kamarband, and silently held a tray on 
 which were cups of tea, with milk and sugar, and a 
 plate with slices of bread and butter. She took a cup 
 with the sense of doing the man a favor. As she did 
 so she gave a furtive glance at the Bishop, expecting 
 and seeing the expression which always appeared on 
 his face when the conclusion of an argument satisfied 
 him that he had boon right in his premises. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Mackenzie hastily drank the tea, then the former 
 said : 
 
 " If you will excuse my wife and me fur a half-hour.
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT Lr< KNOW. Hi 
 
 while you are getting warm, we will be glad, as we 
 have a, little proof for onr paper to be read before we 
 go to bed;" and they hurried away. 
 
 The sound of the word " proof " was to the Bishop 
 like the smoke of battle to an old war-horse. All his 
 spare moments, his vacations, and his holidays had been 
 snatched for writing, and through all the heavy and 
 absorbing duties of ecclesiastical life there had been 
 a secret longing for a life devoted to literary work. 
 
 "Here is, perhaps," he said, tentatively, "a mission 
 ary who is devoting his life to literature instead of 
 legitimate mission work. Certainly the first impres 
 sions," and he glanced up at the lofty ceiling, " are 
 not of self-denying asceticism, at least." 
 
 It is strange that people who in their own environ 
 ments are cautious in forming opinions, deliberate in 
 drawing conclusions, and hesitating in expressing 
 them, will, when in a foreign country, take the most 
 startling leaps and make the most desperate attempts 
 to bridge impossible chasms and most utterly lose 
 their footing. It is as though they felt that wisdom 
 was embodied and would die in their own native land, 
 as though they were the apostles of that wisdom, and 
 through them, and them only, could it be disseminated. 
 
 His wife was busy with her thoughts, and made no 
 answer. The large, lofty room which at the first 
 glance had seemed so stately and well furnished was 
 being examined more closely, and her heart, which 
 had fallen at the first sight, was now assuming its 
 wonted cheerfulness, and there was a curious smile on 
 her face. It was clear to her now that she would not 
 be beaten at the outset, at least, and she did not much 
 fear it later. 
 a
 
 32 TlIE BlSIIOI''s CoNVK.KSIoN. 
 
 The room was large and lofty, there could be no 
 denying it; she had heard this was necessary; but 
 as to its being well furnished, she smiled as with a 
 woman's quickness she " speered " into one after 
 another of the simple devices to give the room a 
 comfortable and homelike appearance simple, she 
 saw, both as regards time and money ; yet even she 
 did not grasp the situation fully, not knowing the 
 prices of the various things used. Feeling chills 
 creeping over her she rose and stood with her back 
 to the fire, saying : 
 
 " I could almost believe this fire a pretense, I get so 
 little warmth from it." 
 
 The Bishop followed her example. 
 
 " It is because of the size of the room," he said, with 
 a little triumph in his tone; for no matter how good 
 and earnest men are, they do enjoy a triumph, and 
 there is no dearer privilege to the best of them than 
 of saying to their wives, " I told you so." 
 
 " It is because of the size of the room," he repeat 
 ed, "for this is certainly a larger and loftier room 
 than we ever had in our house, or I may say than I 
 have ever seen in any minister's house in America." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Clinton, looking across the room 
 that was filled with the same smoke that had softened 
 the landscape but which dulled the light of the lamp 
 and gave an inexpressibly dreary aspect to everything ; 
 " yes," she said, meditatively, " my father's barn was 
 a very much larger structure than our house, yet I 
 never heard anyone express a desire to exchange onr 
 cosy little home for it." 
 
 ' ; Ah," said the Bishop, for he was honest to the 
 core, " ah, yes, that is really of what I was reminded ;
 
 Tin-; ARRIVAL AT LUCKNOW. 33 
 
 it is rather barny, is it not? But still there are many 
 very handsome things in it." 
 
 Just then Mrs. Mackenzie came in, shivering, with 
 a shawl wrapped around her. 
 
 " How I wish," she said, brightly, " I could get 
 warm once more. We live in extremes here ; broiled 
 in the long hot season, stewed and steamed in the wet 
 hot season, and chilled to the marrow in the cold sea 
 son. The fire looks warm, and that's one comfort; 
 but this room is so big it is impossible to warm the 
 air in it." 
 
 " But why have the rooms so large, if you do not 
 like them and cannot be comfortable ? " asked Mrs. 
 Clinton, eager to begin the contest. 
 
 Mrs. Mackenzie gave a quick look, first at Mrs. 
 Clinton and then at the Bishop, and she smiled as she 
 remembered with what pain she also, when she first 
 landed, had seen the large houses, for she had had a 
 vague idea of living in grass huts. 
 
 " O," she said, " we have our houses, like every 
 thing, not for pleasure or comfort, but of necessity. 
 They are built for the hot weat'.ier, and with the ob 
 ject of inclosing as many square inches of oxygen as 
 possible ; for when you are shut up in a house many 
 hours every day for six months, with the thermom 
 eter at one hundred and seventy degrees outside, your 
 life depends on oxygen, and to procure this we must 
 shiver through our three months of cold weather." 
 
 " But I am sure a big stove such as we had when 
 we lived in the country would warm this room," said 
 the Bishop. 
 
 " Stoves!" exclaimed Mrs. Mackenzie; " do not be 
 gin to talk of luxuries like stoves. People Lore, some
 
 34 THE BISHOP'S ('<>N\ i I:<ION. 
 
 people, do Iiuve them, but mission log cannot afford 
 them." 
 
 "Well" dryly looking about him "I confess I 
 have heard pictures and bric-a-brac called luxuries, 
 though stoves are not usually put down in the same 
 category." 
 
 " Supposing, however, one's bric-a-brac cost one 
 nothing, and would bring next to nothing if sold, and 
 one makes the pictures in moments when too weary 
 for anything useful, would they still be counted as 
 luxuries ? And suppose a stove, even a small one, 
 would cost as much as nearly everything else in the 
 room, and if it were not necessary, then would not 
 the order be reversed ? " 
 
 " Of course it would," said Mrs. Clinton, sym 
 pathetically ; "and even if it would not I know of no 
 law, moral or otherwise, to prevent a missionary's 
 wife from having a pretty room, if it should cost a 
 little, though my eyes are keen enough to see that 
 yours did not cost much." 
 
 "And you do not think Bishop A. was right when 
 he reported my carpet to be Brussels ? " asked Mrs. 
 Mackenzie, with a laugh. 
 
 " Hardly but what is it ? It looks nice even to one 
 who might see more clearly than the good Bishop." 
 
 " It is called farsh, and is a coarse sail-like cloth, 
 dyed and then stamped by hand in the bazar, and costs 
 the extravagant sum of ten cents a yard, inclusive of 
 sewing and putting down." 
 
 The Bishop's mouth was open in a most nnclerical 
 way. Did he not remember his wife's saying some 
 thing of getting a carpet that was " such a bargain " 
 at three dollars a yard ? He must be dreaming.
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LTCKXOW. 35 
 
 "And you will nut say that I have expensive terra 
 cotta vases filled with costly plants, I know ; but for 
 fear you might not understand let me say that those 
 ' terra cotta ' vases," pointing to some oval pots on the 
 floor, " are the ordinary pots for carrying water, and 
 cost three cents apiece, filled with wild jungle-grass." 
 
 It was Mrs. Clinton's turn to gasp with astonish 
 ment and delight and exclaim : 
 
 " They are perfectly lovely, and I shall take home 
 a dozen of them." 
 
 " You might find them an extravagance, even at 
 three cents apiece, if you attempt to take home a 
 dozen. But I see you enter into the merits of the 
 case, and -will not if I give you green pease in the win 
 ter eat them with a relish, as one did, and then com 
 plain at home that missionaries could have green pease 
 in February, when people who supported them could 
 not afford it." 
 
 Mrs. Mackenzie's eyes danced, and she added : 
 
 "If he had only said we would have given ten 
 times as much for them in July as in February per 
 haps it would have left a different impression on the 
 minds of those who hear it." 
 
 " No, I certainly would not do that ; but he must 
 have been unkind as well as stupid not to have under 
 stood it without explanation." 
 
 " lie is not the first nor the only one who has been 
 entertained by us at much inconvenience and sacri 
 fice, and enjoyed all we could give, and gone away to 
 say we live too well." 
 
 " I wish," said Mrs. Clinton, with apparent irrele 
 vance, " I could lay the ghost of the herbivorous mis 
 sionary."
 
 3# THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 Mrs. Mackenzie laughed. Had she not wished the 
 same many a time ? But the matter-of-fact Bishop 
 turned a startled glance toward her as though he 
 feared some mental aberration. 
 
 " "What \ " he asked in explanation. 
 
 "The typical herbivorous missionary who wanders 
 about, eating what he can pick up, and who is always 
 sitting under palm trees, surrounded by an eager mul 
 titude who are begging him to read the Bible to 
 them. He is a ghost that exists only in the brains of 
 romantic people who never have anything to do with 
 mission work practically." 
 
 " Certainly you cannot say that Dr. Moffat and 
 Mr. and Mrs. Judson and others of their day were 
 imaginary characters. Surely they wandered, and 
 there were times when they were glad of roots and 
 berries or anything else they could pick up. We 
 shall never have better missionaries. These of the 
 present day may well take example from them." 
 
 " Yes ; but," said Mrs. Mackenzie, sweetly, " be 
 cause Asbury rode a horse with saddle-bags all over 
 the West, and ate with the Indians, do the Bishops 
 of the present day think it necessary to do so or ad 
 visable not to make use of the railway ? " 
 
 This was a clincher from the meek-looking woman, 
 from whom he had hardly expected the argumentum 
 ad hominem. 
 
 "Xo; for though the methods of those early days 
 were good and efficacious for the times, yet with 
 the size and importance of our present church they 
 would be impossible. Time and strength would be 
 wasted." 
 
 " Exactly," said Mrs. Mackenzie ; " and may I ask
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LTTCKNOW. 37 
 
 you to remember that progress touches even a mis 
 sion?" 
 
 " There was a picture," said Mrs. Clinton, slowly, 
 and smiling a little, "that hung in my mother's 
 bedroom ; in fact, there were two pictures, framed 
 in solemn black, of a flying angel in the sky, and 
 a lot of hands lifted up from a dusky crowd of 
 people reaching for the Bible the angel held. 
 There was a background of palm trees and mosques 
 of unknown architecture, and on the lower half of 
 one sheet was a certificate in my mother's name 
 of life-membership of the Missionary Society. The 
 other was of her mother ; and when my aunt died 
 there was another brought, and the three were some 
 how associated with the awfulness of my mother's 
 room, where we were never found unless there was 
 a necessity for a course of discipline ; and they are 
 somehow mixed up in my mind with missionaries 
 and mission work." 
 
 There was a gravity on the Bishop's face that was 
 only one remove from displeasure. 
 
 " But," she went on with an audacious smile, de 
 termined at least to make his face relax, " perhaps it 
 was because I was always puzzled over the picture, 
 wondering how people could hold up their hands and 
 feet too ; for there were so many and they seemed so 
 mixed up that I thought some must have put up feet." 
 
 The Bishop did smile, but he said : 
 
 " I do not see what this has to do with the ' imagi 
 nary missionary.' " 
 
 " I do. My impressions of a vague, romantic, and 
 unreal person began there. I say my impressions 
 began there, but so did those of hundreds of other
 
 38 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 people; and impressions are often as tenacious as con 
 victions. I hope mine end with entering the house 
 of live flesh-and-bone missionaries." 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie had entered in time to catch the main 
 part of this, and a bright look of appreciation of the 
 fun, and relief at finding unexpected sympathy, light 
 ened a face that had a settled weariness. 
 
 " Ah, then yon at least will not be disappointed if 
 you do not find the typical missionary ? " he said. 
 
 "No, I shall not; for I do not believe he exists, 
 with one exception, and he is a giant who scales 
 mountains and traverses seas, and digs wells in the 
 deadly sun, and lives on nothing if he happens to have 
 it, regardless of the limitations of time and space and 
 nutrition which bind other men." 
 
 "If there is only one how can you say he is typi 
 cal ? " asked the Bishop, with visible patience with the 
 vagaries of the weaker vessel. 
 
 "He is typical only of the image that is called up 
 in people's minds at the sound of the word 'mis 
 sionary.' ' : 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Mackenzie, " he is a pioneer and a 
 grand one, but while it is necessary for a pioneer in 
 any new country to fell trees and burn underbrush 
 and turn up the soil the process would be of very 
 little use if others did not follow patient, plodding 
 men who can plant and sow. This has been proved 
 where he has dune pioneer work that was not fol 
 lowed quickly by the steady plodders; it vanished 
 like the dew before the sun. It is the steady, hard, 
 well-organized work that tells. It cannot be brilliant 
 work, for men who do it are rarely heard of out of 
 their immediate circle. Permanent success is simply
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LtTCKNOW. 39 
 
 a matter of time and patience and perseverance 
 through all kinds of difficulties and discouragements. 
 Xo meteoric showers of Bibles and tracts and ser 
 mons will ever effect any solid work, though they 
 may open the way for the plodders." 
 
 "Yes," said the Bishop, thoughtfully; "yes," he 
 repeated. There was something in those words that 
 caught his attention. 
 
 "Our Church in America," Mackenzie went on, 
 " is founded on broad business principles. Emotion 
 is allowed no part in its government and its plan for 
 extension. What is the result ? The mightiest and 
 most sweeping advance the world lias ever seen in a 
 Church ; but when she comes to missions you might 
 almost say they are her little recreation. She allows 
 her imagination to play, and will give, on impulse, 
 the most to the field that can tell the most thrilling 
 tales. She loves the ' herbivorous missionary,' as your 
 wife calls him; but it is time that she wakes up to 
 the situation and learns that the idea of one lone man 
 wandering through the jungle is mere child's play to 
 the work she has on hand. And the very first thing 
 she needs a clearer view of is the missionary himself. 
 Xot only the Church, but the people at large, will 
 never understand mission work until, because we give 
 up our coats, they cease to demand of us that we give 
 up our cloaks also." 
 
 "I confess I do not understand your last remark," 
 was the stiff rejoinder of his listener. 
 
 "I will make it more plain. AVe give up home 
 and friends, a friendly climate, our worldly ambi 
 tions for even we have legitimate ambitions and 
 come to a deadly climate, to a narrowing life, and one
 
 40 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 that stunts all mental and checks moral development, 
 and they try to demand that we give up also the nec 
 essaries of life." 
 
 "Not quite so bad. Allow me to say that state 
 ment is an exaggeration. No one would ever think 
 of going so far." 
 
 " They would not mean to go so far, yet if one fol 
 lowed out their plans literally it would amount to 
 deprivation of the things that are actually necessary 
 to life. But you will allow this one statement to be 
 true : the necessities of life in one country may be 
 luxuries in another, as we have proved in the matter 
 of stoves. It is so also in the matter of servants, and 
 in that of food and clothing. Now, as a practical ex 
 ample, were my wife to attempt to do the cooking 
 for the family for one month in the hot weather it 
 would not only take up all her time, but would prob 
 ably take her life also ; so a cook is one of the neces 
 saries of life here, whereas there might be places 
 where he would be a luxury ; and one of her luxuries 
 now and then in the cold weather is to take a little 
 time to prepare for the table some dish that we used 
 to have in the home land. Look at that dish of pink 
 roses, and these palms, that give such an air of luxu 
 riance to the room, chiefly because roses and palms in 
 February are associated with luxurious living. "We, 
 however, would give them all for a stalk of golden-rod 
 or a handful of buttercups from the river pasture- 
 land." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton broke in, exclaiming : 
 
 " Is it true? Would you give those delicious roses 
 all, and the palms too, for a sprig of golden-rod ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Mackenzie, as her eyes filled with
 
 THK ARRIVAL AT LUCKXCHV. 41 
 
 homesick tears, u I would quickly. I am often re 
 minded of myself by a pine tree that is back of this 
 bungalow. It is so stunted and dreary -looking, and so 
 homesick for its own natural surroundings that it 
 never grows, and some day will die from sheer ina 
 bility to become adjusted to the unfamiliar growths 
 about it." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton took her hand and gave it a sympa 
 thetic squeeze as the Bishop said to Mackenzie : 
 
 " You have scored a point there, on the necessities 
 of one country being the luxuries of another, I grant 
 you, and a strong point which I shall consider and 
 perhaps use in some future time ; but you ignore the 
 fact that -missionaries are supported ah not exactly 
 by charity, but what is in a way considered charity, 
 and are not expected to demand what the other min 
 isters do." 
 
 " But wherein has a Church a right to set apart one 
 class of her servants, and say they are the objects of 
 charity, as you are pleased to term them, while others, 
 paid from the same subscriptions, and perhaps doing 
 the same kind of work in their own land, sur 
 rounded by friends and a friendly climate, are put quite 
 in another division of the Church ? Say, for instance, 
 that a man is a missionary in a foreign land. lie 
 goes home and administers mission money at three 
 times the salary; he straightway is taken off the char 
 ity list and becomes a regular church servant. Who 
 creates this difference ? " 
 
 "The matter of fact is, for the responsible positions 
 at home we must have superior, clear-headed men of 
 ability, and we cannot get them on what you are al 
 lowed here."
 
 42 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION*. 
 
 "But we must have the same kind of men here. 
 That we do have the same kind is proven by the fact 
 that our men, when for various reasons they do go 
 home to live, till these same places. ISfow allow me 
 to say that there is a mistake in the attitude of the 
 Church, in which, if individuals were set right, there 
 would be a different sentiment, and one that would 
 enforce a little more economy at home under 
 favorable climate, and not so much abroad, where it 
 would be disastrous to all work. You see it is as 
 though the Church, which is large and wealthy, with a 
 large revenue, when she decided to plant a large 
 branch of it in a foreign country, said as she called for 
 volunteers : ' There is to be a great war ; we ask you to 
 take the difficult and dangerous posts. In order that 
 you may be well equipped for this we should like you 
 to have the best of food and plenty of it, the houses 
 best calculated to protect you from the ravages of sun, 
 heat, and disease incident to a tropical climate ; we 
 should like to give you the books you need to keep 
 your minds fitted for your work, and conveyances to 
 take you about, that you may not lose precious time 
 and strength ; but there is a sentiment in favor of an 
 ascetic life' (which, let me say in passing, means death), 
 'and we cannot do it. There is no sentiment against 
 well paying our servants who stay comfortably at 
 home, but you are another class.' ' 
 
 The Bishop looked perplexed. He could not agree 
 with all this, but he did not seem to catch any point 
 where he could disagree, or any point of which he 
 could take hold. 
 
 " Well, of course," he said, lamely, " missionaries 
 are another class."
 
 THE ARRIVAL AT LUCKNOW. 4:3 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 u They are especially consecrated to a life of devo 
 tion, and more is demanded of them." 
 
 " By whom ? The same bishop ordains us all, we 
 all serve God, whom we love, and we all live to prop 
 agate the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. Do not 
 misunderstand me. I have never suffered, and the 
 authorities will never see us suffer for anything we 
 need. It is only that the sentiment at large needs 
 cultivating ; but we have no time to stop and cultivate 
 it or change it. We have hardly time to stop and say 
 what shape or plan our houses shall be or how we 
 shall live. The necessities of each day are all we 
 want, and- we cannot spend precious time over things 
 unimportant in themselves. But I see Lillian is wish 
 ing for an opportunity to close her blue eyes, and your 
 wife is hoping we will postpone the remainder of this 
 discussion until to-morrow." 
 
 Lillian smiled sleepily, and Mrs. Clinton said as 
 she rose, yawning, " You have divined my thoughts 
 exactly;" and soon all was silent in the bungalow.
 
 4 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 JUGGLER AND SHAWL MERCHANT. 
 
 THE next morning the three travelers were up 
 early and out exploring their surroundings with a 
 Crusoe-like eagerness. 
 
 Lillian, with the quickness of childhood, caught a 
 glimpse of a little girl at the end of the garden and 
 lie\v away to join her, guessing she was the Katie of 
 whom Mrs. Mackenzie had told her the ni^ht before. 
 
 o 
 
 It was a beautiful morning, with a strange fascina 
 tion not found where there is a rustling of leaves, a 
 whir of many wings, a twitter of birds, a general stir 
 of men and animals glad and anxious to be about the 
 business of the day. It was all so quiet. If the day 
 was advancing it was doing so imperceptibly and with 
 an infinite stillness. The sunny sides of the long- 
 trnnked Millingtonia trees, of the square-topped 
 whitewashed bungalows, of the dust-covered foliage 
 surrounding the bungalows, and the blue-gray cactus 
 hedge were of a deep bright yellow ; but the dark side 
 of the trees, the bungalows, the hedge, and all the land 
 scape that had not the high lights of the fiery sun, 
 had a blue haze over them not unlike smoke, while the 
 sky was a pale dull blue mingled with yellow. 
 
 Native people were sauntering by with no evidence 
 of hurry, wrapped in dirty white or brown blankets. 
 In sharp contrast to them were now and then English-
 
 A NATIVE WATER-DRAWER.
 
 JUGGLER AND SHAWL MERCHANT. 45 
 
 men in " sola topis," or helmets, and gray business suits 
 who drove their dog-carts sharply past, startling the 
 sleepy natives just in time for them to wake up and 
 save themselves from being*run over. 
 
 It was all strange and picturesque, from the creak 
 ing pulley of the well (by which the bihisti with red 
 dripping drapery was drawing up a pigskin bursting 
 with water, showing in a most absurd way the head, 
 legs, and entire shape of the defunct animal from 
 which it had been robbed), and the sweepers with their 
 bundles of twigs sweeping the road clear of dead 
 leaves, to the garden with its roses and heliotrope and 
 the servants' houses of mud, with the happy brown 
 children playing before them. 
 
 " It is not the India of my dreams," said Mrs. Clin 
 ton, as she turned to greet Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie, 
 who joined them, followed by a man with a tray of 
 tea and dry toast, who put it on a table in the middle 
 of the veranda and hurried away. 
 
 " Xo," said Mrs. Mackenzie, as she poured out the 
 tea ; " the India of one's dream is a fanciful India, and 
 exists, as far as I have seen, only in visions and poets' 
 fancies. Yet there may be a realization of it some 
 where in this vast empire, for there are no two towns 
 alike, and the customs in different parts of the country 
 vary as greatly as in the towns ; " and then she added, 
 ' ; It is cold here for our little breakfast, but it is colder 
 in the house. This veranda collects all the heat there 
 is going, and though you need your overcoats you 
 would need them much more in the house." 
 
 A man came just then with a basket of mail, which 
 Mr. Mackenzie took and began sorting. 
 
 " You will see by this mail that I have three vari- 
 4
 
 4:6 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 eties of work under my charge. This," touching the 
 largest heap, " forms the daily allowance for the pub 
 lishing house, and these," indicating another pile, " are 
 treasury letters, but I shall soon pass all that part of 
 my work over to Dr. Wall, and these," handing an 
 other lot to his wife. " I have as editor of a young 
 people's illustrated paper, and which I pass on to the 
 subeditor." 
 
 "Your duties seem to be varied," remarked the 
 Bishop ; " I do not see just where you can find time 
 for legitimate mission work." 
 
 "What is legitimate mission work?" 
 
 " Preaching the Gospel to the heathen with all your 
 might, mind, and strength," was the firm answer. 
 
 " That is just what I am doing ; I preach to many 
 thousands every day. If you will come with me after 
 breakfast I will show you my method of doing it ; but 
 now tell me what plans you have for sight-seeing. Of 
 course, like other globe-trotters, your main effort will 
 be to see Lucknow, including a glimpse of mission 
 work, in a day and a half, leaving the latter half of 
 the second day for taking the train to Cawnpoor and 
 ' doing ' that place." 
 
 His only answer was a laugh from Mrs. Clinton. 
 
 "Or are you going to give the unprecedented time 
 of three days to Lucknow alone ? " 
 
 Mrs. Clinton laughed again and said : " I see the 
 sight-seeing fiend has been here and corrupted your 
 minds ; but we will inaugurate a new era ; we are go 
 ing to see India, and we are going to try to ~know 
 India, and not simply rush about like mad people." 
 Mrs. Clinton did not care to avow their real plans, 
 and the Bishop, strange to say, felt a hesitation, in the
 
 JUGGLED AXD SHAWL MKKCII.VNT. 47 
 
 face of the warm welcome lie hud received from all, 
 to explain that he hud come as a spy. lie finally 
 said, with a visible effort : 
 
 "I expect to make my home in Lucknow for one 
 year, and with it as a vantage-ground study India 
 thoroughly from the missionary point of view." 
 
 " Seriously ?" said Mackenzie, Getting down his cnp, 
 and turning quickly and looking at the Bishop with 
 ;in absurd amount of incredulity on his face. 
 
 ''Certainly," with dignity; "why not?" 
 
 "And you also?" to Mrs. Clinton, who was enjoy 
 ing his surprise. 
 
 "Yes, as my husband says, ' why not ?' You cer 
 tainly do -not think we should be qualified to speak on 
 India or on mission work in any shorter time? And 
 in order to do this in the best and most thorough way 
 we are going to be missionaries, live on missionary 
 allowance, and work as they do, without swerving." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton was rather careful to keep this latter 
 point before her husband, for now and then lie 
 showed a tendency to ignore it. 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie turned to his wife in a helpless 
 way, as though he expected her to express his feel 
 ings for him, but she returned his look in silence, and 
 there was a pause, broken only by the hoarse cawing 
 of the crows that were flying about hoping for a 
 stray bit of toast. Finally Mrs. Mackenzie whimsi 
 cally said to her husband : 
 
 "Will you kindly look out and see if the sky is 
 tailing?" 
 
 There was a laugh all around, and then Mr. Mac 
 kenzie said : 
 
 ' This is so nearly what we have wished, and so far
 
 48 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 from what we ever supposed could be, that you will 
 pardon us if onr surprise is tempered with incredulity. 
 If you can do it observe that I say if it will be 
 the best thing that has happened for many a day." 
 
 " We do not care how strong an emphasis you put 
 on the word 'if,' and we intend to prove our good 
 faith by looking for a house this very day in which 
 to begin our missionary career." 
 
 " See here," said Mr. Mackenzie, " Thompson 
 leaves to-night to take his wife, whose health has 
 failed, to America, and his house will be empty and 
 available to-morrow. If you are a missionary you 
 must live in a mission house, though of course we hope 
 you will remain with us as long as possible." 
 
 " And I will help you settle, for that is really the 
 hardest part of the coming to India," said Mrs. Mac 
 kenzie. 
 
 "Do missionaries' wives usually help each other to 
 settle?" 
 
 "No, indeed ; we all help ourselves," answered Mrs. 
 Mackenzie; "but you are different." 
 
 "Not at all. I do not mean or wish to be differ 
 ent. I will help myself when I can, and when I 
 cannot if you will allow me to come to you for ad 
 vice I shall be very glad. We wish in every sense 
 to be treated as one of you." 
 
 "Then," said Mr. Mackenzie, rising, with a smile, 
 " I will begin at once and say as I would if you were 
 one of us, that I must go to work ; I have lingered too 
 long already." 
 
 "And I too," said his wife, taking up the letters 
 and packages ; " I must read and answer these letters, 
 examine these manuscripts, and correct proofs steadily
 
 JUGGLER AND SHAWL MERCHANT. 49 
 
 all day. But it seems rather rude to leave you quite 
 to your own devices the first day of your stay here." 
 
 " O, do not mind us ! We have letters to write that 
 will keep us busy." 
 
 The Bishop was opening an Indian Review that 
 his host had handed him, and made no answer. Just 
 as Mrs. Mackenzie was vanishing through the door 
 she heard the familiar sound of the little tom-tom with 
 which the jugglers always announce their coming. 
 
 " O," said she, witli a sigh of despair, "how the 
 whole city can find out in one night that the 'Lord 
 Bishop Sahib ' has come is more than I have ever 
 been able to discover. This man is only a forerunner 
 of the visitors you will have to-day and every day 
 for a week." 
 
 "What is it?" said the Bishop, laying down his 
 book. 
 
 "Ouly-a man with a performing monkey, a cobra. 
 and a mongoose. The mongoose will kill the snake, 
 and the man will swallow marbles and yards of cloth 
 and twine, and yon will find them floating in the air, 
 besides doing other things too numerous to mention. 
 Will you see him ? If you have not time for him I 
 will send him away." 
 
 The Bishop hesitated, said he must write letters, 
 looked at the muii, who sat down on the ground drawing 
 various curious things out of a bag and was lost. An 
 Indian juggler reads a face as an open book, and he 
 knew that the new Sahib was longing to see what he 
 could do, nnd consequently hurried his operations. 
 Lillian and Katie came running from the garden at 
 the, to Katie, well-known sound of the tom-tom. 
 
 "Ah, I suppose one really must see the Indian
 
 50 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 jugglers in order to judge of the customs of the 
 people," lie said, in lame excuse of his desire to see a 
 tamasha. 
 
 And he, as well as his wife, was soon absorbed in 
 watching the sleight-of-hand of a second-rate juggler. 
 First the man pulled out of his bag, by the tail, a 
 cobra, a hideous, slimy, creepy cobra, that proceeded 
 to make a spiral coil of the latter half of himself, 
 while the former and bigger part he raised up in a 
 straight, swaying column, with the vile hooded head 
 turning viciously about. The children retreated with 
 a scream behind Mrs. Clinton, from whence they 
 peeped out fascinated in spite of their fear. Then 
 the mongoose came out with his mouth covered with 
 red powder, and followed the snake, which quk'tly 
 and indifferently moved off, but finding itself in a 
 corner at the end of the step turned and made a 
 lunge at its enemy, who darted on it, setting its 
 teetli sharply in the sleazy hood. The cobra strug 
 gled a little, and then fell down flat, apparently 
 dead, and the mongoose ran behind the basket the 
 man had and began eating something tossed to him 
 by his master. 
 
 Hearing a sigh of relief, Mrs. Clinton turned to 
 find Lillian pale and shaking with terror and Katie 
 drawing a long breath. 
 
 " O," said Katie, "how I <l<>nt like to see the 
 snake ! " 
 
 They all laughed at her way of putting it, but felt 
 that it expressed their feelings exactly. 
 
 "Mother," whispered Lillian, shivering, "Katie 
 says that her mother found a snake like this in the 
 house one night, only it was much biggt r."
 
 JUGGLER AND SHAWL MERCHANT. 51 
 
 " Never mind, darling, we will try not to find any 
 while we are here." But Lillian was still quivering 
 with fear. 
 
 "Mamma, it is so horrible ! I should die if I saw 
 one in our room." 
 
 " Katie," said Mrs. Clinton, " when your mother 
 found the cobra was she afraid of it, or was it afraid 
 of her ? " 
 
 Katie laughed. " I think both of them were afraid, 
 for mamma ran to get a servant to kill it, and the 
 snake ran away also. They both ran, so they were 
 both afraid." 
 
 " Do you see, Lillian, the snake would be afraid of 
 us as much as we of him. But look at the juggler; 
 see what he is doing ! " 
 
 First he beat the little tom-tom, then he drew out 
 a monkey's skull, put it before him with a tender 
 care, and said to it in Urdu, " Take care of my luck." 
 Seeing the Bishop about to turn away he hastily held 
 up a mango seed. That never failed to hold a new 
 comer. 
 
 " This," he said in Urdu, "will be planted, will 
 sprout, and will bring forth fruit before the Lord Sa 
 hib's eyes, if he will wait to see." 
 
 Katie glibly translated this, and the Bishop sat 
 down, saying as the man dug up the dry earth : 
 
 " That, indeed, will be worth seeing." 
 
 After having planted the seed the man covered it 
 up with a large, tall basket, then he patted the mon 
 key's skull, called on the monkey god llanuman, who 
 is the presiding deity of all jugglers, to see that it 
 grew fast, because the great and wonderful Sahib, 
 whose fame had traveled the world over, was waiting
 
 52 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 to see what he could do. "While it was growing the 
 two monkeys were brought around and fought as 
 man and wife, quarreled, then made up and kissed, 
 the wife slyly rubbing the kisses off when her lord 
 was not observing. Once more beating the torn-ton), 
 once more patting the monkey's skull, and naming 
 Han u in an, the man with a great nourish lifted the 
 basket and cried : 
 
 "Dekho!" ("Behold!") 
 
 Then the Bishop beheld and marveled, for there 
 was a mango sprout three inches high. The basket 
 went over it again, and this time the man began swal 
 lowing various things and pulling them out of ear 
 and nose and mouth. He first opened his mouth 
 so that it could be seen plainly that a ball of ribbon 
 actually went down his throat, and then pulled it out 
 from his nose, reeling it off by the yard. Then, his 
 mouth full of paper shavings, he spurted fire from his 
 nostrils. 
 
 After this the ball trick came in order, and he 
 threw up a dozen balls, catching them regularly and 
 throwing them up again; then a row of cups, and 
 the disappearance of rupees which were found under 
 the cups, where the Bishop declared they could not be. 
 
 Now he took a cup of water and watered the plant 
 under the basket, then did the trick of balls again and 
 again. After this more tricks with the monkeys ; then, 
 with the same call to Hanuman and the tap on the 
 monkey's skull, he lifted the basket, crving: 
 
 "Dekho!" 
 
 There was a tree, O, unbelieving Bishop and Mrs. 
 Bishop, growing before your eyes, thriving and prom 
 ising, and this juggler smiled a smile, for there was
 
 JUGGLER AND SHAWL MERCHANT. 53 
 
 enough wonder and delight on the good Bishop's face 
 almost to repay him for his trouble, and even the 
 skeptical wife thought that this was one of the "more 
 tilings than were dreamed of in Horatio's philoso- 
 
 pfcy" 
 
 Kow the Bishop began to think of his letters, and 
 gave the man some pice, who went out just as a 
 swarm of other men came in at the gate men in dirty 
 white with great bundles on their heads, followed by 
 other men in clean clothes, wearing dark blue and gray 
 pugris, dark woolen coat and white trousers, and 
 with sticks in their hands. Katie explained that they 
 were cloth merchants with beautiful shawls and rugs 
 and gold -and silver embroideries from Cashmere. 
 
 " They sell them cheap, very cheap," the child 
 said,' translating literally. "And they have risen 
 up early and come at once because the great name 
 of the Lord Bishop Sahib had gone abroad through 
 the land and reached them ; and because they wished 
 him to sec good things, well made and cheap, and 
 also because they feared other merchants, who were 
 thieves and rascals, would impose on his good heart, 
 for this they had hurried and come." 
 
 " Ah," murmured the Bishop, " very kind and 
 considerate, but quite unnecessary, as we do not wish 
 to buy. Tell him so, little girl/' 
 
 " But no, did not the Lord Bishop wish to buy ? 
 That was nothing. It would be more pleasure to 
 show these beautiful things to so great and good 
 a man, whose fame had traveled so far against even 
 the wind, than to sell to people of lower caste ; and 
 also to the great Sahib's honored wife, her who knew 
 so well the value of all the beautiful things of the
 
 54: THE UISIIOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 East; her appreciation of his tilings would quite re 
 pay his trouble." As he talked he unrolled soft white 
 shawls, glittering gold and beetle-wing embroidery, 
 gauzy draperies, dull, soft, silky-looking rugs of ex 
 quisite colors, tiger and leopard skins, black curly as 
 trakhan skins, and those less curly and smaller, taken 
 from the goat at its birth, and watched the admiring 
 looks cast on them and heard the expressions of ad 
 miration with concealed triumph, for Mrs. Clinton 
 could not forbear sighs and exclamations of delight 
 even had she known that the wily merchant was taking 
 stock of them and adding five rupees for every sigh 
 and ten for every exclamation to the price he in 
 tended to ask. The veranda soon looked like a shop, 
 and there was not a place where one could put one's 
 foot on the floor without treading on beautiful 
 things. 
 
 The moments fled, and Mrs. Clinton decided she 
 must have a few things for her house, for even mis 
 sionaries must have curtains and table-covers, and she 
 began pricing things, and found to her surprise that 
 these "exquisite, lovely, transcendent" things would 
 cost only what she had paid for ugly, hideous, inartis 
 tic things of Western manufacture, and she wondered 
 how she had ever endured them. The merchant, now 
 that Katie and Lillian had disappeared in the garden, 
 developed a very good use of the English tongue, and 
 told her that he was only asking half that a Mem Sahib 
 in the next house had paid him, because he had heard 
 of her great kindness to the poor. So she selected a 
 half dozen things, laid them out, and was about to pay 
 for them, when Mrs. Mackenzie appeared on the 
 scene and with a gasp stopped her. The merchants
 
 JUGGLER AND SHAWL MERCHANT. 55 
 
 did not look happy at her coming. "What they like 
 and gloat over is a raw, untried "globe-trotter" without 
 any of those mean people who have lived a long time 
 in the country and understand things. Mrs. Macken 
 zie asked quickly what she was going to pay, and 
 turned sharply, saying to the man in Ilindoostanee : 
 
 "Why have you come to my house to rob my 
 friends ? Do you expect I will ever buy from you or 
 allow you to come into my house again ? " 
 
 " Pardon, pardon, Mem Sahib," and his hands came 
 together in the usual form of supplication ; "I, as is 
 our custom, told her the first price, which is, as you 
 know, and also all wise Mem Sahibs like you, only the 
 talking price. But she, not waiting to ask the true 
 price, said she would pay it. There was, of course, 
 nothing for me to do. It would ill become me, a poor 
 man and a humble, to correct so great a Mem Sahib, 
 who should know far more than I." 
 
 Mis. Mackenzie laughed as she translated to her 
 friends, who laughed also, but not with full enjoy 
 ment. The person lives not who likes to be thor 
 oughly "done " in a bargain. 
 
 "Now," said Mrs. Mackenzie, turning to the head 
 merchant, "tell me exactly the right price, or I will 
 not allow you to come here again. Remember, the 
 truth, and nothing but the truth." 
 
 "Certainly, Mem Sahib. Of coarse, if she had 
 asked for the truth I would have told her, as I no\v 
 tell you at once on your own asking. For all these fino 
 things, the table-cover, the tea-cozy, the curtains, I ask 
 her the true price, and Allah be my witness that I say 
 true words ; " and he named jnst half he had asked 
 Mrs. Clinton.
 
 56 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " O, you rascal ! " she exclaimed, in exasperation, 
 ' ; how could you have had the heart to cheat me so ? " 
 
 He heard as one who hears not, but Mrs. Mac 
 kenzie said : " She will give you two thirds of your 
 selling price, not one pice more. Remember, I know 
 what these tilings are worth." 
 
 " No, no ; " and the man shook his head angrily ; " I 
 am a poor man, and now it is you that wish to rob me. 
 I have spent my morning for nothing, and I will go ; " 
 and he began hurriedly to gather up the things and 
 roll them together with a great show of indignation. 
 Mrs. Clinton was ashamed, and she, as well as her hus 
 band, thought Mrs. Mackenzie had been a little hard 
 on the man, but she smiled at them, and, when his back 
 was turned, pointed to the things which he had put 
 aside in a little heap while he packed the remainder 
 of his goods. Then he begged for the price he had 
 named, said he was giving them away even at that 
 price ; that they had wasted his morning, and, as a last 
 plea, he was "a poor man with many children, whose 
 stomachs were always empty, and always crying for 
 food." 
 
 And again her guests wondered at Mrs. Mackenzie's 
 hard-heartedness, wished there had been nothing said, 
 and that they had paid his price without any parley. 
 The man took the things in his hand with a sour face, 
 put them in his pack, salaamed to all, and went off. 
 There was a silence on the veranda, the Bishop 
 visibly disgusted, Mrs. Clinton half inclined to call 
 the man back, and Mrs. Mackenzie tranquil. 
 
 When half way to the gate the merchant turned, 
 came back smiling, and begged the great Mem Sahib 
 to take them at her own price, saying that he well
 
 JUGGLER AND SHAWL MERCHANT. 57 
 
 knew that Mrs. Mackenzie was of a hard nature and 
 would never pay more than was right. 
 
 "And O, brother," said she, in Ilindoostanee, "do 
 I ever pay less, or even try to make you take less 
 than is just?" 
 
 " Xever. The Mem Sahib is just, and I shall ever 
 intercede with Allah for her long life." 
 
 They all had a laugh when she translated, and the 
 l>ishop said, looking at his \vatch : 
 
 " Where is the morning gone ? I have not written 
 my letters." 
 
 lie was hurrying away when Mackenzie entered, 
 
 v O v * 
 
 and Mrs. Mackenzie said : 
 
 " We have been waiting breakfast for you as 
 nsnal." 
 
 "Yes, but a man came that wanted two thousand 
 tracts, and I had to help select them, and I had to 
 finish an editorial and go to the bank for treasury 
 money, as Clark has been worrying me for his allow 
 ance in advance. There is so much sickness in a 
 native Christian village near him that he wants his 
 own allowance to lend to them in installments." 
 
 "And how will he live?" asked Mrs. Clinton. 
 
 "On his good name, and trust to getting his money 
 back ; the latter, however, is not so certain as the for 
 mer. But let us have breakfast, for I have five men 
 up there now waiting for me." 
 
 "Are these men Christian inquirers?" 
 
 " Xo, indeed ; / * serve the tables and carry the 
 money bag.' I have to leave the pleasanter work of 
 the mission to those who cnnnot do this and can do 
 that ; for, strange to say, I have no time for personal 
 mission work."
 
 58 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 The Bishop looked and felt severe. There was 
 something wrong when a missionary had no time for 
 personal work. 
 
 " But," Mr. Mackenzie went on, " I console myself 
 for not doing the pleasantest work by the fact that 
 other people could not do it either were I not doing 
 what I am. I make it possible for them to do a good 
 deal of personal work through the KanTtdb-i-Hind, the 
 Rafif-i-Nigwan, and all the other monthly and weekly 
 papers we publish ; I myself speak to a large number 
 through the paper which I edit; so perhaps after all I 
 do a little personal work, though I always think of my 
 paper as my recreation and not my work, as I do most 
 of it in the evening, after the day is well over."
 
 59 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A MISSIONARY PRINTING PRESS. 
 
 4 FTER a plain breakfast of cracked wheat, mutton 
 _O_ chops, potatoes, and fniit Air. Mackenzie per- 
 suaded the Bishop to leave his letters and go up to the 
 mission publishing house with him. 
 
 " It is only a short walk, so you can spend a half- 
 hour there and still have time for your letters," he 
 said, taking up his white-covered umbrella, and also a 
 white-Covered cork hat, looking dubiously the while 
 at the soft felt which the Bishop as usual put on his 
 head. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ; have you no umbrella ? " 
 
 " Yes, but I do not need it, for certainly there is no 
 indication of rain," answered the Bishop, looking up 
 at the cloudless sky. 
 
 "Hardly," with a smile, "and there will not be un 
 til we have longed for it many and many a weary day ; 
 but you require an umbrella to protect you from the 
 sun." 
 
 " You cannot be in earnest, for I feel really cold, 
 and I would be glad of a warmer sun than this." 
 
 " For your feet and leirs it might be M'ell to have a 
 
 t/ O O 
 
 warmer sun, but not for your head," Mackenzie an 
 swered decidedly, " and I have another umbrella, 
 which I will get for you." 
 
 " Xo," waving his hand, " I do not require it."
 
 60 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " Then let me get you a sola topi like mine," indi 
 cating his ugly pith hat. 
 
 "No, no," impatiently, "let us proceed ; we are 
 wasting time." 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie looked troubled, but opened his 
 umbrella and moved on. 
 
 " The native of this country, I have observed," re 
 marked the Bishop, "goes without "other covering 
 than a little embroidered cap, and if foreigners would 
 accustom themselves to the sun gradually no doubt 
 they would be stronger and would more quickly be 
 come acclimated ; and as- the walk is short it is a good 
 moment for me to begin my acclimatization." 
 
 Mi 1 . Mackenzie said nothing. It was not the first time 
 he had had the philosophy of the Indian climate ex 
 plained and advice given to him in regard to it by 
 people who were new to it, nor, he knew, would it be 
 the last ; and the Bishop was not the first man who 
 had been given over to the tender mercies of expe 
 rience. His host could only hope these same tender 
 mercies would not be cruel. 
 
 The walk was not long, and when they arrived at 
 the back entrance of the Publishing House they were 
 in no way conscious of heat, but the veins on the 
 Bishop's forehead stood out, and there was a flush on 
 his face and a peculiar brightness in his eyes that told 
 a well-known story. lie was conscious of a confusion 
 of head, and a curious faint feeling which he could 
 not explain, and had never before experienced, but he 
 was not in the least heated, and was rather loath to 
 leave the bright sunshine for the damp, cold printing 
 house. They passed through a high gate, which was 
 unlocked by an obsequious, weather-beaten looking
 
 A MISSIONARY PRINTING PRESS. 61 
 
 native who was night and day watchman, and one of 
 whose duties was to search every man who passed out, 
 to see if he were carrying off type, or books, or pa 
 pers to sell in the bazar. 
 
 " This is shocking," cried the Bishop ; " do you 
 expect to make Christians of men when on the face of 
 it you show you do not trust them ? I must say I 
 cannot approve of your policy in this." 
 
 " If I give it up will you promise to present us with 
 a new outfit of type in six months?" asked Macken 
 zie, dryly. 
 
 " Yes," was the decided answer, " I will do so, for 
 I have not so low an estimate of human nature 
 that I cannot think it better to put men on their 
 honor." 
 
 " Very well, I will not begin the experiment until 
 you have been here two months ; then if you still ad 
 vise it, agreeing to give us new type if we need it, I 
 w r ill try your plan for six months." 
 
 It may be said, by the way, that when the time had 
 expired he did not advise the change, and the matter 
 was never referred to again. 
 
 At one side of the large yard were many litho 
 graphic stones drying in the sun ; back of them was a 
 pile of wood for firing the little engine ; near the door 
 a cart drawn by two white oxen, from which were be 
 ing unloaded huge parcels of paper just brought from 
 the paper mill. Through the open door could be seen 
 the engine, and a native engineer in English dress. 
 
 O J O O 
 
 Entering, they saw a long dim room full of dusky 
 figures busy setting type and printing from small hand- 
 presses. One or two men were at work at the little 
 steam press, rolling off weekly papers, one of which 
 5
 
 62 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 was presented to the Bishop with a low salaam, by a 
 half-naked man ; another, with the ink still fresh from 
 a lithographic hand-press, was also presented to him 
 in the same manner. Mr. Mackenzie informed him 
 that they had as yet no type for the Urdu language 
 in the Persian character, though there was plenty of 
 Koman Urdu printed; and he pointed to a man sitting 
 on the floor writing Urdu on a stone, with a pen made 
 from the hard stalk of knsi grass. 
 
 On a little platform before them all sat the English 
 manager of the printing department, surrounded by 
 proof readers, who, by virtue of English education, 
 were sitting on chairs. 
 
 "The strangest thing about these typesetters," said 
 Mackenzie, " is that they can read neither English nor 
 their own language, but can set type equally well in 
 both." 
 
 " Surprising ; and they are heathen ? " 
 
 "Most are what you would call heathen; the re 
 mainder are Mohammedans and Christians." 
 
 " And the Christians, of course, do better work 
 than the Hindoos and Mohammedans?" 
 
 Mackenzie smiled. " The truth is best ; among ed 
 ucated Christians they do, but among printers, with a 
 few exceptions, they do not, but not because they are 
 Christians. There are several reasons," he said, after 
 introducing the manager, Mr. Board, and the proof 
 readers to the Bishop, "why Christian printers give 
 less satisfaction than the others. The driftwood of 
 the Christian community comes here. I take many 
 of them in, not because they do gcod work, but be 
 cause they are Christians ; and there are various 
 kinds of Christians among these people, as in other
 
 A MISSIONARY PRINTING PRESS. 63 
 
 countries. But will you look at our stereotyping 
 room ? " and lie pointed to a closet where a man 
 stood with a stick patiently pounding the stereotyp 
 ing paper over the form. Then he took a dish of 
 melted lead, put the form into a little hand-machine, 
 poured the lead into it, and presto ! one page was 
 stereotyped. 
 
 "This is going back to the Middle Ages, Bish 
 op." 
 
 "Altogether tco much so. You must get out a 
 modern electrotyping outfit from New York. I am 
 surprised that you can tolerate this kind of work." 
 
 " I am only too glad to hear you say so. All we 
 lack is money to pay for it. But look at our book 
 binding department, and see what you think of that," 
 he said, turning to the left and entering a large, long 
 room at one end of which a dozen men were sitting 
 on the floor with common table-knives, pastepots, and 
 balls of fine twine binding books. 
 
 Mackenzie picked up some very neat-looking books. 
 " Not bad-looking work, considering the means." 
 
 " I could not have believed they would have looked 
 so well. They are a clever lot of men, though they 
 do not have exactly that appearance," said the Bishop ; 
 "but it is too slow, too primitive. We must have all 
 this changed at once." 
 
 " They ought to do them well, for they have done 
 ten thousand of these same books this year," said 
 Mackenzie, ignoring his guest's criticism. 
 
 At the other end little half-dressed boys were 
 folding periodicals fresh from the press. As they 
 passed these all rose and salaamed, for they too had 
 heard of the Bara Sahib's coming, and hoped in a
 
 64 THE BISHOP'S OO.NVKKSIO.N. 
 
 vague way for some advantage from his presence. 
 Then to the packing room, where three or four men 
 were putting up cases of tracts and schoolbooks, 
 Bibles and weekly and monthly papers for mission 
 aries in out districts. 
 
 " They are sent from one end of India to the other. 
 These two cases," looking at the address, said Macken 
 zie, "go to two earnest, hard-working men two thou 
 sand miles apart ; one eight days' march in the inte 
 rior of the Himalaya Mountains, and the other south 
 of Madras. This," pointing to another, " will go to 
 Kurrachi, and that to Rangoon I am afraid to say 
 how many miles apart at least three thousand by 
 water. 'Not only so many miles apart, but they will 
 do a work among people as widely different in their 
 habits and customs as any two peoples you know. 
 These parcels of tracts go here and there all over 
 India. It is rather an unpretending place, but we 
 send out more parcels and packages than any other 
 business house in Lucknow. We preach to thousands 
 and thousands every week, and when I think of that, 
 think that we are the only ones that can or ever will 
 reach thousands of people whose need is so great that 
 they are unconscious of any need, I am content to do 
 my work though there are trials and worries enough 
 connected with it to drive a man nearly mad. ^sow," 
 he said, as he led the Bishop straight through a large 
 room with several clerks in native dress sitting at desks, 
 " let us look at the shop, and then we will come back 
 and talk over these things aftur I have dispersed these 
 men," indicating a dozen men who stood around a 
 
 7 O 
 
 desk shivering in their cotton clothes. 
 
 The front shop was lined with bookcases filled with
 
 A MISSIONARY PKINTING Pin:--. 05 
 
 books, chiefly English stories, travels, biographies, and 
 history. The tables in the center of the room were 
 covered with books in Urdu, Hindi, and Bengalee, 
 and some showcases had Christmas and Scripture 
 cards, inkstands, and all the usual stationery found in 
 bookstores. 
 
 " The sales of this room pay for a number of the 
 clerks," said Mackenzie, "besides having a distinct 
 work of their own to do ; for when I have put a good 
 book in a man's hand I believe I have done him a great 
 and lasting favor." 
 
 o 
 
 " Yes," said the Bishop ; " I agree with you on 
 that;" but there was a commercial look and sound to 
 much of this that lie did not like, though he did not say 
 so. lie was not quite ready to formulate his opinion. 
 
 " Xow here," said Mackenzie, as they went back 
 to the large desk in the inner room, "is my work 
 shop, and here I spend the greater part of my waking 
 hours. Here is a report," handing him a pamphlet, 
 "which will tell you that last year we sent out twenty- 
 four millions of pages, and two hundred thousand of 
 them free, besides a good many things in it which you 
 iniiy find interesting." 
 
 "Now, Chunga Xath, what is it?" he said to the 
 man nearest him. 
 
 "Your honor. I must have more pay for binding 
 your books, else I will give up the job." 
 
 "Did you not sign a contract for just what you 
 are now getting ? " 
 
 "Yes, your honor, but lam a poor man with a 
 large family, and I must have more." 
 
 "Am I not pitying you more than you could get 
 at any other place ( "
 
 66 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " Your honor, I am a poor man, and my children 
 must have bread." 
 
 " Answer my question, brother ; am I or am I not 
 paying you more than you could get at any other 
 place?" 
 
 " Yes, your honor," sulkily. 
 
 " And are you not coming now to ask for more 
 because you know that the books are very much 
 needed, and not because it is just or right ? " 
 
 No answer, but the man stood first on one foot and 
 then on the other. 
 
 "Answer me, if you can; if not, go about your 
 work and give me no more trouble. I have the 
 written contract, and can compel you to do your 
 work well and in time." Then Mackenzie trans 
 lated this to the Bishop, and the man slunk off, one 
 end of his dirty kamarband trailing on the ground, 
 and his dirty pugri having a discouraged look that 
 rather appealed to the man who was having his ideas 
 of mission work so upset and overhauled by what he 
 was seeing that he was not sure he was the same man 
 that had preached missionary sermons, portraying 
 graphically the sufferings of the imaginary mission 
 ary ; bnt surely he had never thought for a minute 
 that dealing with dishonest contractors M'as one of 
 their trials. 
 
 " Now, Charn Lai, what can I do for you ? " 
 
 " Preserver of the Poor, I am sick and cannot work." 
 
 Mackenzie looked at him sharply, felt his pulse, 
 put his hand on his forehead, then said, " What is 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " I have fever, your honor, and I will go to my 
 home and lie in my bed."
 
 A MISSIONARY PRINTING PRESS. 67 
 
 Mackenzie opened a drawer, took out a clinical ther 
 mometer, put it under the man's tongue, bade him 
 keep his mouth shut, and turned to his head clerk, who 
 had brought a handful of letters and bills; he took 
 them from him, read them rapidly over, signed some, 
 returned two or three for correction, and then looked 
 at the thermometer. 
 
 "Charn Lai, you have been telling a jhutli bat. 
 You have no fever. Xow tell me the truth. Why 
 did you want to go away from your work when you 
 know in what great need we are to have it done 
 quickly? The truth now, brother;" and he smiled at 
 him in a genial way. 
 
 The hands came together. 
 
 "Pardon me, Protector of the Poor. My brother 
 is making his wedding to-dav, and my heart bids me 
 
 go." 
 
 " Why did not your heart bid you tell the truth ? 
 Xo, you cannot go. You have been away already 
 this month so many days that your family will suffer 
 for bread. It' it were only you that would suffer I 
 would let you go. Kow, David, what do you want? " 
 This was said in English. 
 
 " Sir, I in debt. The man come take my cooking 
 vr>scl.>, and I beg you to give me nine rupees that I 
 py him, for if I have not the cooking vessels how 
 can the woman cook?" 
 
 'Why are you in debt?" 
 
 "Sir, I make my marriage, and I a very poor 
 man, and I get much in debt of necessity when I 
 make marriage ; and my wife is now all fool, and I 
 am not advantaged by her, and all time men come 
 and take away clothes for debt."
 
 68 TFIK BISHOP'S CONVKRSION. 
 
 "This is bad, but you mrty go now, and I will look 
 into the matter." 
 
 "David is a Christian, and one of the 'weak 
 brothers,'" said Mackenzie to his visitor. "We will 
 never make much of him, but lie may be better than 
 if he had been left to himself.'' 
 
 "And here is Brown again," he said, looking at a 
 dark man in English dress. " How are you getting 
 on with your work ? " 
 
 " Not very well, sir. The people will not corne to 
 buy of me, but I am hoping much, as my prospects 
 are a little brighter, sir. There is a very respectable 
 soldier who wishes to marry one of my daughter?, 
 and that will be a great reduction of expense. I 
 have come to ask you for a little advance, which I 
 will try to return next week." 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie's brow contracted. lie was not 
 pleased. 
 
 " You may wait outside, and I will give you an an 
 swer soon. Here, Bishop, give me the benefit of your 
 wisdom. This man is a leper." 
 
 "What?" said the Bishop, in undisguised horror. 
 
 "Yes, he is a leper. Did you not see that one 
 hand was gone? Before it was known, lie had a 
 position as bookkeeper, at three hundred rupees per 
 month. He was discharged because of this disease, 
 and after that no one would employ him. I, with the 
 help of some good friends, set him up in the coal busi 
 ness ; but he says people will not buy. I fancy, how 
 ever, that he has not energy enough to make it go. 
 Xow, the question is whether to give the man an ad 
 vance and put him in debt to me, or, as I have given 
 him a good chance to help himself, let him know once
 
 A MISSIONARY PRINTING PRESS. 69 
 
 for all that I cannot support him. Tell me what to 
 do." 
 
 The Bishop had heard little ; he had, unnoticed, 
 half risen at the word " leper," and then sank back 
 into his seat. His head, confused by the heat of the 
 snn, refused to think clearly. 
 
 " Leprosy, and I exposed to it ! It is all very well 
 if Mackenzie chooses to help a creature whose pres 
 ence may be worse than death, but he ought not to 
 expose others to it." 
 
 "Mackenzie," he said, and his voice was a little 
 hoarse, "what right have you to expose yourself to 
 such a disease? You should consider your family if 
 you do not care for yourself." 
 
 The Bishop was laboring under a heavy amount of 
 excitement, Mackenzie saw, to his surprise. Risking 
 contagion in one way or another was so much a part 
 of his general work that he'hardly thought of it, and 
 this sharp rebuke, wrung from the man who was wip 
 ing the perspiration from a pale face that had been 
 flushed a moment before, hurt him like a blow, and, 
 it must be confessed, stirred his contempt a little. 
 
 "My dear Bishop," he said, before he had time to 
 think, " if you are to be a missionary, as you have 
 said, will you pick and choose ? "Will you run at the 
 first signal of danger?" 
 
 There was silence, and the face that had paled 
 at the thought of contagion so horrible, now was 
 flushed. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," Mackenzie said, " but you 
 did not tell me what to do. The man says he needs 
 money badly ; I have the certain conviction that if I 
 begin advancing money I shall have to keep it up, for
 
 70 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 he is of the kind that likes to bo supported, or refuse 
 him at some future time. The question is, shall I re 
 fuse him now, or after he had drained the last bit of 
 charity money I have? " 
 
 The Bishop took out his purse. 
 
 " Here are ten rupees give them to him ; but can 
 you not hereafter send to him, write to him, anything 
 but have him come where you are ? " 
 
 "I will give him five and keep the other five for 
 another time of need, if you do not mind;" and he 
 went out, gave the man some advice as to trying 
 harder, and told him he must try to pay back the loan 
 next week. 
 
 '" Seriously, when you can send to a man like that 
 why bring him here among all these people, exposing 
 them as well as yourself? " persisted the Bishop. 
 
 " Well, it is difficult to manage, and lepers are 
 everywhere about the city. As a matter of fact, I do 
 try to go to see him myself once a week, though when 
 he gets hard up he comes to see me. Bnt if you 
 think one can do much work for the people, and dodge 
 all disagreeable things and all dangers, you are mis 
 taken. I suppose there is not a day in the cold weather 
 that I am not exposed to smallpox. Even to-day it 
 is probable that among the one hundred and seventy 
 men employed here at least one man comes with 
 smallpox infection about him, and I feel glad if no 
 one comes with the actual disease upon him, for it 
 often happens. Then, in the hot season, we have 
 cholera for a change. Do you see there ? " and ho 
 opened a little drawer, showing a dozen or more bot 
 tles labeled " Cholera Mixture." " l.used and gave to 
 the men for their families during the last hot season
 
 A MlSSIOXAUV I'lUXTIXCr PKESS. 71 
 
 four c/jzen of these bottles, and even in the cold 
 weather a man now and then comes or sends to me 
 for it." 
 
 " And yon expose yourself and take home infection 
 to your f imily, then, every day in the year ( " 
 
 Mackenzie's face grew grave and his voice was 
 solemn with the weight of deep feeling: 
 
 ' ; I confess to you that when I think of my family 
 in this connection I do not find it pleasant or easy to 
 bear, but I can only trust them as I trust myself to 
 God's tender care. I have given myself and them 
 into his hands, and the result is with him." 
 
 His questioner was rebuked, and as he reached 
 over and grasped the hand of the man before him, 
 who spoke so simply of these terrors, the old missionary 
 spirit which had been in him as a young man rose and 
 sang again a song of triumph ; for he knew Christ's 
 kingdom must come when such a spirit as this was an 
 everyday matter. He well knew that while a man 
 may, in moments of great danger, easily give his life 
 once for all ; while he may gladly suffer even martyr 
 dom, which is over when the fire at the stake dies 
 out, yet the same man may be utterly incapable of 
 an hourly giving up or of living cheerfully or joy 
 fully through constant and never-ending danger. lie 
 knew, too, that to suffer martyrdom does not require 
 the entire and perfect consecration that is needed to 
 work through constant depression and discouragement 
 for people who often are unworthy, often ungrateful, 
 and always incapable of comprehending the greatness 
 of the nature that gives itself for them. But what 
 was this sentence haunting him ? 
 
 " While I do not for a moment credit all that has
 
 72 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 been said of their faults and deficiencies, there is no 
 doubt in my mind that the heroic spirit has died out 
 of missions and missionaries." 
 
 He had said it in the pulpit, and he had written it 
 where it had been published. It had sounded well, 
 but he would now give much if he could blot out 
 the remembrance of it from the mind of everyone 
 who had heard or read the sentence, and there seemed 
 a sorrowful voice in his heart, saying, " Inasmuch 
 as ye did it nnto them, ye have done it unto me." 
 "What had he done to them? He had condemned 
 them unheard ; he had criticised them in ignorance ; 
 he had not in any case rendered them their just dues 
 of honor and sympathy, and if Christ's words meant 
 anything they meant at least that he had denied Him 
 love and sympathy, honor and justice.
 
 Ix THE BAZAK. 73 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IX THE BAZAR. 
 
 MRS. CLINTON decided to open her housekeeping 
 as quickly as possible. Mrs. Mackenzie's cook, 
 who was a Christian, had promised to send her one of 
 his friends, who was likewise a good cook and a Chris 
 tian. Her first need after this was china for the table. 
 
 So at four o'clock the shabby little carriage and the 
 scraggy little pony took them slowly down through 
 the English and Eurasian quarter, past the Eurasian 
 and native quarter, and then on to the business por 
 tion of the town, where they entered a long, long 
 street, lined with little shops on either side, with now 
 and then a temple or mosque, beside which grew the 
 inevitable and sacred pipal tree. Mrs. Clinton had 
 said as they started out : 
 
 " Now we will have a nice cozy talk of housekeep 
 ing, and you can enlighten me on many points." 
 
 But in a moment her attention was distracted by a 
 group at the wayside well. 
 
 A man with a musical instrument somewhat like an 
 elongated banjo, another with one of the shape and 
 appearance of a small, dirty beer-barrel, and still an 
 other with a reed pipe were sitting under a tamarind 
 tree in the midst of a group of friends, who listened, 
 entranced, to a medley of wailing sounds that Mrs. 
 Clinton thought the opposite of musical. 
 6
 
 74 THK BISHOP'^ COXVKUSIOX. 
 
 " The tiling in tlie Indian people," said Mrs. Mac 
 kenzie, " that delights me more than anything else is 
 their inconsequent way. They do not stop to begin, 
 as we of an older civilization do. Xow, these men 
 are as happy, dropping down by the roadside and 
 calling the first musicians that happen to be passing, 
 as the European who builds an opera house or concert 
 hall, hires his singers months ahead, prints pro 
 grams and tickets, and then demands an elaborately 
 dressed audience. Then here, see these t\vo men. 
 One wishes for a barber. lie goes along on his jour 
 ney until he meets one, and they sit down under the 
 tree, perfectly oblivious to all passers-by, and the bar 
 ber does his work thoroughly, even to cutting finger 
 and toe nails and shaving the head, if his customer is 
 in mourning." 
 
 "They are political economists of the first rank, I 
 should say. No force or time is lost," answered Mrs. 
 Clinton. 
 
 " Yes, indeed. Now here is another instance : that 
 man nearly naked, passing along wirh a wet strip of 
 cloth held over his head, flying behind him, is 
 going home from his work. lie has just stopped a 
 few minutes by the well, washed his outer garment, 
 which is usually wrapped around him like a shawl, and 
 lie easily holds it in the wind as he goes singing on 
 his way. When it is dry he will again wrap it 
 about him, and little or no time will have been lost." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton laughed. 
 
 O 
 
 "I like saving time quite as well as anyone, but I do 
 not think I would like their way of doing it for myself." 
 
 " That is because we are so artificial. Now, he did 
 all that as easily and naturally as a bird dips himself in
 
 IX THK T>AZAR. 75 
 
 the river and flashes his feathers in the sunlight as he 
 goes singing up into the sky. It is perfectly fasci 
 nating to me. Iain never tired of seeing how many 
 beginnings and endings they cut off from life. They 
 are not the products of an effete civilization, as we are. 
 Here is another example : see that man under the 
 banyan tree, with toys and some pieces of print and 
 a few boxes of thread spread out on old strips of 
 cloth on the ground above him. lie needs no elabo 
 rately planned shop, no plate-glass windows, no car 
 pets, no electric light, and no chamber of commerce to 
 interfere. He has got hold of ten rupees, honestly or 
 otherwise, and in one day has set up his shop, from 
 the proceeds of which he will give an offering to 
 Lachmi. the goddess of plenty, if at the end of the 
 year he makes as much as we spend in a week, even 
 when we are economical." 
 
 " It is wonderful, but forgive me, the most won 
 derful part of it all is that it seems so dirty." 
 
 Mrs. Mackenzie laughed. 
 
 " There was a time when I too thought of that, but 
 I have learned that they are the cleanest people in the 
 world. In judging of the cleanliness of any nation 
 you must consider, not the rich, but the poorest and 
 lowest classes, and I know of no other poor people who 
 bathe every day. The Mohammedans, too, invariably 
 wash before eating, and even the lowest cooly 
 cleans his teeth the first thing in the morning. But 
 here is our shop," as they stopped before a stall where 
 was heaped up coarse china of various kinds. As 
 Mrs. Mackenzie alighted, she said, " We might almost 
 call this missionary china, for most missionaries have 
 it, though not from choice, I can assure you."
 
 76 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 The whole street on both sides, Mrs. Clinton saw 
 while waiting, was a succession of stalls, their fronts 
 opening directly on the street, with one door from 
 the back leading to the family rooms, but no doors 
 or windows at the sides. 
 
 In the one next to the china shop cotton goods of 
 all shades and colors were stacked up around the three 
 sides of the stall, all mixed together without regard 
 to dazzling the eye, or perhaps with that very object. 
 Next to this was the garah wala shop, with its tiers 
 of fresh-baked terra cotta waterpots, of all sizes, their 
 lovely oval shapes as well as their rich color attracting 
 the attention. The little space in the shop that was 
 not filled with these aesthetic water jars, dear at three 
 cents apiece, was festooned with stems of hookahs, 
 wound in bright rainbow colors, varied by lines of 
 hookah stands of a coarse sort of majolica, of brass 
 and of silver. 
 
 Beyond this was a man sitting on the floor of his 
 shop making jaunty little caps of thin embroidered 
 muslin. They looked about big enough for an Eng 
 lish baby, but they were on the heads of most of the 
 men that were passing. 
 
 On the opposite side of the street was a shop that 
 quickly caught and held Mrs. Clinton's color-loving 
 eyes. There were dark low tables, on which were 
 shallow baskets heaped up with scarlet, gold, crim 
 son, and purple powders, and bronze, green, and orange 
 resins, the pale straw of the baskets bringing out 
 these masses of color from the deep purple shadows 
 in the back of the shops, where the shopkeeper, as 
 though to help in the harmony, sat clothed in dull 
 light brown from head to foot, his hookah of burnished
 
 IN THE BAZAR. 77 
 
 brass being the only thing near him that caught the 
 light. Farther down was a shop with the same straw- 
 colored baskets, only larger and filled and heaped up 
 with salmon-colored dal, all shades of olive and olive- 
 green in bajra and millet, the polished black seeds of 
 the koda by the dull gold of the wheat, and in the 
 center, lounging on a rug on the floor, the handsome, 
 graceful-limbed, olive-faced young bunnia, or store 
 keeper, dressed in terra cotta color with a gold-em 
 broidered turban, pulling at his silver hookah. The 
 bunnia was a dude, and that is a thing not expected 
 of a bunnia, but a bicycle leaning against the steps 
 explained that he was of modern India, probably had 
 his master of arts degree, and knew that his gods 
 Ram, Siva, and Vishnu did not reside on the tops of 
 the snowy peaks of the Himalayas. 
 
 "What," asked Mrs. Clinton of herself, "is not 
 possible to a people whose very shopkeepers do them 
 selves and their shops up in such harmony of color? 
 Probably," she said to herself, " he has also chosen 
 his occupation from its aesthetic fitness to himself." 
 
 Had she been longer in India she would have known 
 that to have been impossible, for his occupation was 
 chosen for him by his ancestors hundreds of years be 
 fore his birth. There was to her an inexhaustible in 
 terest in all these shops, but the street was filling so 
 fast with people that they shut out the view. She 
 .saw the shadows deepening and felt the chill of the 
 night that was coming on, and just as she began to wish 
 Mrs. Mackenzie would hurry up the man and conclude 
 her bargain the latter came out of the shop, saying: 
 
 " Shopping is the most tiresome thing I have to 
 do, I think. It is simply impossible to do it quickly,
 
 78 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION*. 
 
 even though they know just what I will pay. Now 
 we will go down by the river." 
 
 But they had to pass slowly through the crowded 
 streets that were kaleidoscopic in their moving color. 
 Most of the people were foot passengers, but now and 
 then there was apalkigari, through the closed blinds 
 of which one caught a glimpse of color and the flash 
 of the dark eyes of some begum out for an airing ; 
 now and then a dhooly with a richly dressed native 
 gentleman inside stretched on his back, the monoto 
 nous song of the coolies carrying it uniting with the 
 cries of the sweet venders and shrieks of the palki 
 gari drivers. The pony shied viciously at an elephant 
 who came slowly trundling along, carrying half a dozen 
 soldiers, but passed a string of camels unnoticed, and 
 soon took them out of it all where the air was fresh 
 enough to allow them to breathe freely again. 
 
 The sky in the west was a clear pale lemon, deep 
 ened into orange at the horizon, against which the 
 clock tower and the old imambaras and mosques lifted 
 themselves in dull purple excepting the domes, cor 
 ners, and golden balls which still caught a strong light 
 from the warm sky, though the sunset call to prayers 
 had long since died away. Over the intervening 
 space the blue smoke was beginning to arise from the 
 evening fires, and the river the sacred river Gumti, 
 which flows into the more sacred river Ganges re 
 flected every tree and bungalow on its shores and 
 every boat on its surface with mirror-like exactness. 
 It was difficult to tell which was the most beautiful, 
 the landscape above or below the water. Even the 
 old Chatter Munzil, surmounted by its golden umbrel 
 la, peeped ovt below the surface, and the red brick
 
 Ix THE BAZAR. TO 
 
 bridge, with the evening lamps lighted, already 
 gleamed sharply out just where one expected brown 
 shadows in the water. 
 
 " The Chatter Miiusil," said Mrs. Mackenzie, after 
 a little silence in which they had enjoyed the scene, 
 " was the zenana palace where the old King of Onde 
 kept the most favored of his thousand wives, but it is 
 now used as a club for both civil and military people. 
 There is a fine library in it to which I am always 
 longing to subscribe." 
 
 " Is it so very expensive ? " 
 
 " Not at all, though what I would pay for that 
 would defray the cost of a girl's day school ; but not 
 withstanding this I am sometimes tempted to do it, 
 for I do not believe it quite right to neglect my mind 
 even to improve the mind of others, only I have not 
 time for it. Could I have the health I had in America 
 I might find time for reading, but I am obliged to use 
 all the strength I have to keep up my mission work, 
 and trust to some future day- to improve my mind." 
 
 " I think, if you do not mind my saying it. I would 
 give up a servant or two and use what they are paid 
 for the subscription, and then take time; for if you 
 are like me you will soon have no mind to improve, 
 living as you do, so cut off from the world." 
 
 Mrs. Mackenzie, ignoring the hint as to servants, 
 said : 
 
 "I fancy you arc not very different from the rest 
 of humanity in regard to your mind. We never 
 mean to allow our minds to shrink and fall away, but 
 there is such a rush and demand for every bit there is 
 in us of body and mind that no strength is left for 
 acquiring anything new."
 
 80 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 "That is the very reason why yon need to be add 
 ing ; the exhaustion is so perpetual you cannot surely 
 do as good work after several years of this process, 
 nor can your judgment be so good; and altogether 
 you cannot be of so much use to the mission." 
 
 "True," was the answer, given a little sadly; "I 
 have myself often gone over this same ground, espe 
 cially when I have noticed some marked case of 
 stunted growth or checked development in people 
 who gave great promise ; and to me it is the greatest 
 sacrifice I make that is, to resign myself to being an 
 inferior person when there might be a possibility of 
 being the opposite." 
 
 " But why not give up a servant or two and have 
 the subscription to the library ? I shall do it if I can." 
 
 " That last clause is well put if you can. I did 
 not want to begin the servant question, for I should 
 fail to make myself understood. It is the one thing 
 that people cannot forgive us. Whether or not they 
 think we can be teaching one school and superintend 
 ing half a dozen others, or visiting a hundred zenanas 
 a week, and at the same time cooking a dinner, is more 
 than my feeble mind can divine. However, as you 
 are come to be a missionary I will ask you at the end 
 of three months to give up one or two or three or 
 four, and see what you will say." 
 
 " But tell me this at least. Is it not a great care to 
 keep so many up to their work ? " 
 
 " Care ? Look at my hair and see how gray it is. 
 I believe every man about the house brings me an 
 added gray hair every day of my life." 
 
 " Then why do you have so many, for it certainly 
 seems to me that you have altogether too many. Of
 
 IN THE BAZAR. 81 
 
 course I know in a general way their caste prevents 
 their doing various kinds of work ; but as you have 
 part Christian servants I suppose you find them will 
 ing to do anything." 
 
 " There is some difference, but custom is strong, and 
 cannot be changed in a day." 
 
 " Xow. your cook, for instance ; lie is a strong man 
 and is a faithful Christian, you tell me. He should 
 do all your work, and I should insist on his doing it." 
 
 " Try it, try it, and then we will compare experi 
 ences, and I assure you beforehand of my utmost 
 sympathy." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton was becoming annoyed at the evasive 
 answers to her questions. She could not see why 
 they should not be answered, and her annoyance made 
 her lose her caution. 
 
 "I will most certainly try it, for that is just what I 
 am here for," with a little touch of anger in her voice. 
 
 There was a dead silence ; then, in a voice strained 
 to appear indifferent, Mrs. Mackenzie said : 
 
 "You mean that you, knowing nothing of the coun 
 try and the language and customs of the people, ex 
 pect to be able to teach us who have been here for 
 years how to live economically? " 
 
 " Yes, if you choose to put it that way." 
 
 "And that you came as a spy, if I choose to put it 
 so?" 
 
 " Yes," was the short answer. She made this short 
 answer because in a way it was the truth, and she 
 felt too irritated to explain that it was not the whole 
 truth that she had come as a sympathetic spy, anxious 
 to prove that the missionaries were right. She felt 
 that Mrs. Mackenzie should know that without ex-
 
 82 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 planation, while Mrs. Mackenzie felt that her guest 
 was conceited and mistaken and unkind to a degree 
 that she could not express, though there were some 
 things in her mind that she could hardly keep from 
 saying ; but having plenty of self-control she sat silent 
 until they were back home and met by their husbands 
 and a Mr. Kokewood, who were all more than ready 
 for their dinner. 
 
 While these two good women had been manufactur 
 ing trouble for themselves out of nothing, the Bishop, 
 having finished his visit to the publishing house, went 
 on an exploring tour about the city, dropping in at 
 several mission houses for a few minutes and then 
 wandering on through the bazar. 
 
 He loitered longest in the manufacturing streets, 
 where in all the little open stalls sat men with rude 
 tools fashioning things for the use of the world. 
 There was a fascination to him in seeing the interior 
 working of the city exposed in this manner. It was 
 like having the heart and lungs of a live man under 
 glass, where the public could see every inhalation, 
 every throb of vein and artery. The publicity of 
 everything the finding all stores, tailor shops, banks, 
 restaurants, manufactories of gold and silver, in fact, 
 everything that had to be made and bought and sold, 
 within half a foot of the garis and foot passengers 
 was a genuine surprise; for, having had the privacy 
 of family life in India so firmly fixed in his mind, he 
 had ascribed to these people great delicacy of senti 
 ment and feeling, which sentiment vanished forever 
 when he saw children eight, nine, and even ten years 
 old, quite, and grown men half naked ; and as he 
 went about poking his cane into idol manufactories,
 
 IN THE BAZAR. 83 
 
 into seeds and grains, into stonecutters' shops, lie re 
 volved in his mind a grand governmental scheme for 
 clothing the people. 
 
 He lingered longest over the potter who, as he 
 turned his wheel evolving an etruscan-shaped water 
 jar, also evolved a whole sermon out of the Bishop's 
 mind ; and the two women in blue and red drapery 
 turning the heavy millstone gave him another sermon, 
 or rather vivified an old one, on two women grinding 
 at a mill "one shall be taken and the other left." 
 Leaving these at last, he found himself away from 
 the bazar, and in trying to return to it he got into a 
 park which formed the inner court of an old palace. 
 He sauntered through this, listening now and then to 
 the talk of voung native men in a semi-native dress 
 
 / o 
 
 consisting of a round smoking-cap, tight-fitting long 
 coat, and patent-leather shoes, who were constantly 
 passing. He was surprised to find so many of them 
 talking in English, and good English, though gener 
 ally with a very strong Hindoostanee accent. 
 
 A number seeing that he was idling about said 
 " Good even" with hand lifted to the forehead. This 
 gesture, called " salaaming," was extremely pleasant 
 to the Bishop ; it was at once so graceful, so respect 
 ful, and also so self-respectful, for only a native gen 
 tleman who thoroughly respects himself can give a 
 perfect salaam. 
 
 He finally joined a group and asked them about 
 the park and the old palace. 
 
 One after another of the men who were passing 
 joined them to find out of what so big and fine a 
 looking sahib could be talking. 
 
 Then one man came who knew of him, and he told
 
 84 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 the others in Ilindoostanee that this was the Lord Sa 
 hib of the Christians who ruled over all the ordinary 
 padris, or ministers. This led them to questions, 
 which led to talk on religion, and almost before he 
 knew it he 'was speaking to a good audience, and con 
 scious of a thrill of joy when he realized that he was 
 actually, as he had dreamed of doing, standing up as 
 a missionary preaching to heathen. 
 
 These men were gentle, intelligent, and refined, and, 
 it seemed to the new missionary, exceedingly simple 
 and susceptible, but he had no means by which to 
 gauge them. 
 
 The coming man, or you might say, the " Young 
 America" of India, is in a transition stage. lie lias 
 left off the old ways, but has not arrived at a settled 
 stage of new things. He is fearful that he may go 
 back to the old ignorant worship and more fearful of 
 going forward to new beliefs. lie sneers at the igno 
 rant superstition of his mother, and less at those of his 
 wife, because she, also touched by the spirit of prog 
 ress, has fewer at which he can sneer. 
 
 He feels the embryo of something new, of some 
 thing better in himself, but he has not learned to 
 handle his astonishing superiority and the astonishing 
 amount of knowledge he has acquired. He may have 
 risen from the merchant class or the artisan class, or 
 even the servant class, to being a teacher or clerk, or 
 baboo, as they are called, but he has generally risen 
 too far or not far enough. He aspires to English 
 clothes, to swearing, to drinking wine, to philosophy, 
 but more than all these, to an umbrella. lie is clever, 
 has good intentions, but he lacks ballast, and is an 
 anomaly, as all things in a transition stage must be.
 
 IN THE BAZAR. 85 
 
 He will, however, develop, and his grandchildren 
 will be settled, sensible men, good citizens, and loyal 
 to the government which he himself condemns be 
 cause it does not furnish patent-leather shoes and un 
 limited "pensins" to all who have passed their B. A. 
 examinations. 
 
 This is the kind of material on which the Bishop 
 began his missionary work. 
 
 After telling simply the old story of the sin of the 
 world, of the prophecy of the coming Power that 
 should conquer sin, of the arrival in the world of that 
 Power, and of the expiation of the sin of the world 
 on the cross, he said : 
 
 " Is there anything in this message that the Light of 
 the World brought for yo;i ? He came equally for all 
 men,' for you and for me. Remember this, he came 
 for .you" looking into one beautiful face which had 
 not been turned once from his while he was talking 
 " and will you not accept him ? " 
 
 The earnest face was a little confused, and the 
 graceful head was lowered as he said : 
 
 " I I not spik Englis I make learn from you 
 I not see other sahibs to talk karo." 
 
 There was a shadow of a smile on some of the faces, 
 and the Bishop said : 
 
 "I do not quite catch your meaning." 
 
 Then up spoke a brave baboo, who knew English 
 full well : 
 
 " He says, sir, that he wants to learn English, and 
 as he knows no sahibs he was listening to learn it of 
 you." 
 
 The Bishop's heart fell. And so this was all this 
 man and also the others wanted ? lie had thought
 
 86 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 his words were sinking in good soil, and he had only 
 been giving the man a lesson in English! But 
 another said : 
 
 " Sir, if yon will allow me, I will ask a question." 
 
 "Certainly," said the Bishop, brightening. 
 
 "Did the divine Spirit descend upon Christ when 
 he was baptized by John the Baptist?" 
 
 " Yes," said the Bishop. 
 
 "Then, sir, was not Jesus divine before that, or 
 did his divinity begin with his baptism by an ordi 
 nary human ? If this latter, then may not any one of 
 us become divine by baptism ? " 
 
 The Bishop was bewildered, not by the question so 
 much, for he was sound on theology, but by its com 
 ing from such an unexpected source. He gave the 
 answer lamely and in a way that he felt carried little 
 meaning. 
 
 Then another said : 
 
 " If I may be allowed I will also one question ask. 
 Judas committed a foreseen act. Should he have 
 been punished for a foreseen act that was to make and 
 bring to pass all the good of which you have told 
 us?" 
 
 Ah, this answer would require time, and before he 
 could frame an answer which would reach their hearts 
 as well as their heads another gentle-faced man stepped 
 forward and said : 
 
 "There was a law by which prophets were judged. 
 Jesus, a Jew, was tried by a Jewish Sanhedrin and 
 found guilty of blasphemy according to the Jewish 
 law, and where was the wrong in his being punished ?" 
 
 These were not new points, but coming from these 
 gentle-eyed young men, asked in the most polite and
 
 Ix THE BAZAR. 87 
 
 deprecating manner, they were confusing in the ex 
 treme, beyond even his own comprehension, and the 
 consciousness of answering them without force an 
 noyed him and made his words still less satisfactory 
 to himself. But as it was growing dark he knew he 
 must leave them, and he shook hands warmly with 
 each one, the number having dwindled, and invited 
 them most cordially to visit him in his house, when 
 lie should be settled, and discuss these points at 
 length, as they w r ere not questions to be disposed of 
 lightly. 
 
 His manner was kind, and as a handshake from a 
 man in high position is ever irresistible, so his heart 
 did what his head could not, and won them to a willing 
 ness to believe what he said, though no doubt some 
 of them could have answered their own questions 
 better than he did. 
 
 As he went on in the direction of Mackenzie's 
 bungalow he saw on a street that led into the one on 
 which he was a man carrying a heavy valise, and 
 walking as though tired, while two coolies were fol 
 lowing along by him, evidently begging for the priv 
 ilege of carrying the bag. As the roads converged the 
 man stopped and, putting out his hand, said : 
 
 " How do you do, Bishop Clinton ? My name is 
 Hokewood, and I am a missionary." 
 
 "I am glad you know me, for I was wishing I 
 knew you." 
 
 ""Why?" asked Rokewood, smiling; "but I need 
 not ask. It was because I am the first white man you 
 have seen carrying anything larger than an eyeglass 
 since you came to India." 
 
 '' You have guessed very near it," responded the 
 7
 
 S3 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 Bishop, laughing a little. " I should really like t-> 
 know why a man should carry a heavy bag like that, 
 when it would be a favor to these poor fellows to let 
 them carry it for two cents. I see no reason for your 
 doing it, for this air, though cool, takes all the power 
 out of one for walking, to say nothing of carrying a 
 heavy weight." 
 
 " Well, now, Bishop, yen have struck a vital point 
 with me at the beginning. I simply want to show 
 these clerks and shopkeepers and all others the dignity 
 of labor. They would not be seen doing it, but I let 
 them see that a sahib is not ashamed to do it, and then, 
 besides, I want to make myself one with these poor 
 fellows, to show them that to save them I will come 
 down to them." 
 
 " Ah, that is the right spirit ; that is the spirit that 
 will conquer India," said his hearer. " I had been 
 hoping to see more of the same in the mission than I 
 have seen." 
 
 " I am glad of that. I heard you had come 
 to be a missionary for a year, and if you begin on 
 those lines we can work together. I must sav I do 
 
 CJ *i 
 
 not find much sympathy from the missionaries, but I 
 mean to carry out my plan, though. IsVsv, any other 
 man would have hired a gari to come from the station. 
 It is a good three miles' walk, and it takes time, but 
 I could not pay for one, as I am trying to live on the 
 same amount as a native clerk would ; so I must do as 
 he would do, though of course he would not have 
 carried his bag." 
 
 "But what about the cooly? Even though you do 
 show him you are not above doing the same work he 
 does, will he be impressed if he has to go hungry to
 
 IN THE BAZAR. 89 
 
 bed to-night because of the lack of the two cents lie 
 
 O 
 
 might have earned ?" 
 
 O 
 
 " Yes." was the answer, " there is that side of the 
 question, and it often puzzles me, but I would rather 
 give him the two cents than let him think I am above 
 carrying a valise." 
 
 "But there, again, it can never be beneficial to give 
 a man what he is able to earn ; for when you do so 
 you make a pauper of him, and that is a lasting in 
 jury." 
 
 " O, yes ; that is what the other missionaries are al 
 ways saying; but I am not responsible for the way 
 they take it. I am only responsible for myself, and 
 for carrying out my own convictions." 
 
 " That is poor reasoning. You are responsible for 
 their 'salvation, and yon do this to show them you 
 have sympathy with them; then yon say you are not 
 responsible for their being hungry, or for making 
 them paupers? Now, then, as to hiring a gari. After 
 you have walked three miles and carried this valise 
 you will be unfit for more work this evening." 
 
 lie hoped he would be contradicted, but Rokewood 
 assented. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " but I do not believe in mission 
 aries riding when they can walk, or hiring work done 
 when they can do it themselves." 
 
 " Not even if the mission gains in the end tenfold 
 by their driving or by their hiring work done? " asked 
 the Bishop, ironically. He liked people to be reason 
 able. 
 
 " But it's the example I am insisting on," answered 
 Rokewood, doggedly. 
 
 They were at Mackenzie's bungalow, and Macken-
 
 00 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 zie himself, coming across from the back road, joined 
 them at the steps, hearing the last remark. 
 
 " What example ? though I need not ask. Eoke- 
 wood is giving you his theories. lie thinks it worth 
 while for the mission to go to the expense of sending 
 a man out here and of keeping him here to do coolies' 
 work, which he cannot do as well as the cooly him 
 self, and for the sake of doing it he will leave undone 
 work which no one else can do, and which, worse still, 
 if he does not do it, will be forever undone," said Mac 
 kenzie, gravely. " There are more coolies here than 
 there is work already, and I do not see the need of 
 adding myself to the number, even though Roke- 
 wood is anxious to place himself with them. For it 
 amounts to that. It is work that Indians cannot do 
 which will lift India up, and we have no right to 
 waste precious strength which is necessary to the ac 
 complishment of mental and spiritual work." 
 
 Mrs. Mackenzie and Mrs. Clinton came in just 
 then, and during dinner the conversation was on these 
 same lines, the Bishop siding with Rokewood, on 
 general principles, but disagreeing in some particular 
 instances ; but neither of the ladies took any part in 
 it, and that night Mrs. Clinton said to herself: 
 
 " This is the evening and the morning of the first 
 day, and if I did not know to the contrary I would 
 say it was the evening and the morning of the first 
 month, I have seen and learned so much, and to-rnor- 
 row I will begin to be a missionary and see for myself 
 what can be done."
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 91 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 
 
 THE morning of the second day Mrs. Clinton 
 announced that they would have breakfast under 
 their own vine and fig-tree. The Bishop looked 
 dubious, and the face of Mr. Miller, who had come 
 to take him to see the boys' schools in the city, ex 
 pressed astonishment enough to warrant the use of 
 the term thunderstruck, but, as men do, he waited-till 
 he got the Bishop alone to make inquiries. 
 
 Mr. Mackenzie remonstrated with Mrs. Clinton, 
 begging her to stay with them and go back and forth 
 between the two houses until she had settled her own 
 and was sure the machinery would be in good work 
 ing order; but Mrs. Mackenzie said nothing. She 
 was deeply hurt, and a little indignant withal. She 
 said to herself, though she would have liked to say it 
 to her guest : 
 
 "They may take their own way. They have come, 
 with insufferable conceit, thinking that they, with 
 no experience of the country, can manage better 
 than all the hundreds of men and women who have 
 come and gone in the mission. Do they not sup 
 pose there might be a few clever women and good 
 managers in all the number that are still in the 
 field ? Even among the New England women, so 
 famous for economy and thrift, do they not think
 
 92 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 one might have been found to simplify household 
 matters, if they could be simplified ? Yet the mis 
 sionaries' wives are all alike, groaning under the 
 bondage of caste and the exigencies of the country 
 that force them to have their household work distrib 
 uted among so many." So much for that side of the 
 question. But the hurt was deeper than the resent 
 ment. They, coming in this way, represented the sen 
 timent of the dear people in the dear home land. 
 
 In all the weariness of the hct weather and of 
 dangerous disease and separation from home and 
 friends and country the thought of the many who 
 had followed them with sympathy in their work had 
 again and again cheered their hearts when almost 
 ready to sink ; and though not given to posing as a 
 heroine, the thought of being known as one leading 
 an heroic life, and honored for it, had been a stimulus 
 to her, just as the soldier at the outpost is upheld by 
 the honor of having the most hazardous place given 
 him, and knows if he falls doing a dangerous duty all 
 men will feel a thrill of sympathy which they would 
 not have felt had he died in the ordinary routine of 
 life. This sympathy had been much to her, and 
 much to ail the missionaries, even from those who loved 
 all the good things of life, too much to give them up 
 themselves. "While the missionaries had seen the un 
 kind and absurd things said of them (for now the 
 regular weekly mail rarely came without bringing 
 letters or papers that showed more or less distrust of 
 missions), yet they had never given these criticisms 
 serious attention, for they would not believe they 
 \vere the expression of the Church. Sometimes they 
 would sav thev would answer such and such remarks
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 93 
 
 if they had time, and now and then they would laugh 
 over some absurd thing, and now and then they 
 would be indignant at some misrepresentation, but 
 on the whole they had not been sorry for the criti 
 cism, because they said it might waken an interest 
 that would in the end be beneficial, and they knew 
 that whatever outside people might say they had the 
 Church with them. 
 
 " Evidently now, this comfort," said Mrs. Macken 
 zie to herself, " must also be given up. We were 
 mistaken ; the Church must believe these things, else 
 why should a bishop and his wife be sent to investi 
 gate?" 
 
 It was this that made her sad and silent. It was 
 as though the Church actually distrusted not only the 
 methods and plans of campaign, but the men and 
 women she had ordained and sent out. If so it was 
 a mistaken policy, for when did ever a general win 
 a great victory by saying to his soldiers : 
 
 "Though I have given you the work requiring 
 discretion and courageous self-sacrifice, and have com 
 manded you to be ready to face death rather than 
 defeat, I neither trust to the former nor will I believe 
 you have the latter." 
 
 So the old feeling of glory in standing in the front 
 of battle must be given up ; but the work itself was 
 worth inexpressibly more than glory, and needed not 
 to be gilded by any false light, though it hurt how 
 it hurt ! 
 
 And Mrs. Clinton was not happy, as she said, in 
 deep self-condemnation, while packing her trunk : 
 
 " There is at least one woman who would never 
 do as an ambassador or a diplomatist ; " and she for-
 
 ^4 TEE BISHOP'S COXVKKSION. 
 
 ventlj hoped her husband would not chance to hear 
 how foolish she had been. Foolish, because all mis 
 sionaries ultimately know what one missionary knows, 
 and when it was once generally known that they had 
 come to spy and correct they would be at once shut 
 out from the sympathy of the mission, and this would 
 be fatal to their object. AY hen she thought of trying 
 to explain she knew it would be impossible, for 
 though she had told the warped truth, the untrue 
 truth, yet it was the truth, nevertheless. 
 
 " I am sorry," said Mrs. Mackenzie, as her guest 
 was taking leave, " that I cannot go with you to 
 help you, but there is an amount of proof for the paper 
 to be corrected that is appalling, besides a roll proof of 
 the annual reports of the woman's work, of which I 
 am editor, and I have not finished the table of statis 
 tics for the same ; but I will give you Katie as inter 
 preter and general expositor. She can tell you every 
 thing about the house and the servants, and can 
 interpret better than I can." 
 
 " O," said Mrs. Clinton, deprecatingly, " I would 
 not think of taking you from your work. I must do 
 as other missionaries do, help myself." 
 
 " There is one thing, however, that I can do, and 
 that is to lend you anything you may need for a week 
 or so, or until you can supply yourself. Just send me 
 a list and be mild and moderate in your demands, for 
 notwithstanding the luxury in which we are supposed 
 to be rolling there are very narrow limitations to the 
 stock of things we keep on hand." 
 
 This was said with a smile, and Mrs. Clinton re 
 plied with a smile which was rather forced, for she had 
 no words, and then she drove awav with her trunks
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 95 
 
 on top of a hired wooden carriage, Lillian and Katie 
 on the front seat chattering volubly. 
 
 There are several kinds of houses on the plains of 
 India, but those used by Europeans are chiefly of two 
 kinds, kothi and bungalow. The former is built of 
 sun-dried and kiln-burnt brick, and has a square-topped 
 roof, held together by wooden rafters, etc., or by rail 
 road iron. The latter has a sloping roof, tiled or 
 thatched with straw or grass, and is much cooler than 
 the kothi, but not so clean and safe from leakage ; also 
 it is not so free from snakes, scorpions, and centipedes, 
 which have an abrupt way of dropping down on one 
 that is neither conducive to comfort, to peace of mind, 
 nor always to long life. 
 
 This particular mission house, wherein a year of ex- 
 perhnental life was to be spent, was a bungalow with 
 tiled roof, and furnished with the absolutely needful 
 heavy furniture that is, tables and chairs and beds, 
 two or three cupboards, a bookcase, a desk, and a 
 couch. All were made rather roughly, but of good 
 \vood ; and the beds consisted of a wooden frame, across 
 which was stretched coarse hand-woven tape. 
 
 There were six rooms besides verandas and bath 
 rooms ; the rectangular sitting room, back of that the 
 dining room, both in the middle of the house, the 
 former opening upon the front veranda and the latter 
 on the back veranda, which commanded a view of 
 the cookhouse. On the west side of these rooms 
 were two of the same size, used for bedrooms ; on the 
 east were two more, one used as study and office, and 
 the other as a bedroom. This was the extent of the 
 house, except tw r o small rooms and bath rooms. The 
 walls were roughly whitewashed, and the floors were
 
 96 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 sun-dried brick, plastered over with mud and lime. 
 Windows there were none, but the upper part of each 
 door was of glass and gave light enough for all pur 
 poses, except on very dark and cloudy days. 
 
 The three wandered through the house, the elder 
 of them wondering how the great, dreary, desolate 
 rooms were ever to be made habitable. 
 
 A woman, on entering a house in which she ex 
 pects to live, as naturally goes straight to the kitchen 
 as a pointer points game. But here Mrs. Clinton's 
 instinct did not serve her, for she found nothing that 
 even in a remote idea corresponded to it. 
 
 Calling Katie, she asked for the kitchen. Katie 
 looked blank and finally said, falteringly, that she did 
 not know what " kitchen" meant. Lillian was amazed, 
 and Mrs. Clinton smiled. 
 
 " Where is the stove for cooking ? " 
 
 Katie grew positively red with shame. She had 
 been born in India and had never heard the word be 
 fore. 
 
 "Well, my dear, I see you do not know what 
 * stove' means either; but can you tell me where our 
 breakfast will be cooked ? " 
 
 Katie's face brightened : 
 
 " Of course I know the bawarchi khana," she 
 laughed ; " I like going there, but it is locked, though 
 the cook is coining," she added, pointing to a man who 
 was hurrying toward the cookhouse, followed by a 
 half-naked cooly with a large shallow basket on his 
 head. Another like him with another large flat basket 
 on his head came on behind, and beyond him was still 
 another straggling across the compound. The coolies 
 came straight to the veranda, put their baskets at
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 97 
 
 Mrs. Clinton's feet, salaamed, and said something 
 which Katie translated as asking for payment for 
 bringing the baskets. 
 
 Airs. Clinton took out her purse and asked Katie 
 how much she hmst pay them. They, with eyes quick 
 to see that Mrs. Clinton was new to their country, 
 asked four times. the right price. Katie laughed and 
 said something to them at which they too laughed. 
 Then catching tip her hat she ran to the cookhouse, 
 asked the cook the right price, and came back saying 
 each was to have two annas, or about five cents. She 
 helped Mrs. Clinton count it out and gave it to the 
 men, telling them next time they came to be careful 
 and tell no lies. They grinned with admiration at 
 her cleverness, and went off with their baskets turned 
 over their heads like bonnets. 
 
 "Why did not the cook bring this basket ? " asked 
 Mr*. Clinton of Katie, pointing to one filled with 
 vegetables and meat, evidently the purchases of the 
 cook. 
 
 Katie looked surprised, and said : 
 
 " 0, it is only the coolies who bring things on 
 their heads. Cooks are not coolies, and they do not 
 bring things on their heads." 
 
 " They might have another kind of basket and bring 
 it in their hands." 
 
 " Yes," said Katie, doubtfully, " if it vere very 
 small. Sometimes cooks bring things tied in a jharan 
 in their hands, but never on their heads." 
 
 The cook laid out the things he had bought. There 
 was a thin, scraggy-looking quarter of mutton, and a 
 piece for chops, some carrots, pease, cauliflower, a little 
 rice, a little pepper, a little salt in big lumps, a little
 
 98 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 cinnamon, a few cloves, some fresli ginger root, all 
 tied up in bits of dirty rags; a paper bag of sugar, be 
 sides a little flour, and a little something that looked 
 like lard, but which Katie said was " ghi," or melted 
 butter, and a few small potatoes. After looking them 
 over Mrs. Clinton concluded she did not want any 
 breakfast, but told Katie to tell him to prepare what 
 he could, and as quickly -as possible. 
 
 They all followed him out to the cookhouse, to his 
 evident consternation. When Mrs. Clinton saw the 
 mnd range built up at one side of the mud hut, saw 
 the round, strange-looking cooking-pots, saw the ab 
 sence of a chimney for the smoke to escape, and saw 
 the cook's strange process of building a fire, she at 
 once and forever abandoned any slight idea of doing 
 the cooking herself. She felt rather relieved that 
 one point was settled that it was not within the range 
 of possibilities for one not to the manor born to 
 do cooking in India, even in cold weather. She could 
 have gone as easily into a shop and made American 
 cooking utensils as she could have cooked in an Indian 
 cookhouse on an Indian fireplace. Going out quickly, 
 with eyes streaming from the smoke, she surveyed the 
 compound. In a distant corner under a clump of 
 bananas was the well, and a man slowly pulling up a 
 leathern skin full of water. 
 
 " Here at least is one chance of cutting down the 
 list; the cook shall draw the water. If he only cooks 
 for three people he will have time enough," she said. 
 
 Just then Lillian came around the corner of the 
 house and said : 
 
 " There is a lady here to see you, and Katie says it 
 is Miss Whitlow.""
 
 OPKXIXG HOUSEKEEPING. 99 
 
 Miss Whitlow's name had long been a familiar one 
 to Mrs. Clinton, and she hurried into the sitting room, 
 where she saw a tall, strong woman with a broad felt hat 
 on her head and a look of pain on her face, who said : 
 
 " I did not meet yon at the station last night, as I 
 had a headache. I could do no work this morning, 
 so I thought I would come and see you." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton smiled at her candid suggestion that 
 she would not have come if she could have worked ; 
 and she went on : 
 
 "I went down to the Mackenzies' bungalow, and 
 you can, or rather you cannot, imagine my amazement 
 at finding you had come to stay and to be mission 
 aries, and were already in your own house. Perhaps 
 you do not know that if you do things so suddenly in 
 India you will make our heads swim and give your 
 selves sunstroke, or something worse." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton laughed. 
 
 "You must remember that we are Americans, and 
 accustomed to be in a hurry/' 
 
 " Well, be gentle in your movements, in mercy to us 
 who have lived many years in a land where the motto 
 is, 'Xever do to-day what yon can put off till to 
 morrow.' But, seriously, I am alive with curiosity. 
 Have you really come as a spy not to spy out the 
 nakedness of the land, but the opulence and the ex 
 travagance, the bad management and idleness of the 
 missionaries and to be a sort of Moses to lead us into 
 a land of better things ? " 
 
 Mrs. Clinton's face had flushed, and she looked 
 thoroughly annoyed : 
 
 'Who has said such an absurd thing? Did Mrs. 
 Mackenzie ? Surely she was not justified
 
 100 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " Mrs. Mackenzie said nothing of yon but what was 
 kind and complimentary. She said casually that yon 
 were going to try to live just as economically as pos 
 sible, and if I could give you any hints as to the best 
 manner of so doing she was sure yon would be glad. 
 But as I know a bishop's family cannot be in very 
 straitened circumstances there must be some reason 
 for this strange resolution, and there has been so much 
 criticism on us at home for daring to claim the right 
 of living like ordinary mortals, I just guessed it. I 
 assure you we will all give you our hearty sympathy. 
 If you can find any cheaper or more comfortable way 
 of living, provided your plan will not interfere with 
 our work or our health, we will be glad indeed ; for 
 you know that most of us put all the money we can 
 save into schools and Bible women, and it will sim 
 ply mean more schools and more work; and let me 
 tell yon, there is absolutely no limit to our work ex 
 cept the limits made by the lack of workers and 
 money to support the workers. But on what line 
 are you going to begin ? " 
 
 "The first thing that struck me was the number of 
 men employed to do the housework. Tell me ex 
 actly how many you consider necessary ; " and she 
 took out her pocket notebook. 
 
 " First, a cook, and if you have a large family he 
 will insist on having a boy to wash dishes." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton wrote " Cook," and said, " I grant the 
 cook, for I see that he is absolutely indispensable, but 
 not the boy." 
 
 " No ; your family is small, and though he will ask 
 for one it is not necessary. Xext, a 'khidmatgar,' or 
 table servant. He will wait at the table, make the
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 101 
 
 tea and toast in the morning, which all have to have 
 before going to work, and help the cook generally." 
 
 " Why cannot the cook make the tea and toast and 
 wait on the table and ' help the cook generally ? ' ' 
 
 "He must go to the bazar every morning early, if 
 you want to get good meat and vegetables. If he 
 waits to make the tea and toast you will not get good 
 food, and let me emphasize one thing : it is not safe 
 in India to eat any but good meat and the best of 
 everything else you can get." 
 
 " Could I not make the tea and toast myself ? " 
 
 "Yes, during this month and next, perhaps, if you 
 have time ; after that you must have something as 
 soon as you are dressed, to keep your strength up 
 during the day. Indeed, very many hard-working 
 people take their tea before they rise, which to us, of 
 course, seems a very indolent habit. Next on the 
 list is a ' bearer,' who dusts the house twice a day, which 
 is no small job, and he looks after the other servants. 
 A really good and trusty man will save you an im 
 mense amount of care and anxiety, but many people 
 who have small families combine bearer and khid- 
 matgar. Mrs. Mackenzie has kept but one man 
 for both kinds of work, but it insures a good deal of 
 trouble, for it is impossible or next to impossible to 
 have the work done well and the house kept clean 
 with only one, and then the bearer will see that the 
 others do not steal too much from you." 
 
 "Steal!" exclaimed Lillian, with wide-open eyes 
 full of fear. " Are they all thieves ? " 
 
 " !Xo, my dear, no ; there is really only one profes 
 sional thief in each house." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton's eyes now matched Lillian's. Vague
 
 102 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 thoughts of the horrors of the mutiny were passing 
 through her mind, for the word thief seems always 
 to have other crimes grouped around it in people's 
 minds. 
 
 Miss Whitlow laughed. 
 
 ' ; Your night-watchman, otherwise the chaukedar, 
 is of the thief caste, and as long as he stalks up and 
 down your compound, pouring forth a volley of 
 unearthly yells, or even if he sleeps the whole night 
 through, you may be sure no thieves will come about 
 your place. Then there is the sweeper and the water- 
 carrier, the man to wash your clothes, the man to sew, 
 and the man to pull the punkah, and the t\vo men for 
 your horse." 
 
 " Two men ! " exclaimed Mrs. Clinton, fairly be 
 wildered ; " this is indeed going beyond reason ; two 
 men for one little horse ! Surely one man can be 
 made to do the work, can he not ? " 
 
 " Yes, with a good deal of trouble it can be done, but 
 it costs just as much to buy your grass as to keep a man 
 to cut it, and is very inconvenient. The first man has 
 charge of the horse, harness, and gari ; keeps them clean 
 and oiled, gets the latter mended, superintends the 
 shoeing of the horse, buys the feed, and drives when 
 you have not a conveyance which you can drive your 
 self. . The second man goes out early to the jungle, 
 miles away, cuts a day's allowance of grass, and brings 
 it home on his head. After he has cleaned the horse 
 and stable he is free to go on errands or carry mes 
 sages ; you will find it very necessary to have such a 
 man. People who have much work and different 
 kinds keep a man whose sole duty is to carry mes 
 sages and notes."
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 103 
 
 " Do you find it absolutely necessary to have a 
 horse and conveyance ? " Mrs. Clinton asked, in rather 
 a despairing tone. She was beginning to feel that if 
 she were able to keep house in India, to say nothing 
 of doing any mission work, she would have her hands 
 full. 
 
 " Yes, if we wish to do any mission work it is in 
 dispensable unless we have school work in the same 
 house or very near. Usually the different parts of 
 the work are so far apart that walking is an utter im 
 possibility. In that case we would have to hire a gari 
 every time we went out, which would not pay. In 
 the hot weather people must have a gari in which to 
 go out and get the air in the evenings or die. So 
 your economies will not be able to touch any of these." 
 
 " But you spoke of the extra man for washing. 
 Surely among so many the washing might be done 
 without an especial man. It is simply an absurdity to 
 call in a man for that." 
 
 " Well, in a way it is, but in another way it is not. 
 In the first place, your servants and their wives do not 
 even know how to do their own washing and ironing, 
 so how could they do yours?" she added, persuasively. 
 "In the second place, tubs and soap and starch and 
 fire would cost more, far more, even if you did your 
 washing with your own hands, than you pay the man 
 that takes your clothes down to the river, bleaches 
 them on the sands in the hot sun, irons them in his 
 own house, and brings them home spick and span, 
 barring the loss of buttons." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton wrote "laundryman" on her paper with 
 a sio;h of relief. The washing at home had been the 
 
 ~ o 
 
 one trial of her life. She hated the smell of suds and
 
 104 TIIK BISHOP'S OONVKKSIOX. 
 
 the sloppy way the best of washerwomen would clo 
 the work in her neat wash room. She had always 
 hated it all, and when she had not been well she had 
 sent it away from the house to be done, though her 
 heart had always condemned her for extravagance in 
 doing so. 
 
 " Washing, starching, and ironing will cost for 
 three of yon only about lifty cents a week, and you 
 know that the appliances and coal would cost that 
 much." 
 
 Miss Whitlow said this in a persuasive manner, for, 
 as Mrs. Clinton sat silent, she was sure she was not 
 pleased. 
 
 "O," said she, " I am only too glad to find that it 
 is economy to have it done away from the house, and 
 if I could send a battalion of these men to America 
 to relieve my fellow-bondslaves there from wash day 
 I would be glad indeed." 
 
 After a little more talk on servants Miss Whitlow 
 rose to go, as Katie came in saying the cook wanted 
 to know if the Mem Sahib had a tablecloth. 
 
 " Yes, I am glad to say I have, for I brought table 
 and bed linen and forks and spoons in the bottom of 
 my trunk." 
 
 " Mrs. Mackenzie asked me to bring Katie back 
 with me if you did not need her." said Miss Whitlow. 
 
 / ' 
 
 " Come, Katie, are you ready 2 O, I have stayed so 
 long that my principal errand has been forgotten. I 
 came to ask you to come to the station meeting at 
 my house Saturday night at seven ;" and she was gone 
 before Mrs. Clinton could ask what the " station 
 meeting " was. 
 
 The Bishop soon came home filled with delight over
 
 THE COOK HOUSE.
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 105 
 
 the four boys' day schools lie had visited in the heart 
 of the native city. He was so interested in telling of 
 the brightness of the boys, of the wonder he had at see 
 ing them so well informed and so well able to repeat 
 psalms, hymns, and portions of the Bible, and was so 
 generally enthusiastic that he was not very critical as 
 to their breakfast ; nor did he seem to be very inter 
 ested in her plans for economy. After prayers, to 
 which the cook was called, and who sat on the floor 
 like a tailor during the reading of the psalm, only 
 bowing his head during prayer, the Bishop went off 
 again with Mr. Miller to see more schools. Then 
 Mrs. Clinton called the cook to her and said : 
 
 "I intend to arrange my house so it will cost as 
 little as possible. This I wish to do that I may help 
 the mission which has done so much and is doing so 
 much for you and your brothers and friends, and I 
 wish you to help me." 
 
 The man salaamed. 
 
 " Xow, for three of us there can be very little 
 work. I shall do some of it myself, and you will do 
 the remainder, for you will be the only man about the 
 place until a horse is bought." 
 
 The man looked troubled. He thought he under 
 stood what she had said ; he knew she was the wife of 
 the Bara Padri Sahib ; so she could hardly be out of 
 her head or have a weak mind, but his English was 
 imperfect and he waited for further developments. 
 The native of India does not often lose his case by 
 being in too much of a hurry. 
 
 " It is the custom here, I am told, to have a man to 
 draw the water from the well and bring it to the 
 house; you certainly can do this yourself. In my
 
 106 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 country the cook brings the water as well as cooks the 
 food." 
 
 " But, Mem Sahib, well very deep, take long, long 
 time to bring water, things all burn in cookhouse, and 
 it not custom here. Me not make bihisti's work." 
 
 " But if I ask you to do so will you not try it for 
 two days ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mem Sahib, if it please you I make an ar 
 rangement for two days." 
 
 "One victory," thought she, " and very easily 
 gained, for if he can do it for two days he will not 
 dare refuse to do it afterward." 
 
 Had she understood the limitless elasticity of the 
 word " arrangement " she could hardly have been so 
 exultant. 
 
 " Now, everybody has a bearer and khidmatgar. I 
 shall not have these. You must wait on the table and 
 I will dust and care for the house. You can cook 
 the food, put it in the dishes, and then put on a clean 
 coat and bring the food in." 
 
 " Yes. your honor ; " but his voice was lifeless, and 
 even his pugri, which \vas so big and overpowering, 
 seemed to lose some of its starched smartness and to 
 wither and droop over his face. 
 
 " This is all right," thought Mrs. Clinton, " he will 
 not mind after a few days ;" so she was encouraged to 
 go on. 
 
 "In my country, which is a great and powerful 
 country,, my cook sweeps my floors. It is always 
 done when only one servant is kept. Can you not 
 also do the sweeping?" 
 
 A look of horror had been gradually stealing over 
 the dark face. The new Mem Sahibs were always
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 107 
 
 funny when they first came out, and said and did many 
 funny things, over which he and his fellow-servants 
 had often made merry around the hookah ; but this 
 surpassed everything ; to be bearer and khidmatgar 
 was bad enough, though it might be done ; but to be 
 water-carrier, and, worst of all and beyond all belief, 
 to be asked to be sweeper ! The new Mem Sahib's hus 
 band was undoubtedly a great and wise man, but she 
 was insane beyond all doubt. A sweeper ! To do the 
 work of one of those depised outcasts! Why, even 
 his fellow-Christians would not eat or drink with him 
 if he did such an awful thing as that ! 
 
 " !N"o, Mem Sahib ! Xo ! It never done. I not 
 sweeper. I I not make cooking for you ; " and he 
 fled in fear and dismay from the room. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton saw the man's unaffected horror ; she 
 was almost sure she had seen his face grow pale, and 
 he had trembled like a leaf in the wind. Pondering 
 on it she decided she must give this up also, and 
 write down " sweeper " under " cook " and keep on in 
 her service Dr. Thompson's sweeper, whom she had 
 seen about the compound. 
 
 She referred to her paper and found it would only 
 add a dollar and a half per month to her expenses, so 
 she went out on the veranda and called to the cook, 
 but he was nowhere to be seen. She went on to the 
 cookhouse, found the key in the door, but no signs of 
 the cook. She came back to the house, her head swim 
 ming and having a strange sick feeling that made her 
 wish to lie down, but she stood in the door a moment 
 trying to think what she ought to do next. She cer 
 tainly could not go to Mrs. Mackenzie and ask her to 
 get another cook ; pride forbade that, and Mrs. Clinton
 
 108 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 had her share of this unregenerate commodity. But 
 how to do otherwise she did not know, unless she asked 
 Miss "Whitlow, and in any case one could not be had in 
 a day. They might be without food for a day or two, 
 and perhaps longer. Mrs. Mackenzie had said that 
 good cooks were very scarce at that time of the year, 
 though three months later there would be plenty, and 
 as to finding another Christian cook, it would probably 
 take a long time, and much of her hope of fairly try 
 ing her experiment lay in having a Christian. While 
 she stood thus she heard a gari, and looking in its 
 direction she saw one of the usual hired carriages, 
 with its wretched, thin, scraggy little ponies and its 
 shabby harness pieced out by bits of rope. The 
 gari had on its top the usual roll of bed and bedding, 
 done up in a bit of striped yarn carpet, the turkey-red 
 quilts showing at each end, and the cabin trunk, and 
 the cane lunch basket, which are the distinguishing 
 marks of the missionary's luggage when he travels. 
 
 The occupant of the gari was looking eagerly about, 
 and the instant the horses stopped was out with an 
 energetic spring that told at least of health. He was 
 in the house and then out, and coming across the com 
 pound, taking a visiting-card out of a notebook as he 
 came, and looking for a servant to present it for him. 
 Seeing none, he advanced toward Mrs. Clinton, who 
 met him with outstretched hand, sure of a friend and 
 almost sure of a future neighbor. 
 
 " I am Carnton ; I have come to fill my appointment 
 at the Christian College, and also, I am very glad to 
 hear, to be a neighbor of yours." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Clinton, leading the way to the 
 sitting room; " my husband told me of you. He said
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. 109 
 
 he knew you. But you were expected before, though 
 no one knew just when you were coming." 
 
 " I did not know myself when I could get off. There 
 are so many people to see and so many last things to 
 do in leaving one station for another that it is impos 
 sible to do it quickly ; and just as I was about to start, 
 ten days ago, a man came from a village not far away 
 and asked me to go and baptize him and his family. 
 I went and stayed until I baptized the whole village ; 
 then I had to arrange for a preacher to be left in the 
 village to take charge of them and keep them in 
 structed, as my successor had not then arrived." 
 
 Noting the gladness on his face, Mrs. Clinton an 
 swered, .sympathetically : 
 
 "It was well worth being detained. Were you far 
 from here ? " 
 
 " Yes, far in more ways than one. I was quite 
 away from any English or Americans, and months 
 sometimes passed without seeing a white face. Five 
 days' march in the mountains from anywhere would 
 about express the situation." 
 
 " You will like this better," she said, looking at the 
 handsome, earnest face, thinking that he belonged 
 with society and with friends. 
 
 "No," smiling; "I confess to you that I do not, but 
 I am under orders, and what I am given to do I try 
 to do with my might, 'heartily as unto the Lord, and 
 not as unto men,' myself among the latter." 
 
 " How could it be possible that you do not like this 
 better ? I can see that you might be willing to stay 
 there, but how could you like it ? " 
 
 There was a smile rather to himself than to her. 
 
 " If I took time to tell you I should miss an engage-
 
 110 THE BISHOP'S CONVKHSION*. 
 
 ment that I must keep, as it is with a native Chris 
 tian; but if you will allow me I will explain when I 
 have time enough to convince you I am in earnest. 
 Now I am in difficulty as to my housekeeping, and 
 have come to throw myself on your mercy." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton looked and felt alarmed. The only 
 thing that was presented to her mind was a vision of 
 her fleeing cook, his white coat-tail waving in the 
 wind as he ran from her. 
 
 Carnton saw her hesitation and hastened to ex 
 plain : 
 
 " I have my cook with me, but no cooking utensils 
 nor anything for the table. I had hoped you would 
 1st me come and have my breakfast and dinners with 
 you ; my cook would assist, and it would really be no 
 trouble to anyone." Then he laughed, such a cheery, 
 happy laugh. " Hear me force myself upon you, and 
 then say that Americans have no cheek. But we are 
 so accustomed to considering ourselves as one family 
 that I forgot you might not understand our encroach 
 ing ways." 
 
 At the mention of his cook the brow of his listener 
 cleared at once, and a burden as heavy as that 
 carried by Atlas rolled off her shoulders. She would 
 now be saved the necessity of an explanation with 
 Mrs. Mackenzie, and she only just now knew how 
 much she had dreaded to go to her and explain. 
 
 " O, it is not that," she hastened to say, " but I 
 have as yet made no arrangements for myself, and I 
 have no cook; otherwise we would be delighted to 
 have you with us." 
 
 " Ah, but perhaps you would not mind letting my 
 cook officiate until you can do better."
 
 OPENING HOUSEKEEPING. Ill 
 
 " I shall be very glad indeed. I really did not 
 know what to do, but this will solve the problem," 
 she said, with a sigh of relief. 
 
 "How have you managed? Perhaps your bearer 
 can cook." 
 
 " I have no bearer ; I had a cook this morning, but 
 he has departed, not to return." 
 
 Carnton looked the inquiry he did not speak. 
 
 "I might as well tell him if he is to be with us," 
 thought she. 
 
 " The cook left because I told him I intended to do 
 as we did in America keep only one person to do the 
 work; that he must carry the water and sweep the 
 floors." 
 
 " What?" cried Carnton aghast, "you do not mean it." 
 
 " Certainly ; why not ? If he is a Christian he 
 cannot be bound by caste." 
 
 "Not by caste, but by custom, and I hardly need 
 tell you that it is utterly impossible. There is not a 
 cook in India that will draw and bring the water and 
 sweep your floors ; and, what is still more serious, I 
 fear you will, when the man once spreads his story, 
 be entirely unable to get anyone at all, even if you 
 now concede these points. I beg your pardon if I 
 am speaking too plainly. I fear we mrsionaries be 
 come rather brusque from our close associations and 
 the uncomfortable way we have of speaking the 
 truth to each other, especially if it be disagreeable; but 
 I will go and send my man over at once." 
 
 The arrangement was made, and Carnton came 
 
 o x 
 
 regularly to his meals, and the cook stayed on, and a 
 water-carrier and sweeper did the work expected of 
 them, and peace reigned for a space.
 
 112 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 VISITING MISSIONARIES. 
 
 THE national practice of reversing the proverb in 
 regard to doing things to-day and not to-morrow 
 prevents any great expedition in settling a house. 
 
 The American, who generally overdoes the matter 
 in trying to do a week's work in one day, finds his 
 practice of rushing and pushing and hurrying as much 
 out of place in India as his furnaces and warm carpets. 
 A whole nation moving in opposite lines to his custom 
 and habits is, at first, trying beyond expression, and 
 the chances are that his gentle and peaceful disposi 
 tion, which was the admiration of his friends, disap 
 pears, and he becomes nervous, irritable, and perhaps 
 bad-tempered. Xo doubt if a person could come to 
 India with plenty of money, and without the slightest 
 interest under the sun in having anything accom 
 plished, he would be in harmony with his environment 
 and all would be well. 
 
 But no one comes under these circumstances, and 
 the only way to save one's time and temper is to have 
 many things brewing at once and possess the soul in 
 patience. 
 
 For instance, a table is sent to the carpenter's shop 
 to be repaired. The carpenter promises faithfully to 
 have it done "kal," that is, to-morrow. You send for 
 it, the shop is locked and the man away somewhere tak-
 
 VISITING MissioxAun -. 113 
 
 ino; other work to be done the following kal. You wait 
 
 O O 
 
 two days and send again. It is not done, but will be kal. 
 You wait a week, because some other things besides 
 sending for the table must be done, and then send again 
 and again. After a month it comes home, only to be 
 returned, because imperfectly repaired. Again, a 
 sewing man, or dirzi, promises to come kal, and sit 
 cross-legged on your veranda and make the white 
 suits the Sahib needs so much. Days go on, and when 
 you have partially engaged another man he presents 
 himself one day when you have a meeting on hand, 
 and cannot measure out the cloth for him, so you will 
 not know if he takes any for his own use, or, worse 
 still, when you cannot give him directions in order 
 that he may not spoil it all. 
 
 Another man promises to come kal and bring glass 
 and putty to mend the doors which the men broke 
 when they were taking down the punkah poles. You 
 are in a hurry to have it done. It ought to have been 
 done months ago, but now the hot winds are begin 
 ning to blow, and the house must be hermetically 
 closed. Days pass, and then when you send to inquire 
 you are told he has gone to another station, or that he 
 is very ill. The latter excuse may mean that he has 
 more lucrative work on hand. You engage another, 
 and he also promises to come kal, and you are uncom 
 monly lucky if your work is done after five or six 
 days. These are only examples ; the whole round of 
 life is the same, and reminds one of the remark on 
 jam by " Alice in Wonderland : " 
 
 "We always have jam to-morrow or yesterday, but 
 never to-day." 
 
 This is made more applicable to the case by the fact
 
 114 THE BISHOP'S CON VERSION. 
 
 that the word " kal " means both to-morrow and yes 
 terday, and shows the utter indifference of the Hindoo 
 to time. 
 
 The house in which the Clintons were domiciled 
 had been left hurriedly by the Thompsons, and there 
 was much to be done plaster to be patched, nails to 
 be driven, new matting to be put down, a chair or 
 two to be repaired, and some general cleaning and 
 whitewashing which had not been done at the close of 
 the hot season, the usual time for repairs, because of 
 the illness of Mrs. Thompson. When Mrs. Clinton 
 consulted Mr. Carnton that first evening at dinner 
 he said he would tell the cook to call the men to the 
 house who would make the repairs. They would 
 come and do it while die was making calls or seeing 
 mission work if she would first show the cook what 
 she wanted done, as it must be supervised by some 
 one. It was really the bearer's work, and she must 
 not expect it would be done properly without a bearer 
 to supervise, as the cook did not understand it, and he 
 would be in the cookhouse and could not answer for 
 the safety of things in the rooms where the men 
 would work. 
 
 Then she said she would stay at home and have 
 work done only in two rooms at once, and Lillian 
 could watch them in one room and she in another, 
 which to Carnton seemed a great waste of time. At 
 any rate, he advised her not to stay at home the first 
 day, but go and make calls with him. He further 
 explained that it was the duty of every new person 
 coming to a place to make the first calls on all the 
 English and Americans living in the station, and if 
 they were pleased with him they returned his calls ; if
 
 VISITING MISSIONARIES. 115 
 
 not, the calls were ignored. He had just two days in 
 which to settle his house, make his calls, then would 
 come Sunday, and on Monday his work would begin 
 in the college. He did not like to make calls, and was 
 glad he had no more time ; but there were a few 
 places he must go to, and he begged her to go with 
 him. The Bishop was deep in mission work, and 
 utterly refused to go, though he insisted, like many 
 another missionary, on his wife doing duty for both. 
 
 So a gari Mas hired, and they started out early in 
 the morning to visit the missionaries and see their 
 work. It is not too much to say that Mrs. Clinton 
 loathed hired garis, because they were dirty and rat 
 tled, and because the drivers beat the poor horses that 
 always looked ready to drop with overwork and lack 
 of food. She would have walked had the distance 
 permitted; and she was pleased to see that it would 
 cost them more to hire a conveyance than it would to 
 buy a comfortable little phaeton and a decent horse. 
 
 There was another drawback to her going out be 
 sides hiring garis. She had been advised by Mrs. 
 Mackenzie not to leave Lillian alone with the serv 
 ants, but to hire a native Christian woman to stay 
 with her while she was out ; but as she meant to be 
 out every day it would add another to the list of peo 
 ple she was having to do her work, and she was not 
 ready to do that yet, though she much wanted Lillian 
 to go on with her lessons, which she could not do if 
 she always went with her mother. However, she 
 had to take her this time. They went first to the 
 High School and Christian College. 
 
 The building in which this was held was well 
 built and commodious and set in the center of a large
 
 116 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 compound in which were growing many young trees. 
 Across the road was another building in its first stages, 
 which would be still larger and which would be for 
 the college solely. At one side were long rows of 
 houses where boys slept and ate ; the missionary's 
 bungalow was also in the same compound. 
 
 The Bishop had preceded them with Mr. Miller. 
 They found the boys coming in for morning 
 prayers as they arrived, and Mrs. Clinton watched 
 them with great interest as they came quietly and 
 gently into the room, salaaming to her as they passed, 
 their embroidered caps and coats of various colors and 
 materials bringing out the exquisite olive tint of 
 their skins and the soft brilliance of their dark eyes 
 in a most pleasing way and in pleasant contrast to 
 the English dress which many of the Christians had 
 on. While she was watching them and thinking of 
 the many sides of mission work the Bishop was in 
 terviewing Mr. Miller. He asked questions like a 
 school inspector as to the number and grade of the 
 students, and learned that of the four hundred boys 
 enrolled one fourth of the number were Christians, 
 as also were one fourth of the members of the col 
 lege class, besides many other things which he stored 
 away for future pondering. 
 
 " Now," he said, after eliciting this information, 
 " I should like to know the real essence of the school 
 what has it done, what can it do, and w r hat do you 
 expect it will do more than the other and secular 
 schools of the country ? " 
 
 Mr. Miller hesitated a little, and then said : 
 
 " These three divisions of your question will liave 
 to be taken as one in my answer, for they are insepa-
 
 VlsiTI.Vi; MISSIONARIES. 117 
 
 rable. It has not done all it can do, nor all we expect 
 it to do, for it is still in the formative process; but 
 the need of this, as well as other schools which you 
 will see, comes from the fact that we have an organ 
 ized Church here, a body that has members that artic 
 ulate with each other and are necessary to the exertion 
 of its full powers. A fourth of these boys arc Chris 
 tians ; some of them Christians, as perhaps your or my 
 boys are, because their parents are so ; others genu 
 ine Christians with a comprehension of what Christ's 
 life means to his followers. Now, would you be will 
 ing to put either of these classes into a school where 
 they would be taught that Ingersoll's ideas and Spen 
 cer's philosophy were true, which of course means 
 that Christianity is false?" 
 
 ' ; It is unnecessary to answer such a question." 
 u Very well ; then I do not need to explain that 
 Christian boys require a separate school. That in 
 itself, then, is enough excuse for the school; but 
 the other side of the same question is still stronger. 
 The positive benefit from being in a Christian 
 school is in the daily study and exposition of the 
 Bible as one of the regular lessons, prayers in the 
 morning, the weekly prayer meetings, in Christian so 
 ciety and the association together of those of the 
 same belief. Many of them will go from here to our 
 theological school at Bareilly, and I need not say to 
 you that they will be much better prepared for that 
 than had they been under Mohammedan or heathen 
 influence." 
 
 " I grant this, but it after all must preclude much 
 evangelistic work. You and Carnton here will give 
 up your time to the dreary round of teaching, perhaps
 
 118 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 mathematics, when you might be going forth sowing 
 beside all waters." 
 
 Miller looked perplexed. 
 
 ""Well," he said, "if y on r plan in building up a 
 Church is to have only evangelists and evangelical 
 work, of course then that closes the subject at once, 
 but you surely do not expect to depend for the bone 
 and sinew of any Church on evangelists. They have 
 their place, and a noble place it is, too ; but our own 
 Church at home would hardly have assumed its pres 
 ent proportions had it had only evangelical work. 
 Xow, simply to put a point on this, tell me how much 
 do you depend on them at home, small or great, 
 known or unknown, in the real permanent building 
 up of the Church?" 
 
 "^fot very much," was the dry answer. This was 
 a home thrust, for this particular Bishop had had par 
 ticular trials with those wandering stars who flash 
 here. and flash there, exerting a sudden and strong 
 influence that is sometimes as fleeting as strong, 
 leaving the pastors of the churches they had helped 
 or hindered to the toil of gathering up the frag 
 ments, to the educating and upbuilding of the con 
 verts they have made, -only to flnd in many cases 
 that the converts have been to the evangelist, and 
 not to God. 
 
 " Very well ; is it not reasonable to suppose that 
 people who have always lived under the deadening 
 and dwarfing influence of heathen superstition require 
 more teaching and more steady drill, and better 
 grounding, than those that have heard the truth from 
 their childhood up 2" 
 
 " I must answer yes to this, of course."
 
 SITI.M; MISSIONARIES. 119 
 
 " Then let me leave this point until you see how 
 much of a church we have here already, how much 
 of an organized body, and then let me ask you if you 
 wish us all to be evangelists. We must have some 
 
 o 
 
 who do this work alone, and it is a glorious -work to 
 do. a stimulating, exciting hand-to-hand war; but we 
 cannot choose our work. Some have a fitness for that, 
 and some must do the drudgery; " and he sighed a 
 little. 
 
 " There is another point that I nearly forgot," he 
 added. We also do in these schools a great deal of 
 evangelical work. The Christian students and teach 
 ers turn out on Sunday to teach and preach, and many 
 of the .students who come here with an aversion to 
 Christianity are baptized and become among onr best 
 workers, because their understandings arc converted as 
 well as their hearts." 
 
 Carnton was talking with some of the boys when 
 the silence-bell rang, and Mr. Miller, after introduc 
 ing the Bishop, also introduced Carnton to the boys as 
 the new vice-principal. They rose quietly, with their 
 beautiful black eyes only moderately curious. 
 
 " One Sahib is apparently the same as another to 
 them," said Mrs. Clinton, noticing the lack of interest 
 on their faces. This was a mistake. The fact was 
 the new .missionary teacher had been thoroughly dis 
 cussed among them, and they knew him well even be 
 fore they had seen him, knew his antecedents, his 
 qualifications, his friends, and, above all, his disposition 
 and temperament, better, perhaps, than any of his own 
 friends did. 
 
 Every native, whether he be gentleman or cooly, 
 has two faces two characters: one which he turns
 
 120 TFIE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 only to the English or American, and one which the 
 people of his own nation see. They are not alike, they 
 possess no resemblance to each other in any respect, 
 and yet we cannot say that one is true and the other 
 false. Perhaps it is safe to say the face that his conn 
 try men see is truer, for it is doubtful if ever the con 
 queror sees the conquered in a true light ; so it did not 
 mean that because these young men appeared indif 
 ferent they were so. 
 
 After the Bishop had spoken to them in English, 
 and asked some questions as to their purposes and 
 plans, and sat down with beaming face, Mr. Miller 
 translating for the benefit of those who did not under 
 stand English, Mrs. Clinton was presented, and Mr. 
 Miller asked her to " say a few words." 
 
 She rose and, looking at the sea of faces before her, 
 on which interest, curiosity, and surprise were blended, 
 though in a very moderate degree, said : 
 
 " In olden times a guest was allowed to make a re 
 quest. "I should like to make two this morning. You 
 can grant two, 1 think, because of the great distance I 
 have come, can you not ?" 
 
 Mr. Miller smiled as he asked them to respond, and 
 every hand went up. 
 
 " First, when you marry that each will try to give; 
 his wife as much of the instruction he has received 
 here as is possible." 
 
 The principal paused, before he translated, to say 
 to her that the majority of the non-Christians were 
 already married, the- absurdity of which statement 
 struck his visitors with far more force when looking 
 at the youthful faces than when reading it in a mis 
 sion report.
 
 VISITI.NO MISSIONARII s. 121 
 
 There were smiles all around at her request, and a 
 hearty promise of the perfect fulfillment of which 
 Mr. Miller had doubts in his heart. 
 
 Pleased with her success, she made the second re 
 quest, that " when you have obtained the position 
 for which this education will fit you you will always 
 remember kindly the school in which you have re 
 ceived it and give something to help others to the 
 same blessing you are now enjoying." 
 
 This was promptly promised by the Christian lads, 
 who formed about one fourth of the number, and 
 less readily by most of the remainder ; by some half 
 heartedly, and a few made no response at all. 
 
 After prayer the boys were soon dismissed, and Mrs. 
 Clinton,' Lillian, and Mr. Carnton left Mr. Miller, who 
 was. always ready to utilize everybody, making arrange 
 ments with the Bishop for a course of lectures on the 
 Authenticity of the Holy Scriptures, the Divinity of 
 Christ, and some other kindred subjects in which he 
 was known to be strong, and got into the gari and 
 drove to the Girls' High School, which was in the 
 same compound as the Zenana Home and a mile from 
 the Christian College. 
 
 This school is compose, 1 of afew English, but mostly 
 Eurasian and native girls, numbering in all about a 
 hundred and forty. They were taken by Miss Dillon^ 
 the superintendent of the school, through the dormi 
 tory, where they saw the plain little rooms with simple 
 charpais or native beds, saw the flat cakes called chap- 
 paties being prepared by the hundred for their break 
 fast, saw the garden where the girls could walk or 
 play, and then went on to the schoolhouse, a short dis 
 tance from the dormitory.
 
 l*2'2 THK BISHOP'S CONVKKSI.>X. 
 
 The different grades were busy under different 
 teachers, mostly in separate rooms, and they all satis 
 fied Mrs. Clinton's ideas of propriety by sitting on 
 benches. Several of the teachers were from this ven 
 school and seemed to be teaching earnestly and well, 
 and proud to show the progress of their pupils. 
 
 They finally stopped in a room filled with the more 
 advanced pupils, who were having their Scripture les 
 son. 
 
 "This one," said Miss Dillon, pointing to a well- 
 grown girl, " will go into the college class next year, 
 and this one will enter the Lady Dufferin Medical 
 College at Agra, and this one will take up regular mis 
 sion work under Miss Lo\ve." 
 
 " And do they not wish to marry early, as tlu-ir 
 friends do?"" asked Mrs. Clinton. 
 
 "Sometimes, though in many cases here marriage 
 does not interfere with their occupations. I will tell 
 you more of this another time. "Will you kindly ques 
 tion the class a -little? It is good for them, and please 
 ask them difficult questions." 
 
 So she asked the first one to give her a list of the 
 miracles. This was done promptly and chronologically, 
 with a description of the places and events whu-h 
 called them forth. Then she asked for the parables, 
 and they were given equally well, an;l, as Mr. Carn- 
 ton said, better than nine tenths of the theological stu 
 dents in America could. .V few other questions were 
 answered promptly and with pleasure, some speaking in 
 Hindoostanee, which Miss Dillon translated, but most 
 in good English. After expressing themselves as ex 
 tremely well pleased with everything, they left a mes 
 sage for Miss Lowe, who with her assistants was out
 
 VISITINU MISSIONARIES, 123 
 
 in the zenanas, and was about to take her leave when 
 Miss Dillon, noting the looks of interest from the girls 
 toward Lillian, asked her mother to leave her at the 
 school for the day, saying she would bring her back at 
 night. Mrs. Clinton gladly acceded to her request, 
 and she and Carnton were soon out on the street go 
 ing toward the Home for the Homeless. 
 
 "They are pushing things to the utmost in the 
 school now, as we do everywhere in the mission daring 
 the short cold weather, hoping things may acquire 
 enough momentum to carry themselves on dur 
 ing the great heat that will soon be here. There is 
 
 o o 
 
 already a lessening of the bracing quality of the air 
 to-day, and I have not begun my work," Carnton 
 said, a little anxiously. 
 
 " I see no difference between to-day and the other 
 days I have been here." 
 
 ' I suppose not, but you do see there is a wind 2 " 
 
 " Yes, and it is getting stronger." 
 
 " Very well, that is the beginning of the " lu," which 
 I shall not describe to you, for I cannot. I suppose 
 you noticed what a line property the ladies' society 
 has here. It was bought at a great bargain, and be 
 longed to one of the members of the court of one of 
 the old kings of Oude, as did the tomb where we are 
 going also did." 
 
 "What a pity Mis.s Whitlow could not have found 
 a better place for her women ! I do not like to think 
 of one of our missionaries living in a tomb," said .Mrs. 
 Clinton. 
 
 Carnton laughed and said : 
 
 " "Wait till you have seen it. There are tombs and 
 tombs."
 
 121 THE BISHOP^S CVxvi '.;-I..N*. 
 
 It was a great rambling structure with a large dome 
 in the center, and there was a pleasant garden in front 
 of it. 
 
 " It is not a very yra re-look ing place for a tomb, 
 after all, is it ? " said Carnton. 
 
 She had time only to smile, when they were met by 
 Miss Whitlow on the veranda. The rooms were 
 large and divided by Saracenic arches. It had been 
 built by a Mohammedan gentleman for his own tomb, 
 and he had actually been buried in the large central 
 room under the dome. 
 
 " "What a fine place for exercising one's taste, and 
 how I should like to drape it and decorate it ! One's 
 fancy could run riot here, and still there would never 
 be too much ornamentation. How can you resist 
 it?" as she looked around and saw how bare and un 
 adorned it was. Only a few chairs and tables scattered 
 like oases in a desert and a few pictures on the wall. 
 
 " There are two trifling obstacles to letting my 
 aesthetic tendencies come to the front that is, time 
 and money." 
 
 " But I saw so many pretty pieces of cotton in the 
 bazar, and Mrs. Mackenzie told me they are only a 
 few cents a yard, and so very pretty, and, put here and 
 there, they would make these rooms so restful for you 
 when your work is over." 
 
 "After my work is over I shall want a smaller 
 tomb than this," was the quiet answer. ' And an 
 other obstacle," she went on in a lighter tone, " when 
 my women want new dresses and chuddars, if I did 
 not have money to buy them I would take down my 
 draperies one by one, and the marks in the plaster of 
 the nails would be there to reproach me for my
 
 WITI.NC MISSIONARIES. 125 
 
 extravagance. But will you come now, Mrs. Clinton, 
 and see the women ? I cannot ask you to come, Mr. 
 rarnto:i, much as I should like to do so." 
 
 "Very well, I will walk on home then, and get 
 some writing done before breakfast ;" and he was off. 
 
 They -went through the large central room, past the 
 grave of the old Mohammedan whose spirit must have 
 revolted at the sound of the hymn, 
 
 " There is no name so <\vooi on earth, 
 Xo name so dear in heaven," 
 
 sung in his own language and floating about and above 
 his grave, but it was fitting and right, and thus will it 
 be until time is no more ; the hymns of the true must 
 ever float above the graves of the false. 
 
 The women in plain dark skirts and white chuddars 
 rose and salaamed and sat down again on the floor, 
 with smiling faces, for they were pleased that this 
 the M'ife of the great Sahib from that great vague 
 land across the great misty water should come so soon 
 to see them. 
 
 They had heard of her from Pulmoni, who had rep 
 resented her as sweet and pleasant in her disposition 
 and of infinite charity. This they could easily be 
 lieve, for was she not small and thin ? and for what else 
 but a pleasant disposition would so great and power 
 ful a Sahib have allowed her to have the honor of 
 being his wife ? 
 
 "Some of the women speak a little English and 
 understand more than they can speak," said Miss 
 Whitlow, in warning. " You observe Pulmoni is smil 
 ing, and for the first time. Her heart seems bowed 
 down with sorrow. I must say you are beginning
 
 \'2*> THK BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 your mission work quickly and well. Where did yon 
 
 find her ? " 
 
 ' O, I deserve no credit for finding her. Just be 
 fore dark last night she came in at the door and stood 
 before me with her baby in her arms. I looked at 
 her closely, for her face expressed the most hopeless 
 woe I have ever seen on any human being. As I said 
 nothing she sat down at my fe:>t and touched them 
 with her forehead. My heart ached for her, and as I 
 could not speak to her I put my arms around her. 
 Perhaps it was not wise, but I could not help it, and 
 she sat quite quiet, as though at rest. I called the 
 cook and told him to go and ask Mr. Carnton to come 
 ai.d see what she wanted me to do for her, for it was 
 plain she expected something, and I knew she was not 
 a beggar. He came and questioned her, and though 
 she turned her back toward him and stood trembling 
 with her face covered with her chuddar, yet she an 
 swered, he said, very straightforwardly, that a pundit 
 had told some people when they were sitting at the 
 village well in Paripur of a strange people who were 
 called Christians, of how they preached a salvation for 
 women as well as men, and how they were kind and 
 helpful to all. He was not telling her she was a 
 widow, and beneath any one's notice but she was in 
 the clump of bananas behind the well and heard, and 
 then she rose early in the morning and came all 
 the way, twenty-five miles, I think. I said at once 
 that she must be sent to you, and I would be respon 
 sible for her support if you had no other means." 
 
 "She told me a little more, which I will tell you 
 later," said Miss Whitlow. 
 
 After a Bible lesson from the Hindoostanee translu-
 
 YlSlTIXU MlSSIONAKIES. 127 
 
 tion, and a prayer in the same language, in which the 
 women nearly all joined, they began their lessons. 
 
 " Some of these women are low caste and some are 
 high caste, l>nt nearly all were utterly without educa 
 tion when they came, not being able to read or write 
 one wonl ; u:;d yet now several of them can read and 
 write three languages, taking them all along at once 
 and without the least difficulty." 
 
 " And yet they do r.ot look so very clever or bright ; 
 1 can hardly credit what you say." 
 
 "Of course it is not true of all. Some are dull and 
 do not interest themselves in their lessons; these I 
 train for ayahs or nurses. Several of these latter are 
 now in good places and putting aside money for their 
 old age" or for their marriage, who were perfectly 
 without resource except the very last and worst a 
 woman can have." 
 
 "But why should such women learn more than one 
 language ? It does not seem necessary." 
 
 o o / 
 
 " Then things are not as they seem in this case, as 
 in many others. They are preparing to be Bible 
 women, and to make efficient ones they must be ready 
 to read the Bible and explain it in Hindi and Urdu or 
 Bengalee. The population is so mixed that we never 
 know "what language we will need in the zenanas. Of 
 their own accord they try to pick up English why 
 I hardly know, unless it is because they wish in every 
 thing to be like us." 
 
 "Then I suppose they would not mind sitting on 
 chairs. Certainly that would be the first thing I would 
 teach them. Civilize them first, and I am sure you 
 could Christianize them much more quickly." 
 
 "Ah," said Miss Whitlow, with a sigh, "you have
 
 128 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 struck tho edge of one of onr most difficult prob 
 lems. If you will come out here in the shade of 
 this tamarind tree," she said, bringing a chair, and 
 then going back for another one, "I will explain my 
 meaning.*' 
 
 They were facing the women, and could see some 
 busy with slates and pencils writing out translations ; 
 others learning letters, swaying back and forth and 
 repeating them in a drowsy monotone, and still others 
 knitting or sewing. The hum of bees in the yellow 
 balls of the babul tree at the side of the house added 
 to the women's voices, the little children rolling about 
 on the ground in the sun, laughing merrily, the men 
 in the street outside the high wall calling out the 
 prices of fruit and vegetables in the baskets on their 
 heads, now and then camels or elephants passing in 
 processions, the mosque at the corner, the various 
 domes and the flat roofs of the whitewashed houses 
 which reflected the sun in a blaze, and the peacock's 
 shriek mingled with the street cries all told Mrs. 
 Clinton of a different life from any she had ever known. 
 How entirely different she could not comprehend, for 
 even those who live years in it, until they too become 
 a part of the strangeness, often see only the surface, 
 and none save those with the second sight given to 
 people who love humanity a.i Christ loved it ever see 
 below the surface, and none to the bottom. It is not 
 given to the "Western nature to comprehend the Orien 
 tal. Xone can do it save and except the Oriental 
 himself, and it is doubtful whether even he ever com 
 prehends his own life. 
 
 " This is not America," Mrs. Clinton said half to 
 herself, " though it is not exactly the India I expected
 
 VISITINU MISSICXNAKIBS. 129 
 
 to sec. 1 have said this before to Mrs. Mackenzie, 
 
 and I say it to myself every hour of the day." 
 
 " The India we expected to see exists only in Amer 
 ica," said Miss Whitlow. "Before I came to India I 
 used to wonder at Moore's genius in writing ' Lalla 
 Rookh ' without ever having been here, but 
 
 think his genius would have been greater had he writ 
 ten it after beino; here." 
 
 O 
 
 Mrs. Clinton laughed. 
 
 "You evidently do not take a romantic view of 
 India." 
 
 "Xo; though still there is a strongly picturesque 
 side to it, even if it is not all marble fountains and 
 poetry and soft, low music. All our civilization de 
 tracts from the picturesque in their life. The English 
 dress and the English manner do not mix with those 
 of India any better than oil and water. But what 
 was I going to talk to you about ? O, yes, Pulinoni's 
 story and the question of chairs. 
 
 ""When she came last night she said her husband 
 had died and left her to the care of his brother, but 
 M'ith no separate provision for her support. She had 
 lived on in the house as a slave, bereft of her fe\v iine 
 clothes and her few jewels. Her two children, both 
 girls, had married some distant cousins and had gone 
 far away into the Punjab. Eight years had paed. 
 and in all the household only one was kind to her and 
 that was her husband's brother. I need not tell you 
 the result of that kindness in her sad and lonely life. 
 When she had to tell her mother-in-law and her sister- 
 in-law thej 7 demanded that she should kill the child 
 about to be born, and thus the family shame woulu 
 not be known ; but she refused, even though they
 
 130 THE BISHOP'S CO.NVKK-IOX. 
 
 talked to her in a way that in her own words 'killed 
 her.' Then they beat her cruelly, but still she refused 
 to either commit murder or allow it to bo committed. 
 Then they turned her out and told her they would 
 beat her to death if she ever came back. She wan 
 dered away from village to village, until a not entirely 
 hard-hearted woman took her in for a day or two un 
 til her child was born, and then, while she was still 
 M*eak, told her to ^o on. ' She had lowered her head 
 
 * o 
 
 and now she must take the consequences. 1 Soon she 
 went, getting a little food, now and then by begging, 
 until one day she heard the pundit at the well tell 
 of the Christian's God, who, he said, forgave the worst 
 of sins, even of women, and she believed it all, though 
 the pundit said he did not believe it and it could not 
 be true ; that women were not made for heaven, and 
 very few even of the best would ever have a place 
 there ; and so she came, as she felt it was true. She is 
 bright, and I think will turn out well, and you will not 
 be sorry you sent her." 
 
 "It is a pitiful story,'' Mrs. Clinton said, with tears 
 i:i her eyes. 
 
 "Yes, it is, and, sadder still, it is not an uncommon 
 story. Xow about the question of chairs.'' 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Clinton, ''I really think the 
 'ladies at home' would regret very much to hear that 
 you did not insist on the women sifting in chairs. 
 Surely it would increase their self-respect." 
 
 "I have not the least doubt in the world of the 
 truth of both of your assertions. As to the latter, 1 
 rind the self-respect of the women increases in a ratio 
 that I find impossible to keep up with, as far as new 
 wants and new habits and new things altogether go.
 
 VISITING MISSIONARIES. 131 
 
 That is the very point. I was one of the 'ladies at 
 home' myself and held very decided opinions in re 
 gard to all these things, but my opinion IKIS changed 
 with the change in my point of view." 
 
 "That is to be expected; but \vhat possible objec 
 tion can there be to chairs? Surely no moral prin 
 ciple is involved.'' 
 
 " As much as eating with knives and forks off of 
 plates, instead of eating out of the degchi, and wear 
 ing hats like ours, or coats like the sahibs, or col 
 lars and cnffs. All these and a hundred other things 
 d' not seem to have a moral bearing; yet if a native 
 Christian cannot afford to buy all these things, and 
 he and his family are unhappy because they cannot 
 have them, or led to give up work in the mission 
 where he is needed in order that he may get larger 
 wages and supply himself with luxuries for they are 
 to him neither more nor less than luxuries then the 
 whole thing has a moral phase." 
 
 " Yes," was the decided answer ; u it is true, but it 
 is a novel light in which to regard chairs and knives 
 and forks." 
 
 Now some of these women here will," Miss AVliit- 
 low went on, " marry Christian men who earn four or 
 live dollars a month, or even less. If they get accus- 
 < i>med to chairs and knives and forks and clothes such 
 as we wear they will never be so liappy as they would 
 without them. If they can provide themselves hon 
 estly with the first luxuries they have habitually it. 
 will put a different light on the whole matter. As 
 to women copying our dress, it has still another moral 
 bearing. Their chuddars are a shelter and protection 
 to them, and they are not prepared to give them ti|>
 
 132 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 and go about without them. They would lose their 
 modesty and seem to us more or less bold. Laying- 
 it aside to them is what laying aside our bonnets 
 v or hats and even part of our dress would be to us; 
 it would be unnatural, and therefore would do us 
 harm, as also giving up their chuddars would be un 
 natural to them and do them harm ; and besides, 
 anyone with artistic feeling could hardly wish them 
 to do so, for, so far as actual beauty goes, their dress 
 far exceeds ours." 
 
 " I agree with you perfectly as to that ; I never 
 knew how ugly our dress is until I saw theirs. But I 
 must hurry home to breakfast" looking at her watch; 
 " I shall be late as it is." 
 
 ' Fancy putting a hat on this child, and see what a 
 guy it would make her, compared to what she is. 
 Come here, Sitara," she said as a pretty little girl- 
 woman came out of the house wrapped from head to 
 foot in a soft scarlet sari with gold-colored border, 
 and carrying a shining brass lota in her hand from 
 which the rays of the sun were reflected in sharp lines 
 to their eyes. She came shy and trembling and put a 
 little hand in Mrs. Clinton's and looked up with half- 
 merry curiosity in her large dark eyes, made more 
 brilliant by the scarlet and gold about her face. Dim 
 ples and white teeth showed quickly in answer to the 
 smile Mrs. Clinton gave her, and when she put her 
 arms around her the child nestled in them with ready 
 love. 
 
 "You darling! " exclaimed Mrs. Clinton, kissing her. 
 
 Sitara looked and felt happy. She knew at once 
 without an intelligible word that the great Mem 
 Sahib was truly pleased with her.
 
 VISITING MISSIONARIES. 133 
 
 " Sitara has been a brave and a good girl, and she 
 has a good husband." 
 
 "This child ! " cried Mrs. Clinton. 
 
 Miss Whitlow said something to the a'irl in Hindoo- 
 
 o o 
 
 stance, and she gently, with a look full of love, lifted 
 her hand to her forehead and bowed to each of the 
 ladies and glided quietly away toward the schoolroom. 
 
 "It is an interesting story, this of Sitara and her 
 husband, and if yon come early to the station meeting 
 to-morrow night I will tell yon all about her. I assure 
 you she is not uncommonly young for a wife." 
 
 As she got into the gari Mrs. Clinton felt a giddy 
 sensation and nearly fell. 
 
 "AVhat is coming to me?" she said to herself, half 
 alarmed ; "this constant confusion of head and this dis 
 agreeable sensation of not being sure of keeping my 
 feet! I wonder if it is anything that I have eaten." 
 
 At the breakfast table she spoke of it, and the Bishop 
 confessed to the same sensation, varied by a constant 
 and intense dull ache at the back of his neck, and be 
 fore they had finished he was obliged to go to his 
 room and lie down. Then followed a bad hour or 
 two of sharp pain in his head and vomiting. He was 
 not able to get up for lunch, but his wife told Carnton 
 he was much better. Had he not been better she 
 would have sent for a doctor. 
 
 "He has just escaped sunstroke," said Carnton, 
 after she had detailed the symptoms of his attack," 
 and you will be obliged to do as we do, wear ugly- 
 sola topis, or have still worse trouble. 
 
 "But the sun is not uncomfortably hot," argued 
 she ; "in fact, it is only comfortably warm. How can 
 it hurt us 2 "
 
 134 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " I do not know how, but I know that it does, and 
 there is no possible way of acclimatization for ns. 1 
 tried it and was ill. Most of us like to try it for our 
 selves, but in the case of !Nilton, of Agra, he carried 
 his experiment too far, and died in the prime of his 
 life from sunstroke." 
 
 Carnton said no more, but he observed that three 
 sola topis appeared in the house the next day, and there 
 after there was no complaint of headache and giddi 
 ness. 
 
 And that was the first bit of experience that cost 
 them something, but not the last.
 
 MAKIXG CALLS. ]..">."> 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 MAKING CALLS. 
 
 THE government of India is a vague, illusory thing 
 in the minds of the masses of the Indian people. 
 There is a shadowy superstition of a sort of fairyland 
 where the head fairy is an indefinite Bnri Rani, called 
 Victoria, who is something after the style of Lachmi, 
 their own goddess of plenty, who sits aloft in the 
 clouds on a lotus flower and regards the sufferings of 
 the- world with uninterrupted placidity. 
 
 They have an unlimited idea of the great sea, and 
 the fact that the empress lives beyond it separates 
 her from them as completely as though she were in 
 heaven. 
 
 The Lord Sahib, or the Viceroy, comes a little 
 nearer. They have a consciousness of him when their 
 especial "talukdar" raises their taxes to supply en 
 tertainments and fetes a la, Arabian Xights for him 
 when he is on his annual visit. But the only real 
 governmental providence they comprehend is the 
 lieutenant-governor of the particular province or pres 
 idency in which they live, who lias his court on the 
 plains in the cold season, and in the mountains in the 
 hot season, and swings pendulum-like between his two 
 or three governmental seats. 
 
 All who are received by him and his family at 
 Government House are respectable and " in society,"
 
 136 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 sven if not "of society ;'' and the first duty of every 
 self-respecting European not in trade, on arriving at 
 a place where there is a government house, is to pre 
 sent himself in all that is correct in clothes and 
 cards and smiles, and have the invisible label and 
 stamp put on him, which will make it safe for seedy 
 colonels, reJ-faced majors, and bankrupt lieutenants 
 to return his bow or receive an apology for being 
 thrown against him in a raihvay collision. This is 
 an advantage to the missionary in many \vays. Tie 
 needs government backing and he gets it, for tho 
 government, wise in its generation, sees that the mis 
 sionary is not only law-abiding himself, but that 
 he makes law-abiding citizens of his converts ; that 
 his schools and homes and churches do what no 
 other power, however strong, can do ; and grants 
 of land and - money are given freely when well- 
 known and long-standing missions ask for them. So 
 calling at Government House is encouraged that is, 
 missionaries encourage each other to call, but it is only 
 the obliging new ones that really go, and jnst as they 
 are starting they find they are asked to register the 
 names of all the other missionaries of the place in tho 
 visitors' book, which takes the place of a call ; they 
 also find that the normal missionary hates calling at 
 Government House, and all other merely conventional 
 calls, as badly as merely conventional people hate to 
 see him coming. 
 
 Ca niton, on being told it was his duty to call, 
 begged Mrs. Clinton to go with him, and she acquiesced, 
 as she had been told it was her duty to do so. They 
 drove in through a rather imposing entrance, beyond 
 which passers-by could catch a glimpse of smooth-
 
 MAKING CALLS. 137 
 
 shaven green lawns, of well-grouped trees, and through 
 tlieir openings gleaming pillars, hits of verandas, and 
 scarlet and gold-liveried servants. 
 
 One of these latter, salaaming low, ushered them 
 into a magnificent room at the end of which were 
 two young ladies, the nieces of the lieutenant-gov 
 ernor, Sir Mayland Wild. 
 
 "They are pretty and well dressed, for English 
 women," thought Mrs. Clinton, with the impulse of 
 natural antipathy fostered by many Fourths of July. 
 They received the missionaries with respect, first, 
 because the word Bishop on Mrs. Clinton's husband's 
 card, which she had brought in lien of being able to 
 persuade him to accompany her, had caught their eyes, 
 and Can i ton carried his own welcome with him in his 
 fine figure and handsome face and an unconscious air 
 of being perfectly at home and at ease in any circum 
 stances. 
 
 Then, too, the words " American Mission " on Carn- 
 ton's card had given them a hint of something in 
 teresting, and they had visibly brightened, for they 
 were tired and bored. It was, of course, their regu 
 lar receiving day, and shoals of women had come and 
 gone ; senior subalterns' wives, many ; captains' wives, 
 some; colonels' wives, a few; but not only not one 
 person of distinction, but, what was worse to them, 
 no interesting men. Lady Huff and Lady Puff would 
 not kotow to girls who were officially at the head of 
 society only from the accident of tlieir uncle being a 
 bachelor or widower, one or the other, or both. So 
 ciety did not seem quite sure under which category he 
 came, and it is possible that he himself was not sure. 
 So altogether the young ladies had not had so satis-
 
 138 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 factory a day as might liave been expected. A bish 
 op's Avife was not to be despised, and one, the eld 
 est, looking at Caniton as lie advanced, said under 
 her breath : 
 
 " Ah, if I could only tame him ! What a handsome 
 'bow-wow* he would make, even if he is a mission- 
 anv> 
 
 And the other thought, with a flush on her fair 
 face : 
 
 "I will find out about these horrid American 
 girls, if he can talk of anything but converting the 
 heathen." 
 
 Carnton fell to her share. 
 
 " Yon belong to the American Mission ; I suppose 
 you are very enthusiastic in regard to the natives? " 
 
 The one trace of the world that lingered around 
 Carnton was his manner to women ; not of the wicked 
 world, but essentially of the world half-deferential, 
 half-amused, as though talking to pretty children, and 
 wholly fascinating, though unconsciously so. 
 
 He smiled, bending a little toward her. 
 
 " That depends somewhat on what you mean by 
 enthusiasm ; and may I ask why it is a foregone con 
 clusion that I am enthusiastic ? " 
 
 Her face lighted she was not going to be bored, 
 for at any rate he could talk. 
 
 "For two reasons: missionaries are always not 
 fanatical, but very excitable and hopeful, and Ameri 
 cans are always enthusiastic. You know Colonel 
 Sellers in Mark Twain's book; he is a typical Ameri 
 can." 
 
 "Really ! " answered Carnton, with a gentle look of 
 derision. "/ had not thought Colonel Sellers a typi-
 
 MAKIX CALLS. 139 
 
 cal American. It is rather difficult to say exactlv 
 what a typical American is. In fact, the only one I 
 ever thought to be so proved to be an Englishman 
 born and bred. But if as a missionary I were con 
 victed of enthusiasm, it would mean ' and he 
 stopped with a gleam of amusement in his eyes that 
 gave her an unaccountable feeling of shyness. 
 
 " O, it would mean that you were sure of converting 
 all the natives very soon, and that they were to be in 
 stantly respectable, truth-telling people. But I assure 
 you frankly it cannot be done ; it is wasted time and 
 strength." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 ''My uncle, who favors missions, had a chaprassi 
 who said he was a Christian, and he stole a lot of 
 money hundreds of rupees and fled, and we have 
 never seen him since. I am perfectly sure that they 
 are naturally dishonest and nothing will cure them." 
 
 " Such a strange thing as a dishonest servant is, I 
 suppose, never known in England ? " 
 
 " O, yes, plenty of them." 
 
 " But I suppose they were not professed Christians." 
 
 " All we ever had were, for mother would have 
 none other." 
 
 " And yet you did not think there was no Chris 
 tianity in England because one of your servants was 
 not honest." 
 
 " True enough," frankly and with a slight confu 
 sion ; " I had not looked at it in that way. But I want 
 to ask you a question about American girls. What is 
 it that makes them so fascinating ? Are they so much 
 prettier than English girls?" she asked, earnestly. 
 
 "I really cannot say; I have seen, so few English
 
 140 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 girls. Perhaps Mrs. Clinton can tell us," noticing 
 that the other Miss Wild had stopped talking in order 
 to listen. 
 
 Turning to Mrs. Clinton she repeated her question. 
 The fair face was flushed and eager, and Mrs. Clin 
 ton, looking at her, said, gently : 
 
 " I do not really see how they can be prettier than 
 some English girls I have seen/' 
 
 The questioner drew back a little, and said, with a 
 conscious increase of color : 
 
 " What is it then ? In London the best men run 
 after them and forget others. Every place they go 
 to they are surrounded by men, and we sit about and 
 look on." 
 
 "Perhaps it may be their dollars," said Carnton, 
 lightly ; " I have heard that given as the reason." 
 
 " No ; this girl was poor ah " catching herself, 
 " I mean I saw one girl who was known to be poor, 
 and she was not prettier than than many girls there, 
 and yet men one did not expect it of left others to 
 talk to her the whole evening." 
 
 Surely there was more than personal pique in this. 
 "Men one did not expect it of" meant one particular 
 man that she had not expected it of. There was no 
 answer, and she went on : 
 
 "And she did not seem to care one bit for them, 
 and liked to talk to women just as well, and the 
 strange part of it all was that we all liked her." 
 
 " I think," said Carnton, gravely, rising as Mrs. 
 Clinton rose to take her leave, "I think you have ex 
 plained the reason in your last remark better than we 
 could;" and they were soon out in the open air, leav- 
 'ng the perplexed questioner to ponder.
 
 MAKING CALLS. 141 
 
 Mrs. Clinton laughed a little as she said : 
 
 "1 was interviewed as well as you on Americans. 
 The elder sister told me she was surprised to find us 
 using good English, and that this girl in London, of 
 whom her sister was speaking, also used good English ; 
 but when she mentioned it to her, and told her that 
 she did not talk a hit like Mark Twain or Artemus 
 Ward, the girl had said that she could really take no 
 credit to herself, for an English missionary had 
 lived near her father's hut, and she had learned from 
 him. When I smiled and said, ' Indeed ! ' she went 
 on to say that when she explained it to her Cousin 
 Jack, who had been in America and seen her father's 
 'hut' on Fifth Avenue, in New York, he rolled on 
 the floor and laughed, and said she was chaffing me. 
 She said 'chawfing.' r 
 
 Carnton laughed. 
 
 "That is really good ; in fact, it goes beyond any 
 thing in my experience, though I have been asked 
 funny questions without number. Colonel Jones 
 told me plainly that we had no writers or books in 
 America, and when I timidly mentioned Irving as 
 being used for the standard English in the schools of 
 India, and Emerson, whom I knew he read, and Long 
 fellow, whom everybody reads, he declared indig 
 nantly that they were English, and it was absurd for 
 Americans to claim them. I said nothing whatever, 
 as I felt I was not adequate to the occasion. But of 
 course such men as he are no more representative 
 Englishmen than Colonel Sellers is a representative 
 American." 
 
 They were MOW driving in at the entrance of a 
 zenana mission.
 
 142 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " Yesterday we were visiting missionaries in a 
 tomb, and to-day we find them in a palace." 
 
 " Really that sounds very much like ' From the Log- 
 cabin to the "White House.' Whom, I beg of you, 
 shall we find in the palace ? " 
 
 "Miss Mellen, though every one calls her 'Sidney,' 
 the zenana missionary of the other society, and her 
 assistants. She lives in this old palace which was 
 given to their mission, and was built by one of the old 
 Lings of Oude for his vazir, or prime minister. But 
 how is this, that / am giving you information ? " 
 
 " Of course I have heard often of them, but I have 
 never seen them. I have been too busy, and when in 
 Lucknow for a few days I have always had mission 
 work on hand. "Where have you seen them ? " 
 
 " Miss Mellen was calling on Mrs. Mackenzie the 
 first da} 7 we were here, and she is simply lovely. But I 
 thought she cared too much for the fit of her dresses 
 and is too pretty to be a good missionary." 
 
 " Well," said Carnton, laughing, " you surely cannot 
 say that of Miss some of the other missionaries," 
 catching himself before he had uttered a name. 
 
 "Hardly," was the answer. 
 
 The gateway through which they came, like most 
 gateways in India, had no gate, but was only an en 
 trance to a large compound filled with shrubs, clumps 
 of roses, and pots of ferns and palms, beyond which 
 the old palace loomed, so big and so irregular that, 
 looking up, when fairly before it, they could only see 
 one part of it. There was a veranda, below and above 
 this an open terrace, and from this came the sound of 
 Bundling native shoes, and an ayah looked down over 
 the railing and disappeared. Then a bearer came with
 
 MAKING CALLS. 113 
 
 a salaam, and "Miss Sahib hai," and taking their cards 
 disappeared. They followed, as the word salaam in 
 dicated that they would be received. 
 
 They went up a short flight of stairs, a turn, up a 
 long flight, across a landing, across a terrace, and into 
 a plainly furnished sitting room. Here were the same 
 Saracenic arches that so often in Lucknow stirred 
 Mrs. Clinton's {esthetic sensibilities. There were 
 various devices to shut off the draughts caused by 
 these same arches, but nothing ornamental, nothing 
 but rude screens and plain chairs. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton said, with a mock sigh, to Carnton : 
 
 " I have a great mind to be a missionary to the mis 
 sionaries and live to drape their houses and make them 
 pretty ; "to remodel their bonnets and make them re 
 spectable ; to show them that they have no right to 
 deprive themselves of the help a little beauty would be 
 to them, and live as they do on the plain bare facts." 
 
 "But this would hardly agree with your avowed 
 purpose in India. How is this 2 " 
 
 Mrs. Clinton laughed and was about to reply, when 
 Miss Mellen and Miss Harris came in. After twenty 
 minutes passed they were out again in the carriage. 
 Carnton was silent. With her usual instinct of pene 
 tration Mrs. Clinton felt that Carnton was not the 
 same man that had gone in with her. There was a 
 change, subtle and undefined, a something gained or 
 a something lost; and she reviewed the twenty min 
 utes spent in the shabby room. 
 
 Both ladies were in plain working-dresses, as they 
 had just come in from the zenanas, and had that 
 wearied look that is on the faces of those who have 
 worked hard but happily, which is entirely different
 
 144 THE BISHOP'S CON VERSION. 
 
 from the weariness of boredom, or weariness coming 
 from uncongenial burdens. 
 
 Miss Harris looked as tidy as when she hud gone 
 out in the morning, but Miss Mellen's hair hung in 
 little brown rings and curls about her forehead, and the 
 large braid that crowned her head was decidedly tum 
 bled. Her cheeks, naturally a wild-rose red, were 
 deepened by the sun into almost a purplish tint, and 
 her mouth drooped wearily. Carnton had sat in a 
 seat near her, and they had talked. What of? Mrs. 
 Clinton did not know; she was engaged with Miss 
 Harris, who was telling her of a disappointment in 
 her work. A Mohammedan's wife and daughter had 
 been about to become Christians with his consent, 
 when suddenly he had removed them out of the city 
 and she could find no trace of them. While she was 
 listening to this story she had still seen that the other 
 two were absorbed in each other. 
 
 She was not romantic, but she knew some things, 
 and she wondered if she had been seeing the very be 
 ginning of a love story. She felt awed by the thought. 
 Love was not a trifle to her; not something to be 
 treated with amusement or in any way lightly. It 
 involved too much ; it was too great, too terrible to be 
 regarded otherwise than solemnly and sacredly. So 
 she sat silent, and the driver whipped his thin little 
 ponies, and the wind blew the dust all about them as 
 they drove around corners, and went down narrow 
 streets. Finallj Carnton said : 
 
 "What do you say to our going home, and leaving 
 the other mission houses for another day ?" 
 
 Mrs. Clinton assented, nearly convinced that some 
 thing serious had happened.
 
 THE STORY OF SITARA. 145 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE STORY OF S1TARA. 
 
 QITAEA and her Imslwnd, Shew Pershad, had lived 
 O in separate villages until their marriage, and then 
 she came to live in the same house in which he had 
 always lived and was his little playmate and his moth 
 er's assistant in preparing the food for their simple 
 meals. 
 
 They had been married a year or two when it first 
 dawned on Shew Pershad that there was a great world 
 worth seeing and knowing, and that they, in the se- 
 clnded little village, were ignorant and simple com 
 pared with others who traveled on railways, worked 
 in offices, arid studied the language of the sahibs who 
 ruled the country. 
 
 True, there was a little school in the village, but he 
 had already learned all that was taught there, and had 
 been looked up to with great admiration by those 
 who could not read, and who had never been to 
 school; for the school was a modern affair and not 
 known when his parents were young. He helped his 
 mother in the little shop by which she had been able 
 always to be comfortable, and which had been, in un 
 usual liberality and kindness, left to her by her hus 
 band when he died. 
 
 Some cousins of his, also sons of widows, had been 
 to a mission school and came back full of the wonderful
 
 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 things they had learned. When they had convinced 
 him that the world was round and not flat, and did 
 not rest on the back of a turtle, and was riot bounded 
 by seas full of serpents and dragons, that trees, how 
 ever sacred, could not control destiny, that even mud 
 images could do nothing for human beings, that 
 smallpox and other diseases could not be driven away 
 by sacrifices and music, and that many other things 
 of like nature in which he had believed were untrue, 
 he was bewildered and excited and indignant at his 
 teachers and his mother for teaching him falsehoods, 
 and angry with himself for having believed them. 
 
 Many days, sitting in the little shop when his 
 mother thought him half asleep, he pondered these 
 things. What did it all mean? He had firmly be 
 lieved all the things that he now found untrue ; but 
 more disturbing than this was the fact that he had 
 also heard of a God whom these great and powerful 
 people, the sahibs, worshiped, who was pure and 
 good, and who demanded of his worshipers that they 
 also should be pure and upright and truthful and 
 honest. But, while his cousins were content to take 
 the surface of things and accept the facts with a sneer 
 for those who did not know as much as they, Shew 
 Pershad determined to go below all the facts and see 
 what it meant, and for this end he resolved to learn 
 it from the teachers at first hand. One day, after his 
 cousin had helped him with the accounts of the shop 
 so quickly and so cleverly that his mother was filled 
 with admiration, he said : 
 
 " Mother, I am neither foolish nor mad, and can 
 learn as well as this boy, my cousin. I, too, will go to 1 
 Lucknow to school."
 
 THE STORY OF SITARA. 147 
 
 The mother objected, but the son was the head of 
 the house and had his way and went to school with 
 his cousins. They all boarded with a connection of 
 the family, and went together as day students. All 
 that his cousins took as a matter of course astounded 
 him, and nothing so much as the Christian religion. 
 It was wonderful and beautiful. Not a bowing down 
 to imperfect, vindictive, and sensual gods, but to a 
 glorious Being in whom was all truth and all love, and 
 in whose worship he would also come to a higher and 
 better life ; who regarded the souls, and not bodies, 
 and in whose sight his loved and loving playmate, 
 Sitara, was as good as himself. This latter was to his 
 head the most difficult of all, though his heart accepted 
 it with joy. Finally, after months of teaching and of 
 faithful study, he presented himself to Mr. Miller for 
 baptism. After thoroughly catechising him in regard 
 to his reasons for the request and with regard to his 
 understanding and belief, he promised the boy bap 
 tism. Mr. Miller also advised him to at once acquaint 
 all his friends, and especially his mother, with his 
 determination. 
 
 There was great trouble when this was done, and 
 his mother and all the members of the family and the 
 caste were angry, and declared him no longer one of 
 them, but out of caste, and that he might go his own 
 way. Word was even brought to him that his wife 
 would refuse to see his face again if he did not turn 
 from his evil Ways. He was saddened, but so simple 
 and earnest was his belief that he only looked upon it 
 as the result of their ignorance and superstition, and 
 believed that they in their hearts still loved him. 
 
 More, he knew that Sitara did, and he determined 
 11
 
 148 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 that at least she should be free from the awful dark 
 ness in which his mother lived. There was a trouble 
 some thought now and then that he too, perhaps, 
 might die early, as his father had done, and Sitara 
 might be left to struggle against all the temptations 
 and trials of early widowhood. 
 
 When he thought of this he was more determined 
 than ever to free her, but he knew it would not be 
 safe for him to go openly to bring her away. He had 
 some money of his own, and he wrote her letters 
 which he sent by a man selling jelabies and other 
 sweets. The man was to ctay about the house until 
 he could give them into her own hand. He had 
 taught her to read a little, and he only wrote very, 
 very short letters. First, " My heart runs back to 
 Gopal Gunge to make its salaams to you ; " another 
 time, "You are still dear to me;" and then another 
 on a great fete day, " My heart says that you still love 
 me. If so, send me the hiir of jasmine that you wear 
 around your neck to-day ; " and she sent it. 
 
 After receiving this he wrote again : " I am a Chris 
 tian, but I know you will come to me. There is a 
 school here where you can live and be cared for, and 
 I can see you at least each Sunday in the Christian 
 worship-house, though I may not speak to yon. Then, 
 when I have finished school, we will have a house of 
 our own, of which you will be sole mistress. If you 
 will come to me at the well in the mango grove by 
 the old temple outside the village at nine o'clock one 
 week from to-day send me the coral necklace I bought 
 for you at the Ajudiya mela." 
 
 The necklace came, and the jelabi man, who had 
 been faithful to his trust, was dismissed with enough
 
 THE STORY OF SITAKA. 149 
 
 rupees to enable him to give a dinner to liis relatives. 
 Then lie got leave from school for a few days on the 
 plea of seeing his wife, and met her at the well. 
 There was a room in the old temple where he and his 
 cousins had spent many a pleasant day, and to this he 
 took her and there explained all he wished her to do. 
 She agreed readily, for had he not always been kinder 
 to her than anyone else, and was he not wise and 
 great, having traveled so far and read .-o many books, 
 and did she not love him better than his old mother, 
 who was often so fierce with her when matters did 
 not go well in the shop? He had brought food 
 enough in his pockets for the next day, and he would 
 remain there all the day and the next night. She 
 was to bring all that belonged to her and join him, 
 and they would go away into that wonderful world 
 that lay far beyond the little village and its sleepy in 
 habitants. 
 
 When he presented his wife to Mr. Miller the good 
 man was much surprised, and hardly knew what to 
 say, and so sent her to .Miss Whitlow for a short time 
 until arrangements could be made to place her in 
 some school. 
 
 This is the story Miss Whitlow told Mrs. Clinton 
 as they sat in the gathering dusk waiting for the 
 missionaries to come in for the station meeting. 
 
 This latter was a time-honored institution, and was 
 of a nondescript type of monthly assembling together 
 for mutual help and encouragement. There was a 
 president to preside and secretary to keep record, and 
 in this record could be traced the circumstantial his 
 tory of most of the work done by this mission in the 
 place.
 
 150 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 To-night there was added interest in the meeting, 
 for it was understood there was a "chiel amang them 
 takin' notes," and whether or not lie meant " to prent 
 them " they were all anxious that the notes might be 
 favorable, as much of the future of the mission might 
 be endangered if the} 7 were unfavorable. Each and 
 every one was sure that if the Bishop could see his 
 own particular work in all its bearings he could not 
 fail to be more interested in it than in any other, and 
 consequently give his time to help in that direction. 
 
 After the reading of the minutes of the last meet 
 ing Miss Lowe was called on for her report. She 
 began : 
 
 "We have had an unusually good month. The 
 heads of several good Mohammedan families have sent, 
 asking us to come and see their women. When there 
 are promising new families ready to be taught any 
 thing we wish to teach them we drop out the old 
 places which seem less hopeful, for we have so many 
 more places than we can visit that we must make a 
 selection. I see a marked growth of interest in the 
 Bible in many places, and especially in the villages 
 near Lucknow. The ground is new in the villages, 
 the women more simple, and they receive the word 
 more gladly, and we are giving our time chiefly to 
 village work. I must tell you of one pitiful little scene 
 in a zenana yesterday. I was hurrying up a lane over 
 at Hosainabad when an old woman, evidently a serv 
 ant, came out of a door in a wall and said : 
 
 " ' Miss Sahib, will you come and see my mistress. 
 She is very ill, and my heart tells me that she will 
 soon die, perhaps even to-day ; and the tears rolled 
 down her face as she spoke.
 
 THE STORY OF SITARA. 151 
 
 I was late, but I thought I must go, and I followed 
 her through the door into a court which was filled with 
 palms and marigolds and saw that I was in the house 
 of one of the better class of Hindoos. The woman mo 
 tioned me to go quietly. On the veranda I saw a charpai 
 and a heap of bright color on it. As I went closer I saw 
 that a girl wrapped in a red and green quilt was lying 
 on a bed with her eyes closed, and even then I could 
 see that the face was as sad as the voice in which she 
 was murmuring the words, 'My baby, O, my baby!' 
 She looked like a little girl, and yet I concluded she 
 must be the woman's mistress and a wife and mother. 
 I motioned to the woman to tell her that I had come, 
 and I stood a little back, where she could riot see me. 
 Her eyes opened quickly, and with a start she raised 
 herself up on her elbow, but sank back at once, as 
 though too weak to support her head. Her eyes 
 looked so big and mournful, and even the surprise of 
 seeing me did not take the heart-broken expression 
 out of them. Pretty soon her face changed and a 
 very bright look of recognition came into them, and 
 she said, joyfully : 
 
 " ' O, it is my Miss Sahib ! It is my Miss Sahib ! 
 Janki,' she gasped to the woman, 'how often I have 
 told you of her! ' 
 
 "I bent over her and took her hand and said : 
 
 "'I am very glad YOU know me. Where did you 
 see me?' 
 
 " 'Do you not know ? In a little school in Ghasira 
 Mundi. I went a little while only, but it was sweet 
 and good.' 
 
 "" She was very weak, and her breath came quickly, 
 and to let her rest I spoke to the woman and asked
 
 152 THE BISHOP'S CONTEBSION. 
 
 about her mistress's sickness. She told me first that 
 the child's husband was old and cared chiefly for his 
 shop. She had been ill six months, ever since her 
 baby died ; and as she said this the tears came fast 
 from her eyes, bnt the poor little mother lay quite 
 quiet until her servant had finished, and then she said 
 so sadly, so very sadly : 
 
 " 'And O, Miss Sahib, he was such a beautiful baby, 
 so strong and so glad always, and his father was so 
 proud ot' him ! lie went, and soon I shall go, bnt 
 not where he is; for into the body of some wild ani 
 mal he will go, and who will care for him?' 
 
 " I shall never forget the sad hopelessness of that 
 gasping cry. I knelt by her and took her tiny hands 
 in mine, and I said : ' Do yon not know what Jesus 
 Christ our Lord said " Suffer little children to come 
 unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the king 
 dom of heaven ?" It is true, and your beautiful child 
 is safe with him, where you too can join him. It is 
 true.' 1 I said it in a way that convinced her, for I 
 felt there was no time to lose. 
 
 " ' How can I go ? ' she asked, eagerly ; ' women 
 have no place in heaven. It is only men who have a 
 right there.' 
 
 "'Then,' I said, 'you must believe all my word.-. 
 for they are true. "God so loved the world that lie 
 gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
 on him should not perish, bnt have everlasting life.*' 
 
 " ' O,' she said, ' 1 learned that in the school, and I 
 have said it many times since, but my little boy's 
 father said it was not true. Is it true ?' and her eyes 
 held mine as though she would force the truth from 
 
 O 
 
 me.
 
 TTTE STOKY OF SITAKA. 153 
 
 "I said, 'It is true, and if you believe it and ask 
 God to forgive you and take you to him and to your 
 dear baby he will do it.' I wish 1 could tell you how 
 joyful her poor pale face was ; then she closed her 
 eyes, and while praying sank into a gentle sleep. I 
 came away, telling the old woman to get nourishing 
 things for her, though I had not much hope that she 
 would need them long. I was so glad she had been 
 in the school even for a few days, otherwise I fear 
 she was too weak to have understood my words. 
 This morning I went, and she had gone to nleet her 
 beautiful baby." 
 
 There was a little silence; then Miss Dillon said: 
 
 " The school has gone on as usual. One or two 
 new ones came, and I had one or two applications for 
 scholarship, but as I had no more I was obliged to re 
 fuse. The girls' prayer meeting has been especially 
 good of late. There seems to be a new interest in it. 
 Two girls that have been perfectly incorrigible have 
 taken an earnest stand and professed a personal ex 
 perience of the salvation of Christ, and have told me 
 they hope to devote their lives to mission work. I 
 have looked for a change in their daily lives, and have 
 not been disappointed. The effect has been felt all 
 through the school, and I hope much from them. 
 They will be baptized soon, as their parents have 
 made no objection, though they are not decided 
 Christians themselves. 
 
 "I find my greatest difficulty in keeping the girls to 
 their native habits of dress, and find more need than 
 ever to simplify my own dress and habits of life." 
 
 Miss "Whitlow came next : 
 
 " That latter point of Miss Dillon's is one with
 
 154 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 which I can sympathize. There seems something in 
 woman nature all over the world that delights in 
 adorning itself with what it considers beautiful, and 
 it is often a great question to know where innocent 
 pleasure ends and vanity begins. I have learned at 
 least one thing in my fifteen years in India, to be more 
 strict with myself in my dj'ess and not so strict with 
 them. I have found it easier to discard every sign or 
 suggestion of trimming or frilling or ornament in my 
 own dress than to explain to them why my dresses 
 should have it and not theirs. 
 
 ' Two new women have entered the Home this 
 month, of one of which Mrs. Clinton can tell you ; 
 "and one has left because she preferred to go back to 
 her old ways of sin. Three women are ready for bap 
 tism, and will present themselves for it next Sundav 
 if all is well." 
 
 Then Mr. Mackenzie gave his report : 
 " The papers have gone on as usual, but I have had 
 difficulty with the bookbinder. He demands more 
 than I will give him, as he knows we have promised 
 books that are not ready. Otherwise from this I have 
 had no unusual trouble. Bishop Wilbur's tracts are in 
 great demand, and the call for moral essays and all that 
 kind of books is steadily increasing. Several promi 
 nent Hindoos have sent for handsomely bound Bibles, 
 and the general tide seems to be toward reading Eng 
 lish books of any kind if they are only cheap. This 
 shows me more than ever the great need of good and 
 suitable books and the necessity of setting apart a 
 missionary whose sole work will be to select things 
 for translation and also write in the vernaculars. 
 There is so much bad cheap literature floating about
 
 THE STORY OF SITAKA. 155 
 
 that something, and something very strong and wide 
 spread, is needed to counteract its influence, and also 
 to take its place, and any English books that can be 
 widely advertised as being cheaper than this vile trash 
 that is read will easily supersede it." 
 
 Mr. Miller said there was nothing new in the 
 school ; Mrs. Miller, Miss May, of the college class, 
 and Mrs. Mackenzie all said they had been working 
 hard, but had nothing to tell, as it was only in the 
 ordinary routine of their work, and Mr. Carnton told 
 of the coming over of the whole village of Belai to 
 Christianity. 
 
 Mr. Train, of the English Church, said his work 
 was go-ing on as usual. The Epworth League, mod 
 eled on the plan in America, was increasing in in 
 terest and was uniting the young people and creating 
 a sentiment which was especially needed. lie re 
 ported several conversions among Eurasians, and said 
 they would be on probation and under instruction 
 and baptized on proof of their stability. The native 
 pastor was not present, and Mr. Miller reported for 
 him that he was faithful in his work, earnest in 
 preaching, and generally popular among his people. 
 That one of the things in which native Christians 
 needed especial training was the holy keeping of the 
 Sabbath and in the regular attendance at church. It 
 was difficult for them to understand that it could be 
 required of them to go twice a day to hear sermons as 
 well as once a day to Sunday school on every seventh 
 day. The natural conclusion was that one sermon a 
 day was enough and all they could remember and un 
 derstand. He thought there was a general missionary 
 feeling in the Church, a feeling of responsibility for
 
 156 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 the conversion of their neighbors and friends; they 
 supported one large Sunday school in the city, and 
 they always give liberally to missionary collections 
 and to support their own pastor. 
 
 " What do you mean by liberally ? '' said the 
 Bishop. 
 
 " When we speak of the native being liberal it 
 does not mean what it would were I to say I was 
 liberal, as their salaries range from two dollars a 
 month upward to thirty, with very few above this, 
 and when a man keeps a family on two or three dol 
 lars per month he has not much left for giving/' 
 
 Mrs. Clinton was asked for her report in rather a 
 jocular way, as though not expecting any, and all were 
 a little surprised when she gave an account of what 
 she had done in the way of settling her house and 
 making calls, and also the story of Pnlmoni, and there 
 was a vigorous clapping of hands when she closed. 
 It is hardly necessary to say'that she omitted her ex 
 perience with her cook, for some things had already 
 shown her the absurdity of part of her plan, and she 
 regretted that she had not waited a few weeks before 
 she began her experiment. 
 
 As her report was so full and extended the Bishop 
 was asked to give his, and, perhaps unwisely, also asked 
 to give his impressions of mission work. 
 
 " I have been in this place nearly a week," he said. 
 " I have seen all of the missionaries of our own mis 
 sion, and some of those of other missions ; I have seen 
 jugglers and shawl-merchants; I have seen coolies 
 and Brahmans ; I have seen Mohammedans, Hindoos, 
 and Christians; I have seen boys' day schools, the 
 boys' boarding school and college, and the girls'
 
 THE STORY or SITARA. 157 
 
 boarding school ; I have seen the publishing house, 
 the Central Native Church and the English-speaking 
 Church, and the Home of the Homeless. I have 
 given a superficial attention to each one of these, as in 
 the short time I could not give more ; I have been 
 amazed, I have been pleased and displeased ; I have 
 been surprised at the strength and disappointed at the 
 weakness of the work. I have seen men and women 
 depriving themselves of comforts in order to provide 
 schools and distribute books and tracts, and yet in 
 dulging in luxuries; I have seen methods wise and 
 methods as unwise in the conducting of various parts 
 of good work. I would say there is great need of 
 many changes and much perfecting of plans and much 
 correction of methods in a work whose size and ex 
 tent is amazing to me. I beg you to remember that 
 I was asked to give 1113' impressions, and I have done 
 so, but it is only fair to say that I shall give them to 
 no one else until they have hardened into opinions. I 
 will not now go into details, but simply say that I 
 am open to conviction in regard to the points on 
 which I differ from you and in which I believe you 
 arc making mistakes. But I am sure of one thing at 
 least, we want less working on organic lines, less of 
 looking to the health and comfort and respectability, 
 and more of the old-time enthusiastic evangelical 
 work, more stir, more rush, more abandon, arid, if 
 need be as a consequence, more missionary graves in 
 India." 
 
 This was a bomb in the midst of this quiet circle, 
 and after its explosion there was silence. It is possi 
 ble that the Bishop thought his episcopal authority 
 extended to India and warranted him in his attitude
 
 158 THE BISHOP'S CONA'ERSION. 
 
 toward the missionaries. Certainly lie did not under 
 stand the fact that he was dealing with men who were 
 practically bishops themselves in their own territories, 
 and looked upon him simply as a visitor without any 
 authority. It was noticed that he did not mention 
 his humiliating defeat by the sun, though he could 
 not have forgotten it, for his head was still aching and 
 his eyes bloodshot. 
 
 The president said, gravely : " Your report lias the 
 merit of being frank, at least. As you wisely say, 
 you are only giving impressions. 1 shall ask the sec 
 retary to make this evident as she records your words. 
 At the end of the year you propose spending here wo 
 shall hope to record your judgment, and allow me to 
 say that I sincerely hope some of your words will not 
 be recorded the second time." 
 
 The formal meeting was closed with prayer, and 
 then tea was served and conversation became general. 
 Mrs. Clinton regretted her husband's plain speaking, 
 for she did not see how it could fail to intensify the 
 antagonism in the mission which she was sure was 
 there, for she did not see how it could fail to be there. 
 But, however, there was apparently little attention 
 paid to his remarks; in fact, no one spoke to him on 
 the subject except Mrs. Miller, to ask with asperity, 
 "If he was willing to set the example in regard to all 
 he was advising ( " but he ignored the question, and 
 argued with Dr. Wall, who had come up from Allaha 
 bad to take over the treasury work from Mackenzie. 
 Dr. Wall was trying to show him that already the 
 evangelical work had outstripped the organic work, 
 and that a man was in no position to judge until he 
 had seen all the mission stations. The subject on
 
 THE STORY OF SITARA. 159 
 
 which all were talking, and which seemed to elicit a 
 good deal of amusement, was a circular letter which 
 each had received from some one in authority asking, 
 in consideration of various reports which were being 
 circulated at home, that each missionary should give 
 a detailed account of his manner of living and send a 
 photograph of his home. The point involved that 
 seemed to afford amusement was the modest request 
 for a photograph. 
 
 Mrs. Miller said : "He, at least, must believe we are 
 extravagant, else he would not have asked us to do so 
 extravagant a thing as have our houses photographed. 
 We cannot even afford our own photographs to send 
 to our friends. I have wanted one for years to send 
 to my father, and could not find any money with 
 which to pay for it. I have half a mind to send a 
 letter saying we should like to have a photograph of 
 his house and an account of the way he lives. We 
 have as much right to ask it of him as he of us, 
 for he is supported by missionary money as well as 
 we are." 
 
 There was a laugh at this sally ; then Miss Whitlow 
 said : " The cost of a photograph would just support 
 the school that I have been obliged to give up for the 
 one year, so I cannot send one, and I cannot find 
 time to write letters now at any rate." 
 
 " I mean to do it," said Mrs. Mackenzie ; " not the 
 photograph, of course, but the description. I shall 
 not say my house looks well and is quite all I want, 
 but I shall describe the dry-goods boxes I use for 
 tables ; and also the fact that I have not one curtain in 
 my house would make a good point." 
 
 Then some one spoke of the approaching festivities
 
 1GO THE BISHOP'S CO;NVKRSION. 
 
 in honor of the visit of the future King- of England, 
 and some one else asked Carnton if lie registered the 
 names of all the missionaries of the station in the vis 
 itors' book at Government House. 
 
 " O," laughed Carnton, " this is why you all insisted 
 on the necessity of my calling there." 
 
 "Yes," answered Miller; "and why not? The 
 newcomers usually are sure of something respectable 
 in which to appear. We did duty when we first came, 
 now it is your turn." 
 
 "And if we did not get our names on the visitors' 
 book we would not be invited to meet the prince," 
 said his wife. 
 
 "Would that be an irreparable loss?" asked Mrs. 
 Clinton, a little scornfully. 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Mackenzie ; " but we must ap 
 pear to show our loyalty." 
 
 " And you forget the Fourth of July and all that 
 sort of thing," said Miss May, who was also one of the 
 new missionaries. 
 
 " No ; but one of the first steps in making men bet 
 ter and stronger is to teach them to be good citizens 
 
 O CJ 
 
 and loyal to the government that protects them." 
 
 "A very just sentiment," remarked the Bishop. 
 " We certainly have enough of the opposite to this in 
 people coming to America and working against all 
 law and all who execute law." 
 
 " Well," said Mackenzie, " I am willing to be loyal, 
 but I am not sure it goes to the extent of buying a 
 new hat, as I shall be obliged to do if I appear on this 
 occasion." 
 
 " I also," said Miss Lowe. 
 
 " I likewise," said Miss Whitlow.
 
 Tin-; STORV OF SITAKA. l(il 
 
 "And I,"' said Mrs. Mackenzie, amid the general 
 laugh. 
 
 After the large square curds came requesting the 
 honor of their presence to meet his royal highness 
 at a garden party in the park some of the new hats 
 were bought and some were not. Those that bought 
 them reflected that if they did not buy them then 
 they would have it to do the following year ; those 
 that did not buy them reflected that next year they 
 would be fresh.
 
 162 THE BISHOP'S COXVEKSION. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 
 
 prince came, of course. On the morning of 
 J. his arrival there was great stir and rush and 
 commotion in the European quarter of Lucknow, and 
 even the native part felt a thrill of expectation, and 
 poured out its inhabitants in their best dress to throng 
 the streets and add color and movement to the scene. 
 
 Arches of welcome lifted themselves bravely on the 
 roads the royal visitor was expected to pass, and the 
 roads themselves were outlined by fences of lattice 
 work which was to support the chirags for the illumi 
 nations. All society was on the terraced tops of the 
 principal hotels waiting impatiently ; for at seven in 
 the morning, even in February, the sun is too pene 
 trating when straw hats and unlined parasols are the 
 only barrier between its rays and the head of the 
 European. 
 
 All not of society waited in the streets on foot, in 
 shabby garis, and sometimes in smart carriages. The 
 soldiers forming the guard that extended from Govern 
 ment House to the railway, station gazed with stolid 
 eyes on the procession of elephants and camels, in their 
 best scarlet and gold drapery, as they lumbered down 
 toward the station to pay their respects and lumbered 
 back again behind and before the plainly dressed 
 youth who sat erect in his carriage looking very tired
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 163 
 
 and almost sad because of all the attention lie was 
 receiving. 
 
 The program of his visit at Lucknow was as fol 
 lows : The public reception at the railway station ; 
 bath and change of dress, and tea at Government 
 House ; the opening of the Female Hospital erected 
 under the auspices of the association organized by 
 that wise and gracious lady, the Countess of Dufferin ; 
 breakfast ; a drive to the ruins of the Residency and 
 Dil Kusha; a garden party ; a dinner and a reception 
 by the native princes, with a private departure the fol 
 lowing morning. That the prince's speech at the open 
 ing of the hospital was not a marvel of eloquence, and 
 that his words were halting and shyly given was not 
 so strange as disappointing to those who wished the 
 English government to appear at its best. 
 
 Following the breakfast, at which were only the 
 ci'eme de la creme, was the drive. Following this the 
 u-nrden party in "Wingfield Park, to which the whole 
 of the government list w r as asked. 
 
 This park is beautiful with all that nature, shaped 
 and guided by art, can do for a plot of ground. 
 Grand old trees of banyan, tamarind, and pipal, their 
 round dark masses of foliage contrasting well "with 
 the straight tall palms and the gray, undecided-looking 
 eucalyptus, through the openings in whose foliage 
 were views of arch and dome and minaret. 
 
 The central part, free from many large trees, was 
 brilliant in all of color that flaming begonias, bougain- 
 villias, beds of roses, crimson, pink, yellow, white, 
 could give to a place. Through it all wound the 
 smooth dull red roads, cutting softly into close- 
 cropped green sward and joined by small bridges 
 13
 
 164 THE BISHOP'S CONVKRSION. 
 
 thrown across nullas ending in fine perspective at 
 marble shrine or pavilion. 
 
 To-day the roses bloomed their best, and both roses 
 and heliotrope greeted each newcomer with a breath 
 so soft and sweet that it was a delight simply to live 
 and inhale it. When Mrs. Clinton and Lillian, with 
 Mrs. Mackenzie, arrived, the park was alive with beau 
 tiful women in fresh costumes and men looking shy 
 and self-conscious in unaccustomed black. 
 
 Along with these, but clearly not of them, were na 
 tive princes in all the glory of priceless shawls or 
 brilliantly colored gold-embroidered chapkans. There 
 was more than the buying of new hats to make the 
 mission log dread the garden ] arty. They are so gen 
 erally buried in their work that they are annoyed 
 with anything that is not work and do not know how 
 to manage it. 
 
 Now and then kind-hearted people go out of their 
 way to ask them to garden parties or dinners, but 
 those who receive the invitation are often sorry and 
 those who give it, nearly always sorry; for when the 
 latter have actually got a missionary on their hands 
 they do not know what to clo with him. He is heavy 
 and often sad, he is stern and pays no compliments 
 and tells no stories; he steps on the ladies' trains and 
 wishes himself home in bed gathering strength in 
 order that he may put two days' work into one. So it 
 is with a sigh of relief on both sides that he bids his 
 hostess good night, and it will be many a long day 
 before he is invited again; and he burrows in his 
 work and forgets the social amenities of life. "When 
 the viceroy comes on his annual tour, or some royal 
 highness happens along, then comes the request,
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 165 
 
 otherwise command, to be present at a ball or garden 
 party or reception. The first always calls up a smile 
 and the latter are laid on the table with the thought 
 that they ought to be accepted, and, if there is time 
 that can be snatched, the missionary and his wife 
 emerge for an hour or two and look on what is to 
 them another world. Though it brightens them up 
 they feel so little lot and part in it all that they go 
 back happy to their work and their native friends. 
 
 There was an unusual number of missionaries pres 
 ent to show their respect to the prince. They came 
 at different times and were of different missions, but 
 they gravitated toward each other and stood -quietly 
 about, interested in the new costumes, fresh from 
 Paris for the occasion, chatted with occasional ac 
 quaintances among the native princes, or sat under 
 the " shamiana " quietly observing the scene and wish 
 ing it were over. The Bishop came late with Oarnton, 
 both having worked up to the last moment. It was not 
 long before the latter stood by Sidney, who was in the 
 marble pavilion, with Lillian at her side, looking at 
 the jewels placed there in securely locked glass cases 
 for general inspection. The wild ro>e color was a 
 little deeper in her cheeks than usual, for the others 
 had been remarking on the fact of her having both a 
 
 O O 
 
 new dress and a new hat for the occasion, and Mrs. 
 Clinton said, laughingly, that it might be a good thing 
 to suggest to the " ladies at home " to make an 
 especial appropriation for one new dress and one 
 bonnet for all the single lady missionaries each year. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said Lillian, so earnestly that all 
 laughed. 
 
 " Lillian's judgment is sound," said Carnton, watch-
 
 1C6 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 ing the color deepen in Sidney's cheeks Sidney 
 turned away and bent over the case of jewels next 
 to her. It was all very well fur the others, but from 
 him, her new friend, for she claimed him as such, she 
 could not bear that kind of talk. 
 
 "O, Miss Mellen, look!" cried Lillian. "The 
 mark on this coat is forty thousand rupees ! Is it not 
 perfectly lovely I " 
 
 "What? the mark?*' said Carnton, teasingly, as 
 he glanced indifferently at a purple velvet coat, em 
 broidered heavily with gold, and thickly sown with 
 pearls, large and small. 
 
 "And this," said Lillian, oblivious to any remark, 
 and giving Sidney a pull, "isn't this a darling-?" 
 pointing to a necklace of pearls; "and this," indicat 
 ing one of diamonds; "and this," dragging her friend 
 along. Then there were more necklaces of pearls, 
 then a huge one of topazes, with long pendants of 
 the same, then a case of opals and moonstones, and 
 next to that one of sapphires and turquoises. 
 
 Lillian had a passion for stones strange in a child. 
 Their color and brilliancy delighted her beyond meas 
 ure, and here she found a feast. 
 
 Others looked at the prince and watched Sir May- 
 land's struggles with him, but she had eyes only for 
 the treasures before her. Carnton had introduced a 
 nawab, who could speak English, to the Bishop, and 
 then felt free to do whatever he liked, which seemed 
 to be to look at Sidney and talk to her. 
 
 " Sir Mayland looks worried," lie said, lightly, as 
 the prince came near, "as though he feared his lion 
 might slip his leash, escape his keepers, and be at 
 in a defenseless crowd/'
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 107 
 
 " Certainly ; whether or not lie is afraid, his eyes 
 never for an instant leave his royal guest. Some one 
 who knows him well says that his hair is perceptibly 
 grayer than it was yesterday morning. Of course, I 
 suppose it is something of a responsibility to make 
 the visit a success all around native princes and all."' 
 
 " Yes, indeed, and I do not envy him in the least; 
 but what do you think of him not Sir Mayland, but 
 our future sovereign ? This is the proper thing to say 
 to-dav, and leave the weather to some less fortunate 
 day.'' 
 
 "What do you think of him?" Sidney replied, 
 asking another question. 
 
 " I am profoundly sorry for him. Traveling night 
 and day, constantly assisting at functions and making 
 speeches, and attending fetes and dinners and balls 
 and receptions, until his soul must loathe the land of 
 India. It is new and strange, and the strangest part 
 of all must be his sudden coming to the front in this 
 way, for he has been kept as a boy at home." 
 
 "By the way, our native Christian gathering was a 
 failure this morning." 
 
 " How was that ? " 
 
 " There was something wrong in the management 
 or the program, and it turned out a muddle, and 
 disappointing to those who had taken the trouble to 
 come. If we had gone in for a little more shan-o- 
 shaukat we might have succeeded in getting the com 
 missioner's attention, or had it been the prince's most 
 august grandmother it might have been a different 
 matter. Speaking of her reminds me of the last ex 
 ploit of our tamasha wala missionary. Did you hear 
 what he did?"'
 
 16& THE BISHOP^S CONVERSION. 
 
 " Mr. Creed \ No, but something funny, I am 
 sure." 
 
 " Of course. He tried first to get an audience with 
 the prince in order to solicit his subscription for the 
 Gawahi-i-ffind, but he was barred out. Then he 
 wrote the prince a most grandiloquent letter begging 
 a subscription, which was answered by the private 
 secretary, who sent the price of two copies of the 
 paper for a year. Then Creed wrote a letter of pro 
 fuse thanks, and sent his salaams to ' the respected 
 grandmother,' and begged the prince on his arrival at 
 Windsor to solicit her subscription for the paper." 
 
 " The most annoying part of it all is that he is not 
 given credit for zeal, but is simply taken as a speci 
 men of Yankee cheek. Colonel Reed, who told me, 
 said as he finished, ' Creed is a genuine American.' I 
 must say one gets rather tired of ' the genuine and 
 typical American' after having him so often pointed 
 out." 
 
 They found themselves alone in the Baradari, the 
 people, like a lot of children with a hand organ, hav 
 ing followed in the wake of the prince, who had been 
 taken down one of the walks between the pansy beds 
 to see a fight between a cobra and a mongoose. 
 
 " I need hardly ask you if you have been in the 
 fernery," Carnton said, leading the way down the 
 steps toward it, " for I hear you never go to any place 
 but to your work." 
 
 " My presence here to-day confutes that state 
 ment." 
 
 " To-day does not count, Everybody must come 
 to-day that is, if asked, but the time to see the park 
 is at daybreak. I have been down twice this week at
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 160 
 
 that time. I get the exercise 1 need, and have a book 
 of history which I have to teach in my pocket, and pre 
 pare the lesson as I walk. You would enjoy the walk." 
 
 " I dare say, but we are on our way to the zenanas 
 at that time, or will be after this week. It is getting 
 a little hot already in the middle of the day." 
 
 " Yes, the hot winds have fairly begun now," as 
 they entered the fern house ; " is not this worth com 
 ing to see ? " 
 
 " Yes, surely," answered Sidney. Ferns and ferns 
 and ferns, small and fine as lace up to those large and 
 coarse as palms. Palms as fine as ferns, canes glossy 
 and luxuriant, crotons with splashes of scarlet and 
 pale yellow and emerald green ; orchids that would 
 have made the fortune of an American florist, and 
 many strange, uncanny plants that Sidney did not 
 recognize. There was a delight in being there for 
 which she hardly could account, and was it the sun 
 light filtering down through the palms and huge 
 ferns and on the gleaming goldfish in the basin of the 
 small fountain, or the band in the distance playing 
 one of Schumann's most dangerously sweet melodies, 
 or the soft fragrance in the air about them that made 
 life so bi-ight to Carnton just then? Or was it the 
 brown eyes so full of earnotness and truth lifted to 
 meet his? Or, after all, was it the consciousness, 
 which he had had from the first moment he had seen 
 her, of a nature perfectly sympathetic with his own? 
 
 They talked a little of the plants about them, and 
 then went back again to their own individual work 
 and the .special incidents of the week ; but what did 
 the subject matter when both felt the joy two natures 
 of a generous mold feel in meeting?
 
 170 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 What curious creatures we human beings are! 
 "What is our best strength but weakness? We may 
 live lives that are noble, and such as our whole 
 natures, guided by a reason that is in subjection to 
 a higher power, approve, and yet in the details of that 
 living we falter and grope and stumble and are far 
 from sure that we arc right unless we have the ap 
 proval of other beings equally faulty, equally fallible, 
 and ns likely to be wrong as ourselves. And when 
 we find a nature that, apart from volition or will, is 
 so constituted that it is in entire sympathy with us, 
 then comes a sense of rest and peace that is like a 
 benediction. 
 
 It was thus that Carnton felt ; Sidney was a bene 
 diction to the highest and best of his nature. And he 
 so little knew what it meant that he would have 
 been surprised had others not felt the same. So sure 
 was he that her superiority was apparent to all, he 
 would have been surprised had anyone criticised her, 
 and he would have taken the criticism only as an evi 
 dence of the person's own degeneracy. 
 
 Others came into the fernery, and they moved 
 away in a happy dual silence that can only come 
 where there is perfect sympathy. 
 
 Carnton was essentially a modern missionary. Had 
 he been born fifty years earlier he would have been 
 a pioneer, who would have broken new ground and 
 led exploring parties and planted missions in new 
 countries. In fact, his work in the remote mission 
 station in the mountains had been much of that type. 
 lie had had foundation work to do in a compara 
 tively new place primary schools to organize, native 
 preachers to train and advise and reprimand, accounts
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 171 
 
 to keep, and, what lie liked better than all, evangelistic 
 work in villages. 
 
 It was a great trial to give it up and come to the 
 college and do the routine work of teaching ; yet the 
 very pioneer work which he had done made him will 
 ing and anxious to have a chance to train men to be 
 helpers; for he had been so hindered, had so often 
 been foiled in his plans by the lack of trained intelli 
 gent assistants, so often disappointed in the power of 
 his native preachers to grasp fully the truth they 
 taught, and to convev to others, even when it was 
 
 O / 
 
 intelligible to themselves, that he was ready to spend 
 years in training minds and developing character. 
 People who have around them and have had back of 
 them for ages a Christian civilization can have sim 
 ply no conception whatever of the deadening effect of 
 priesthood and image-worship, whether of the Ro 
 man Catholic Church or of the Hindoo form of re 
 ligion on the hearts and minds of a people ; for the 
 narrowness of outlook, the lack of comprehensiveness 
 or grasp of mind it engenders is appalling, and to 
 counteract these tendencies requires patient, unweary 
 ing teaching. 
 
 o o 
 
 Though the heart of man always, when quickened 
 by the Holy Spirit, grasps the truths of the Gospel of 
 Christ gratefully, the mind inactive or dormant lags 
 behind, and needs food and training and up-building. 
 
 Carnton, though he knew he had faults, felt he had 
 a character and a plan for work and for making 
 men nobler and better that he was willing to impress 
 on other young men. lie was strong physically, 
 mentally, and morally, and he did his work heartily, 
 as unto God, and not unto man. There was nothing
 
 1 1-1 THE BISHOP^S CONVERSION. 
 
 ascetic in his plan, for he said he was a follower of 
 Christ, who, while preaching a self-denying, self-sacri 
 ficing life, had no asceticism, and preached none. He 
 walked and talked as though life were full of interest, as 
 though every hour were worth living, and as though, 
 through the grace of God, he was not only master of 
 his work but also of himself. He had never been in 
 love. When a strong feeling of admiration had come 
 for this or that woman he had put it down or ignored 
 it or kept away from the person that inspired it, believ 
 ing that discretion in such matters was the better 
 part of valor, as he had no wish to hamper his life- 
 work by marrying. Of course, like other men, he 
 had, down out of sight in his heart, an ideal woman 
 whom he should meet some day and on whom he 
 would pour out the strength of a heart that he knew 
 might be full of a strong and worthy and enduring 
 love when the sweet fair unknown should dawn on 
 his life. But not in India was she going to be 
 found. Xot any strong-minded lady doctor or super 
 intendent of a girls' school, or zenana teacher, who 
 had control of as much and as important work as a 
 man, and who had an office and a desk where she 
 transacted mission business and interviewed assistants 
 and planned and organized. O, no; but a sweet, 
 .shy, household goddess, who was to find her whole 
 happy sphere in her home and the simple round of 
 home duties. 
 
 Of course, he had the highest respect for the women, 
 both married and single, wko were doing a work that no 
 one else could do, and without whom the work would 
 progress but slowly, and he understood that the hus 
 bands of the married lady missionaries were making
 
 THK VISIT OF THE PBINOE. 173 
 
 the greatest possible sacrifice in allowing their wives 
 to give their whole minds and strength, growing old 
 before their time, to mission work ; but it was not his 
 plan, for some way it had never seemed quite right to 
 him, though he was at a loss to say just where it was 
 wrong. 
 
 No, not in India was the home of his heart to begin ; 
 but some day lie too, like others, would be worn out 
 and need a change, and then he would go back home 
 and find some sweet woman who would complete his 
 life and give him in exchange love for love, full 
 measure and shaken dowi^. 
 
 This interest in Sidney only struck him as a very 
 common, natural sort of thing. He felt that if he 
 must go out it was a great relief to have one so sym 
 pathetic with whom to spend the time, and beyond 
 this he would not or did not reflect, and did not see 
 what Mrs. Clinton saw that he had been strangely 
 silent out of Sidney's presence since the first day he 
 had seen her. 
 
 The long shadows of the tamarinds stretched farther 
 and farther across the green sward, the fronds of the 
 palms back of the flat-roofed Baradari against the sun 
 set sky began to look soft and gray and more feathery; 
 the statues half hidden by dark green shrubs had a 
 cold look, and flushes died away from the cheeks that 
 had glowed under the fervid sun, and perhaps under 
 other glances as fervid. 
 
 All began to remember that the day was not half 
 done, and still the prince stayed. The missionary 
 parties began to melt away imperceptibly, for it was 
 not etiquette to leave openly before his royal highness. 
 Probably Mrs. Clinton left the most willingly of all.
 
 174 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 She did not like all this that is, she liked it well 
 enough for herself, for it was quite right and proper 
 that she should see all there was to see; but a garden 
 party in the afternoon and a reception in the evening 
 of the same day were too much for missionaries. It 
 looked too much like the ordinary life of ministers at 
 home ; and if it went on this way the whole year 
 what material would she have with which to make 
 missionary speeches? 
 
 True, there was nothing very frivolous in groups of 
 missionaries dividing into twos and threes and wan 
 dering about in this gay scene in their rusty browns 
 and blacks, like an unobtrusive minor melody through 
 the symphony of color. 
 
 She had also found that they were like Christian in 
 Pilgrim?* Progress they always carried their packs 
 <3n their backs, for when she joined different groups 
 here and there they were invariably talking of work, 
 of new schools or of old scholars, of appointments ; 
 and there seemed a general disposition to get each 
 other's opinions that surprised her, for she had been 
 saying to herself not to her husband, you may be 
 sure that the missionaries were self-sufficient, opin 
 ionated, and altogether too well satisfied that they 
 were right. She also said that they were too lively ; 
 there was too much of a tendency to look at the ab 
 surd and humorous side of life, to tell funny anecdotes, 
 and to seem to seek occasion to laugh and be amused. 
 
 She did not discover that this resentment toward 
 them began with her little disagreement with Mrs. 
 Mackenzie, and was intensified every time she made 
 a suggestion to anyone that was shown to be absurd, 
 and every time she hit the wrong nail on the head.
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 175 
 
 and every time she had to acknowledge herself beaten, 
 as in the case of the cook and in regard to the wearing 
 pith hats. She had a distinct feeling of being out of 
 it all that was a constant irritation. 
 
 The strange part of it was that she had always 
 thought and her friends had said of her that she cared 
 nothing for position and deference and having a 
 leadership. But as she had always had all these, who 
 could tell how much she cared fur them until she was 
 deprived of them ? It is said we are eacli made up of a 
 trinity of characters that is, what others think we are, 
 what we think we are, and what we really are. It is a 
 curious study to see the transition from the person made 
 up of the two first, to the nakedness of the last, and 
 nowhere can it be seen more clearly than in the flitting 
 of a person from one civilization to another. It seems 
 sometimes to involve an utter change of nature, though 
 in reality it is only a sloughing off of the character as 
 cribed to them it is only the tadpole, that would have 
 remained forever a tadpole, smothered by the environ 
 ment of position and convention, emerging into the 
 full-grown frog; and the patience that the missionaries 
 show with the mistakes made by those " fresh in the 
 field ? ' leads the thoughtful to suppose that their own 
 tadpole experience is not far enough removed for for- 
 getfulness. If when Mrs. Clinton was watching the 
 missionaries for weak places, for a lack of heroic en 
 durance, and for unnecessary self-indulgences, if ever 
 a remote suggestion was made to her consciousness 
 that she was getting to be a different person, a person 
 that she did not like as well as the Mrs. Clinton who 
 had been amiable and popular and wise in America, 
 she dismissed it at once, saying it was the country
 
 176 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 that was different; like the old Indian lost in the 
 woods : " Injun not lost, wigwam lost. Injun here," 
 slapping himself on his breast. 
 
 However, as time went on she was less sure about 
 the "Injun," though she lamented the loss of the wig 
 wam. Her resentment toward Mrs. Mackenzie was 
 also a curious thing, and only to be explained by the 
 fact that it is easier to forgi-ve people anything else than 
 the injuries, either in thought or deed, that we do them. 
 But she kept it well under, and it amounted only to a 
 feeling that made her a little unhappy, but did not pre 
 vent her being on friendly terms with Mrs. Mackenzie 
 and going with her any place she wished to take her; 
 and so after the garden party they went away together 
 to a native Christian women's prayer meeting held by 
 Mrs. Mackenzie. 
 
 The Bishop had found several native gentlemen who 
 could speak English and one or two who, though not 
 speaking it very well, could understand it and stood 
 by interested while he conversed with those who spoke 
 more fluently. He was loading himself with infor 
 mation, and was loath to go when Carnton came and 
 reminded him that he had promised to be present at 
 the college students' weekly prayer meeting. 
 
 Sidney also had hurried off to meet her Bible 
 women and prepare the Bible lesson for the next day's 
 teaching in the zenanas. Each and every one of the mis 
 sion log had some especial duty, and rushed away feel 
 ing he must work all the harder for the brief idleness. 
 Just as the Bishop and Carnton were getting into the 
 latter's cart Mr. Miller came and asked them to drive 
 to Nola Gange and see Shew Pershad, the boy-hus 
 band of Sitara, who was ill, and had sent for him to
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PKINCE. 177 
 
 conic and see him ; but he had a class of students 
 in English which he could not well postpone, and 
 would ask them to go in his place. So they drove 
 away as fast as the pony could take them, down the 
 one English business street, past the ruins of the 
 old Residency, the tower of which showed darkly 
 against the afterglow still in the sky, though the old 
 cannon of mutiny fame at its base was lost in purple 
 shadows. 
 
 Talking of the horrors of that dreadful time and of 
 the chances of its ever being repeated, they were soon 
 at, the beginning of a street so narrow they were 
 obliged to leave the cart and walk down streets 
 where three could not walk abreast, around square 
 corners, past tanks and drains of green and black 
 water that made them hold their breath, and past 
 many high mad walls in which were small wooden 
 doors. At last they stopped before one of the latter, 
 and Carnton, rapping, called out the usual question : 
 "Koi hai?" 
 
 Jt was quickly opened by a female servant, who 
 asked what was wanted. 
 
 "It is I, the teacher of Shew Pershad, come to in 
 quire of his health and well-being." 
 
 The woman salaamed low and led them quickly across 
 one corner of the small court around three sides of 
 which the house was built and showed them into a 
 small room, empty save for the bed on which the boy 
 lay and a brass lamp in a niche in the wall. The inex 
 pressible dreariness of the Indian home never struck 
 Carnton more forcibly than now as he took Shew 
 Pel-shad's hand in his and said, 
 
 " What is it, brother, that is making you. so ill 2 "
 
 178 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 "Nothing, only fever. I am very glad you have 
 come ; I knew you would, and I want Sitara and my 
 mother." 
 
 This was said feebly and with the hesitating utter 
 ance that told Cam ton the fever was high, even before 
 he placed his hand on the hot forehead and felt the 
 heavy throb of the pulse. 
 
 "What has the doctor said? of course you have a 
 doctor?" The last was said anxiously, for he well 
 knew the native dislike to any road to recovery. 
 
 " I wanted the doctor of the hospital, but the peo 
 ple here in the house said no, but to have one of their 
 witchcraft men to come and practice charms, and I 
 had neither." 
 
 An exclamation of impatient disapproval escaped 
 Carnton, and he said, 
 
 " I will see your cousins," and went out quickly. 
 
 The Bishop had stood silently in the shadow be 
 yond the reach of the dull light of the little lamp, but 
 lie came forward and took the boy's hot hand in his, 
 and after a word or two of greeting for he was ac 
 quainted with his history knelt on the mud floor by 
 the rude bed and prayed earnestly in his deep and 
 solemn voice for the recovery of health and for peace 
 of mind and joy of heart to come to the poor sufferer 
 before him, and then closed with the holy benedic 
 tion, which fell with a calming force on the troubled 
 heart. Though Shew Pershad's knowledge of Eng 
 lish was imperfect, the strength and power of the 
 vigorous Christian man by his bedside impressed itself 
 and his heart grasped what his head, dulled with fever, 
 failed to comprehend. 
 
 " May God give you the blessing of perfect faith
 
 THE VISIT OF THE PRINCE. 179 
 
 in him, and in his Son Jesus Christ ! " Oarnton, who 
 had come in quickly, translated, as She\v Pershad did 
 not quite understand. 
 
 " He has given it to me. We will be saved from 
 sin and from transmigration, both I and Sitara, and 
 afterward my mother perhaps. The great Sacrifice 
 saves us.'' 
 
 '"Amen," said the Bishop, and "Amen " said Carnton 
 in his heart. Then aloud : 
 
 "I have told these people that you must have a 
 doctor, and I am going to bring him at once, that 
 there may be no mistake ; " and beckoning to the 
 Bishop they went out. 
 
 When they were outside Carnton said : 
 
 " The boy is very ill, and unless he is looked after 
 at once he will be gone almost before we know it. 
 The careless way the natives live, tlieir utter disregard 
 of the laws of health, their indifference to contagion, 
 and the absence of animal food, make them swift and 
 easy prey to any disease that comes along. I will 
 drive to Miss Whitlow's and ask her to take the boy's 
 wife down there ; for at least she will be some com 
 pany for him, and can get him water and see that his 
 food is brought at the proper time. If you will take 
 entire charge of the prayer meeting, I shall be greatly 
 obliged. Field will help you." 
 
 The Bishop promised, and the doctor came, as did 
 also Sitara. Miss Whitlow brought some corn flour 
 and arrowroot, as she knew that probably nothing 
 had been given him but curry and other things im 
 possible for an invalid. 
 
 The doctor's opinion was not given, as he said he 
 must wait and see him a<rain.
 
 ISO THE BISHOP'S CONVKK.-ION. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE TALUKDAR'S RECEPTION. 
 
 IX the old days after the Mohammedan conquest of 
 Hindostan, when Delhi was the capital and the 
 center of the power and magnificence of the Mogul 
 empire, Oude was one of the twelve " subas," or dis 
 tricts, into which the conquered territory was divided 
 hy the-Emperor Akbar. From being simply a " siiba," 
 with a governor appointed by the emperor, it was 
 gradually transformed by the energy and ambition of 
 its governors into something like a state, with a nawab 
 wazir at its head. Later on the nawabs became kings, 
 and Lucknow their capital, where they had a court 
 renowned even in the Orient for its extravagance and 
 splendor. Different kings built palaces for them 
 selves, and the locality where the principal palaces are 
 congregated is called " Kaiser Bagh," from the fact 
 that one of the kings said he would form a dynasty 
 after the plan of the Caesars, but which should rival 
 theirs. Now only old palaces used for various gov 
 ernment offices, for club libraries and museums, and 
 the name " kaiser " a corruption of Caesar remain 
 to tell of his foiled hopes and ambitions. The largest 
 of all, the old zenana palace, built by Wazid AH Shah, 
 the last reigning king, for his thousand wives, is a 
 huge structure extending originally around four sides 
 of a park in which were pleasure-houses, pavilions.
 
 THE* TALUKDAK'S RECEPTION. 181 
 
 fountains, shrines, and a small lake over which was 
 thrown a bridge. It is indeed a huge palace, but a 
 large one was necessary, that each woman could have 
 a suite of rooms for herself and servants. 
 
 "When Wazid Ali Shah was transferred to Calcutta, 
 Oude taken from him and annexed to the British ter 
 ritory, the women were scattered far and wide, and 
 now part of the palace is empty and part rented to 
 various people who choose to live there, and the prin 
 cipal pleasure-house in the inclosed park, owned by 
 the Maharani of Balrampore, has come to be the place 
 where the native princes, or " talukdars," give their 
 receptions. This is called the White Baradari, and 
 consists of a house with several large rooms built well 
 up from the ground. The large, lofty central room 
 is supported by pillars ; around this are side rooms, 
 and if more space is needed the wide arched verandas, 
 which are arrived at by flights of steps, are inclosed. 
 The building has the appearance of being of white mar 
 ble, though only the finishings are of this, and when 
 lighted and filled with people it has a most splendid 
 appearance. 
 
 As the Bishop, Mrs. Clinton, Miss Whitlow, and 
 Miss May drove in at one of the great gates the park 
 was a blaze of light, and the roads and walks were one 
 mass of moving humanity. 
 
 Miss May, the Bishop, and his wife were all going 
 to this reception for the same reason that is, because 
 they had never been ; and Miss Whitlow was going be 
 cause she had been before, and Mrs. Clinton preferred 
 having some one with her who knew the etiquette of 
 the place ; but most of the missionaries had found it 
 impossible to come from one reason or another.
 
 '182 TlIK UlSHOp's Co 
 
 The sides of the zenana palace had been covrivil 
 with bamboo lattice-work, the driveway.- were fenced 
 with the same about three feet high, and in the cor 
 ner of each square formed by the intersecting bamboo 
 was a little terra cotta cup with about an ounce of oil 
 and a lighted wick. 
 
 Over the gateway opposite to the one used as an 
 entrance lights formed words which blazed a welcome. 
 The trees and shrines were hung with colored lanterns, 
 and the walks and drives were filled with natives and 
 some Europeans, baboos, teachers and merchants and 
 clerks ; in fact, all the great mass of the population 
 were out to see the Walayati prince that they thought 
 might in the years to come bring them weal or woe, 
 but whose death knell has since sounded around the 
 whole world, which thrilled with sympathy for the 
 grief-stricken mother; to see also their own princes in 
 all the glory of their richest clothes, and last and least 
 the bold Mem Sahibs who came with uncovered heads 
 and it w r as reported uncovered necks and shoulders. 
 Policemen in their red pugris cleared the way before 
 them, and, leaving their wraps in the carriage and 
 showing their cards of invitation to the sergeant 
 stationed at the foot of the stairs, they went up the 
 red carpeted steps between two rows of soldiers stand 
 ing as stiff and straight as statues, the light pouring 
 through the open doors gleaming on the bayonets at 
 their sides. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton's party had come early, hoping to get 
 away a little earlier by so doing, and they selected a 
 seat where they could observe well without seeming 
 unduly curious. Few English wore yet present, but 
 many of the native swells had arrived ; only princes.
 
 THK TALUKDAR'S TIKCKPTION. lS.'> 
 
 of course not a, princess in ull the nnniber could ap 
 pear. They, the princesses and native ladies, were 
 already asleep at home dreaming of the glories their 
 lords were seeing, and hoping for a full description of 
 the festivity when they should once more have left 
 Lucknow and entered their elephant howdahs or their 
 bullock-carts for their palaces in the various parts of 
 Onde, and when the tediousness of the journey should 
 be relieved by hearing what had happened in their 
 visit to Lucknow. The princes were dressed much as 
 the\ T were at the garden party velvet and gold, dia 
 monds, rubies, and emeralds, and the light blazing 
 from the chandeliers was reflected from all this, and 
 blazed and bragged of the wealth of the small princi 
 palities' represented. They talked little, but stood 
 about watching others come now and then a party 
 of English, now and then some natives; but soon the 
 stream of people became continuous here a matron, 
 well satisfied that the daughters following her were 
 all one could wish, from fair hair banged low over 
 their foreheads to evening dresses made by native 
 men ; behind them a rajah with his fingers covered 
 with flashing jewels which were repeated and multi 
 plied on his turban and on his belt, or kamarband ; 
 then the handsome face and figure of the M T ife of 
 the general commanding the division, followed by the 
 fair-haired wife of the commissioner, and the homely 
 face of the surgeon general's wife ; then a party of mis 
 sionaries with their high-necked, long-sleeved dresses, 
 looking very foreign and out of place among the bare 
 arms and shoulders of the other women. They were 
 followed by Lady Huff and Lady Puff, and colonels and 
 captains and judges without number, and their wives.
 
 181 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 Then the band struck up, and there was a rattle of 
 arms, a general movement, and a Government House 
 party appeared, the prince walking with the governor, 
 who looked perfectly fagged, and only kept up by the 
 knowledge that this was the last " tamasha " on the 
 list, and a few more hours would see the end of the 
 ticklish business he had on hand. 
 
 The prince only looked a little more tired than 
 ever, doubtfully watching his keeper as to plan of 
 procedure. The usual address was given by the 
 talukdars and responded to briefly, and then the fire 
 works began with their customary rush and fuss and 
 explosions. 
 
 The native of India loves fireworks. Their light, 
 their flash, and their cheapness suit him ; he revels 
 in them and cheerfully goes without food, tightens his 
 kamarband to make up for the loss, and is happy in 
 watching them as they flash for a moment and are 
 gone. 
 
 The prince and his party were in a draped balcony, 
 and those who were not near him tried to get near 
 some one that was near him. 
 
 Again Carnton, who had done all possible for Shew 
 Pershad, is near Sidney. She is unthinking, he is 
 unthinking, but both are elated and happy. He be 
 gins to be sure it is a good thing for a missionary to 
 leave his work and go out now and then among 
 people; it brightens him up so much. He had no 
 habit of introspection, else he would have tracked 
 this feeling to its source. But his healthy, hearty, 
 strong nature let him live and move and have his 
 being without hunting down all his feelings and sen 
 sations. Herein, however, lay danger to his plan for
 
 Tin: TAI.TKDAK'S RECEPTION. 185 
 
 nis life-work. So they talked, standing near Mrs. 
 Clinton and the Bishop and Miss Whitlow, the Bishop 
 moralizing on various things, asking how the money 
 for the entertainment was provided, who kept up the 
 park, to whom the old palace and the Baradari be 
 longed, all of which Miss Whitlow answered, drawing 
 Sidney into the conversation. Then Carnton wan 
 dered away. There was a nawab he wished to see, 
 whose opinion he wanted on some question the Bishop 
 had asked, and he mingled with the rajahs and nawabs 
 in order to find him. Standing here and there in the 
 semi-darkness he overheard bits of conversation per 
 taining to the prince like this : 
 
 "When the queen dies, then her son will come to 
 the throne; but he is ill, and if this prince becomes 
 interested in us it will pay us for all." 
 
 From another group : 
 
 ''It is costing too much; the price is very heavy. 
 Once the viceroy comes, as he leaves India, and we 
 give him a tamasha ; once the new viceroy comes, as 
 he enters India, and we give him a tamasha. Now 
 the prince comes and we give him a tamasha, all in 
 one year. It is too heavy." 
 
 "True, true, but what will you do? They must 
 conic." 
 
 Then below this he heard the soft, deep voice of his 
 friend Sycd Mohammed Khan, "Yes, yes, they are 
 different ; " and then a voice from a shorter, younger 
 figure, whom a flash of rocket showed to be his son, 
 still a boy, but Carnton remembered having been bid 
 den to his wedding, which was to come off next month. 
 
 "But the English they wish our women to be 
 like theirs. The Miss Sahib who comes to teach
 
 186 THE Uisiioi-V ( '<>\\ i:i;>h>.\. 
 
 mother and my sisters tells them of many thing's that 
 English \vomen do ; they go about alone, and are 
 never afraid. If our women learn to read and write 
 will they also want to put away their chuddars and 
 go about with uncovered heads in their carriages like 
 these women to-night, and also uncovered shoulders ? " 
 
 "!N'o, you do not understand, my son. The Miss 
 Sahib is here, but she is not like these. The mission 
 people, did you not see, are covered. I do not myself 
 understand all their ways. In the blessed time when 
 the King Wazid AH was still here and glory was 
 everywhere present I thought them bad and danger 
 ous. I feared our women seeing them would be less 
 amenable to our authority, and would go about the 
 streets and talk with other men than their husbands, 
 but not so. I have now these many years known the 
 mission people, and they make our women better. 
 They give them something to do and make them less 
 like children." 
 
 " But to-day even the Miss Mellen Sahib, she walks 
 about among all the people with our Carnton Sahib, 
 and talks and smiles. She also teaches our women in 
 the zenanas, but it can never be that we allow our 
 women thus to talk to men." 
 
 " They are different, and with different customs, 
 and among them it is allowed that they converse often 
 with each other when they are to marry. It is a good 
 way, for then they know each the mind and disposi 
 tion of the other, and can more easily be happy 
 together.-" 
 
 Carnton came forward quickly. 
 
 " Forgive me, Xawab Sahib, I have been hearing 
 what you have said to your son. I am glad you see
 
 THE TALUKDAK'S RK( KPTIO.X. 187 
 
 so clearly. Were all your people as clear-sighted, 
 the Hindoos would not now have outstripped you in 
 the matter of education and government positions." 
 
 " True words, Padri Carnton, but there is a better 
 time coining for us. When our women can teach their 
 sons something besides ghost stories and old women's 
 tales there is hope for us, for the Mussulman is ever 
 a cleverer man than the Hindoo. The children of this 
 my son will see it and partake of it, for has not the 
 good Miss Lowe Sahib taught his future wife for 
 many years I and she is bright and quick to see and 
 think. You will not forget that you are to come to 
 his wedding next month '. " 
 
 ' O, no ; I could not forget it, my friend. If I 
 am well'I shall surely be there, and if you would not 
 mind I would like to bring the Bara Padri Sahib and 
 his wife, who have come from America to see India 
 and her people. He is very interested in all your 
 national customs." 
 
 " By all means ; we shall be very happy indeed." 
 
 Carnton bid him good-night and followed the stream 
 of people who were entering the side rooms, where 
 tables were spread with refreshments, soda-water, 
 lemonade, coffee, tea, cakes, jellies, sweets, and, Carn 
 ton saw with a pang, wines. The aversion with which 
 lie had always looked on the use of wine in India 
 amounted to extreme intolerance. Joining the 
 Bishop, who was having a cup of coffee in a small 
 room with the other missionaries, he said in fierce in 
 dignation : 
 
 " We show them a better religion and a higher 
 civilization, and then men and women calling them 
 selves Christians practice things that a good Mussul-
 
 188 THE BISHOP'S CONVKKSIOX. 
 
 man thinks beneath him. He would die before he 
 would allow his wife or daughters to be seen dressed 
 as some women here are dressed, and he would con 
 sider himself unworthy of the religion of Mohammed 
 if he drank wine." 
 
 " Yes," said the Bishop, " it is one of the serious 
 drawbacks." 
 
 "Drawbacks! It is worse, it is almost hopeless to 
 try to teach them Christ when they think they must 
 do these things if they become followers of his. A 
 Mohammedan said once to me: ' Is your religion bet 
 ter? I think not. I see everyday Christians reeling 
 through the bazars. Shall we also have to drink wine 
 when you have converted us?' Of course it was 
 said in derision." 
 
 "The Hindoos, I believe, have no objection to 
 wine ? " 
 
 "No, though they also connect wine-drinking with 
 Christianity. A young Hindoo, bright arid keen, 
 came to me one day and said : 
 
 "'I am English. Give me work.' 
 
 "'English?' I said, 'how is that? I would not 
 have taken you to be English.' 
 
 " ' Look at my clothes, are they not English ? I 
 drink wine, and I say " damn.'" Sometimes I feel as 
 though I cannot restrain my indignation ; I think I 
 have seen all there is to be seen, and I will go, for I 
 have had enough of this side of life ; " and with a 
 hasty good night to all he left and went home to 
 think. 
 
 lie had ignored the nawab's remark on his atten 
 tion to Sidney, but that did not mean he had not 
 heard and understood, nor did it mean that he did
 
 fiiK TALUKDAK'S RECEPTION. ISO 
 
 not feel as though he had had a small shock of earth 
 quake. 
 
 lie told himself that he had been careless in forget 
 ting that all he did was of great interest to his native 
 friends; that they, with their civilization, could not 
 comprehend the motives that underlay tho actions of 
 a European ; that of course they could not understand 
 that although he did not wish to marry in India lie 
 craved friends, and it would be hard indeed if lie 
 could not have such a sweet friend as Miss Mellen 
 simply because they could not understand there might 
 be friendship between men and women. lie told 
 himself this and much more of the same kind, but it 
 did not prevent him from being unconsciously joyful 
 at the thought of a possibility of her caring for him, 
 at the thought of their names being connected in that 
 way, and he be^an to wonder if the nawab had seen 
 anything in her face or manner to lead him to the 
 startling conclusion at which he had arrived, which 
 was a decided wandering from the point on which he 
 wished to think. That point was how, without injury 
 to her, to disabuse the minds of his native friends of 
 the thought of anvthinsj serious between him and Sid- 
 
 o v o 
 
 ney ; but some way he could not keep his mind where-he 
 wanted it. It would dwell on the varying color in her 
 face, of her devotion to her work, of the difference 
 between her and all other women he knew, and even 
 on such trifles as the color of her bonnet, and her in 
 terest in and love of flowers. He wondered if he 
 might not now and then send her some as a friend, 
 which was a decided step in the wrong direction, if he 
 wished to remain in single-eyed devotion to his work. 
 There was a group of servants outside the cook
 
 190 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 house, with their pugris off and sitting, so to speak, 
 in slippers and shirt-sleeves, which for a native means 
 a good deal more, or rather a good deal less. The 
 hookah was being passed around, and in a little way 
 off were two or three others gathered listening to 
 some one playing on a sitar. 
 
 Their voices were perfectly distinct to Carnton as 
 he lay on his bed in the room above them, but he paid 
 no attention until his own name was mentioned. 
 
 " Yes, Carnton Sahib is good enough, since one 
 must have a sahib, but then you see he has his gods 
 also, as we do, which accounts for his pleasant dispo 
 sition " (kush mezagh). 
 
 Carnton raised his head in astonishment and won 
 dered if he had heard aright. 
 
 " Ou, Bala Ram, do you think we are babies that 
 you tell us this ? Xo sahibs have their gods as \ve do. 
 They are followers of Jesus Christ." 
 
 "But I tell you," said Bala Ram with conviction, 
 " he has. There is one, Shnton, whose house is on 
 the mantel, and there is another, Oiner, who wrote 
 one of Carnton Sahib's sacred books. He also sits 
 over the fire. It is that they perhaps are the gods of 
 fire, only Shnton is the American god and not the 
 English?' 
 
 Carnton was shaking his bed. Washington and 
 Homer come to be the gods of fire, along with Agni ! 
 It was so funny that he could hardly stop to listen. 
 
 " It may be true, but the English and the Ameri 
 cans who can tell, with all their mad ways? 
 who can tell what they worship ? There is this 
 thing at least that is true, the mission people all 
 worship chairs, for do they not always, when at their
 
 THE TALUKD Ait's RECEPTION. 191 
 
 morning puja, kneel to their chairs, their faces lifted 
 toward them ? And also our people, when they be 
 come Christians, do they not at once purchase chairs 
 and put them in their houses that they also may kneel 
 to them ? And you see how much kinder and better 
 these sahibs are who have chair-worship than the sol 
 dier people who never have any gods. Your words 
 are true, and it is far better to have service with such 
 as are rational and have gods as \ve do." 
 
 There was a silence then, broken only by the sound 
 of the water in the basin of the hookah, and the sick 
 ening odor of the smoke filled the air while Carnton 
 marveled anew at the power of the native mind to 
 draw original and startling conclusions from the sim 
 plest and most ordinary acts, and he resolved that before 
 another sun set "Shnton" and ''Oilier" should alike be 
 broken in a thousand pieces; and with this was min 
 gled a little indignation that Bala Ham, who had been 
 with him for two years, should so misunderstand him. 
 
 lie was just falling to sleep when Roke wood's 
 name floated up. 
 
 " Yes, Rokewood Sahib is quite out of his mind ; 
 though thev are all out of their minds, as far as tlr.it 
 
 O 7 
 
 goes, and Rokewood Sah'b is only a little queerer 
 than the rest." 
 
 " That is as I said, brother. It is all one, and he 
 is a good sahib, though he is of low caste and without 
 the proper respect a sahib should have. It is, of a 
 surety, that he is of the carpenter or sweeper caste." 
 
 '* Hear the words of our brother the wise." said 
 Dabe Din, in derision. " He, without doubt, has been 
 to the sahib's country, and hence can tell of what 
 caste the sahib people are."
 
 192 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " But no " a little abashed at the laugh which 
 followed the last speech ; " but even the blind can see 
 that he is of low caste, else why did not the Lord 
 Sahib call him to-day to the tamasha to see the son of 
 the great queen ? and, also, why does he have a 
 sweeper cook, and why should he carry his own bag, 
 and why will not the other sahibs allow him to ride 
 in their garis? Though they will let him put his bag 
 in the gari, Rokewood Sahib himself is not allowed, 
 he is of such low degree." 
 
 " True," said Dabc ; " bnt now the sweeper cook is 
 a Christian. Still, who can tell what all these strange 
 men mean? Xot I, surely/' 
 
 When Carnton, before going to work the next day, 
 made a pretense of clearing his room, and cleared 
 out old newspapers and various other things that ac 
 cumulate in a bachelor's room, and also threw those 
 marble busts far out toward the cookhouse so ener 
 getically that they broke in many pieces, he found 
 out that they all trembled with fear, saying, 
 
 "For once our pleasant-natured sahib must be 
 angry, O, very angry indeed, when he thus would 
 smash and destroy his gods." And for days they did 
 their work with care and fear and trembling. 
 
 Then was his soul for a time filled with despair. 
 The utter impossibility of their ever coming to any 
 understanding of the truth seemed to come over 
 him like a wave of the sea of the impossibility 
 of men of such low intelligence ever being brought 
 out into light; and he had to recall, in order to cheer 
 himself up, some of the marvelous instances of those 
 that had increased in intelligence after being con 
 verted, and he could name among them hundreds of
 
 A NATIVK 1'RKACHKR. 
 
 "AYAH," OK NATIVK 
 
 YOC.NG BOY. 
 
 NATITE WOMAN.
 
 THE TALUKDAR'S RECEPTION. 198 
 
 men he was glad and proud to know were called 
 Christians. 
 
 Not sleeping well, he rose early and again took the 
 doctor down to Shew Pershad. Just why he felt un 
 easy and troubled about his young friend he could not 
 say ; but there was no doubt that he was decidedly 
 uneasy, for all through the festivities of the night be 
 fore, and even through these startling thoughts of 
 Sidney, every now and again the fever-bright eyes 
 and pinched face of the boy rose before him. 
 
 It takes about a minute and a half to form a lasting 
 friendship with any of the people of India, provided 
 the conditions are right, and the conditions had been 
 in favor of Carnton and Shew Pershad being friends, 
 for Carnton had heard of the Lochinvar-like raid the 
 Ivy had made when determined to have his wife re 
 moved from the narrowing influences which sur 
 rounded her, and was ready to give him warm-hearted 
 sympathy. This was repaid with something like 
 adoration from Shew Pershad, to whom the tall, vig 
 orous frame, the fair hair and eyes, the genial, mag 
 netic presence of Carnton were almost godlike, and 
 from knowing him he said he could better see how 
 Jesus Christ, who was strong and powerful, could 
 care for each and every one; for if he, a human being, 
 could be so good, how much more was it possible for 
 a divine being, for Carnton was, after all, only human, 
 and not divine. 
 
 Most people liked Shew Pershad. He had a brave, 
 simple way of meeting the truth gladly ; in fact, he 
 seemed sometimes to divine it where others would 
 only see a mist of falsehood. It was a sharp blow to 
 Carnton when the doctor said that there was little
 
 194: THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 chance of recovery unless some unexpected turn of 
 the fever came soon. Still, though it was a shock, 
 yet some way it was not unexpected. He was not so 
 much surprised as filled with sorrow. 
 
 Remaining a while to look after him, he learned 
 from Sitara that the witchcraft man had been there, 
 unknown to the patient, and had gone through his 
 performances and tried the quality of his various 
 charms, but ascribed their ineffectiveness, as did also 
 their priest, to the fact 'of his having become a Chris 
 tian, the gods being too angry at this to relent. 
 
 When the people in the house, who were distant re 
 lations and not at all fond of the boy, saw he was 
 sure to die, they wanted, after the usual custom, to 
 take up the bed and carry it down by the Gumti and 
 let him die there by the sacred river. But his 
 cousins said they would have no such thing done ; it 
 belonged to the old days of ignorance and barbarism, 
 and they hinted that the doctor, who was a good Hindoo, 
 would have something to say about it, and would 
 probably make trouble ,if they persisted, for he had 
 studied under an English doctor, and, besides, got his 
 pay from the English government. The people did 
 not like it; these new days and new ways were not 
 for them; it was unlucky tcr have a person die in the 
 house, and much more unlucky for a wretched Chris 
 tian, who was now suffering from the anger of their 
 god. Their family priest, a fat, well-fed old fellow, 
 and well paid by the family, which was not pool 1 , 
 tried to force them, and there was much discussion; 
 but the cousins held firm and said they would report 
 to the judge ; so poor Shew Pershad was allowed to 
 die in peace, and Sitara, hardly knowing the meaning
 
 THE TALUKDAR'S RECEPTION. 195 
 
 of death or bereavement, wept as she saw her mother- 
 in-law and her mother, who had arrived, M - eeping. It 
 had been a sore trial to them when their son and son- 
 in-law became a Christian, and this was the thing 
 they might have expected, and the priest strengthened 
 this belief by repeating many proverbs and quoting 
 from old traditions. When the priest governs the 
 family, whether lie be Hindoo, guru, or Roman Catho 
 lic padre, superstition is the whip by which he con 
 trols, and, strange to say, women, who are always 
 credited with such correct instincts and intuitions, 
 are easily led where the superior judgment of men 
 rebels. 
 
 Both Carnton and Miller visited Shew Pershad, and 
 gave hhn words of comfort, and he brightened much 
 as the end drew near. He told Carnton of the plan he 
 had had to go back to his village and teach them the 
 Gospel of Christ, and with this also to teach them 
 civilization, better ways to till their ground, to pro 
 vide against famine, and better ways of building 
 their houses ; he had thought of it all, and it was 
 hard to give it up; but Sitara, she was so quick, so in 
 telligent, so gentle, she might go if she were trained. 
 It was his wish for her to stay in some mission 
 school until she had learned much, and then go back 
 and tell them from him all the truth. He was too 
 weak to think or to be spoken to about all the diffi 
 culties in the way ; but Carnton promised to see Miss 
 Whitlow and have all done as he wished, if possible. 
 He then asked that he might be buried as a Christian, 
 and the next night the gentle spirit passed away. It 
 was sad, yet Carnton felt g*ad he had known him, 
 glad that he himself was there to help just such rare
 
 196 Tin-; BISHOP'S C<>NVKU<H>\. 
 
 simple natures, and it gave him more hope than ever 
 for the people he loved. 
 
 AVhen he spoke of Shew Pershad's wishes the 
 cousins told him it would be impossible. The mother 
 was satisfied to consider him back in caste, as cere 
 monies had been performed over him, unknown to 
 him, before his death. The family would not hear 
 of it, and declared they would appeal to the law, 
 as the mother was perfectly rabid already, and there 
 would only be a disgraceful hand-to-hand encounter 
 if the Christians persisted; and so it came that a strag 
 gling procession in the old Hindoo style followed the 
 bod}" wrapped in a new white sheet and placed on a 
 litter. There were in the procession all the relations 
 and many of their caste, and there were a loud drum 
 and cymbals and a horn or two, and much wild wail 
 ing of voices crying, "Ram, Ram, ki jai." 
 
 As Miss Whitlow watched them pass by her house, 
 the hot wind whirling clouds of dust about them, the 
 dreariness of it all came over her anew, dreary from 
 the sound, dreary from its being forced, and most 
 dreary of all because of the entire mockery it was in 
 being done for one who, had he been alive, would 
 have repudiated it all. 
 
 Though it was a long way to the burning ghat by 
 the Gumti their voices did not tire, but mingled with 
 the wail of the wind as it rushed madly down the hot, 
 partially dry river-bed, over the square-built funeral 
 pyre that stood stolidly waiting for its burden of clay 
 that so short time ago was quick with the precious 
 spirit now far from beyond all power of ignorance 
 and superstition. And even though the body had to 
 be subjected to the usual rites by the priest, and by
 
 THE TALUKDAR'S RECEPTION. 197 
 
 the nearest male relative, who lighted the fire that 
 reduced it to a charred and blackened torso which 
 was tossed into the river, what did it really matter 
 when it was so well, so very well, with the spirit? 
 
 And Sitara ? Miss Whitlow went at once to bring 
 her away according to Shew Pershad's wish, but the 
 little door in the wall was shut and locked, and all 
 was still. Xo answer was made to her question, 
 " Koi hai ? " and she looked at the door as though 
 she would question it in lieu of anyone appearing. 
 She felt that the hot wind, driving the sand against 
 the door, knew as much as she did, or perhaps ever 
 would, of Sitara's whereabouts, so perfectly helpless 
 is the European when the Hindoo shuts the door of 
 his castle against him. 
 
 Other days, haunted by the remembrance of her 
 bright face and by the remembrance of Shew Per 
 shad's simple, faithful life, she would go there, but 
 the door was always locked, and there was no appear 
 ance of it being inhabited. The cousin had found 
 another place in which to stay, and could not or 
 would not tell what had become of the poor little 
 child-widow, swallowed up by the dark surging sea of 
 native life.
 
 198 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CARES. 
 
 was a consultation in the Clinton household 
 _L one morning. The Bishop had been over to the 
 college, where he spent much of his time, and Mrs. 
 Clinton and Lillian had been to the annual prize distri 
 bution to the pupils of the girls' day schools of the mis 
 sion. Both she and Lillian had enioved it very much. 
 
 m w */ 
 
 It was held in the native church, the door having had 
 a covered way improvised so that xenana women 
 could get out of their dhoolies and ekkas and garis 
 without being seen by any chance passers-by, every 
 man employed about the place being first sent off. 
 The room was nearly full, chiefly of Mohammedan 
 women and girls, though there were some Hindoos, and 
 all in their best silks and jewels and embroideries. 
 Each recited selections from the Bible hymns and the 
 Ten Commandments. One from each school read 
 an essay or recited poetry, and one I'ead the history 
 of the schools and spoke in a commendatory and 
 grateful way of each lady missionary who had super 
 intended them. The government inspector of the 
 schools, a clever and capable Eurasian hidy, wliohad 
 been educated in mission school sat at Mrs. Clinton's 
 side and translated. 
 
 It was all very hopeful and interesting, and it was 
 with the greatest pleasure that Mrs. Clinton, with
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CARES. 199 
 
 Lillian's help, awarded the prizes, most of which had 
 been sent out by children's mission bands at home. 
 Lillian felt a new interest in these same children's 
 bands, and secretly resolved to work harder when she 
 returned to America. Then they had gone home in the 
 usual hired gari to breakfast, which was late, and a 
 late breakfast in a treacherous climate means great 
 exhaustion and a chance of other and worse things ; so 
 the family consulted. 
 
 The days were all so full that they hardly had 
 time to talk unless time was taken. The Bishop was 
 in great and constant demand, and Mrs. Clinton in no 
 less. They seemed, as Miss Whitlow said, to supply 
 a long-felt want, for there was always a little help 
 needed; some extra impulse to be given to especial or 
 new lines of work, and then they were always glad of 
 help in the regular services in the two churches. So 
 much and so important was the work each day that 
 the housekeeping, and even Lillian, was left rather in 
 the lurch; but for a few clays things had been too 
 bad and called for a halt. 
 
 There were three points to be considered. First, it 
 was plain that if Mrs. Clinton was to be out doing 
 schools and meetings and other things twice or three 
 times a day she could do absolutely nothing else. "Was 
 she to do mission work or housework ? 
 
 " Mission work, of course," decided the Bishop. 
 
 "Very well, that means another man to do the 
 dusting, watch the house, and make tea while the cook 
 goes out in the morning." 
 
 " Very well, then, let it be another man, and 
 let us hope we may have things in time and be 
 relieved from the annoyance of having the house
 
 200 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 un cared for," said the Bishop ; and the first point 
 was settled. 
 
 The next point was Lillian. She could not go 
 everywhere with her mother, as it was exhausting the 
 child, and was for many reasons not wise. But she 
 must go with her or have a woman to stay with her 
 at home. There was no other way. 
 
 "Very well," said the Bishop, " if there is no other 
 way, then of course there is no other way, and the 
 woman must come ; for I also can see that it will not 
 do for Lillian to go about all day. She is already 
 looking the worse for it." 
 
 Tsow the third point. They were paying out more 
 each day than the cost of owning a horse and gari, 
 losing time and risking infection, and getting fleas 
 and other things in the hired gari. It had been 
 clearly shown them sometime earlier that where 
 there was a necessity of going to all parts of a city 
 spread over thirty-six square miles walking was out of 
 the question, even would the hot winds and sun per 
 mit, which they did not. 
 
 The Bishop disposed of this third point by saying 
 he had already made inquiries and got Mackenzie to 
 do so, for a second-hand gari and a serviceable 
 horse. And then they sat down to their tardy break 
 fast. 
 
 Do not for a moment suppose that Mrs. Clinton 
 had given up her struggle or that she did not still 
 feel a little "out" with Mrs. Mackenzie, or that Mr>. 
 Mackenzie forgot. O, no; but there was so much to 
 be done that things which were not of the very first 
 importance got crowded out or driven aside, though 
 she meant ultimately to go to the bottom of everything,
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CARES. 201 
 
 and while she yielded the points of two more persons 
 who were to do the work she had the feeling that 
 the battle was not yet lost. These two, the khidmat- 
 gar and the woman to stay with Lillian, were only 
 two, and her number was still less than Mrs. Mac 
 kenzie's, and she meant to keep it so. There were 
 other points about which she felt sure she could 
 prove Mrs. Mackenzie in the wrong, points enough 
 to give her a comfortable, self-satisfied feeling. 
 
 The Bishop seemed so absorbed in the work he 
 had on hand that it was difficult to interest him in the 
 very things in which she had expected to have diffi 
 culty in restraining his condemnation, and she felt 
 aggrieved a little to think she after all was having to 
 do what he had come to do. 
 
 The Bishop was not asleep or indifferent. He had 
 a mind that did not occupy itself with details, but 
 took things largely, catching the salient points of a 
 scheme slowly, perhaps, but rather surely. The size 
 and extent and foundation of each department of the 
 work engaged his full attention, and it was impossible 
 that his mind could dwell on unimportant and petty 
 ways and means ; and he felt some little impatience at 
 his wife's insisting on appealing to him with regard to 
 every change she made. But she was too wise to 
 make all these changes and advances without getting 
 his sanction and having him understand they were 
 necessary, as she knew there would come a time in 
 the future for summing up experiences. 
 
 Not the least of a housekeeper's trials in India is the 
 grappling with a foreign language. The men among 
 whom her work is divided all know more or less of 
 her language, while she does not understand one word
 
 202 THE BISHOPS CONVERSION. 
 
 of theirs. This is enough to keep her from starving, 
 but it also places her more effectually in their hands 
 and leaves her more perfectly at their mercy. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton soon found that she must learn the 
 names of some things at least for which there were nc 
 English equivalents. So, without intending to study 
 the language, she got a Roman Urdu and English 
 dictionary, and finding the nouns unexpectedly easy 
 she learned a long list of them, as well as some easy 
 sentences, and then began. She told a man to bring 
 her a large fine house when she only wanted an ounce of 
 butter; she asked for a child to lay on top of a bed of 
 coals when she wanted wood ; she told her husband she 
 saw the girls at the Lai I>agh school eating grass houses 
 when she meant the round flat cakes which are their 
 common food; she complained to the cook that the 
 bread was an u old man " when she only meant it was 
 not fresh ; and she asked the butcher what " time it 
 was by the calf's hat," when she wished to know the 
 price of a calf's head. This latter she would never 
 acknowledge even though Carnton was coming up the 
 steps and heard the bargaining with the man at the 
 end of the veranda. 
 
 There was never a smile from those gentle, dark- 
 eyed people, and even the man with the calf's head 
 understood, which proves two things: First, that 
 they are a superior race of people, and, second, that 
 they have had much practice in understanding strange 
 and curious forms of their own language as used by 
 English-speaking people. 
 
 If when congenial friends and caste brethren are 
 smoking the hookah together, the stories of their 
 Mem Sahibs' efforts at Hindoostanee furnish food for
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CAUKS. 203 
 
 much deri&ion, and their Punch and Judy shows are 
 formed on the Sahib's mistakes and his treatment of 
 the servants, what then '. It is a very small and 
 harmless recompense to them, for all they must suffer 
 in keeping their faces grave and solemn wnen they 
 would give half their wages to he able to laugh. 
 
 When Mrs. Clinton first arrived in India she felt 
 happy in seeing the soft-voiced, white-robed serv 
 ants moving quietly about, cleaning and putting the 
 house in order, decorating the table with flowers, 
 bringing the food already cooked to the house, and 
 then at night, after every thing was done, closing the 
 doors softly and vanishing to their own houses, there 
 to cook their own food, or to eat it after their wives 
 had cooked it. 
 
 It seemed to her that at last she had found the par 
 adise for woman a place where she could be in har 
 mony with her environments, a place where she 
 could bid carking household cares begone, and, with 
 her mind and body free, do whatever seemed best. 
 What books might be read and even written ! what old 
 accomplishments might be raked up! and the mission 
 work that could be done seemed to stretch in alluring 
 endless perspective before her, if only she had not 
 come on a mission of reform, and if she could only 
 settle down with the accepted number of men that 
 most people had. Then, after all her wearisome and 
 unsuccessful attempts to reduce the number, she 
 finally had to surrender, backed by episcopal author 
 ity, and had nearly the usual number. She even 
 then found that things in India, as elsewhere, are not 
 what they seem. In succumbing to the usual num 
 ber she hoped to find relief and to be able to do
 
 204 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 much mission work and much visiting and write 
 many cheering, interesting letters to the elect ladies 
 in America interested in missions. She had been a 
 good housekeeper at home, using her quick brain to 
 simplify work, and to do the most in a given time 
 with a given amount of strength ; but it was a wear 
 ing existence, and one which she had often wished 
 could be less so, and yet she knew of no woman of 
 any social position in her own land, and with children, 
 who had a less harassing life. But she thought when 
 she first saw the Indian households that here, with 
 the same money she spent on her home in America, 
 on furnishing, repairs, on table and servants, she 
 might have an ideal home beautiful, comfortable, 
 and all arranged and kept up with the noiseless, fric- 
 tionless, turbaned, salaaming, and respectful servants 
 of Hindostau. 
 
 Tain dream ! There is no such paradise for 
 women on the round earth. Their lot is far removed 
 from paradise, and nowhere is it farther than when 
 served by these same respectful, soft-eyed Pir Bnxes 
 and Baba Lais. Not that, considering everything, 
 they are not in their way remarkably good servants. 
 Xot that Mrs. Clinton did not acknowledge that each 
 one, when once understood, was less trying in him 
 self than Bridget or Tom, but there were so many, 
 and each one's work depended on others, aud the in 
 fluence of climate, and one thing and another, were so 
 adverse, that to feel comfort and rest was impossible. 
 The mind was always braced for some disaster, some 
 failure of carrying out orders, some broken dish or 
 ruined treasure, some lack of coining up in time, so 
 that her nei-ves began to be in a very strange state.
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CAKES. 205 
 
 and she could agree with an old missionary who told 
 her that it' she went on with the same anxiety for her 
 house and housekeeping much longer she would "lose 
 her religion." 
 
 Her anxiety on this score was as much for her hus 
 band as for herself, for they botli loved order and 
 regularity and promptness, and the one reason of her 
 unusual success as a housekeeper at home and of the 
 great amount of literary work her husband had done 
 was their habits of regularity and promptness ; so this 
 irregularity was telling on him too. 
 
 " I really believe," he said one day as he had looked 
 at his watch twenty times in a half-hour, " I really 
 believe that I shall be tempted to chastise that cook if 
 he does not bring breakfast more promptly." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton regarded him with horror. Was her 
 husband losing his mind ! Surely sometimes she had 
 felt as though she was going mad, but her calm, un 
 emotional husband a bishop of the Church beating 
 a fellow-being ! 
 
 He smiled a little at her look, and said : " I hope 
 you do not think I would do it in anger, but what 
 can we do ? My morning's work is quite ruined by 
 this delay. I cannot resort to the usual method and 
 keep back part of his pay, for you say his wife is ill, 
 and so he especially needs what little he gets." 
 
 His wife did not lose her shocked expression. 
 
 " Do you not see," he said, " they are like children, 
 and should be punished as children. There is not the 
 least excuse for Xabi Bux having breakfast an hour 
 late. Now see;" and he opened the door, which was 
 closed as usual to keep out the hot wind, and went on 
 
 the veranda and lifted the heavy canvas that was also 
 15
 
 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 there to bar the wind and dust. " Balek," lie called 
 at the top of his voice to the khidmatgar, and an 
 echo of a voice was heard above the howling of the 
 wind : 
 
 " Your honor ? " 
 
 " Is breakfast ready ? " 
 
 " I have brought it, your honor," and the Bishop 
 stepped back, dropping the canvas and closing the 
 door, and sat down with a confused swavinar of blood 
 
 b O 
 
 in his head. 
 
 " His answer is nearly the first llindoostanee word 
 I learned. You know AVelton, that old white-haired 
 saint? I heard him call for his breakfast one day, 
 and the answer was, as usual, 'Liya' that is, 'I have 
 brought it.' 
 
 " ' Liar,' said Welton, laughing ; ' of course you need 
 not tell me that. I am reminded of the fact about 
 fifty times a day.' 
 
 "He explained then that ' liya,' which sounded very 
 much like 'liar,' meaning 'it is brought,' is the 
 politest possible answer a servant can give when you 
 call for anything, and politeness in their idea of faith 
 ful service always comes before truthfulness. He 
 said he never heard it without being tempted to give 
 them the word in return that sounded the nearest 
 like it." 
 
 Then they waited and waited, and finally, faint and 
 half exhausted and patience all gone, Balek came, 
 bringing the usual dish of cracked wheat and jug of 
 milk, the milk a trifle sour. 
 
 " Why is this milk sour ( " 
 
 " I do not know, your honor." 
 
 " Did von boil it ? "
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CARES. 207 
 
 "Yes, your honor, but the day is very warm. Per 
 haps this is the reason." 
 
 " If that were the reason it would be sour every 
 day. No, Balek," Mrs. Clinton added, " you are tak 
 ing bad milk, and keeping the money which I give 
 you for good milk for yourself. But you will get no 
 pay for it when it is sour." 
 
 " As it pleases your honor." 
 
 " No, it is not as it pleases me. I do not do it be 
 cause it pleases me, but because we cannot starve, and 
 we cannot use such milk as this." 
 
 While they were eating the cracked wheat with 
 sugar alone Balek brought the red pottery surahi, or 
 bottle, with drinking-water, and poured it out into the 
 glasses 'with a gurgle that sounded cool, though it was 
 not. 
 
 Taking up the glass to drink, the Bishop stopped 
 short of putting it to his lips. 
 
 " Balek, what does this mean \ " he said, sternly. 
 u Look now, look well. Do you wish us all to die?" 
 
 Balek took it with apparent surprise and held it up 
 to the dim light from the glass in the door. Even his 
 face fell a little, for there were twenty or more of the 
 larvae of the mosquito wriggling around in the water. 
 Mrs. Clinton then examined her glass with the same 
 result. 
 
 " Have I not told you over and over again to look 
 sharply after the filter ? Was this water boiled ? " 
 
 " Yes, your honor, with my own hands." 
 
 " Did you put new charcoal in the filter ? " 
 
 " Yesterday I did, Mem Sahib." 
 
 " Did I not tell you that you must bring me two pice 
 every time I found anything in the water like this ? "
 
 208 THE BISHOP'S CO.NVI.KSIOX. 
 
 " Yes, your honor," sullenly. 
 
 "Well, you are disobeying constantly, and I can 
 overlook some things ; but when you, by carelessness, 
 endanger our lives, what can I do? I must punish 
 you in some way ; therefore you may go and get two 
 pice and give them to me." 
 
 Balek stood silent and sullen a moment, then said : 
 "No, Mem Sahib, I won't-do-it ;" the last three words 
 pronounced as one. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton, without looking at her husband, rose 
 and picked up his light bamboo cane which stood by 
 his hat and umbrella, and quietly gave the man a tap 
 on his bare calf with it. 
 
 "Now will you go ?" she asked, quietly, but firmly. 
 
 " Yes, Mem Sahib, I will," and he fled. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton looked up at her husband, who was 
 regarding her with a gaze she could feel before she 
 encountered it. 
 
 "'I am acting on your suggestion that they should 
 be treated like children," she said, with a demure 
 smile, even though her face was flushed. " I never 
 allowed a child to disobey me, and it had to be dealt 
 with at once." 
 
 "Yes," doubtfully; "still, if told by the servants, 
 it would have a strange sound to people, especially at 
 home." 
 
 " I know, but I have temporized too long with these 
 men. Many women tell me they sc-okl and storm, and 
 in that way make them obey, but I cannot and will 
 not do that, so I must do what I can do, even if it 
 means using a stick now and then." 
 
 The Bishop sighed. It was all true. He had seen 
 gentlewomen get into a perfect rage and excuse it by
 
 CAKES. *Jt l .) 
 
 saving it was the only way they could get anything 
 clone, and most women in India had fallen into at 
 least a garrulous tone when expostulating with them. 
 It was to be deplored, but the Bishop thought, in the 
 language of the people, " Kya karega " " What can 
 you do ? " 
 
 Balek returned quickly with the pice, and was most 
 assiduous and deft-handed in his attention. 
 
 But after prayers he presented himself to the Bishop 
 in his study and said: 
 
 " I will go. I not stay. It was never known that 
 the Mem Sahib beat me. The Sahib will always, if he 
 please, beat, but not the Mem Sahib." 
 
 " Does the Mem Sahib ever give you trouble if you 
 do your work? Is she not always kind to you ? " 
 
 " Much, Sahib, much/' 
 
 " Very well, you may stay or go ; but if you give 
 her trouble she shall beat you when she likes." 
 
 He did stay, and there was a general brightening 
 up and coming to time all around. The cook was told 
 the same was in store for him if he did not have 
 breakfast and dinner at the appointed hour. And 
 that was the last and only time Mrs. Clinton was 
 obliged to punish a man other than by a few pice cut 
 from his wages now and then ; but she never told 
 Mrs. Mackenzie how she conquered her unruly house 
 hold. 
 
 This does not mean that it ended the cook's at 
 tempts to take double the right prices from her. 
 How was she to know just how many annas a fowl 
 ought to cost, whether live or ten, and she could not 
 dispute the price of beef when she was not quite sure 
 M'hat was the right price. The sort of continual strug-
 
 210 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 gle that is involved in trying to pay the correct value 
 of the daily purchases for the table is, to a conscien 
 tious person of limited income, nothing short of mad 
 dening. Purchases of fruit, vegetables, and meat must 
 be made each day, and as these prices vary with the 
 season, and still more according to the income and so 
 cial position of the consumers, it is impossible not to 
 be cheated a certain amount each day. And when a 
 new Mem Sahib comes to the place all in the bazar 
 conspire to keep her from knowing the correct 
 prices. 
 
 The person living in the house immediately pre 
 ceding her may have had a large income or have been 
 regardless of expenditure. Very well ; the incoming 
 Mem Sahib is expected to pay the same prices, even 
 though, having a large family and a small income, she 
 may try to pay just the right price and no more. She 
 finds herself avoided, and she feels it in the air that 
 she is regarded with dislike and aversion by all the 
 men who come to bring her bread and milk, meat 
 and fruit, by her servants and all she has to do with. 
 Perhaps, if she persists long enough in a straightfor 
 ward, kind, consistent way, she may after a while in 
 spire confidence, and they may come to understand 
 that she is just and will not take advantage of them, 
 and this they really prefer to a large profit one day 
 and a beating down and loss another. 
 
 It was annoying, bewildering, and harassing to Mrs. 
 Clinton, who especially wished to bring her expendi 
 ture within a certain limit, and each day she felt that 
 some way, with all her care and anxiety, she was going 
 beyond the line. Each day she knew, in spite of all 
 her efforts, the food on the table was not what it
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CAKKS. 211 
 
 ought to be, and each night she went to bed with the 
 unsatisfied feeling that the day had been, in some 
 sense, a failure. 
 
 The most harassing thing of all was the knowledge 
 that they were not always getting food that was 
 wholesome or even safe to eat. First, there was the 
 milk. It was even if not sour thin, watery, blue, 
 and smelled of smoke from a fire built of cow ma 
 nure, and there was always a sediment of sand at the 
 bottom of the cup. Lucknow was a noted place for 
 enteric fever, and the fever commission appointed to 
 investigate the cause had decided that infection was 
 communicated through cows being badly fed ; at any 
 rate, through milk. So she insisted on the cow being- 
 brought to the door that she might have it milked be 
 fore her into one of her own clean copper cooking 
 vessels. The milk was better then, but if she were 
 not there to see each morning, and watching sharply, 
 she could not be sure the man would not add old milk 
 which he brought in a bottle concealed in his clothes. 
 Then the x?ook found her a cow he wished her to buy. 
 and said he would look after it himself, and it could 
 then be no trouble to her. This would be better. 
 She could then be sure it was fed with good grass and 
 other necessary food, and she could see the Bishop 
 drink a glass of unboiled milk without shuddering, 
 for though he had been persistently warned that it 
 was unsafe to drink uncooked milk, yet he could not 
 drink it after cooking, and he had always had a glass 
 of milk in the morning. 
 
 So the cow was bought, costing five rupees for 
 every seer of milk it was warranted to give a day. 
 The man who sold it said it would give eight seers, or
 
 212 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 quarts, a day. This was so unusually large a yield 
 that she did not wholly credit it, but paid him only 
 for five seers a day that is, twenty-five rupees ; but she 
 found after two weeks' trial that it gave two quarts in 
 the morning and two quarts in the evening, and she 
 then knew she had paid five rupees too much. 
 
 Having the cow allowed her to have the butter 
 made at home, and lessened one anxiety and trouble. 
 At least she thought it would, for the man had only 
 to boil the milk, set it, skim the cream off the next 
 morning, and, putting it in a large glass bottle, shake 
 it until the butter came. This was done every morn 
 ing before she was up. 
 
 But while their chances of infection were lessened, 
 and while the number of men coming to the house 
 to be dealt with was lessened by two, imagine her sur 
 prise to find a strange man milking the cow. 
 
 " Who is he ? " she asked of the cook. 
 
 " This man ? O, he is the man who cares for the 
 cow, gives her food and water and grass." 
 
 " But who pays him ? " 
 
 " Your honor, when he has done your honor's work 
 your honor will of a surety pay him." 
 
 " But who employed him ? " 
 
 "Your slave. Your honor told me to make ar 
 rangement for cow ; I have done so." 
 
 " Why do you not feed her and milk her ( 1 can 
 not afford this nonsense. There is plenty of grass 
 here, and she needs no care except her food in the 
 morning." And her tones were sharp and her brow 
 contracted. 
 
 "I, Mem Sahib?" in shocked surprise. "'You are 
 my mother and father, and hence I could not refuse
 
 HursKKKKPING C.\KKS. 213 
 
 to do jour commands ; but it is nut custom to cooks, 
 and thej never, never do it." 
 
 "' There are the two men for the house ; surelj they 
 can do it ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mem Sahib," doubtfully. 
 
 " Call them at once." 
 
 "' Protector of the poor, the grass-cutter has gone to 
 the jungle to cut grass, and the other man has gone 
 with the Bissip Sahib to the bazar. Always at time 
 of taking milk the grass-cut has gone to jungle, and 
 many times the driver gone with Bissip Sahib or Mem 
 Sahib, and they not do it; it not. the custom." 
 
 " But the bihisti, he has goats and he milks them 
 and feeds them. "Why can he not do it ? " 
 
 " He knows goats, he not know cow, and he not do 
 it ; -it is not the custom," 
 
 " The sweeper, then ? " doubtfully. 
 
 u Mem Sahib, no one drink milk that sweeper bring. 
 I not cook with it," was the answer, with indignant 
 emphasis. 
 
 Exhausted and angry she turned to go into the 
 house. It was useless to beat her head against the 
 solid wall of caste and custom. Turning back she 
 asked impatiently what such a man must be paid, and 
 was told four rupees, or a dollar and sixty cents, per 
 month. 
 
 She went in and sat down in indignation. She 
 thought of Bridget a-nd Tom, and she would in that 
 moment of unsanctih'ed wrath and disgust and ex 
 haustion have been glad to have sent all the white- 
 robed, soft-voiced, barefooted servants into their 
 mother Ganges could she have seen Bridget's hon 
 est face about her house.
 
 214 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 Another source of possible infection and certain 
 trouble Mrs. Clinton found in the meat supply. 
 During the cold weather beef, mutton, fowls, and fish 
 were to be had ; in the hot weather only mutton and 
 fowls. The fowls were bazar-fed, and that means fed 
 on anything refuse or nothing, varied by a little good 
 food now and then and were naturally very thin 
 and scraggy. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton felt tempted to try to keep fowls, but 
 fearing another man would he required she contented 
 herself by buying a dozen or two small ones and pay 
 ing for grain to feed them. But many of them dis 
 appeared, " eaten by jackals." the cook said, and so 
 she found it rather expensive. 
 
 Then, even in the season for them, it was difficult to 
 get good beef and good fish and good mutton. She 
 found them nearly always poor, until it was suggested 
 to her by Miss Whitlow that perhaps she was getting 
 goat meat instead of mutton. Then she insisted on 
 seeing the mutton every day before it was cooked. 
 The cook looked injured and innocent, but the next 
 morning brought the mutton wala up on the veranda, 
 asked the Mem Sahib to come out and see the quarter 
 of mutton in the man's own hand, and to also see the 
 foot which had wool on it, and be convinced and doubt 
 his honesty no more. The mutton wala also looked 
 eager to prove his good intentions and immunity from 
 such a culpable thing as selling goat meat for mutton. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton was ashamed. " How could these 
 men ever be honest if they were continually and un 
 justly being suspected of such sly, underhand tricks? 
 and for her part she was done with it;" and she lifted 
 the foot of the sheep which was dangling by a ligament.
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CARES. 215 
 
 All, why did it come off so suddenly in her hand '. 
 Looking inquiringly into the face of the cook she saw 
 the most shamefaced, the most guilty, the most hu 
 miliated man she had ever seen, and the mutton wala's 
 face was a duplicate of it but less intense. He was 
 not the Mem Sahib's servant, and could not be dis 
 missed. 
 
 Not knowing what else to do, Nabi Bux picked up 
 the foot, and looked at it helplessly. Mrs. Clinton 
 took it from him and examined it. The end of the 
 ligament was covered with glue. 
 
 " Plow many legs of goats has this been stuck on to 
 deceive honest people, Nabi Bux ? " 
 
 He hung his head, in silent shame, and after a mo 
 ment the cook and butcher both vanished around the 
 corner of the house. 
 
 There seemed an attempt to do less of a business for 
 himself on the part of Nabi Bux for a few days, and 
 Mrs. Clinton thought perhaps this little episode might 
 have had a permanent effect; but one thing was cer 
 tain, she was paying for more eggs than were eaten, 
 though with cheerful alacrity the cook would, when 
 asked, give a strict account of each one, and in such 
 a way that she was convinced in spite of her unbelief. 
 But one morning when he had brought his purchases 
 in to show her as usual lie returned for something 
 forgotten at the cookhouse, and while he was gone 
 she took out her pencil and quickly made slight marks 
 on the white surface of the dozen eggs before her. 
 Three days after eight of that dozen were returned 
 with four fresh ones when the cooly brought the 
 market-basket with the cook's morning purchases. 
 
 The marks were very slight, but she slowly and
 
 216 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 gravely picked out the eight and put them before him 
 and looked him straight in the eye. 
 
 " There," said she, " I have paid you once for 
 these." 
 
 Astonished and injured lie said, " What, Mem 
 Sahib ? " 
 
 "You heard what I said. Now, remember, let this 
 be the last time you do so contemptible an act as this. 
 I have ways of telling some things that you do not 
 know, and it will be necessary for you to be more 
 honest." 
 
 Nabi Bux feit sad. This new Mem Sahib was very 
 troublesome. A good Mussulman may cheat ; but a 
 good one is never found out ; hence his sad and de 
 pressed countenance for the next few days. 
 
 These are only examples of the processes of the 
 native servant. Each one has his own department, 
 and each one knows exactly the best way to elude the 
 vigilance of his mistress and cheat her out of enough 
 to make a useful addition to his wages. The grass- 
 cut puts stones and sticks in the bundle of grass he 
 brings to make it weigh up to the full amount, the 
 other man for the horse steals the grain with which 
 he ought to feed the horse, and feeds his children. 
 He breaks the harness and says he paid double the 
 amount for having it mended that he really did ; he 
 declares he has used all the oil for the carriage, and 
 you give him money to buy more, which he pockets 
 and shows you the oil you bought a month before as 
 a recent purchase. The water-carrier breaks the rope 
 at the well, mends it himself, and tells you he got a 
 man from the bazar, who charges eight annas, which 
 you pay. The "kit" gets stale bread and sour milk
 
 HOUSEKEEPING CAKK>. 217 
 
 cheap; you pay for good, and lie pockets the differ 
 ence. The cook has his regular percentage, often 
 irregularly large, and the ayuh and sweeper have their 
 own individual sources of revenue, otherwise "per 
 quisites,"" and the mistress lives in a continual war 
 fare. The most that women with other work than 
 housekeeping can do is to restrain this stealing, and 
 the most that women who give their whole time to 
 housekeeping can do is to restrain it a little more, but 
 both have the consciousness of dealing with forces 
 that will inevitablv conouer.
 
 218 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE M A H A B I R M K L A. 
 
 hot winds wailed louder each day about the 
 _|_ corners of the house, the hours that one could re 
 main outdoors during the middle of the day gre\v 
 less, and yet the mission work went on with a steady 
 swing. There was a busy hum in many schoolrooms 
 where boys and girls who would form the future 
 Church were learning to live ; there was a noise of 
 printing presses turning out books and papers filled 
 with words that were to be life to a dying people ; 
 there were, each day, many doors in zenanas opened 
 to receive gladly welcomed visitors who taught the 
 love of Christ ; there were faces of preachers, both 
 white and dark, seen in and out of the business streets 
 as they pursued their calling; there were voices daily 
 lifted in the market places and wherever a group of 
 people stood, preaching the forgiveness of sins and 
 judgment to come. 
 
 The plan for each department of work was com 
 plete and independent in itself, but all plans united, 
 articulated, and formed a strong power, imperceptible 
 to many, perhaps, but none the less strong for that, in 
 its onward sweep. And this busy working force and 
 effects were repeated and duplicated in every town of 
 importance in India; in some places with much 
 greater and in others with less success.
 
 THE MAHAUIU MELA. 219 
 
 One morning a few weeks after the death of Shew 
 Pershad there was an unusual stir in the mission 
 houses consequent on the breaking of the steady 
 routine of work. The garis were ready at an early 
 hour, and, tilled with missionaries, with Bible readers, 
 and with some of the older boys of the school, all 
 well provided with Bibles, hymn books, illustrated pa 
 pers and leaflets, were proceeding at dawn out of 
 Lucknow to a village in the suburban jungle. The 
 large mission tent had been sent the night before, 
 and was pitched near the temple of Hanuman, the 
 center of attraction which was drawing people here 
 for the annual religious festival. 
 
 The Bishop and Mrs. Clinton were not far behind 
 the othe'r missionaries, for since the hot weather had 
 come on they made a practice of rising at four, as this 
 was the custom in the mission. It will not do to say 
 the Bishop always found this agreeable, or to say that 
 after a night, sleepless because of heat, mosquitoes, 
 sleepy punkah coolies, fleas, and so forth, he did not 
 think it would be better to temper zeal with wisdom 
 and remain in bed until a reasonable hour. Never 
 before had he risen before six or seven, and yet he 
 had been counted as an uncommonly hard-working 
 and energetic man. 
 
 As they drove slowly down the long road they 
 saw the pilgrims of various kinds proceeding by the 
 fair by many different ways ; but those who expected 
 to receive much benefit from a pilgrimage on this 
 day, or had to fulfill vows, were dragging themselves 
 along on the ground. 
 
 It was not a pleasant thing to see these dark, nearly 
 naked bodies measuring themselves on the white sand.
 
 220 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 marking a place ahead of them as far as they could 
 reach, drawing up their bodies and placing their feet 
 at the mark, and then stretching out again like huge 
 measuring worms. Some were fresh and untired ; 
 having evidently just joined the pilgrims. These 
 looked about at the passers-by with an air that said : 
 " Do you see how devout lam ? Surely you must be 
 lieve there will be a great reward for such a one as I." 
 Others appeared weary, exhausted, and their eyes 
 were full of pain, whether mental or physical Mrs. 
 Clinton wished she knew. Certainly their devotion 
 was bringing them anything but peace. 
 
 "Perhaps," said Mrs. Clinton, " it is the sin they 
 are trying to expiate that gives them this agonized 
 expression." 
 
 " Hardly," answered her husband ; " I fancy it is 
 entirely physical. They must be in great pain from 
 the unaccustomed strain on their muscles 'after trav 
 eling in this way for days with little food or water, 
 as some of them do." 
 
 A little farther on they came to a man who lay on 
 the ground with his arm outstretched to measure a 
 new length, overcome with either exhaustion and 
 faintness or with sleep, it was difficult to tell which, 
 as his whole body, as well as his face, was covered with 
 dust and clay. The others were so busy in crawling 
 that they had no time to stop for this one of their 
 number that had fainted by the way. They only 
 turned their heads at the strange spectacle of a Bara 
 Sahib noticing a fakir. 
 
 A pundit who was passing stopped by the man 
 and said in English, salaaming. to the Bishop as he 
 :=poke :
 
 THE MAHABIR MKLA. 221 
 
 " This man, is he dead ( " 
 
 "No, I think he is only fainting," answered the 
 Bishop. " What can we do for him ? " 
 
 " Not anything, Padri Sahib. It is this way that 
 they want nothing done." 
 
 " But give liiin some water at least. I am sure he 
 is fainting." 
 
 " No, Sahib, I not do this thing ; behold this," and 
 lie pointed to a dirty string extending around the pros 
 trate body and up over one shoulder. " He is Brah 
 man and I am not Brahman." 
 
 " Then call a water-carrier, or some one who is a 
 Brahman," he answered sternly, hoping to see a bihisti 
 with a bag of water as he looked about. 
 
 " There is no one," said the pundit ; " and he would 
 die before he would take it from me." 
 
 " This is a dreadful religion," the Bishop said, hotly ; 
 " horrible ! How can you believe a creed that makes 
 you so cruel and indifferent to each other's suffer 
 ings? " 
 
 The pundit lifted his shoulders, and with the com 
 mon gesture of the land, a putting out of both hands, 
 turning the palms outward, which is Hindoostanee for 
 ''What can I do?" That is, "It is the custom, and 
 how can I, oidy an atom, put myself in opposition to 
 a custom which is as old as the hills themselves, and 
 almost as firm ? " 
 
 " But how is it that you who have read and studied 
 can continue to hold to an absurd thing like this ? 
 You know that this poor fellow will gain nothing but 
 suffering and perhaps death, and that there could really 
 be no harm in his taking water from your hand ; 
 
 that it is all a lie and based on a lie." 
 16
 
 "2'2'2 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " Yes, sir," the pundit answered, with a troubled 
 countenance. 
 
 "The religion of Christ" and here the Bishop's 
 voice grew reverent " teaches the high to serve the 
 low. He said, '"Whosoever will be great, let him be 
 a minister,' that is, let him be a helper ; ' and if any 
 would be greatest of all. let him serve.' " 
 
 " Very good word, Padri Sahib ; I know the words 
 of Christ ; they are true and good." 
 
 " And you really believe them ? " asked the Bishop, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, I believe them, Padri Sahib," he said, pro 
 visionally ; "they are good words, very good w<>rd> 
 for you." 
 
 "But if they are true are they not good words for 
 all? If they are true other religions cannot be true," 
 said the Bishop. 
 
 " They are very good words. T know them all, I 
 read them when nothing to do, but they are for the 
 Sahib log. My religion is better for me." 
 
 "And do you mean to say that if you were faint 
 ing and dying it would be right for a Brah mail not to 
 give you water? " 
 
 " Why not? It is the custom." 
 
 "And would you die rather than take water from a 
 person of no caste a sweeper ( " 
 
 "Certainly, yes why not er unless I had many 
 rupees, and I could buy my caste back again." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton was getting impatient for something 
 to be done for the man. People as they passed gazed 
 curiously at the tall form of the Bishop, at the pundit, 
 nnd at the prostrate fakir whose pilgrimage seemed 
 so nearly at an end. As the Bishop turned in per-
 
 THE MAHABIR MELA. 223 
 
 plexity he asked another man who had half halted 
 and said "Good morn," to display his English, 
 
 *' What can we do for this creature ? " 
 
 " God knows." 
 
 " Shall we leave him here to die ? " 
 
 " Jf it be God's will. Where could he die better ? 
 lie would be sure of eternal life dying while in so 
 noble pilgrimage." 
 
 The Bishop got into his gari blazing with indig 
 nation, but with a sad heart. 
 
 "Never, never did I before realize what a degraded 
 thing human nature is without Christ. He is the 
 only teacher who has ever taught humanity to really 
 feel for others," he said to his wife. 
 
 They were now leaving the main road, which was 
 hard and smooth, and the horse went slowly and 
 heavily in the white sand which had been loosened 
 by the feet of hundreds of pilgrims already at their 
 destination. The road each side was lined thicker 
 and thicker with dusty crawling humanity, and others 
 who were walking or riding in gayly draped carts 
 with fat white bullocks, or in natty ekkas likewise 
 drawn by ponies decorated by great necklaces of tur 
 quoises. All were in their best clothes, the women 
 in red or purple or blue chuddars, with bright-colored 
 skirts, the men in gold-embroidered caps and soft 
 white muslin clothes. 
 
 There were many family groups of father, mother, 
 and children, with brothers and sisters and their 
 children, cooking their morning meals; for though 
 the mela was local, still many had come from many 
 miles the other side of Lucknow the night before, and 
 were now settled and grouped as though for an artist.
 
 224 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 Near them the bullock curt with its wide, thick, 
 heavy, unpolished wheels, its scarlet and white cov 
 ering, the luxurious-looking pearl-white, gentle-eyed 
 bollocks standing near the women in their gay clothes 
 at work pounding the golden huldi for curries or 
 scouring their bright brass vase-shaped cooking ves 
 sels, making them so bright they mirrored the colors 
 about them, and the fires, with the bine smoke rising, 
 all formed another of the picturesque bits that Mrs. 
 Clinton could never forget. 
 
 Later on, when the sun was well up, blazing down 
 on the surging, moving mass, exaggerating the color 
 so that it dazzled the eyes, she came upon a group of 
 mission workers under a tamarind tree, though even 
 there it was hot enough to make her head feel dull 
 and heavy. In the center of a group of women was 
 Miss Lowe, and near her one or two Bible women. 
 As Mrs. Clinton stopped before them they finished 
 singing the hymn, 
 
 "Uth Musaflr kar taij'ari ab to kuch din nahiii hai." 
 
 When it was finished Miss Lowe, in her sweet, soft 
 voice, began talking of the hymn. The women had 
 liked the hymn, and they listened with interest to the 
 explanations and the comments, especially when she 
 said : 
 
 "We are, as the hymn says, all travelers, and our 
 days are nearly spent. Soon the sun will go down 
 and the night of death will come on, and how dire will 
 be our extremity if we have made no preparation ! 
 and, poor mortals % that we are, what preparation for 
 that dark hour can Ave make ?"* 
 
 "Xone, none," said the women, shaking their heads.
 
 THK MAIIA.BIK MKI.A. 
 
 "But there is One \vlio lr.:s made preparation for us. 
 Christ has done it all, and in his kingdom all will be 
 
 * o 
 
 saved who believe on him/' 
 
 " Is this true, Miss Sahib ? " asked one woman in 
 plain white clothing, who had kept in the background 
 " true for all widows also ? " 
 
 ' Yes ; in God's sight all are equal. lie looks not 
 at the body or at the condition, but only at the heart. 
 A woman's soul, even if she be a widow, is the same 
 as a man's, and if she believe and obey and the man 
 does not believe and obey, then she will be saved, 
 while he will be lost and punished/' 
 
 " And are women, then, in your heaven not pun 
 ished for the death of their husbands ? " 
 
 " Xo, O, no. God is just, and would not punish a 
 poor, woman for what she was not responsible." 
 
 " Ah, wonderful and sweet, and my heart tells me 
 it is true ! " 
 
 "But," said another, the well-dressed, happy 
 mother of sons, drawing up her golden-embroidered 
 chuddar impatiently, " surely there can be no place 
 where widows are equal with wives { How can that 
 he?" 
 
 " Wheiv," murmured the widow, "can I lind him \ 
 lias he a temple here, that I may worship him?" 
 
 Then Miss Lowe began with the story of the wise 
 men journeying until they found the Babe in the 
 manger, and while she talked others came and joined 
 the group until she was surrounded by as many as could 
 get within the sound of her voice, all listening, eager- 
 eyed and silent. Xow and then a man passing saw 
 the mission log and stopped to listen. 
 
 Finally, when she had finished, the women making
 
 226 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION'. 
 
 comments as they rattled their bangles and toe-rings ami 
 rearranged their chuddars, one of the men, a Hindoo 
 in the finest of embroidered muslin and a gold-embroid 
 ered cap, with a handsome, clever face, stepped for 
 ward a little and said, 
 
 " Miss Saliiba, this is not true." 
 
 It was said respectfully and quietly, but firmly. 
 
 " O, yes," she said, with equal quietness, "it is true." 
 
 " No, Miss Sahiba, I have known many Europeans, 
 and not one have I known that was not sinful, many of 
 them very sinful, doing things of which even a poor 
 Hindoo " and there was an indescribably proud tone 
 as he pronounced these words " even a poor Hindoo 
 would be incapable, and not one have I known that 
 was saved from sin. If this story of Christ were true 
 would not all who believed it hasten to be saved from 
 the bondage of sin ? When you can show me one, 
 only one, who is freed from this curse, I will believe ; 
 until then do not preach." 
 
 Miss Lowe's face looked sad, and her large dark 
 eyes were more pathetic than ever, and her lips 
 quivered. 
 
 How true this was, how sadly true, of herself among 
 the rest ! But as she hesitated Elizabeth Uma, the 
 eldest of the Bible women, stepped a little forward in 
 her majestic way. 
 
 "Ah," she said, "if we were preaching ourselves 
 then you would do well to say you would not believe 
 until one perfect preached to you ; but we preach 
 Christ, who was perfect, and on him, because he was 
 perfect, you can believe. We are poor weak crea 
 tures, full of faults and ever stumbling and falling, 
 and if it were in our o\vn merits we ask vou to be-
 
 THE MAHAHIK MKLA. 227 
 
 lieve, then you might challenge us, but we challenge 
 you to find one single thing wrong or imperfect in the 
 life of Christ. If you do find it, then continue to wor 
 ship your gods that are blind and deaf and dumb; if 
 not, then accept him who was called Jesus, because he 
 can and will save his people from their sins. 7 ' 
 
 " These are wise words," said Pnran Mul, for this was 
 his name, while a shadow fell on his face, a shadow cast 
 by ages of darkness and superstition, and he salaamed 
 and went his way, still thinking of the wise words of 
 Elizabeth, thinking that they might be true and all this 
 mummery of worship to his gods would then be noth 
 ing, as he had often suspected. Ah ! if only there might 
 be a sure and perfect provision in this life against 
 which all the terrors of Yama would be as the laugh 
 ter, of a child, then indeed would life be robbed of 
 its sting, and instead of grim despair ruling his heart 
 there might be sweet rest. What would he not sac 
 rifice for rest from the capricious power of the mis 
 chievous gods that could be relied upon only to do 
 their worst for man ? 
 
 With this still in his mind he found himself in a 
 group of men who were listening to a tall, fine-looking 
 man speaking in English, which was translated by an 
 other tall man with fair hair and beard, who spoke his 
 language with an accent that attracted him at once. 
 
 There were many young men listening in order to 
 improve their English, and the majority of those 
 standing about were intelligent and of the better class 
 of clerks and students, though some were of the peas 
 ant or field laborer caste. 
 
 Puran Mul glided in amo )g them and came upon 
 his brother and some friends.
 
 228 THK BISHOP'S CONVKKSIOX. 
 
 " Who are these sahibs, and of what are they talk- 
 ing?" he asked. 
 
 " Hush, it is the high priest of the Christians and 
 the new master at the Christian College. See what 
 fine big men they are quite devils in size." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but of what are they talking ? " 
 
 " Listen with your ears : mine are my own." 
 
 And Puran Mill listened only to find it was the 
 same wonderful story he had just been hearing, " The 
 forgiveness of sin through repentance and a life of 
 faith on Jesus Christ, who was the atonement. Xo 
 expiation by the sinner possible, no cleansing of vile 
 hearts by washing in sacred rivers, neither by labo 
 rious pilgrimages nor by cutting the flesh ; nothing at 
 all gained by works ; Christ had once for all made the 
 only expiation possible." 
 
 When the speaker finished some young men from 
 the college sang a hymn, the burden of which was 
 that Christ was a wonderful Saviour, and through him 
 all gloom and terror were dispersed because his was 
 a heart full of love. 
 
 Then Carnton asked in his clear, kindly voice if any 
 there accepted this as the truth and would be bap 
 tized into the faith and ever afterward be known as 
 Christ's disciples. 
 
 " Come," said Puran Mul to his brother, "come; 
 my heart speaks strongly and tells me that all this is 
 true and that it is for us." 
 
 " Are you mad ? " cried his brother. " What will 
 you do but bring disgrace on us all ?" for they were 
 of a good caste. " Those sahibs practice witchcraft ; 
 I have often heard of men falling under the power of 
 their words and beino; mad ever afterward."
 
 THK MAHAMIU MKI.A. 229 
 
 " Xonsense ; it is only the ignorant chatter of the 
 bazar. You and I, who have read and studied, should 
 know better. We can judge of a thing for ourselves 
 whether it be true or false" shaking himself loose 
 from his brothers detaining hand '' and I can find 
 rest in these words and in the worship of a God who 
 is pure and true and all-powerful." 
 
 He moved forward with a dozen others to the tent 
 where Carnton, with the Bishop beside him, drew 
 them for quiet conversation. A number had been 
 pondering the matter for years, having got their first 
 knowledge of Christ from leaflets scattered by un 
 known hands. To others it was new, but to nearly 
 all it had come home to their hearts with a force not 
 alone of the speaker and his words, but of the Spirit 
 which teaches all men when they ' ; will to know of 
 t!ie doctrine." 
 
 And when he put the final searching question, " Do 
 you believe, and will you renounce all your idols, give 
 np all your sins and all worldly prospects, if need be, 
 and cling to Christ, being baptized as a sign and seal 
 of your belief '. " there was a ready response from ten, 
 Puran Mul among the first, notwithstanding the per- 
 >istvnt protest of his brother and friends who stood 
 back of him, hoping still to dissuade him. 
 
 The simple but impressive ceremony of bapti>:n 
 was soon performed and the names and addresses of 
 the men recorded. They were told in return the 
 names of the native preacher or missionary nearest to 
 them, and arrangements were made for future meet 
 ings and books and papers for their instruction. 
 
 It was well into the afternoon when the mission 
 aries with their assistants, English, Eurasian, and
 
 232 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 ceremony, but they were liking him better than at 
 first. He was less self-assertive with his preconceived 
 ideas and notions ; he was amenable to reason ; he 
 wore a cork hat and carried a white-covered umbrella ; 
 he had given up inviting sunstroke by reckless walks 
 in the sun, and, more than all else, actually had the 
 good of the work at heart, and helped in any way and 
 every way possible. 
 
 " Then," said the Bishop, in answer to Mackenzie's 
 remark, "I would suggest putting on an 'extra' or 
 two, and let there be less hurry. The best work can 
 never be done in a hurry." 
 
 " Send along your extras, and we will be only too 
 glad to use them. There is not a mission station 
 where one more man, and in some places three more 
 men, are not needed to prevent dangerous risks dan 
 gerous, I assure you, not only to the health of the 
 workers, but to the best interests of the work. But 
 let us go out ; it is not so hot now, and I want you to 
 see the whole of this religious festival ; for when you 
 have seen this you will have a very good idea of 
 others which are held here and there all over India, 
 and in which much evangelical work is done. The 
 native people look forward all the year to them, for 
 various reasons : the women chiefly because it gives 
 them a chance for change and amusement; the men 
 the same, and because they can make bargains, arrange 
 marriages and fulfill vows, and enter into negotiations 
 with their gods for children and for prosperity in. 
 business. Here is the temple, and if we stand here 
 on the upper veranda of this empty house we can 
 cover the whole ground." 
 
 As they mounted the stairs a stream of people was
 
 232 TIIK BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 ceremony, but they were liking him better than at 
 first. He was less self-assertive witli his preconceived 
 ideas and notions ; he was amenable to reason ; he 
 wore a cork hat and carried a white-covered umbrella ; 
 he had given up inviting sunstroke by reckless walks 
 in the sun, and, more than all else, actually had the 
 good of the work at heart, and helped in any way and 
 every way possible. 
 
 " Then," said the Bishop, in answer to Mackenzie's 
 remark, "I would suggest putting on an 'extra' or 
 two, and let there be less hurry. The best work can 
 never be done in a hurry." 
 
 " Send along your extras, and we will be only too 
 glad to use them. There is not a mission station 
 where one more man, and in some places three more 
 men, are not needed to prevent dangerous risks dan 
 gerous, I assure you, not only to the health of the 
 workers, but to the best interests of the work. But 
 let us go out ; it is not so hot now, and I want you to 
 see the whole of this religious festival; for when you 
 have seen this you will have a very good idea of 
 others which are held here and there all over India, 
 and in which much evangelical work is done. The 
 native people look forward all the year to them, for 
 various reasons : the women chiefly because it gives 
 them a chance for change and amusement; the men 
 the same, and because they can make bargains, arrange 
 marriages and fulfill vows, and enter into negotiations 
 with their gods for children and for prosperity in 
 business. Here is the temple, and if we stand here 
 on the upper veranda of this empty house we can 
 cover the whole ground." 
 
 As they mounted the stairs a stream of people was
 
 THE MAHAIJIU MELA. 233 
 
 pouring toward the temple. Many with cups of Gan 
 ges water, brought by pilgrims and sold at a good 
 price, which they placed at the feet of the god ; others 
 with garlands of white, sweet-scented flowers which 
 they hung near or threw down before the hideous im 
 age; still others deposited money and grain. Over be 
 yond the temple were a group of fakirs, all with their 
 pilgrims' wooden bowls that served to receive money 
 or food, and from which they ate the only property 
 they had except a dirty cloth about their loins. Their 
 long, dirty hair hung in tangled masses down over 
 their shoulders, and their bodies were smeared with 
 mud. Some there were whose vocation was to lie 
 flat on their backs, never rising but twice a day for 
 food and water ; others with holes cut in their flesh 
 through which pieces of wood were thrust ; still others 
 in cramped and unnatural positions doing penance for 
 sins. Xear them were deformities of various kinds 
 which were here to be worshiped cows with five legs, 
 calves with two heads, a sheep with a double head, a 
 cat with a rabbit's stump tail, men without apparently 
 any bones in their bodies tying their legs and arms 
 in knots, and other grotesque creatures equally inter 
 esting to these strange, childish people. 
 
 Out away from the temple they could see the crowds 
 broken up by little eddies of people that were circling 
 around various centers. 
 
 " Here," said Mackenzie, pointing to one whirlpool, 
 " is a sort of Punch and Judy' show, only Punch is 
 a burlesque Englishman and Judy is a native servant ; 
 and not far from them is an English mission tent, 
 and over there is the tent of the ladies of our mission; 
 beyond them, the center of interest, is a merry-go-
 
 2-'U THK BISHOP'S 0<>.\\ KKSION. 
 
 round. At the left is another English mission, 
 and beyond them are the ladies of their mission at 
 work ; and here comes Rokewood, later, as usual, .than 
 necessary, for he has walked, sacrificing a third of the 
 day for the price of a gari." 
 
 "What a strange, strange scene!" mused the Bishop 
 " this huge kaleidoscope of color ; this sea of dark 
 faces with perhaps a dozen white ones among them ; 
 and in this dozen people the goodness, the truth, the 
 civilization and intelligence are centered the thou 
 sands of others do not together aggregate as much. 
 They remind one of swarms of gnats circling round 
 and round in a meaningless way ; and really what 
 does it all mean, this swarm of humanity left so long 
 without Christian civilization ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell. I myself feel almost overcome with 
 the portent of life, with the puzzle of humanity when 
 I see a huge beehive like this. It seems to be too 
 great for the mind to ponder, for it is only as a drop 
 in the ocean of uncivilized, un-Christianized humanity. 
 That these millions should be born, grow up, live, and 
 die with no more spiritual life than your gnats, pre 
 sents a greater problem than I can solve, or ever try 
 to solve. But look ! over there near where Miller is 
 preaching an Arya Somaj man is warning the people 
 not to leave their old customs, and not to dare come 
 within the sound of the voices of these Padri Sahibs 
 who are emissaries of the evil one that there is en 
 chantment in their words that brings evil on all who 
 listen ; not only on them, but on all they hold dear/' 
 
 " Yes," said the Bishop, " I saw one of them this 
 morning, near one of the other missionaries, trying to 
 counteract his words ; but what I was going to say is
 
 THE MAHABIK MELA. 
 
 tin's : while the task is so great, while the Immensity 
 of it strikes me to-day as never before, I have also 
 to-day seen more of the work I can especially com 
 mend than ever before. To-night one hundred men 
 will go to sleep with the name of God on their lips 
 who rose with that of Harmman, because you have 
 to-day gathered all your forces and for a time left 
 the plodding work of making books, of teaching 
 geography and the other machinery that takes your 
 time. What could be accomplished if you were all 
 to leave it altogether and fulfill our ideas of mission 
 work is almost more than I dare think when so 
 many have in so short a time been converted! " 
 
 " As / reckon time it has not been so very short ; 
 about thirty years would cover the time it has taken 
 to effect what we have seemed to do to-day. Thirty 
 years ago we had no schools, no printing-presses, no 
 native preachers, no Bible women, no zenana teachers, 
 no books or tracts or papers. Nowhere is it shown 
 to me plainer than in this very work that the organic 
 work of the mission must come first, and it is so evi 
 dent to me that I hardly know how to prove it to 
 you. The printing which you want to put aside is 
 responsible for some of the best of our converts to 
 day. One man from a remote village in the country, 
 for instance, was given the gospel of St. John, in 
 Urdu, fourteen years ago by an English official. He 
 has been reading it to his friends and pondering it for 
 years. Happening if we can say ' happen ' in regard 
 to these things on a visit to some friends who were 
 coming here, he came with them and was ready to 
 hear and understand the truth, which otherwise 
 probably he would have not comprehended, or would 
 17 "
 
 238 THE BISHOP'S CO.NVKKSION. 
 
 not have been interested in. lie will be well sup 
 plied with books and papers when lie returns, and in 
 six months from n<>w, when we can send a preacher, 
 probably the whole village will be baptized. Another, 
 a priest who found the gospel of Matthew in the road, 
 has been teaching his people the precepts of Christ 
 for years, and they have prayed the Lord's Prayer, 
 though they still kept up their idol worship in a 
 desultory way, because it was the blind leading the 
 blind. To-day he received the truth gladly, and there 
 will be another village soon that will all come over. 
 So much do I believe in the power of printed words for 
 these people that if I could I would fairly flood this 
 great empire with religious and moral books and 
 pa pel's. It is a transition period with the people, and 
 hence an impressionable one. They have begun to 
 read, and to counteract the works of such writers as 
 Zola, Ouida, or Ingcrsoll, and others equally pernicious 
 which are sold here cheap, we must have good and 
 attractive cheap books and papers, and plenty of 
 them ; and right here I want to say that if you will 
 endow the publishing work, even in a very small way, 
 you will do away with much of the commercial ilavor 
 that is about it, and to which you have objected/' 
 
 " There is one thing," said the Bishop, " that always 
 strikes me: whatever the subject in hand you people 
 generally get back to the point you start from more 
 money to enlarge a work that will still require more 
 money to keep it going.'' 
 
 "Of course; but when people are so poor as the 
 great mass of the people here, even though self-sup 
 port is taught and encouraged among them, it cannot 
 for years amount to much. What can a man who
 
 THE MAIIABIK MELA. 
 earns three dollars a month do toward building a 
 
 O 
 
 church after he has paid the living expenses of his 
 family '( n 
 
 " Surely not much. Consequently I do not see 
 \vhere the support is to come from when you have a 
 Church of ten times the present number." 
 
 " Chiefly from themselves, for as they grow in in 
 telligence they command higher wages. Some of the 
 older churches are not only supporting their pastor, 
 but supporting other work ; and then we are taking 
 more to native methods of work, and thus are cheap 
 ening it. But what I started on was to show you 
 that the organic work to which you object is the 
 backbone of the structure, and it would be a useless 
 affair without it, even if it would be in existence 
 enough to call it an affair. You would have to cut 
 out to-day all the Bibles, all the native preachers, all 
 the helpers that have been in schools, all the leaflets, 
 all the hymn books, all the illustrated papers, and you 
 would then have nothing, or next to nothing. What 
 could we do without a translation of the Bible from 
 which to read or quote? What could we do without 
 hymns translated and set to their own tunes, or sung 
 in ours? What could we alone, Carnton, Miller, and 
 I, and the lady missionaries, do without the Bible 
 women and native preachers and Eurasian assistants? 
 IIo\v could wo have had them but for the educational 
 work?" 
 
 "Of course, some of this is necessary, but you will 
 agree that it should not be put first ? *' 
 
 " I deny that we put it first. It in a way has to be 
 done before others, just as all the munitions of war 
 havQ to be made, and soldiers drilled, before victory
 
 238 THE BISHOP'S CONVEKSION. 
 
 can be achieved ; but no one would say that it was 
 considered more important, even though it must 
 come first ; and I will say this also : where in schools 
 the organic work becomes an end, as whenever more 
 is thought of accouterments and drill and intrench- 
 mcnts than the gaining the victory, there it is an evil. 
 Otherwise you must grant that it is the only way." 
 
 "Could you r.ot say it has ~been the only way? Is 
 not that day passed ? The Bibles and hymn-books 
 are here, the workers are here ; what more do we 
 ' want ? " 
 
 " We want more books, more papers, more preach 
 ers, and more teachers ; for the baptisms are increas 
 ing in geometrical ratio to the other work, and the 
 building up of workers requires time. Kow, of these 
 men that were baptized to-day fifteen are clmmars, 
 or leather workers, from one village. We want an edu 
 cated man to put at once in that village educated to 
 the extent of being able to read and write and do ac 
 counts, and to know the Bible sufficiently to teach it 
 correctly, and to have been insulated in a Christian 
 school from heathenism long enough to understand 
 what it means to be a Christian ; and I assure you, after 
 all, that is the most important qualification in the man 
 who is to teach new converts." 
 
 " You call them converts, and yet imply that they 
 do not know what it means to be a Christian ? " 
 
 " They have understood with their hearts but not 
 with their heads. There is the beginning of spiritual 
 life in them. I^ow, for instance, a baptized man may be 
 found with two wives in his house. He cannot know 
 it is a sin, for his old religion does not forbid it, and 
 it has never occurred to him that it niight be a sin.
 
 THK MAIIABIK MELA. 239 
 
 There are other things that they will not understand 
 they must leave off. There must be a man to teach 
 them, and there seems to be none available, and yet 
 lie must be found or their last state will be worse than 
 their first. The Christian community begun with 
 these fifteen men, and with a teacher-preacher, as he is 
 called, to lead them, will be doubled and perhaps 
 quadrupled at the end of the year. There will be a 
 mud house built, costing, perhaps, fifty dollars, used 
 for a church on Sundays and a school room and a 
 place for dispensing books and leaflets during the 
 week. From this as a center other villages around 
 
 o 
 
 will be reached." 
 
 "If they were left without a teacher do you mean 
 to say they would go back to heathenism ? " 
 
 "Think what it is in our own land to leave even 
 converts who have lived all their lives surrounded by 
 Christians and well knowing what a Christian should 
 be ; think how loath you are to leave them, even within 
 the sound of a dozen church bells, without direct pas 
 toral care, and then see what it means to baptize a 
 man that has had one day's teaching, and, perhaps, 
 has been previously only self-taught by reading or be 
 ing read to by his sons or his neighbor's sons, and leave 
 him among a lot of people who think he has done an 
 act to bring down the wrath and vindictiveness of 
 their gods on himself and on all that are anyway con 
 nected with him, and whose one aim is to reclaim 
 him. lie must be taught ; he must be under pastoral 
 care or he will go back to an unbelieving idolatry, 
 which is worse for him, far worse, than his first state. 
 Then his teacher is often so ignorant himself that 
 books and papers must supplement the teaching not
 
 240 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION*. 
 
 many, for one illustrated paper will last an incredible 
 time, and one book, if it be the right sort, will be suf 
 ficient, besides his Bible ; but these, even at a nom 
 inal price, cost more than he can afford. There is 
 another strong reason why they must not be left alone. 
 Now, for instance, this Puran Mul, who is so promis 
 ing. I cannot tell yon, nor begin to tell you, what he 
 will have to undergo here where men are so subservient 
 to their parents. Long after an American would de 
 cide for himself they will yield to their parents. A 
 case that has just happened near Madras will give you 
 a little idea of what he may suffer. A young man, 
 by name Appu Rao, was shut up for six weeks in a 
 close, dungeon-like room and watched day and night. 
 Enchantment and violent purgatives were resorted to 
 in vain to drive out the Christian heresies imbibed; 
 pepper and cloves sifted in his eyes did not enlighten 
 them ; lime-juice rubbed daily on a shaven crown did 
 not induce wisdom after Brahman judgment; and 
 though his Bibles were burned before his face, and 
 the ashes mingled with his drink, his well-stored 
 memory still gave out its riches of the words of God 
 to cheer and sustain and to meet the subtle arguments 
 of vakis and gurus and the tempt ings of both the 
 loved and the vicious ; for there are, I am sorry to say, 
 methods resorted to in these cases much worse than 
 keeping all food from them. Besides all this were the 
 threats of powerful neighbors, among whom was the 
 magistrate himself, who visited the house constantly to 
 coax or threaten the man into apostasy. One niglir, 
 his watchers being sick simultaneously, Appu Tiao was 
 left alone, and raising the door off its hinges it fell 
 back, though still Lx-ked. and he escaped/'
 
 THE M AHA] UK MKI.A. 241 
 
 "This is terrible! Such things should not be 
 allowed by the English government." 
 
 "What can the government do except the case be 
 brought to court? The man does not complain, lie 
 is taught by our religion when he is reviled to 
 revile not again. Wherever we can keep from ap 
 pealing to the authority of the government we do so. 
 It is not ' by might, nor by power,' that we expect 
 to conquer. 
 
 "Now, there is another thing : if our schools were 
 given up as you would suggest, where would our 
 Christian children be educated?" 
 
 " Of course that is a point. They could not be put 
 in schools where they would be taught the Vedas or 
 the Koran." 
 
 '.'And where," urged Mackenzie, "would we find 
 men Christian teachers and preachers and also 
 where would we find wives for these men ?" 
 
 "Let them be taught of the Spirit, as in the olden 
 time." 
 
 " Would that work in our Church at home?" 
 
 " Xo ; but that is somewhat different." 
 
 " O, v sighed Mackenzie, "how tired one gets of 
 those indefinite answers of good people! 'It is dif 
 ferent.' 'It is another case.' 'It is not the same 
 thing.' But perhaps you may, when you have been 
 here longer, find that human beings are much the 
 same, and the fore of Christ's teaching is improve 
 ment and a going forward. Speaking to them and tell 
 ing them to go forward is hardly necessary, for the 
 religion of Christ impels forward. You cannot stop its 
 impelling force. But what I want to do to-day is to 
 put you to thinking in regard to what the Church is
 
 242 THE BISHOP'S CONVKKSIOX. 
 
 going to do with all tlieso people that she has got ami 
 is getting on her hands. A thousand a month will 
 not cover the converts made in our evangelical work 
 alone. Now, the object of all this talk on my part is to 
 point out to you a duty you have incurred by coining 
 here where you can see things as they are that is, to 
 help make the Church see the responsibility she has 
 for the care of these poor creatures to whom we are 
 giving a little light. We can win them, convert 
 them, but the Church is directly responsible for their 
 care ; and by the Church I mean each and every one 
 who believes on the name of Christ. Each and 
 every one has as much responsibility as he has in 
 fluence and money that he might use; and it is this 
 you must impress on the people at home. But let us 
 o-o down : I must see to the men that are distributm*);; 
 
 O t O 
 
 books, and if you like you may help me with these 
 leaflets ; " and he gave him half of the package he held 
 in his hand. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton had been taken about by Mrs. Mac 
 kenzie, both giving out leaflets as they went from 
 group to group of the lady missionaries, finding them 
 happy and busy singing or teaching the words of life. 
 
 The leaflets were hymns and Scripture selections 
 printed on bright-colored paper, and at once attracted 
 the attention of the women, who sometimes took 
 them hesitatingly from their hands, looking at the 
 hats and dresses and faces of the givers with strange, 
 unaccustomed eyes that told the ladies that they might 
 be the first white women that had ever been near 
 these shy creatures. Others evidently wanted the 
 leaflets, but, fearing contamination by taking them 
 from white hands, held out their chuddars, in which
 
 THE MAIIABIR MELA. 243 
 
 the ladies dropped the papers, being careful not to 
 touch the garment. Still others motioned them to 
 throw the papers on the ground, from which they 
 would he picked up after the donors were far enough 
 awav, so that there might be no contamination from 
 their shadows. Some there were, however, who would 
 gather up their skirts and draw away with scornful 
 glances and describe a half-circle around them, and 
 would not touch even a paper from the hands of such 
 dreadful people, sure that their sons would die or be 
 come mad, or that even their husbands might die if 
 they more than looked at the bold Mem Sahibs who 
 went about witli their faces uncovered. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton liked distributing leaflets, and would 
 have been happy to have gone on until dark, but she 
 found herself ready to faint after two or three hours, 
 and begged Mrs. Mackenzie to take her away. The 
 latter was quite willing, as she had work to do on 
 their paper, and also because Katie was far from well, 
 and she could not free herself from anxiety about her, 
 although Lillian was spending the day at the house, 
 and she always felt happier when she did not have to 
 leave her quit^ alone. So they asked Carnton to help 
 find their gari for them and to bring the Bishop 
 home with him when he came. 
 
 As they were about to get in Sidney Mellen passed 
 them with Mary Harris, one of her assistants. Carn 
 ton -lifted his sola topi gravely, and she acknowledged 
 it distantly, while her greeting to the ladies was as 
 cordial as usual. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton's brow contracted. Something M*as 
 going wrong in this love story, in which from the 
 beginning she had been interested, and she only half
 
 244 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 nodded in answer to the lifted eyebrows and inquir 
 ing look Mrs. Mackenzie directed toward Carntoifs 
 back. 
 
 " I thought so," said Mrs. Mackenzie, as they drove 
 off, "and it would be a capital arrangement, for they 
 seem just suited to each other.*' 
 
 " And it is so hard for a girl to be alone in a terri 
 ble country like this ; it is too hard altogether," re 
 joined Mrs. Clinton. 
 
 " Yes, though it is about as hard with a husband 
 and little children to be anxious about ; still, it is 
 something to have the support of constant love and 
 sympathy that no freedom from anxiety can compen 
 sate. At any rate, whatever we think, if he wishes 
 to marry her he probably will, for he impresses one 
 as being able to carry out anything he undertakes. 
 As I had not seen them together of late I thought 
 probably there was nothing in it, though some way 
 the native Christians seem to take it for granted." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton reflected. She too had not seen them 
 together of late ; in fact, not since the day of the 
 prince's visit. From the distant greeting to-day, and 
 that cold look on Sidney's face of hardly seeing Carn- 
 ton, she inferred things could not be going right ; she 
 hoped Carnton would not have to suffer, for she 
 was fond of him and thought of him already almost 
 as a son. She had often said to her husband that she 
 would almost be willing their sons, who were respect 
 ively nineteen and twenty-one years old, should be 
 missionaries could they be so noble and strong and 
 wise as he. 
 
 Xow she could recall instances of Sidney's evident 
 avoidance of him, and once of his being unaccount-
 
 THE MAHABIR MELA. 245 
 
 ably away when Sidney had come to spend the even 
 ing with them, and while she talked with Mrs. 
 Mackenzie she still wondered and pondered as women 
 will- 
 But what did these two women mean ? Were they 
 in league against the society which had sent out Sid 
 ney, one of its brightest and sweetest protegees, and 
 one from whom was expected so many years of un 
 swerving devotion, simply because she had never 
 seemed to care for any man in her life? which latter 
 fact, had they been wise, would have made them less 
 instead of more sure of her. 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Clinton thought if Carnton. fell in love 
 with one of another mission he would not and could 
 not take one of the young ladies sent out from the 
 society in which she was especially interested ; so that 
 no complaints of falling away caused by him could be 
 presented to her ears. 
 
 Still, it might be simply that no woman is able to 
 look coldly on a love story ; that, whether young or old, 
 it has a deep fascination for her. It may be a matter 
 of wonder that this is true when they know well 
 what a prosperous love story costs a woman. Per 
 haps they forget to count the cost, and perhaps it is 
 as well for the success of the love story that they do. 
 When the two mothers hurried out of their gari 
 and around to the back of the house for the front 
 was still closed hurried as all mothers do in this un 
 certain land when they have been away from their 
 children long, with the ever-present fear of some ca 
 lamity falling in their absence, they heard sounds of 
 a Ilindoostanee translation of "Sweet J>y and By" 
 being sung in the dining room. Mrs. Mackenzie sig-
 
 246 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 naled to Mrs. Clinton to step softly. Peeping through 
 the shutters they saw Lillian, Katie, and Sarah, the 
 native Christian woman who was always with Lillian 
 when her mother was away, sitting on the floor at 
 one end of the dining room, and the servants and their 
 wives and children sitting about them, or, more cor 
 rectly, the babies were rolling on the floor. 
 
 When they had finished the hymn Katie said, 
 " Now, Lillian, you must read in the Bible;" but 
 Lillian passed it on to Sarah, who took it willingly 
 and read, swaying backward and forth, in a most 
 wonderful intonation, a few verses on which Katie 
 catechised them in what Mrs. Mackenzie recognized 
 as an absurd parody of her own manner, and then 
 they all fell on their faces in the true Mohammedan 
 style, and Katie prayed in Hindoostanee part of her 
 own evening prayer, and wound np with a petition 
 that God would "make all present honest and truth 
 ful if he could ;" which might have been considered 
 somewhat personal. 
 
 Then Lillian began also with part of her evening 
 prayer, adding petitions for the native people, and to 
 her mother's surprise and almost terror she prayed 
 that God w r ould make her good enough when she 
 grew lip to be a missionary, like Miss Mellen, to the 
 nativa women, to teach them about Christ. 
 
 She was followed by Kalan, the fat cook, who 
 looked comical enough in his short ever-dirty cooking 
 coat, and he in turn by Sarah ; then with a repetition 
 of "Sweet By and By," perhaps because Katie did 
 not feel safe to try any other, the meeting closed, and 
 the mothers, with smiles on their lips and tears in 
 their eyes, came in at one door as the congregation,
 
 THE MAHABIK MELA. 247 
 
 looking a little shamefaced, vanished through the 
 other, Katie expediting their retreat by picking up 
 the squirming babies and lugging them out on to the 
 veranda, from which they rolled and tumbled to their 
 own houses. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton said to herself in irony tinged with 
 self-contempt : 
 
 " I have often urged upon young ladies the beauty 
 and desirability of a life spent as a foreign missionary, 
 and I have consoled their mothers by telling them 
 that a mother could not have a greater blessing than 
 a daughter noble enough to give up home, friends, 
 and all that makes life attractive for the purpose of 
 uplifting poor ignorant people who are nothing to her 
 personally. O, yes, I have talked very well, and I 
 thought I believed what I said, but when it comes to 
 Lillian it is another thing ; the beauty and desir 
 ability seem to wane, and I can only hope she will be 
 less tenacious of this idea than she is of most plans 
 she makes."
 
 24:8 TIIK BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IX T II K Z K X A X .V S. 
 
 FTUIE days went on and Lucknow grew hotter and 
 \_ hotter, until there came a time when the earth, 
 heated seven times, refused to do anything but to 
 give viciously back the heat that was poured upon 
 it; when the air, filled with burning sand, gave its 
 help to the sun ; when tall columns of dust marched 
 up and down the streets, and when the sky, unsympa 
 thetic as burnished brass, gave no relief. The birds, 
 with parched throats, panted their lives out on the 
 dust-covered branches and dropped dead on the bare 
 ground, excepting, of course, the fiendish " brain-fever '' 
 bird, which one hoped would die before his prodding, 
 stabbing note had driven his hearers into the brain 
 fever of which he was always shrieking, and his 
 brother-fiend, the "blacksmith" bird, with his never- 
 censing metallic note, that Mrs. Clinton could not 
 distinguish sometimes from the heavy throbbing in 
 her head; which proved that the two together, added 
 to the heat, might do, in the way of producing brain 
 trouble, what one could not alone. 
 
 The Clinton family, taken together, were giving the 
 busy people of the mission no little anxiety. 
 
 First, Lillian began to look like a pale little ghost, 
 then her mother turned into a companion ghost, with 
 weary eyes and despairing face ; not that she was un-
 
 IN THE ZENANAS. 249 
 
 happy, but the heat \vas taking her strength inch by 
 inch, and .she \vas fighting it with all the obstinacy 
 born of a determination to prove herself not in the 
 wrong. She had yielded every one of the points m 
 which she had thought the missionaries mistaken but 
 t\vo, and they were punkahs and a vacation in the 
 hills, unless one were ill. 
 
 JS T o\v, punkah is a generic term that includes all 
 kinds of fans, even to the fire bellows, but when ono 
 speaks of punkahs usually he means the long plank 
 or pole swung by ropes from the ceiling, to which is 
 attached a wide flounce of white starched muslin. A 
 rope tied to the center of the pole extends out on to 
 the veranda, where a cooly sits and pulls this rope. 
 From "the middle of April to the middle of October 
 these punkahs swing night and day in all European 
 homes, and in many native homes. They arc disagree 
 able, cumbersome, and add to the expense of the 
 household and a great deal to the annoyance, for they 
 knock off pugris and chuddars, they are a bar to all 
 tidiness of hair, the} T blow papers and letters about 
 when one tries to write, they destroy any pleasant or 
 attractive appearance a room may have, and they are 
 generally irritating to the temper. 
 
 However, there is one trilling redeeming quality : 
 they are absolutely necessary to work and even life 
 in India, and one becomes resigned to them after five 
 or ten minutes of work in a room without them, and 
 hurries back dripping with perspiration and with 
 bursting head to sink exhausted on a couch under 
 one of these swaying evils. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton had set her face against punkahs, es 
 pecially because of the vague rumors which had gon: 1
 
 250 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 about at home of missionaries " having men fan them 
 while they did nothing." She had denied it indig 
 nantly many times when begging for missions, and 
 she was now going to show the missionaries that pun 
 kahs were not necessary, for she did not know just 
 how she could have the face to ask for all the money 
 she meant to ask on her return if she were obliged to 
 say that they had had a half-dozen men or more to do 
 their work, and two merely to fan them, and, worse 
 than all, often to fan when they themselves were do 
 ing nothing. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton had to acknowledge to doing nothing 
 more hours in the day than she liked. They rose at 
 four or five to get a little air that was fit for breathing 
 purposes, and that they might work while moderation 
 of heat made it possible ; bat after nine each day she 
 lay on the cane couch, and Lillian lay on another, 
 made of the stalks of kusi grass, in the sitting room, 
 because that was the coolest room. This room, in 
 order to keep out the hot air and the glare of the sun. 
 was shut so close that it was impossible to read or 
 work; but, even had it not been so, they were too 
 stupid and weak and too overcome with the heat to 
 do anything but lie quiet, sometimes in a sort of stu 
 por, and sometimes asleep, until four o'clock, when 
 they would drag themselves into their bath room, and, 
 after a bath, dress while the perspiration poured off 
 of them and while they felt almost too faint and 
 giddy to stand. 
 
 If Mrs. Clinton ever ventured to lift the dark shade 
 of the small window in her bath room the only win 
 dow in the house and look out on the sun-baked 
 earth, the dry trees, the birds panting like weary dogs
 
 IN THE ZENANAS. 251 
 
 or fallen to the scorching sand beneath, saw the air 
 filled with clouds of dust, and the brave little ponies 
 drawing the rattling ekkas, their drivers sitting with 
 their dirty chuddars wrapped around their heads to 
 keep off the hot wind, she dropped it quickly, and 
 the tears rolled unchecked down her colorless face as 
 she tried in vain to believe that somewhere at that 
 very moment, somewhere there were orchards in 
 bloom, fresh green pastures, where cattle stood ki'u-e- 
 deep in moist grass ; and there really were, somewhere 
 cool springs of water surrounded by fresh ferns under 
 the shade of dustless forest trees. It was not possible 
 to believe it ; the whole world was only a dreary 
 burning furnace, which was peopled by me.i and 
 women who were living because they were too ex 
 hausted and tired to die ! 
 
 The Bishop himself was feeling the climate to the 
 fullest extent of its power of making a person un 
 comfortable, though he was able to do more work 
 than his wife. 
 
 The waves of heat that went over his body to his 
 head, caused, perhaps, by his full, sanguine tempera 
 ment and plethoric body, were partly robbed of their 
 deadly quality by prickly heat. People have a most 
 ungrateful way of dreading this disease, for its marks, 
 though disfiguring, are a sort of flag flying or an ex 
 ponent indicating that there is none of the fatal and 
 insidious fever or not much danger of apoplexy. 
 It is simply a thick rash caused by profuse perspi 
 ration. Profuse perspiration has other evils besides 
 this. It makes cuffs and collars, as well as starched 
 linen, impossible, likewise dry clothes, unless a change 
 is made every hour of the day. "Rivers of water" 
 18
 
 252 THK BISHOP'S CONN KKSIOX. 
 
 run clown the face, dropping off of the various eaves 
 formed by the eyebrows, the ears, the nose, and the 
 chin, and one big river down the spinal column, fed 
 by tributaries from the table-lands of the shoulder- 
 blades, but, worst of all, every drop and every rivulet 
 leaves a train of nettle stings in its wake, and these 
 maddening stings are the first indication that prickly 
 heat lias marked you for its own. Bad as it is, pain 
 ful and uncomfortable as it undoubtedly is, this is not 
 the most aggravating phase of the disease. AY hen 
 the usual question is put to you as to your health in 
 this trying season and your answer is " Miserable." 
 your friend quickly, with the face of concern that the 
 suggestion of illness always brings in this terrible 
 time for no one knows when it once begins where it 
 is going to fetch up inquires what is the trouble. 
 But your answer, given in actual torment and distress, 
 'Prickly heat,'' only calls forth an indifferent, " O, 
 that is nothing ; it is good for you." 
 
 Then you begin to feel the old aboriginal blood 
 stirring in you which would lead you to take the life 
 of your neighbor; but it is checked at once, and yon 
 content yourself with a wish nearly as bad. but lawful : 
 you wish your friend to have this thing forever that 
 is so good for people, this stinging, irritating, tantalis 
 ing prickly heat. 
 
 The Bishop had it as bad as possible, and all those 
 to whom he spoke of it smiled with perhaps a touch 
 of malice; at least with amused satisfaction, feeling 
 it was a sort of poetic justice. ( Vrtainly any lin 
 gering resentment thev mav have had at the self- 
 sufficient attitude he had taken 0:1 his arrival in In- 
 vlia vanished about this time. Thev mav have felt
 
 IN THE ZKXAXAS. 
 
 that two or three months of tin's especial affliction 
 would amply avenge any wrongs they had suffered at 
 his hands ; and as for his wife, all. even Mrs. Mackenzie, 
 forgot everything but the fear tliev had that she was 
 
 o / c? / 
 
 carrying her experiment too far. 
 
 The Bishop felt the need of punkahs less than his 
 wife, perhaps, for he was often out till eleven in the 
 morning, sitting under a punkah in the college, where 
 lie was giving some regular lectures in English, or at 
 the publishing house planning out tracts with Macken 
 zie, or here and there, and would come home to break 
 fast and fall asleep in his study quite overcome, or 
 perhaps, finding he could not successfully compete with 
 the power of the heat, would go off to his bed and sleep 
 two go'od hours. Even then he only ffot his usual 
 
 O *J O 
 
 anjount of sleep, for when a man begins work at 
 five and goes to bed at eleven or twelve it is not 
 strange that sleep, assisted by intense and oppressive 
 heat of a thoroughly foreign climate, overpowers 
 him. 
 
 This sly, insidious climate, which says, "I am not 
 so bad after all ; you can live with me if you only try,'' 
 is all the time gradually putting water in your veins 
 instead of good red blood, and turning your hair gray 
 in one season ; but the rooms are dark and you do 
 not see it, nor would you care if you did, for, with 
 other things, it steals your care for, or interest in, 
 yourself. This vile climate it taps you all over like 
 a hungry fly, and finally, finding the weak point in 
 vour body, begins its silent work. Perhaps vour 
 grandfather had consumption the bad air. the great 
 lowering of the temperature from noon to midnight 
 at all times of the year, weakens and takes all strength
 
 '2~>4 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 or fiber from the lungs ; or there is a little defect of 
 liver it is made the most of ; or there is a tendency 
 to eat nothing or to indigestion it is seized on, and 
 then comes cholera and sweeps you off at once ; or 
 you are strong and stout, and there is congestion of 
 the brain or apoplexy. 
 
 Knowing all these things, the members of the mis 
 sion circle were anxious in regard to this family of 
 self-appointed exiles. There was no imperative duty 
 keeping them, and it was a time either to flee or to 
 take the best personal care ; the latter involved three 
 things willingness to do it, knowing how, and having 
 the means with which to do it. 
 
 Finally, when Miss Whitlow was ordered to the 
 mountains for a month by the doctor she told Mrs. 
 Clinton that they all ought to come with her ; bnt no, 
 Mrs. Clinton said : 
 
 " We will do as others do. When the doctor tells 
 ns that it is necessary to the preservation of our lives 
 to go, then we will go, but not otherwise," 1 thinking 
 in her heart that she would not go until Mrs. Mac 
 kenzie did, at least. 
 
 This sort of dull, obstinate despair is not uncom 
 mon to worn-out people in that weary land, for they 
 get a settled conviction that no change will make 
 things any better; they hope to hold out until the 
 cooler weather comes ; but it does not seem to matter 
 much, for it is a notable fact that good judgment de 
 parts with the departure of red blood from the system. 
 
 Lucky are they if in this comatose state of strength 
 and reason some good friend rises up and drives them, 
 by various threatenings and scoldings, off to the home 
 land or to the mountains. They go, often angry an-]
 
 IN THE ZENANAS. 255 
 
 resentful of the interference, as they call it ; but 
 when once more returning, clothed in strength and in 
 their right minds, they laugh at their own obstinacy 
 while earnestly thanking their friend in need. 
 
 Too often ah, ho\v much too often ! no friend 
 rises up to protect them from themselves ; perhaps the 
 temporary loss to the work is thought too great to 
 permit the absence, and thus a great permanent loss 
 to the work is risked once too often and there is an 
 other blank in the Conference roll, another sad-eyed 
 woman in black is left to wonder why the demands 
 of God's work are made so heavy, or some helpless 
 little children are sent with a bewildered, grief-stricken 
 father across the water to find home and care as best 
 they may. 
 
 So Mackenzie, who did not mind saying anything 
 that he thought right to say, told the Bishop that he 
 was risking his own life and the lives of his wife and 
 
 O 
 
 child by the course lie was pursuing. 
 
 After some persuasion, and without saying that 
 going without punkahs was none of his own doing, the 
 Bishop ordered punkahs, and superintended their put 
 ting up, for it is doubtful whether Mrs. Clinton had 
 strength enough left to oversee it herself, as the 
 Bishop saw with alarm that she had none left to op 
 pose it. 
 
 Then he arranged for ice to be sent every day, for 
 some bitter waters, and twice a day the cook was 
 ordered to bring them beef-tea. This was all at Mac 
 kenzie's suggestion, and there was a visible brighten 
 ing all around. Then Lillian's winter clothes was 
 got out and she was sent off with Miss Whitlow to 
 Naini Tal, to the girls' school, where she was to be
 
 256 THE BISHOP'S TON VERSION. 
 
 cured for, but not allowed to study. This also Mrs. 
 Clinton did not oppose, for about this time news was 
 coining in of the havoc being made by the hot weather 
 in the ranks north and south. 
 
 News from Rangoon of a young strong man fall 
 ing dead before his wife's face; from Bangalore of a 
 wife, iincL-r physician's orders tor a home climate, 
 who had begged her husband to let her stay another 
 year that he might not be working alone, sinking 
 quickly under unexpected pressure of circumstances, 
 and now he was to be forever alone. From Cawn- 
 poor the hands of another worker slipping unwill 
 ingly off from work passionately loved, loved more, 
 perhaps, for the very fact that it had in four short 
 years bleached her black hair to a snow; and from 
 one and another station rumors of prostration and 
 fever. It was a time to look sharp, to go softly 
 and hope for better times, and it was now that the 
 Bishop thought the house, that had seemed so large, 
 too small and close ; it was now that he would have 
 given much for vegetables and fruit; it was now 
 that the meat was as tender and palatable as boiled 
 leather, the milk three fourths water and perfectly 
 impossible as a drink; it was now that he had grave 
 thoughts of importing vegetables and fruit from Eng 
 land and America, and rashly invested in tinned veg 
 etables, though they were said to be unsafe and many 
 cases of poisoning had been known. 
 
 And it was now Mrs. Clinton would have been glad 
 of something bright to look at in her dreary rooms 
 some pictures of snow, or of green fields, or of flow 
 ers; of anything to relieve the blankness of it all; 
 anything to keep her mind on but the thought of
 
 IN THE ZENANAS. 257 
 
 work she wished to do and could not ; anything but 
 the thought of other people who were overworking, 
 sick, or even dying, for with all other people, as well 
 as with them, life was going heavily. 
 
 All work went on with a great effort, and none 
 more laboriously than the zenana work in which Mrs. 
 Clinton had especially interested herself. She liked 
 it; it was attractive work in the two months of 
 bearable weather but after that each week she left 
 more and more of the work to Georgiana, the Bible 
 woman, with whom she always went. 
 
 Often, as the narrow lanes and byways and open 
 sewers became more and more overpowering, when 
 the hot, stifling little rooms made her gasp for breath, 
 when. some interesting child disappointed her, or some 
 woman in whom she believed and of whom she had 
 grown fond developed startling- proclivities to evil 
 often Mrs. Clinton would compare her old romantic 
 idea of zenana visiting with the reality and wonder 
 how she could have been so mistaken. Sometimes 
 she would blame the missionaries who had told of 
 this life that they had left the shadows to the imagi 
 nation. 
 
 But she forgot that the worst,, the saddest, the 
 most terrible things are those that from their very 
 nature could not be told from a public platform, and 
 even if they could would a good soldier ever tell of 
 the difficulties ? Hardly, for it is too much like sound 
 ing his own praises. 
 
 Perhaps she finally saw this, but she determined 
 that when she saw zenana missionaries standing on 
 platforms and telling of dearly bought victories as 
 though they were a simple matter of course she 
 
 O t/ X
 
 THE BISHOP'S COXVKKSIOX. 
 
 would rise and tell the people to lill in between tlie 
 lines all that imagination would allow them of details, 
 of difficulties, ot* sickening odor.-, of constant con 
 tagion, of stifling air that brings a deadly faint ness to 
 the body, of vile lives whose details are so confused 
 with the heat and the stench that one can hardly tell 
 which it is that most fills one with loathing of life. 
 
 She would tell them this, and of the going through 
 all this and more, upheld by the dire need of these 
 people for something better, and by the certain indi 
 cations that good was being done, until perhaps an 
 unthinking, meaningless word arouses suspicion in 
 these ever-suspicious minds, and the doors in these 
 walls are closed and nothing can open them, and the 
 zenana teacher is crushed by the thought that perhaps 
 because of her own imperfect teaching those that she 
 thought emerging into light have sunk back into 
 darkness and obscurity. 
 
 It was something like this that was taking the color 
 out of Sidney Mellen's face earlier than usual, and 
 perhaps it was not all this, though as the heat grew 
 fiercer and fiercer it was enough to blanch the face 
 of anyone, young or old. 
 
 Perhaps Carnton had something to do with the fact 
 that she was not standing the hot season quite as well 
 as usual. Certainly the brightness and extra interest 
 that her first acquaintance with him had thrown 
 around her work had vanished, though she could 
 hardly tell when the sympathetic friend she had found 
 and claimed had disappeared, and only a man who 
 rather disapproved of her and all she did was left in 
 his place. 
 
 It was hard she did not deny it was hard and
 
 IN THE ZENANAS. 259 
 
 she rebelled against many things, but first and fore 
 most against her sex, that would not permit her to go 
 to him and say : 
 
 "Why are you disappointing me? Is friendship 
 so common a thing that you can take it up gladly foi 
 a moment only to tire of it and throw it down the 
 next?" 
 
 This was what she said to herself when daylight 
 
 / ~ 
 
 stared her in the face ; but sometimes in the dead of 
 night, when she was alone in the heavy darkness, did 
 she tell herself the truth, or what, she would say with 
 a face hot with waves of blood, might possibly be the 
 truth: 
 
 " He is, for some inscrutable reason, afraid of caring 
 too much, or perhaps- -perhaps he might have thought 
 thajt I would come to care too much." 
 
 Sometimes when this suggestion would present it 
 self she would almost fear that in the morning it 
 would be known that all would have the second sight 
 to see this terrible thought that had been in her 
 mind ; but the night and the swaying punkah and the 
 sleepy punkah cooly told no tales, and the days went 
 on and her strength did not seem quite up to the 
 usual demands. Sleepless nights do not qualify one 
 for days of furnace heat, and she went wearily in and 
 out of the houses, haunted by a fear that some day 
 she would reach the limit and would have no strength 
 to get in and out of the gari, no will strong enough 
 to urge her lagging steps up the stairs into her dreary, 
 unsympathetic room ; and then what would happen ? 
 Perhaps some of those merciful diseases with sudden 
 terminations, which always stand waiting around the 
 corner out of sight, would end it all quickly, and an-
 
 260 THE ISisnop's CONVERSION. 
 
 other lady would come out from the home land full of 
 enthusiasm and strength. Perhaps she might do the 
 work better, and perhaps Carnton might be pleased 
 with her also, until he came to know how much she 
 cared for friendship, and then she, too, might find his 
 eyes unkind. But she hoped that she, this imaginary 
 new zenana teacher, might not be young " not 
 young, for life looks too long in its dreary perspective 
 without any friends for whom one really cares." 
 
 But not often did she allow herself the luxury of 
 such fancies. She was there for work, and work she 
 loved more than she loved herself or her own happi 
 ness ; work, whose interest increased in proportion 
 almost as its difficulties increased, and just now, in 
 some respects, these seemed to be multiplying. 
 
 There was one house especially the inmates of 
 which gave her much thought. From the first day 
 she had been called to visit it, which had been re 
 cently, there seemed not only to herself, but to her 
 assistants, an air of mystery about it that they did not 
 like. One accustomed to constant dealing with Orien 
 tals comes to trust to impressions or instincts or what 
 ever may be called that peculiar sense that detects the 
 untrue, the unworthy, and the mysterious. This is a 
 grateful sense and develops in proportion as it is 
 trusted, even though it be trusted simply because 
 there is nothing else to guide one. There are so 
 many unexplored parts to an ordinary native's mind, 
 so many secret drawers, so many false bottoms, that 
 a European of a confiding nature and given to trust 
 ing surface appearances is apt to be led in dubious 
 ways, and to often find himself in pits of the exist 
 ence of which only experience could convince him.
 
 IN THE ZEXAXAS. 261 
 
 In this house, concerning which Sidney was feeling 
 a little uncertain and uncomfortable, were a woman 
 called Moonia and her daughter Juniia, a girl quite 
 beyond the age when girls are usually married. This 
 circumstance the mother was careful to explain, sav 
 ing that she was a widow and too poor to provide 
 the marriage portion of her daughter ; and yet some 
 way. though they dressed plainly, they did not give, 
 exactly, the impression of being poor. But the 
 mother explained fully that they had lived in a little 
 village where all the men cared more for money than 
 beauty, and she had come to Lucknow in the hope of 
 finding some one that would be satisfied with her 
 child's beauty, and that alone. 
 
 "Now," she said, with much satisfaction, on the 
 day of Sidney's first visit, " my efforts have been re 
 warded and a husband has been found both rich and 
 intelligent who wishes his wife to be taught that she 
 may also understand and be wise." 
 
 This sounded plausible; but there was something 
 in the girl's pretty face that contradicted a part or the 
 whole of the statement and warned Sidney to be cau 
 tious. 
 
 Then there was the lack of the usual shyness that 
 was invariable with girls on meeting a woman with a 
 white face for the first time ; a lack of the usual curi 
 osity in regard to her dress and habits that was puz 
 zling; and equally puzzling was the fact of her being 
 well taught for a village girl, though her mother said 
 briefly that Jumia had taught herself, which was so 
 palpable an untruth that Sidney did not credit it a 
 moment; but the girl was so gentle and loving, so 
 eager to learn, and so earnest in begging Sidney
 
 262 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 never to miss a day but always to come, that she went 
 as often as possible. 
 
 One day when the mother, who had never before 
 left them for a moment, went out into the courtyard 
 Jumia said, quickly : 
 
 "Miss Sahib, I want to come and live with you. I 
 suffer much. May I come ? " 
 
 Sidney was startled for a moment, but the mother 
 returning immediately prevented her giving any an 
 swer, and afterward, on thinking it over, she concluded 
 it was a mere impulse. During the next visit they 
 were again alone for a few moments, and Jumia said, 
 hurriedly and with great emotion : 
 
 " My dear Miss Sahib, I am a lie. My name is 
 Sitara, and I was the wife of Shew Pershad, who died. 
 Your Carnton Sahib knows me, and also Miss W hit- 
 low Sahib, with whom I was in the Bewa Khana." 
 
 " How can this be ? " said Sidney, her head in a 
 whirl. 
 
 She knew the story of Sitara, of the bright promise 
 of Shew Pershad's life, and of his wife's disappearance 
 after his death. Carnton himself had told her of the 
 legacy of trust Shew Pershad had left him in regard 
 to Sitara. 
 
 Watching Sidney's face as she saw her gradually 
 comprehending the situation, she said, after waiting a 
 moment, 
 
 " Xow may I come to you ? " 
 
 "Why not iro to Miss Whitlow ? She searched for 
 
 / 
 
 you and longed to find you." 
 
 " Mother would find me there, because she knows I 
 wanted to go back, and Miss Whitlow would have ti> 
 give me up. They will not think I am with you, and
 
 Ix THE ZKXAXAS. 203 
 
 in that great old house in which you live there must 
 he a corner for me. Miss Whitlow and Carnton Sa 
 hib must not oven know that I a'n here that Sitara is 
 in Luckiiuw ; for it is their way always to speak the 
 truth, and my mother would ask them. Only close in 
 your heart can the knowledge he of me, for even 
 walls have ears and eyes, and can speak of things that 
 are. You will let me come, because Shew Pershad 
 said I must be a Christian ? " 
 
 Still Sidney was silent, for it was all too sudden and 
 too confusing. There was too much involved to bo 
 able to answer quickly or even at all. 
 
 Then the girl, still with her eyes half on the door, 
 where she expected every moment to see her mother, 
 pleaded": 
 
 "You alone can help me. You -must help me. 
 There- is no one else. You are happy and free, and 
 your God cares for you and does not let dark 
 clouds of sorrow wrap you about. But see, I will 
 come to you and live Avith yon, and your God, who 
 does not despise women, will also care for me." 
 
 This last was said as though reading it from the 
 Bible, as the mother was just coming in; and then 
 Sitara really began reading. 
 
 "My dear child is learning rapidly," said the 
 mother, with a smile that showed her teeth blackened 
 and her lips red with the pan she was chewing, and 
 she arranged her chuddar with a satisfied air. " She, 
 
 O 
 
 is soon to make a great marriage. We arc poor, 
 very poor, but Kam is good and has given her a 
 very handsome young and rich husband. She will 
 have silks and velvets and jewels until her heart is 
 full, and then every day curry und rice, with the best
 
 264 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 of spices. Ah ! " and she gave a sigli which was partly 
 a groan of satisfaction. 
 
 " Does she does she like this man ? " asked Sidney. 
 
 She was going to say, " Does she love this man ? " 
 but knowing this would shock her prejudices she 
 changed the word. 
 
 "Not now, but why will she not? It is not the 
 custom to like much before marriage. It would not 
 do, but she will be very fond when she has all these 
 clothes and jewels." 
 
 " It is as useless," thought Sidney. " to tell her that 
 clothes and jewels cannot bring happiness as it was to 
 tell my own aunt at home, who wished me to marry a 
 rich man. There is a similarity. Girls, whether in 
 the Occident or Orient, are expected to fill their 
 hearts with jewels and clothes." 
 
 " But, Moonia," she said, " you know that if he is 
 not good her heart will be heavy even though she has 
 a world full of silks and jewels." 
 
 "Tut," she said, looking with a warning glance 
 toward the girl, " he is good, of course he is good. 
 Why else should he give her all these things ? Come, 
 Jumia, you have a new chuddar to sew. Show the 
 Miss Sahib how nicely you are sawing it." 
 
 The next day Sidney went for the lesson with anx 
 ious heart, but everything was as usual ; the reading 
 in Hindi and Urdu, and then the Bible lesson 
 which Sitara always enjoyed, and through which her 
 mother sat scowling and silent. She was, however, 
 willing to permit it, for the sake of the other teaching, 
 and trusted to the effect of her always telling Sitara, 
 after Sidney had gone, that it was all a lie. a fable 
 
 .' O 
 
 like the stories she had told her of talking tigers in
 
 IN THE ZEXAXAS. 
 
 the jungles and of birds who cooked and- ate men's 
 food. 
 
 When Sidney was leaving, Sitara brought the usual 
 offering of cardamom seeds and pan, and as she handed 
 Sidney the pan her back M*as toward her mother and 
 her lips framed the word "inside." 
 
 With a nervous hand, when once in her gari, Sid 
 ney opened the glossy green pan leaf, and instead of the 
 usutil paste of betel nut, cardamom seeds, and lime, she 
 found a scrap of paper on which were the words in 
 Hindi, " I will come to you when the darkness 
 comes." 
 
 Sidney was much agitated, for she knew this taking- 
 refuge with her might involve much trouble, though 
 how much she did not and could not guess. She 
 wished for advice, and she thought at once of Carn- 
 ton. She had not seen him for many days, but she 
 knew that he had often been sad that he had not been 
 able to fulfill Shew Pershad's trust in him. Now he 
 would be glad and, perhaps, be grateful to her for 
 being able to do what he could not, and perhaps he 
 would once more give her his kindly approval, and 
 she was ready for a moment to do what would please 
 him, but only for a moment. In an instant she put 
 the thought aside, and also all thought of Carnton, 
 that she might not have her idea of duty warped. 
 
 But after all this was" not necessary. It was really 
 taken out of her hands. Sitara had purposely ar 
 ranged giving her the message so that she could not 
 refuse. -Thinking it over again she saw this, and she 
 could only wait, not being able even to say she would 
 or would not receive her. She could only say : 
 
 " It is in. God's hands now, and if she is true and 
 19
 
 206 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION'. 
 
 earnest he will care fur her, as lie has ever cared for 
 his own." 
 
 When again the wind had gone down, when not a 
 leaf moved and the twilight, heavy with the scent of 
 jasmine and babul, was over all, every person about 
 the house seemed to have departed on one pretext or 
 another, even the assistants having gone to evening 
 service, and Sidney sat alone on the first of the steps 
 that led to the front veranda. 
 
 She was anxious, and yet peace was in her heart. 
 Watching the gateway she saw nothing, but suddenly 
 there was a shaking of the pomegranate tree that 
 reached down to where she sat, a tinkle of anklets and 
 toe rings, a swish of silken garments, and Sitara was 
 panting like a hunted deer in her arms. 
 
 She drew her quickly inside, then up the winding 
 stairway and into an empty unused little back room 
 which opened off of her rooms by a rude little door 
 hung with a portiere. She had not thought where 
 she would put Sitara or what she could do with her, 
 for it seemed too much like planning to take the 
 child from her mother; but now that she had come of 
 her own accord she would do the best she could for her. 
 She brought what was needful into the room and 
 then, having dropped the curtain and closed the little 
 door, sat down on a low chair that she had brought 
 for herself, and said : 
 
 " You said once you were in great danger ; tell 
 me all. Be very careful that you speak truly : that 
 all you say is straight and right.'' 
 
 Sitara knelt by her side and laid her head on Sid 
 ney's shoulder, who, with one arm around her, listened. 
 
 " It is as I said on the day when my heart first stood
 
 Ix TIIK ZENANAS. 267 
 
 tip to speak to my dear Miss Sahib. My mother and 
 father gave me to Shew Pershad when I was six years 
 old, and I went to live with his mother. lie was a 
 brother to me and I was his sister, for his mother was 
 of a very bad disposition and was very unkind. Then 
 Shew Pershad became a Christian after he had been 
 to the mission school, and he brought me away that I 
 might learn to be a Christian also, and we were to 
 have a house when he had finished school and we 
 were to be married in the church by the Padri Sahib 
 as Christians. It was then I was with Miss Whitlow 
 when he became sick, and he sent for me and told me 
 I must stay with Miss Whitlow and be a Christian 
 and learn to teach others to be so too. After he died 
 his mother arranged with my mother and she took 
 me away, pretending that she was going to take me to 
 Miss Whitlow's Bewa Khana, but it was only here in 
 another part of Lucknow that we came. Then she 
 found this man, who is old and hideous, who will kill 
 me if he finds ont that he has been trapped into mar 
 rying a widow. When she told me that she had ar 
 ranged for me to marry him I was very angry, but 
 she said I must not tell him I was a widow, but marry 
 him quietly, or she would do worse." 
 
 "What could be worse?" 
 
 Sitara hesitated, her head went down, and she whis 
 pered : 
 
 " She said she must have more money, for she loves 
 money more than anything else, and she would sell me 
 iu the bazar to any one." 
 
 Sidney was appalled to think of this poor lamb left 
 among wolves, and remorseful that she had thought 
 for a moment of refusing to shelter her.
 
 268 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 "I never meant to pretend to marry him, and lie 
 thought me stupid. So lie said I must be taught, and 
 you were culled, and O, Miss Sahib, how glad I was ! 
 I had said I would kill myself, and I did not eat and I 
 was as thin as paper; and there is a deep well back of 
 the house that would have received me kindly had 
 you not come. But my poor heart lifted itself up 
 when you came, for I knew you were good because 
 you are to marry Shew Pershad's Carnton Sahib." 
 
 " What ! " was the startled exclamation. 
 
 " I knew Carnton Sahib, whom Shew Pershad said 
 was so good, would not take you for his wife un 
 less" 
 
 " But who said" 
 
 " The cousin of Shew Pershad, who is in the school, 
 said it. O, it is well known, and he is a fine, hand 
 some man, and of pleasant disposition," looking a lit 
 tle curiously at Sidney's agitated face. 
 
 After a pause Sitara went on : 
 
 " I knew you would let me come to you, and it would 
 have been death to stay there. I think Mohun Lai 
 suspects I have been married, for he came twice when 
 he knew my mother was not in the house, and he was 
 very unkind to me, and he has put off the marriage, 
 though my mother was not pleased to do so, and they 
 are talking of something else, of which they do not let 
 me hear the words." 
 
 Sidney was weighing all this in her mind. The 
 only thing that did not seem true was that they were 
 poor. She finally asked : 
 
 " But if you are so poor how do you have all these 
 jewels and this pretty silken dress?"' for she was 
 dressed as a rich woman dresses.
 
 Ix THE ZENANAS. 269 
 
 Sitara laughed the gleeful laugh of the child she 
 was. 
 
 " I have not said we were poor. My mother says 
 it. She says that to make people believe her when she 
 tells them I am not married ; otherwise people would 
 have suspected at once that I am a widow. I did not 
 mean to let her have these things. They are mine, 
 and I love them. We are not at all poor. See!" 
 And she lifted one skirt and showed another of gold- 
 colored satin underneath. Under this was a purple 
 velvet, and under this a silvery gauze heavily embroid 
 ered with gold. 
 
 " And in each pocket of each are my jewels," she 
 added, gayly ; and she drew out of one a huge nose 
 ring, set with many large pearls, a necklace of gold set 
 with turquoises and pearls, and toe rings and finger 
 rings. "And they are all full," she said, patting the 
 other skirts, which dragged in two or three places. 
 
 " And see! " and she lifted her skirt and showed the 
 heavy anklets of gold on the little ankles, and the 
 armlets of gold and pearls and turquoises and the 
 bangles of silver and gold. 
 
 " O, my Sitara, what have you done! What have 
 you done ! " and Sidney wrung her hands. " Why 
 did you bring them ?" 
 
 The large soft eyes opened wider than ever in as 
 tonishment. 
 
 "Why not? They are mine. Father bought them 
 for my wedding. I was the only daughter, and he had 
 money. ShewPershad's mother never knew how many 
 I had. They are mine," she said, a little fiercely, '* and 
 I love them," touching them with a loving pat. 
 
 Sidney walked the floor. What should she do ? She
 
 270 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 saw it all at once. The story would go that the child 
 had been kidnapped for her jewels. She would be 
 advertised in the zenanas as the kidnapping zenana 
 teacher, and not only she, but other zenana teachers 
 would be maligned with a show of truth. She knew 
 that already many such stories were told to the women 
 in zenanas, but against constant love and kindness 
 these stories had had little weight. Xow they would 
 be believed. Should she send her back and sacrifice 
 one for the many? No, no. She would do what 
 seemed right; for if she sent her back it would be 
 only to a life of infamy, for even if there was a 
 marriage it could not be aught but a pretense. 
 
 " Sitara, listen tome. Do you know that by bring 
 ing your fine clothes and jewels you have endangered 
 what is worth more than life to me ? " 
 
 The startled fawn-like look came ao-ain to her face, 
 
 O / 
 
 and she said, solemnly : 
 
 " My Miss Sahib, I would go away into the hell of 
 life with that man before I would cause the wind to 
 lift your hair. "What have I done ? " 
 
 " They will call me a thief, and say I have stolen 
 you for your jewels." 
 
 Sitara knew enough of native ways of doing to need 
 no proof of this. 
 
 "True, O true!" and she rocked herself back and 
 forth. "I did not think, I did not know." 
 
 She rose sorrowfully and came and put her arms 
 around Sidney, laying her head first on one shoulder, 
 then on the other. 
 
 " Salaam," she said ; "I must go quickly, and they 
 will not know what I meant to do. They will kill 
 me if they find it out ;" and she was gliding out of
 
 IN THE ZENANAS. 271 
 
 the door before Sidney understood and caught her bv 
 
 !/ O I/ 
 
 the arm. 
 
 " What do you mean ? Are you going back ? " 
 
 " Yes, O, yes! It is better for me to go back than 
 bring trouble on your head." 
 
 "Wait, Sitara, wait," she cried. "I must think. I 
 cannot keep you with these jewels and clothes. 
 Would you rather give them up and stay, or keep 
 them and go back ? " 
 
 "I will give them up, I will give them up ; for if 
 I go back there is only the old well back of the court 
 yard for me, and" shuddering "it is very deep 
 and dark." 
 
 Sidney shuddered too, but she now knew Sitara was 
 in earnest and understood what she was doing. 
 
 " Very well, then," she answered, " you shall stay ; 
 but let us gather these things up quickly; we have 
 no time to lose ; put the jewels all together in this 
 while I am gone." 
 
 She went, out, bolting the door at top and bottom, 
 and hurried down stairs, stopping neither right nor left, 
 though Mary Harris had come back from evening 
 service and was waiting to speak to her. Out into one 
 of the arms of the old palace she went to a native 
 Christian woman. 
 
 "Matarn Gini," she said, " I want a clean siah and 
 chuddar at once, and mind, you are to tell no one I 
 asked for them." 
 
 Matam Gini gave them quickly, showing no signs 
 of astonishment, and soon Sidney was back in the lit 
 tle room and Sitara had them on, and her own clothes 
 and jewels were tied in one compact bundle. 
 
 " Now I will get them out of the hou>e as quickly
 
 272 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 as possible," saM Sidney, and went out to where the 
 assistants were sitting in the dark, and asked Mary 
 Harris, the oldest and most experienced of the girls, to 
 come to her room. 
 
 "Now," she said, "I have something very difficult 
 and dangerous for some one to do, but if it is done 
 well it will be of great help to us and save us much 
 trouble. This bundle must be put in Moonia's house 
 at once. It will not do for you or any of the servants 
 or anyone connected with the mission to take it, or 
 even any native Christian, but you may know some 
 one who is quite unconnected with us, and who is ac 
 customed to going about in the native city, who can 
 find the house without asking any questions, and, re 
 member, the utmost haste is necessary. The girl you 
 saw there, called Jumia, has come away from her 
 friends and says she is determined to stay with us and 
 be a Christian. But she has brought her jewels and 
 rich clothes. You see they must be returned at once 
 without anyone's knowledge. How can it be done ? " 
 
 Mary Harris looked startled, for she saw even more 
 clearly than Sidney did the full danger of this, but 
 she said quietly : 
 
 " I can manage it, I think," and then added, ' I 
 will take Hannah Leach with me if you do not 
 mind, and go home and arrange it from there." 
 
 "Certainly, but say nothing to anybody. I can 
 trust you. I am so thankful that I can trust your 
 wisdom and discretion ;" and she kissed her. She could 
 feel Sidney trembling as she returned the kiss, and she 
 knew she alone must take the jewels home if harm 
 was not to come out of it. Taking the bundle under 
 a white shawl which she usual 1}' wore on evenings;
 
 Ix TIIK ZKXAXAS. 273 
 
 less Lot tlian this, she started out with Hannah, ami 
 they were soon at their own Lome. After greeting 
 her motlier she went straight to her o\vn room and 
 opened a box and took out a dark cotton sari that had 
 been given her by one of the rich high caste women 
 she had visited. Folding it around her she brought 
 it up over her head and looked -in the glass. She 
 was dark and regular-featured, and no one would 
 suspect in any light that she was not a native in that 
 dress. A pair of dark eyes and 'a sari will transform 
 anyone into a high caste native lady. She went out 
 the opposite side from the servants' 1 houses and slipped 
 through a hole in the wall, and then, with a swift rush 
 through a dark narrow lane, she was in a native quarter; 
 then another narrow lane, and she struck a broad 
 street. This she had to cross. She did it fearfully, but 
 sa\v no one, and passed on down another dark narrow 
 lane and turned a corner, and was in still another. 
 All along were natives half asleep on their char- 
 pais, with their sheets drawn quite over their heads. 
 She had slipped on some old soft shoes that made little 
 sound, and she glided along like a dark shadow. Some 
 times a man turned on his bed, but she was out of 
 sight before his sheet was pulled off, and on she went, 
 her heart making to her startled ears more noise than 
 her feet. And then she was at the house. Turning 
 
 o 
 
 to the right she thought the lane would bring her to 
 
 O O O 
 
 the side of the courtyard, where a wide-spreading pipul 
 tree near the gate she had always entered would 
 shade her, and between which and the wall she hoped 
 to drop her burden quietly and unnoticed, But going 
 on she was appalled to find she ha;l miscalculated and 
 was on the opposite side. Her heart stood still as she
 
 274 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 peered over the wall and saw people moving about 
 hurriedly with chirags in their hands, and by their light 
 exploring the corners of the courtyard, and then Si- 
 tara's mother and the servant passed out at the gate. 
 Now she saw that she would surely have been dis 
 covered had she come out as she had intended. 
 
 When their footfalls quite died away she hurried 
 around to the back of the house, raised herself on the 
 wall, dropped the precious parcel close between the 
 wall and tree, and then softly fled away, back through 
 the dark lanes into her own room, unmissed and un 
 discovered. Here she sank on the floor, pulled off her 
 sari, gasping with fright and loss of breath, and here 
 her sister, wondering at her long absence, found her. 
 As soon as possible she forced herself to go back, talk 
 a little with her mother, and then on back to the old 
 palace to relieve Sidney of her apprehensions.
 
 SlTAKA. 275 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SITARA. 
 
 A FTER Mary Harris had gone with the parcel Sid- 
 j\_ ney took a chair and a palm-leaf fan and went 
 out on the terrace where Lily Jalians, the other ze 
 nana teacher, was sitting in the murky darkness. They 
 sat in silence, trying in vain to get cool and to rest; 
 but every moment the air seemed closer and heavier. 
 Finally Sidney said: 
 
 "Come, let us go up on the roof; it may not be 
 quite so hot, and it is possible that there the air may 
 be moving a little. We surely cannot sleep to-night 
 unless we can get cooler; and no sleep means work 
 so poorly done that it would better be left undone." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Mellen," which was the only answer 
 this girl ever gave to any suggestion or request. 
 Had Sidney told her to go up and throw herself off 
 the roof she would have answered, " Yes, Miss Mel 
 len," in the same soft, low tone, and, what is more, she 
 would have done it. At least Sidney used sometimes 
 to say this to herself a little impatiently. They went 
 across the terrace, up a narrow, dark stairway, through 
 a room open to the air on all sides, across another 
 open terrace, then through a little door that led up 
 another narrow little stairway which brought them out 
 upon the flat roof of the palace. Sidney drew a long 
 breath as she took one of the chairs always there.
 
 276 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " This is better," she said ; " I always feel better 
 here nearer God ; the great vile city is so far be 
 low and the stars seem so kindly ; one can forget 
 many troubles and disappointments up^here." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Mellen." 
 
 They stood a moment looking away across the round 
 dark clumps of foliage, with the spire of the church 
 breaking their monotony in the foreground, to the 
 sky in the west, where was still a pale clear light 
 against which the domes of the old tombs showed in 
 grim dark masses. All was perfectly still ; not a 
 breath of air, not a leaf, not a twig moved ; the darkness, 
 so heavy and suffocating, seeming to transfix the trees 
 beyond the power of anything but the mighty mon 
 soons to stir them ; but the time for these beneficent 
 wet winds was not near, and people were hardly yet 
 allowing themselves to long for them. 
 
 Then came a woman, saying : 
 
 " The Bara Sahib's gari has corne and the Bari Mem 
 asks if you will see her ? " 
 
 " Of course. Give her my best salaams and ask 
 her, if not too weary, to come here where it is less hot." 
 
 A few minutes later Mrs. Clinton came toiling np 
 and sank exhausted into a chair. While fanning her 
 and waiting for her to recover her breath Sidney saw 
 with throbbing heart a tall form, too slight for the 
 Bishop, emerge from the door and come toward them 
 through the darkness. Carnton, for it was really he, 
 took her hand as he asked tho u mal question : 
 
 " How are you standing this terrible heat ? " 
 . "Fairly well, I think, but there are so many other 
 things to think of I can hardly tell ; I have not time 
 to stop and inquire of myself how I feel."
 
 SlTARA. 277 
 
 " "Well, I can tell you," said Mrs. Clinton, languidly, 
 : ~ I saw Sunday evening at the church that some one 
 must take you in hand and look after you, or soon 
 there would be only a shadow left. Don't you know 
 how thin you are growing?" 
 
 "Am I? " said Sidney, absently. She was trying 
 lo conjecture with confused head why he had come 
 to see her after marked avoidance of her for months ; 
 and, more than this, why a return of the old, protect 
 ing, sympathetic manner why? 
 
 "Yes," said Car n ton, with more feeling apparent 
 in his voice than he wanted, "yes, you are thin and 
 careworn, and " in a lower tone " it cannot fail to 
 make your friends anxious. AVhy " half impatiently, 
 as she made no answer " will you bear everybody's 
 burden and forget that your iirst duty is to yourself? " 
 
 Still Sidney said nothing. It was sweet, danger 
 ously sweet, to be so chided by him, to know that he 
 thought or cared, even though he might again relapse 
 into coldness. 
 
 " If people really wish to commit suicide why do 
 they not do it quickly, and not give their friends 
 months of lingering anxiety ? " said Mrs. Clinton. " This 
 sounds shocking, but it seems to me that some of 
 you really are determined to kill yourselves with 
 work." 
 
 'There were some other people, not long ago, who 
 gave their friends anxiety in that same line," said 
 Carnton, with quiet meaning, ''and now they not 
 only have reformed, but are trying to reform others." 
 
 "Yes, I acknowledge it," said Mrs. Clinton, with a 
 little laugh ; "it was foolish, and I want other people 
 to be wiser."
 
 2TS THK BISHOP'S CONVERSION*. 
 
 Sidney was wondering if -it would not be possible 
 to get his opinion on the especial matter she had in 
 hand, whether he would think she had done wisely or 
 whether he would say she might have done differently. 
 The longing for his sympathy and approval was so 
 strong that she felt she must have it. Had it 
 been possible she would have confided the whole mat 
 ter to him. But it occurred to her, happily, that 
 the topic assigned for the next missionary conference 
 had a bearing on this very point. The point to be 
 considered was the advisability of ordaining women 
 that they might baptize converts in the zenanas, but it 
 would cover much ground and many points that were 
 always arising in their work, and on which different 
 people held different opinions, and would be thor 
 oughly discussed. She said, abruptly : 
 
 " The missionary conference comes on next week. 
 Are you both prepared to give decided opinions on 
 the question chosen for discussion?" 
 
 " What is it?" asked Mrs. Clinton. 
 
 " The ordination of women," answered Camion, 
 quickly, " and I for one " 
 
 " Yes, we know you ' for one,' or two or three, if 
 possible, object," said Mrs. Clinton. " We know you 
 object for two reasons, but the principal one is that 
 you dislike the idea of women usurping authority. 
 You would like all women to be household goddesses 
 and find their sphere of action in the home circle. I 
 agree with you in theory, but it makes me a radical 
 advocate of woman's rights to hear a man state my 
 belief for me, to lay down the law for us ; so I always 
 try to anticipate him if possible, for I really do not 
 want to be forced to believe women should vote."
 
 SlTAKA. 279 
 
 They laughed a little, 'and Carnton said : 
 
 "That is rather too complex for a dull brain to 
 comprehend, but yon forgot to state my other reasons. 
 It seems a sort of interference in family life. Gen 
 erally speaking, it must be best for the women to wait 
 until they can be baptized openly; there can be few 
 cases where it would be well to do anything to sep 
 arate them from their families." 
 
 "But," said Sidney, "if a woman cannot live a 
 Christian life in her own home, or if her life is in 
 danger, and she of her own accord separates herself 
 from her family, what can we do ? Must we turn her 
 back to death, or a life of moral death \ " 
 
 " Xever. In such a case there is only one thing to 
 do, and that is to give help, as we must always when 
 a human being comes to us for succor ; I, of course, 
 was not referring to a case of that kind.'' 
 
 " Even though it bring trouble and suspicion on 
 ourselves should we shelter her?" 
 
 "What has that to do with it? If it is the right 
 thing to do, then it is the only thing we can do, and 
 the consequences are with God, and not with us." 
 
 She had her answer now, and if he should hear of 
 her being unsuccessful in her work, or being talked 
 about in the city, he would remember and know that 
 what she did was not rashly done, but with an earnest 
 wish to do the right. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Clinton, " I cannot see why these 
 poor creatures should not always be encouraged to 
 
 A t/ O 
 
 leave their wretched homes, where they are looked 
 upon in the light of servants, or at the best as chil 
 dren, and at the worst beyond all imagination." 
 " There are many sides to the question," said Cam-
 
 2SO THK BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 ton, gravely ; 4i it is not a good thing to interfere ami 
 break up families; there is nothing for the women to 
 do and nowhere to put them, and it must in many 
 cases be a better tiling for them to learn to live a 
 noble, unselfish life in the family, even though it be 
 hard; but is it not time we were going? And will 
 you kindly explain our errand to Miss Mellen ? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose we must go some time," rising ; " I 
 have got in the way of feeling as though I can never 
 get up out of my chair when I have once sat down ; 
 but what was I going to say? my memory seems as 
 lazy as the rest of me. O, yes ; I want you to come 
 with us for a long drive to-morrow evening. ~\Ve are 
 going out to Bibiapur to see if we cannot find some 
 air to breathe that is clean, even if it does come out 
 of a baker's oven. 1 am going to take some sand 
 wiches with me, so \ve will not have to hurry back, 
 and you are not to say no." 
 
 "Air from a baker's oven " was the only expression 
 Mrs. Clinton ever seemed to think conveyed any idea 
 of the heat they were undergoing. 
 
 "I will not say no, for I shall like it- very much 
 indeed," said Sidney. 
 
 "My husband has a meeting," Mrs. Clinton went 
 on, "for English-speaking natives, but Mr. Carnton 
 will come with us. In fact, it was he who proposed 
 it, and I am only going along for propriety/' 
 
 Sidney had hardly said she would like to go when 
 she remembered it would not be well to leave the 
 house, unless she was obliged to do so, while nothing 
 was settled about Sitara. To go away three or four 
 hours would be unsafe at this time, and she hardly 
 noticed what Mrs. Clinton was saying, except that
 
 SlTARA. 281 
 
 Carnton was also going, and the vision of this long 
 drive with them and the quiet hour by the river was 
 tempting and made her for a moment wish it could 
 be arranged, and that she might leave Mary Harris in 
 charge of the poor child down stairs. But instantly 
 she knew it could not be, and she said in a voice made 
 cold or at least Carnton thought it cold and stern, by 
 her disappointment : 
 
 " After all, I am afraid I cannot go, much as I 
 would like it." 
 
 "Nonsense," said Mrs. Clinton, "you must go. 
 You must get a little rest and change, otherwise you 
 will have to give up altogether and go off to the moun 
 tains." 
 
 " Xo,"-she said, decidedly ; " I cannot, and that ends 
 the matter. The demands of my work will not allow 
 it." ' 
 
 Mrs. Clinton was surprised at the cold and abrupt 
 way she spoke. It was not like her, and she could not 
 account for it, unless she wished Carnton to under 
 stand distinctly it was because he had planned the 
 drive she would not go, and that she wished him to 
 understand definitely that " the demands of her work" 
 were more to her than his wishes or even his love. 
 
 " Well," said Mrs. Clinton, to cover his defeat, 
 "then we must ask Helen May. She needs a little 
 rest, and Kate Deane also." 
 
 Sidney went down with them, and Carnton's cold 
 "good night" told her that he would return, as she 
 feared, to his old unkind, distant manner, and she won 
 dered impatiently what kind of person he could be, 
 so full of moods ; it was not like a man, and of 
 all men lea^t like him. She would have liked to 
 20
 
 282 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 give them a hint of the particular demands of her 
 work which would not allow her to go, but there was 
 Lily Jahans sitting quietly in the dark, and, besides, the 
 air of India is full of invisible telephone wires that 
 carry all the smallest acts of the white people to the 
 millions of ears ever open to hear the worst of the 
 sahib log. 
 
 Sidney stood looking regretfully an instant after 
 them as they disappeared in the star-twilight, thinking 
 what it might have been to her hungry heart to have 
 thatlong evening near him, even if she only sat silent 
 and listened to his voice. Then she turned away 
 quickly and went down to Mary Harris, who was wait 
 ing for her. 
 
 " It is all right," said Mary, in a low tone, for the 
 bearer was fastening the lower doors near them. 
 " But, Miss Mellen, you must not be surprised if this 
 leads to great trouble. I know these people, and we 
 must be prepared for anything." 
 
 Sidney was startled by the seriousness of her tone. 
 Her inexperience had assured her there could be 
 nothing serious to fear if the girl had no valuables 
 with her. 
 
 " Why should they make trouble ? If the man 
 comes I will simply tell him the facts of the case 
 that .she has been married before, and rather than be 
 a party to deceiving him she came to me of her 
 own accord ; that I did not suggest it to her ; that I 
 did not even know she was coming until that day she 
 came ; that I did not wish her to come, though I am 
 glad now that she is away from them." 
 
 "Dear Miss Mellen, he will not believe you, and if 
 he did he will pretend he does not, and the mother
 
 SlTARA. 283 
 
 do you think she will easily give up a home for her 
 self, which she will have if she can marry Sitara to 
 this man, or the price she will get for her if she can 
 not marry her ? ' ' 
 
 " But what can we do? ? ' asked Sidney. "I could 
 not tell her to go back to that horrible life. When 
 she came do you think I should have told her to go 
 back ? " 
 
 "No, indeed," was the answer. "It was right, I 
 am sure, to give her shelter. What else are we work 
 ing for but to help the oppressed and distressed ?" 
 
 Mary Harris was one of the many helpful Eurasian 
 girls educated in mission schools who have given 
 devoted, earnest service to the mission work, and in 
 whose judgment all have confidence. Sidney bade 
 he; 1 good night and went away to her room. She had 
 been longing to go before, but had waited, as she 
 wanted no appearance of hurry to be perceptible, but 
 to have everything go on as usual. 
 
 Passing through her own room quietly she lifted 
 the purdah which hung over the little door and went in. 
 
 Sitara, sitting on the floor with her head on her 
 arms and her arms on a chair, was sound asleep, like 
 the child she was; her chuddar falling back re 
 vealed the pretty face and thick shining bkick hair; 
 one little foot was extended from beneath her skirt, 
 and on one ankle was a large round spot like a blister. 
 
 Sidney stood looking at her sweet, innocent face, 
 and she said to herself, " Mary Harris and Mr. Cam- 
 ton are right. We are here to help the helpless, and, 
 no matter what comes. I am glad I can help her, and i 
 will now rest on this thought and nut swerve, no mat 
 ter what disaster comes to me."
 
 284 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 As she moved away Sitara started up in fright, star 
 ing at Sidney in bewilderment and fear; only for a 
 moment, however, and then she rose and threw herself 
 into the arms of her friend. 
 
 " O, Miss Sahib, I had forgotten where I was and 
 what had happened, and I had great fear." Sidney 
 could feel her heart beat, and she was trembling in 
 her arms like a frightened bird. 
 
 "Yon need not fear; yon are among friends who 
 will care for yon and not allow yon to suffer harm.'' 
 
 "I know, I know. Did I not go to sleep without 
 fear the first time since my mother took me to Mo- 
 hnn Lai's house? Did I not know that my dear 
 Miss Sahib would make all things right? But you 
 will not let them take me back ? " and again she trem 
 bled and fluttered in Sidney's arms. 
 
 " No, no ; but " trying to turn her attention from 
 herself "what is that sore on your foot? Did you 
 hurt yourself?" 
 
 " No, no ; Mohun Lai made it." 
 
 " Mohun Lai ? How ? " asked Sidney. 
 
 " With an iron." 
 
 "With an iron!" she repeated, in horror; "did he 
 strike you ? " 
 
 " No ; the iron was hot." 
 
 " Look at me, Sitara. Tell me the truth." 
 
 The soft eyes looked into hers v/onderingly. 
 
 " Why should I not tell the truth ?" she said, sim 
 ply. " lie cannot find me here if you take care of 
 me." 
 
 " Sitara, is this true ? Did Mohun Lai take a hot 
 iron and burn you, knowing what he was doing '. " 
 
 " Surely ? why not ? "
 
 SlTARA. 285 
 
 "But why did lie do this," asked Sidney, sternly. 
 She wtis bewildered at the indifferent way the girl re 
 garded the wound. It spoke of familiarity with 
 worse things than burns. 
 
 Sitara drew the folds of her chuddar over her face, 
 and her head went lower and lower, and she half 
 whispered : 
 
 " He came when my mother was away and and 
 I did not please him, and because of his anger he made 
 the iron hot to punish me." 
 
 Sidney was appalled. Then these things were true 
 of which she was always hearing vague hints, and of 
 which she now and then read accounts in the English 
 papers, given in no vague terms, of men beating their 
 child-wives, starving them, burning them with irons, 
 and of their dying from all kinds of injuries. Of 
 course, she had believed these accounts, but she had 
 not realized what it really meant until she saw this 
 pretty girl shivering and crouching with shame at 
 the very thought of what she had undergone. 
 
 " And, Miss Sahib" gaining courage as she felt 
 Sidney's arms about her Hie told me he could kill 
 me, that he would do so unless I obeyed him, and no 
 one would know, as it was his own house we were in, 
 and the deep, deep well by the house was also his and 
 had no voice ; and, Miss Sahib, I tell you, his eyes 
 were red and glaring as the eyes of the tiger in the 
 jungle." She was trembling so much with fear that 
 she could hardly speak, but with great effort she went 
 on : " lie came always when my mother was gone, and 
 the servant, who also feared my mother and this evil 
 man, thought with me that my mother knew he came, 
 that he had found out I was a widow and now would
 
 286 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 not marry me, but would buy me, and that my mother 
 would allow the arrangement." 
 
 The last words were so low that her voice could 
 just be heard and the words only guessed at, and then, 
 except for her sobs, there was silence a silence of 
 fear and horror on her listener's part, fear for the girl 
 and horror that a mother, a mother could do this hide 
 ous thing ! 
 
 Suddenly the girl started up with a new fear, as 
 Sidney made no answer, and throwing herself at her 
 friend's feet she clasped them in her little trembling 
 hands. 
 
 "O, my dear Miss Sahib, you will not let him 
 come? You promised, you promised!' 1 '' The last 
 words were almost a shriek. 
 
 " Hush, my child, nothing shall harm you. Do not 
 fear. God will care for you if you put your trust in 
 him. Now lie do\vn on this mattress and go to sleep, 
 for I must go to sleep myself, and get strength for my 
 work to-morrow; you will be alone, but you need 
 riot fear, as this room is a secret drawer; even I had 
 forgotten it, and only thought to hide the ugly 
 door and keep out draughts in the cold weather by 
 a curtain ; but " turning back " when have you 
 had food?" 
 
 "Not for days. It was thus that I could make my 
 mother fear, because if I died it was only that she 
 would lose the money for me."" 
 
 "Then I must <ret you something: will YOU eat 
 
 O !/ O * 
 
 our food ? " 
 
 There was no answer. She did not like to be rude, 
 and yet there was the old iron-bound caste to make 
 her shrink.
 
 SITARA. 287 
 
 "Did you never eat with the other women at Miss 
 Whitlow's and with Shew Pershad ? He was a Chris 
 tian." 
 
 " Never ; always alone at Miss Whitlow Sahib's, 
 and after him when with Shew Pershad ; it is not 
 our custom to eat with men." 
 
 "But think a moment. Did he give you no sweets 
 or any part of his food 2 " 
 
 "Sweets, yes, when we were on the railway train, 
 and white English bread, but that was different." 
 
 " No ; if you took bread from his hand your caste 
 was broken then, and now it will not matter." 
 
 Sitara was silent. It was a shock to her that no 
 person of white skin can ever comprehend. Every 
 instinct "of her nature was against her eating with 
 Christians, as with one of lower caste. 
 
 "I will bring you food, for if you die you well 
 know they would tell it in all the zenanas that I 
 killed you." 
 
 " Then I will eat," she said, simply. 
 
 Having brought her some bread and butter, the 
 only thing she could get without being noticed, she 
 kissed her and went away with a heavy yet thankful 
 heart thankful that she had not entirely refused to 
 let the girl come, and thankful that the poor thing 
 was out of the clutches of those people. She could 
 only say over and over again to herself, 
 
 "What a mother! what a mother!" 
 
 The next day was a trying one. The heat was 
 greater or her strength was less, but the zenanas all 
 had to be visited jnst the same, only she intended, on 
 Sitara' s account, to make the visits shorter, though 
 the child was quite happy in the little room with some
 
 288 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 bright bits of cloth and a doll, whose clothes were a 
 never-ending source of interest. 
 
 Sidney found the doors of two houses closed, and 
 no sound came when she knocked. It did not look 
 as though all was right, for they were houses where 
 she was regularly expected. A little anxious she 
 went on to another, a favorite place, because the 
 women there were more intelligent and the man, the 
 head of the house, decidedly sensible and liberal in 
 his opinions. The door was shut, but in answer to 
 the usual " May I come ? " a voice said : 
 
 "We are all sick and cannot see you to-day." 
 
 " But if you are sick I can at least read you good 
 words, and I can also tell the Doctor Miss Sahib, and 
 she will come and make you well." 
 
 She could not believe they did not wish to see her, 
 for they had been so affectionate and bright and so 
 earnest in their efforts to improve themselves and 
 their homes. 
 
 " No, no," was the answer in lower tones ; " we are 
 forbidden to read any more;" and very low, with 
 mouth near the door, " We are sorry ! our hearts are 
 fallen down with sorrow, but we are forbidden." 
 
 Sidney could echo her words; her heart, also, had 
 " fallen down." The walls must have heard and told 
 the air that a girl wished to become a Christian and 
 had run away from her home. How else could these 
 people, so far from Mohun Lai's house, know, and 
 this was only the beginning of a bitter trial, she now 
 knew ; for if these people who loved her and had so 
 much confidence in her would give her up because 
 they had only heard idle rumors and this must be 
 all they could have heard then others who cared less
 
 Si I AHA. 
 
 for her and for her teaching would also close their 
 doors against lier. 
 
 She went back to her wooden gari, the smell of its 
 paint blistering and burning in the sun making her 
 sick and faint. She got in with difficulty and swung 
 the wooden doors to with a wish to shut out the whole 
 world the world of her work in which she had put 
 her heart; the world that was for the first time show 
 ing its thorny side to her. The distance from the 
 ground to her room seemed too long to be traversed, 
 but she pulled herself up by the railing, and when in 
 her room threw herself on the bed to rest a few mo 
 ments before going to Sitaraand to try to think; but 
 her head was throbbing, and she could only rest. 
 Soon rising, she went out and got more food, and, tak 
 ing it to Sitara, found her tranquil and happy, having 
 made two whole garments for the beloved doll. 
 
 That night about midnight a gari drove up, and 
 Mary Harris, who slept in the arm of the old palace 
 that stretched out to the native houses, heard the 
 chaukedar say to some one in the gari : 
 
 4i Go away, you rascals. We are not women- 
 thieves. Why should you come here with such lie 
 words ? " 
 
 "But I tell you," was the answer, i; you are ras 
 cals, and your fathers before you and your ancestors 
 for all generations. The girl has been stolen, and we 
 hive eaten great offense." 
 
 Then the answer: 
 
 ' Your ancestors were inhabitants of the jungle, 
 and you will return to the jungle in the body of a 
 jackal when yon die, and I will waste no more time 
 with you. Only that I may sleep now. when all peo-
 
 290 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 pie of honest disposition are sleeping, I will tell you 
 again that the Miss Sahib conies and goes alone, shut 
 up in her gari, and wants none of the low caste women 
 of your house. All these days do I not sit at the 
 gate and see who goes out and in, and would I not 
 know if any outsiders came in ? And none at all have 
 come but sahib people, and even your arrogance 
 would hardly declare that you .were of the sahib 
 caste." 
 
 This sort of conversation, called "'giving gali," in 
 tensified a hundredfold, went on for some time. Fi 
 nally the man in the gari said, as he drove away : 
 
 " I will go to the magistrate, and then with the 
 paper from him I will find out whether or not you 
 are the outcast servant of a woman-thief." 
 
 There was some conversation among the servants 
 who had been aroused, and then all again was quiet. 
 
 Mary could only hope that Miss Mellen had not 
 heard the noise and would know nothing of it until 
 morning, at least; but she slept little, wondering what 
 could be done, but perfectly sure that the man would 
 return with a warrant. 
 
 The next morning, as Sidney was going out of the 
 gate, two men in police uniform, with fierce-looking 
 pugris on their heads, came with a paper from the 
 magistrate, which was, as Sidney feared (for she had 
 been warned by Mary of the man's threat), a sum 
 mons for her to appear before the court and show 
 that she had not stolen or abducted Sitara, the child 
 of one Moon i a. 
 
 Sidney felt the blood leave her face as she said 
 briefly that she would be there at the required time. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton heard of this, for before many hours
 
 SiTARA. 291 
 
 it was all over the mission, and, indeed, well over Luck- 
 now, and offered to go to court with her, which was 
 a great comfort to Sidney. And all the mission peo 
 ple during the two days that intervened before she 
 was to appear came with expressions of sympathy and 
 offers of assistance. Carnton alone did not come, and 
 she thought it cowardly of him, and hardened her 
 heart against him. . 
 
 The magistrate wished to make it as little embar 
 rassing for her as possible, and perhaps shortened the 
 inquiry that she might not be kept in suspense. But 
 it was not pleasant ; the dirty court room, the crowds 
 of staring natives, the answering of questions, even 
 though- kindly and respectfully put. 
 
 She was cleared of any intent of abduction, but 
 Sitara, poor little Sitara, was consigned to her moth 
 er's care, as she was under age, and was taken shriek 
 ing out of the court room, and the last glimpse of her 
 Sidney had was just before the gari door closed on 
 her. when she was sobbing too violently to see the 
 loving, longing eyes resting on her; and thus the child 
 went back into the impenetrable darkness and shadow 
 of native life. 
 
 The magistrate, seeing Sidney's despairing face, 
 said : 
 
 " It is the law, and I can only execute it, though I 
 am firmly convinced in this case the law is not just, 
 but," in the usual cry, " what can /do?" 
 
 Her work was almost stopped, as from the first day 
 she had known it would be. It had been told from 
 house to house, this story of abduction ; it had been 
 told at the bathing ghats as the women put the finish- 
 iiiL>- touches to their toilets ; and it was told at wed-
 
 292 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 ding feasts as a warning to foolish people who would 
 trust the strange Miss Sahibs in their houses, and 
 servants, as they chatted on the road with their babies 
 out for an airing, or sat around their food at night, 
 told it. 
 
 Though many men knew that Sitarahad run away to 
 escape from her mother and this man Mohun Lai, and 
 also knew of their cruel treatment, it was not well to 
 let the women think this was the reason of her flight ; 
 it was better to let them think the Miss Mellon Sahib, 
 in her eagerness to make Christians, stole her, impris 
 oned her until she was starving, and then gave her food 
 when she was too hungry to refuse, and thus broke 
 her caste ; also that she had used some sort of witch 
 craft by which she had cast a spell over her, and even 
 though she had come back to her mother it was as 
 one possessed of an evil spirit. Many a heart stopped 
 beat in sy from fear, manv a mother vowed that never 
 
 O v 
 
 should the hateful Miss Sahibs bring their witchcraft 
 into their houses again ; so from one and another house 
 Sidney went and found each one shut, and no response 
 to her call for admittance. Now and then some of 
 the women that had been visited for years would ask 
 her in timidly, and perhaps shyly put forth questions 
 which she was glad to hear, for it gave her a chance 
 to explain. But perhaps the next time she went she 
 would again be refused admittance, and the nervous 
 and debilitated condition of her system and the great 
 heat made all this even more crushing than it would 
 
 O 
 
 have been had she been well. Mary Harris warned 
 her to be careful, and begged her to stay away from 
 her work or go away for a change of air, as it was 
 quite possible that her life was not safe.
 
 SlTARA. 293 
 
 13ut Sidney replied, sadly : 
 
 " I am not. here to save my life. I must go on as 
 long as there is one house open, that I may prove that 
 all they are saying is not true; but" and the tears 
 rolled down her cheeks " I did not think there were 
 so few of all the people for whom I have been spend 
 ing all my life, and whom I thought loved me, so few 
 who were true to me and who really trusted me. 
 What could I have done but let that child stay with 
 me ? It has brought disaster on my work, but I am 
 sure it was right. It must have been right." 
 
 She was not now burdened with work, nor were 
 Matain Gini nor Hannah Leach nor Mary Harris and 
 Lily Jahans. So they spent an hour each day talking 
 over the'best plans for work whether it was best to 
 teach, in any house where they would not be allowed 
 to teach the Bible, and whether it was worth while 
 to spend time teaching the women to sew when there 
 was enough Bible-teaching to fill up all the hours. 
 And then they had long Bible lessons, bringing out 
 new thoughts and new ways of presenting old truths. 
 Sidney had often wished for this, but their time was 
 so taken up with teaching that they could only have 
 their lessons once a week, except, of course, the pre 
 paratory prayer and Bible lesson for the day's work. 
 
 Then they also went out to the villages near Lucknow, 
 which had been heretofore unvisited. The distance 
 was long and consequently exhausting, yet they were 
 welcomed, and as the days went by they grew cheer 
 ful again, though Sidney could not get over the sense 
 of wrong and injury because her native friends had 
 given her up so readily. There was the worst sting 
 possible in this to her the hardest thing a conscien-
 
 294: THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 tious person can have to bear the feeling that her 
 work must have been faulty and imperfect, else she 
 would have had a stronger hold on them after giving 
 up years of her life to serving them. 
 
 Then she had another thing to weigh on her. Carn 
 ton was distant and cool. She had felt sure of a little 
 sympathy, but there was none, and she felt lost and 
 alone and forlorn. She knew he loathed any publicity 
 for women, and she knew he did not like, abstractly, 
 the thought of anv woman in whom he was interested 
 
 O ' 
 
 ti> live alone, or to have a work of her own that made 
 her in any way prominent, though he said he honored 
 and revered the single ladies that were in mission 
 work, and confessed that their work was even more 
 important than his own. 
 
 Knowing this she only thought that he could not 
 be friendly with a woman whose name was in the 
 mouth of native and European alike throughout the 
 whole city, and, in fact, throughout the Northwest. 
 It Was not noble in him ; this she acknowledged, yet 
 she could not find a harsh thought in her heart for 
 him. She only felt it as an added burden, and won 
 dered sometimes if there could be any other calamity 
 in store for her, and, if there were, whether it could 
 add anything to her suffering. Her pretty color had 
 long ago faded, her mouth drooped in a pathetic way, 
 and yet there was a courage and a patient endurance in 
 her face which had never been there before, and which 
 made Mrs. Clinton take her in her arms and say, 
 " My poor child, this is too much for you to bear.'' 
 " Yes, too much for me to bear alone," she an 
 swered, with quivering lips ; ''but I am not bearing 
 it alone ; I could not."
 
 A CHUUCII FOR EXGLISII-SI'EAKIMJ I'EOPLE.
 
 DANGEROUS ENEMIES. 295 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 DANGEROUS ENEMIES. 
 
 hostile tribes on the frontier of the English or 
 _L American housewife are not many, nor are they 
 strategic in their operations. They are known ; their 
 methods of attack are also known, and, though ever 
 present, they yield to a persistent fire of brooms, 
 dusters, and scrubbing-brushes, backed by a few acces 
 sories. 
 
 But in India, though the warfare may be long and 
 the ground well contested, the housewife is ever on 
 
 o 
 
 the losing side ; and if she be wise she finally yields 
 to opposing forces, both of nature and human nature, 
 glad to save a remnant of the sweet temper and 
 pleasant disposition upon which she had erst prided 
 herself. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton arrived in the winter, but hardly had 
 she stopped shivering in her big, empty house when 
 the lu began to blow. 
 
 Now the lii is not a wind to be regarded lightly, 
 either from its character or its effects. It is hot, 
 dry, and dust-laden, and though it is not, as tradition 
 has it, immediately fatal in its effects, it often amounts 
 to the same thing in the end. It begins in the morn 
 ing and howls steadily all day. While it is going all 
 doors and windows are closed, and after a week or 
 
 two corked, for it shrinks everything shrinkable. It 
 21
 
 296 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 is so full of sand that even though doors are closed 
 and corked it is possible to write one's name on any 
 smooth surface an hour after the article in question 
 has been dusted. 
 
 Not only does it fill the house and every thing 
 therein with dust, but everybody seems permeated 
 with it. Eyelids grate on the eyeball as they wink ; 
 nostrils are dry and parched ; the throat feels as 
 though lined with sandpaper, and even the temper 
 seems to be so full of it that only a state of constant 
 irritation is possible. In the wake of this wind are 
 neuralgia, toothache, rheumatism, croup, fever, and 
 general leanness of soul. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton had put up the few draperies and 
 pictures that she had brought and bought, but they 
 were only very small oases in the dreary desert of her 
 whitewashed rooms, and sometimes she had been 
 tempted to wish the missionary allowance were a lit 
 tle larger, that she might be able to make the house a 
 little less bare ; especially did she wish for carpets, 
 as the matting was not only very coarse, but it wore 
 out so very quickly that she saw there would not in 
 the end be much economy in having it. But after 
 the lu began to blow, her longing for more furniture, 
 except in the matter of carpets, ceased, for every extra 
 picture and drapery and curtain was only a, trap for 
 dust and other and worse things. Her first disen 
 chantment was brought about by the beautiful skin of 
 a peafowl that she had bought in a fit of extrava 
 gance. It was not very wild extravagance, as she 
 paid only one rupee for it, but she counted every 
 pice with a nervousness that she had never before in 
 her life experienced, for, no matter how well and
 
 DANGEROUS KM;.MIK>. 297 
 
 easily she thought she was going through the month, 
 there were so many unexpected incidentals that she 
 had found herself getting in debt. This was some 
 thing that had never happened to her before in her 
 life; and she did not mean to buy an y unnecessary 
 thing, but this peafowl's plumage was so beautiful that 
 she could not resist it. It was simply the whole skin 
 ready cured for stuffing. Driving in a nail she hung 
 it in a bare side of the room where the light fell full 
 on the brilliant iridescence of green and gold, and 
 delighted her eyes many a day when she was too ex 
 hausted to read or think. 
 
 One morning, being up before the sweeper had 
 swept, she saw on the matting underneath where the 
 skin hung a little shower of feathers, and, with a sink 
 ing heart, examined it only to find it full of larva 1 , 
 and though she had it thoroughly cleaned and pow 
 dered with arsenic, yet she took no more pleasure in 
 it, for there were apt to be bits of feathers now and 
 then floating down from it. Finally it was removed 
 and given to the servant's children, who built little 
 gardens with the long feathers in the hot sand. 
 
 The next disappointment was in her steamer-rug. 
 It was such a soft, pretty rug, and with it she had 
 draped the old cane-seated couch which helped eke 
 out the scanty supply of chairs in her parlor. She 
 had been ill a week, and when coming around again 
 as she dusted a little here and there she found it fairly 
 filled with tiny black burs that eat at the rate of ten 
 knots to the hour. Holding the rug up toward the 
 door she was appalled to see daylight through it at a 
 hundred points. 
 
 The third trial was a bit of gold and terra cotta
 
 298 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 colored embroidery she bought while with Mrs. Mac 
 kenzie. She had draped it over an unsightly air hole 
 between the dining room and parlor. It \vas of cotton, 
 and she had no fears for it, but this too was riddled 
 out by the shining slimy fish-moth, the bete noire of 
 all good housewives. 
 
 Most moths are fairly respectable in their way, and 
 have a choice of food, keeping strictly to one diet, but 
 this creature is a perfect scavenger, taking wool, cot 
 ton, and linen, and especially does it delight in starched 
 clothes, in which most people of India abound; but 
 more than all the hatred and aversion lavished on 
 these moths is that poured in spirit on the heads of 
 the Indian crickets; not the big, brown, homely cricket 
 that sits by the chimney-corner and sings, and inspires 
 teakettles to sing also, but a little pale yellow crea 
 ture, whose motto is, 
 
 " The cricket who eats and hops away 
 May live to eat and hop another day ; " 
 
 and perhaps this may be the reason why he, more than 
 all other foes of the housekeeper, is the most dreaded. 
 Even an occasional cobra in the bath room, or many 
 scorpions under the matting, or centipedes dropping 
 from the ceiling, do not inspire the terror that the 
 cricket does when one finds he is in the house to stay. 
 He usually comes to stay when he does come, and 
 when firmly established in a house nothing short of 
 burning down the house will exterminate him, as he 
 thrives brilliantly on carbolic acid, kerosene oil, and 
 nitrate of silver. This is his first bad point, and his 
 second is the rapidity of his w r ork, which is in fact so 
 summary that it permits no interference whatever.
 
 DAXCKKOUS ENEMIES. 299 
 
 The first of his handiwork Mrs. Clinton saw was on 
 a new light-weight flannel coat of the Bishop's. He 
 had had it made and sent home, and wore it one after 
 noon. Taking it up the next morning he found one 
 sleeve and the back perforated. 
 
 The second specimen was rather a masterpiece in its 
 way. Mrs. Clinton had found her kid boots covered 
 with the green mold of ages one day after a month 
 of the rains. On inquiry she was told that they 
 should have been kept in a tin-lined box, but since 
 they had once been covered with mildew if she wished 
 to save them she would better have them blackened 
 every other day until the close of the rains, even if 
 she did not expect to wear them. So there was a row 
 of boots'and slippers to be blackened each day, and it 
 was the bearer's work, when he could not get the 
 sweeper to do it. 
 
 Looking at the kid boots and also a pair of Lillian's 
 one morning, she thought her eyes must have been 
 deceiving her ; but no, they were the same boots, but 
 every bit of the upper surface of the kid had been 
 gnawed off, leaving fantastically mottled purple 
 and white boots. She had no words sufficient to ex 
 press her indignation, so she said nothing, but the loss 
 was great, for she well knew that unless some miracle 
 was performed they would have no more kid boots 
 while they were missionaries. 
 
 AVhen she showed them to her husband she thought 
 I only say she tJioiujlif she heard him mutter 
 something about '" miserable vermin," and she had a 
 guilty sense of hoping it was true; for such remarks, 
 even by proxy, have a power of relief not to be de 
 spised.
 
 300 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 After Mrs. Clinton had found these crickets in her 
 best Saratoga trunk, and was told that it would never 
 be safe to put anything in it again, she offered a pice 
 for even- dead cricket brought to her. She gave out 
 a good many pice, but as the crickets did not dimin 
 ish in the rooms she began to examine the dead as 
 they were brought, and judged by the dried and with 
 ered appearance she had been paying over and over 
 again for the same old cricket. 
 
 However, she could not think of giving up her ex 
 pensive and nearly new trunk, and she exposed it open 
 to the sun when the thermometer stood at 170 de 
 grees for days, then had the lining taken out, and paste 
 made of flour mixed with two or three things said to be 
 deadly to all the insect tribe, and new lining bought ; 
 then a man came up from the bazar and worked two 
 days and lined it fairly well. She congratulated her 
 self on her economv and clever management until, 
 
 *< O 
 
 thinking one day she would fill it with winter clothing 
 she opened it and a half-dozen crickets hopped out, 
 and she found the lining a tissue of rags. This 
 was the straw that broke this housewife's back, 
 but the Bishop, though, he sighed sympathetically, 
 was not entirely discouraged until he, too, had his 
 Waterloo, 
 
 Dr. Thompson, who had been in the house before 
 him, asked him the day he was leaving, which was 
 the day before the Bishop entered the house, if he 
 might put his books in his care. The Bishop was 
 very glad indeed to have them, as he had felt it a 
 great privation to be without books for a year, 
 and one which he had contemplated with secret dis 
 may.
 
 DANGEROUS ENEMIES. 301 
 
 This did not prevent him resenting Dr. Thompson's 
 earnest request that they might be well cared for. 
 
 " Certainly," he said, a little dryly, " I really see no 
 reason why I should not take good care of them. I 
 have been accustomed to a fairly good library all my 
 life, and understand that good books need care." 
 
 Dr. Thompson looked a little doubtfully at him, 
 but said no more. 
 
 But when a boxwala one day offered him a book at 
 about a quarter of its cost, and when he saw Dr. 
 Thompson's name in the book, and saw that it was the 
 third volume of the History of England, and that this 
 boxwala had also one of Thompson's Gibbon's Rome, 
 he remembered that doubtful look on the good man's 
 face, and concluded that books in India require a kind 
 of preserving care of which he knew nothing, and 
 thereafter kept the bookcase locked, and carried the 
 key in his pocket. It was a tiresome process, and he 
 hated to have to unlock a door every time he wanted 
 a book of reference. 
 
 After the lit began to blow he found that even 
 though the bookcase was a good one the dust filtered 
 through to an extent that made him dread to touch 
 the books. 
 
 It was then that he and his wife succumbed to the 
 necessity of having a boy to dust and look after the 
 house generally ; but even with all the time and care 
 the bearer could give the Bishop found himself 
 getting peevish at the dust. When the rain came on the 
 books required much more care, for he found them mil 
 dewed inside and out, as though they were three hun 
 dred years old. The Bishcp was sad, because he knew 
 no one likes a musty, mildewed book, but every bright
 
 302 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 sunny day the bearer spread a rug out on tlie walk in 
 the sun arid placed the books open on it, and then sat 
 by them until they were dry, to prevent the necessity 
 of having to buy back any more from wandering box- 
 walas or peddlers. Of course this process was bad for 
 the books, but it stopped short of utter ruin. 
 
 One morning, as the three months' rainy season was 
 about half over, the Bishop was called into his study 
 by his wife. 
 
 " See here," she said, pointing to something on the 
 wall over a water-color picture that looked like a 
 huge spray of thin gray coral, " what do you sup 
 pose this is ? " 
 
 He came closer, climbed on a chair, touched one 
 end of it with his finger, when some of it crumbled 
 off, leaving a lot of little gray creatures running wildly 
 about. Looking at the back of the picture he found 
 it plastered over with mud. Then turning to the face 
 again he saw the creatures at work under the glass. 
 
 " Ah," he said, after a moment's pause, " these 
 must be the white ants of which we have heard so 
 much, and we have here ready : made Sir John Lub- 
 bock's plan of watching them under glass. See them! 
 They are organized like an army of sappers and min 
 ers; each one has his beat, and is relieved by the man 
 who had his place before him." 
 
 She looked and saw them march back and forth 
 across the white margin of bristol board, carrying 1 
 away bits of the Whatman's paper on which the sketch 
 was made. There was already a crescent-shaped hole 
 in the middle of the sky of the picture. 
 
 " This is indeed curious, but we would better put 
 a stop to it. Dr. Thompson will hardly like to have
 
 DANGEROUS ENEMIES. 303 
 
 this picture spoiled." But just then, glancing from 
 his post on the chair at the top of the bookcase, his 
 face whitened, and he jumped down, tore open the 
 hookcase, took out a hook, and, opening it. sank down 
 in a chair in despair. Fearing sudden illness his wife 
 rushed to him, but he could say nothing, and only 
 showed her the book in silent pain and disgust. He 
 had respect for all books, and felt it for the sake of 
 the books ; besides, he had these books in trust, and he 
 felt it much more from this fact. 
 
 His wife hastily took out book after book only to 
 find them completely honeycombed with little canals, 
 winding in and out without any apparent method, full 
 of dust. Qf course the books were completely ruined. 
 
 Again Mrs. Clinton thought she heard ecclesiastical 
 anathemas pronounced, but this time it was on the 
 " confounded country," and again she felt like saying, 
 "Those are my sentiments; please say it again," but 
 she did not dare. 
 
 There was some excuse for this good man. AVithin 
 the last week he had been tortured beyond endurance 
 by the various powers which seemed in league against 
 him. First, he had found a karait coiled on the wire of 
 the lantern kept burning in his bedroom. A light is 
 always kept at night, as snakes are said never to come 
 into a room where there is a light. The next morning 
 there was a huge cobra in his bath room, which wan 
 dered out while he was hunting a stick with which to 
 
 o 
 
 kill it. The advantage of being bitten by a karait in 
 stead of a cobra is somewhat, as the former is war 
 ranted to kill in twenty-eight minutes and the latter 
 in a half-hour. He had been bitten nearly mad by 
 mosquitoes, fleas, and katmals ; he had been startled
 
 304: THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 by huge muskrats running across his feet as he sat at 
 his desk, making the cold chills creep up his back, 
 thinking that a cobra was at lust about to finish him. 
 He had been worried in his bath by big ants; he had 
 had his tea flavored by little ants that were hidden 
 in the sugar, and his body had been the campagna for 
 a moving army of middle-sized ants. .He had thrust 
 his bare foot into a slipper and been given a chill by 
 touching one of the numerous little toads that come 
 in droves into the house in wet weather ; lie had had 
 a big lizard fall across his mouth from the celling 
 with a thud just as he was having his first morning 
 yawn. He had found his new silk umbrella, bought 
 in London, riddled by mice, his new coat perforated 
 by crickets, his steamer-rug cut up by moths, his 
 writing-desk of teak wood, which he had bought with 
 the purpose of taking it home, inhabited by the grub 
 that spends its life in the wood and leaves the desk 
 worthless ; his new Gladstone bag had happened to be 
 where the roof broke under the pressure of a pour 
 ing rain and had been soaked with muddy water and 
 its natty appearance completely destroyed * his new 
 fountain-pen was stolen that is, it had disappeared 
 from the tray on his desk; and now this, and this was 
 really the worst ! 
 
 Then as he thought of it all of the horrible dust 
 and heat of the dry season, of the dreadful mildew and 
 steam and slimy dampness and prickly heat of the wet 
 season, of the cheating and stealing of the natives, of 
 the slowness of development of the native Church, of 
 the deadly infectious diseases lurking in every drain, 
 touching one in every breath, ready to snap the thread 
 of life in a moment as he thought of all this and of
 
 DANGEROUS ENEMIES. 305 
 
 the languor and depression and confusion of mind and 
 exhaustion of body, his face reddened, and he fairly 
 threw the book across the room across the room, 
 mind you and said aloud and with perfect conviction, 
 'Tin's is a beastly country!" And then his wife sat 
 down and laughed till the tears came, for she knew 
 this was a word he hated, and she was now sure of the 
 other expressions, and they meant as much from him 
 as many worse words would have meant from another 
 man, and they sounded so strangely funny, for he had 
 resolutely, a> became a bishop, always abstained from 
 anything but the most moderate of terms. 
 
 And in his exclamation and in her tears there \vas 
 much homesickness and much longing for the old, 
 quiet, reliable existence, and much loathing of a coun 
 try whose climate and attributes and accessories per 
 mit safety to neither animate nor inanimate things. 
 
 The Bishop did not smile, lie felt it all too much. 
 .But he arose and got the j)<t!li/ I'io/x-cf and looked 
 at the shipping list for Liverpool, and then said : 
 
 '' We could catch the Souctwngj it sails on the 31st." 
 
 His wife stared. In answer to her evident amaze 
 ment he said, firmly and boldly: 
 
 " I am quite satisfied with my experiment. I do not 
 want to be a missionary to the missionaries any longer. 
 They are quite welcome to any scrap of comfort they 
 can snatch from the powers that militate against man 
 in this awful country, and I have come to the conclu 
 sion that if I were a fixture here, and there was no other 
 honorable way of escape, I would take the first good 
 opportunity I could get of going to heaven. If people 
 choose to stay here they may stay, and if they want it 
 I will vote to double their allowance, but let us go."
 
 300 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 His wife's face was bright with relief. She felt 
 she could shout for joy; but then they would not be 
 fulfilling their contract if they did this, and how 
 people would laugh, and the missionaries, especially 
 Mrs. Mackenzie, would actually chaff them, and with 
 reason ; and there was too much obstinacy in her 
 nature to give up quickly. So she said, wearily : 
 
 " O, no, we cannot do that. The people at home 
 know our plan and are expecting much from it ; and 
 we promised to do in all things as missionaries do, 
 and you know they cannot throw up their appoint 
 ments, and leave when they are tired and discouraged. 
 AVe must stay, and then we can speak with authority." 
 
 " My dear, I can say all I will have time to, with 
 all the authority I want, and more than will be lis 
 tened to ; and if I vote to double their allowance and 
 to give them full power to use the plans that seem 
 best to them, that will speak strongly enough." 
 
 "But it would not do to bring Lillian down into 
 the heat, even for the week it would take us to get to 
 Bombay ; and there are the schools and your tracts and 
 the Chandausi mela and the Conference ; besides, you 
 have been so tied to this work you have had no time 
 to see the other mission stations. Of course we can 
 now speak for the Lucknow work, but there are hun 
 dreds of people who want to know of Bareilly, Morad- 
 abad, Calcutta, and Bombay; and" winding up with 
 the remark "you know, dear, you promised." 
 
 During t\vo or three days following this conversa 
 tion Mrs. Clinton learned how uncomfortable it is to 
 live in the same house with a person who silently re 
 sents a position into which he has put himself but 
 out of which he cannot take himself.
 
 ROKEWOOD'S ILLNESS. 307 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ROKE WOOD'S I L L X E S S . 
 
 T was near the close of the rains, and the day had 
 been a little more stifling than usual. It had re 
 quired a little more of an effort to rise in the morning, 
 a little more of an. effort to dress, and a little more of 
 self-persuasion to pnt one foot before the other when 
 it seemed necessary to cross the room. There was a 
 little less air that was fit for breathing and a little less 
 strength to draw the breath ; for what had been left 
 from the ravages of the hot winds had been pilfered 
 by the damp heat of the monsoons ; what vigor had 
 not been burned out in the dry weather had been 
 steamed out in the wet. 
 
 Katie Mackenzie had been having fever for a week, 
 when the doctor had ordered both her and her mother 
 off to the mountains for a month, as they were very 
 much reduced ; and Mackenzie had just finished his 
 lonely tea in the morning and was starting out to the 
 publishing house, when Rokewood came wearily np 
 the steps with his valise in his hand as usual ana 
 sank down in a chair, took off his topi, and fanned 
 himself without speaking. Seeing he was ghastly 
 pale, Mackenzie asked, anxiously : 
 
 "What is the matter? You look completely 
 fagged." _ 
 
 " That is just it ! I am fagged exhausted ; I did
 
 308 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 not want to wait at the station for anything to eat, 
 for in addition to the cost of breakfast I would have 
 had to take a gari ; for by the time I had eaten it 
 would have been too hot to walk." 
 
 Mackenzie uttered an exclamation of impatience, 
 went out quickly, and said to the servant : 
 
 "Here, bearer, bring a glass of milk at once for the 
 Padri Sahib, and having done this prepare tea and 
 toast at once, and mind that you bring it hot." 
 
 And taking the milk he strode back to Rokewood, 
 who took it and drank it eagerly. Then Mackenzie, 
 whose face was r.s stern as liis voice, said : 
 
 " What do you mean by risking your life in this 
 manner? Do you think it no sin to commit suicide '"' 
 
 Rokewood smiled faintly. 
 
 " Of course I think it wrong, and even if I did not 
 I would not do it ; I love life too well." 
 
 " But if you take a course that your common sense 
 tells you, or ought to tell you, is calculated to kill you, 
 how do you differ from Sita Ram, who killed himself 
 yesterday in the bazar with a knife ? He did what 
 he believed would kill him in a short time ; you do 
 what will kill you just as surely, though it may take 
 a little longer to do it." 
 
 Mackenzie was apprehensive of resentment on 
 Rokewood's part, but there was none. He only an 
 swered, meditatively : 
 
 "Something like that seemed to strike me for the 
 first time as I came along. I suppose there is a limit 
 to what we can stand, and I begin to think the limit 
 is much sooner reached here than in any other coun 
 try in the world; and God wants men to live, not to 
 die, for him. There are not too munv workers.''
 
 ROKEWOOD'S II.L.NKSS. 
 
 "Too many? They arc counted by tens where 
 they should be counted by hundreds, and whoever 
 unnecessarily risks lessening the number sins!" 
 This was said with indignant energy. 
 
 The tea was brought, and then Mackenzie asked : 
 
 "What are you going to do to-day? Tell me 
 quickly, for I must be off." 
 
 " O, I hope to sell fifty rupees' worth of books. I 
 am behind with my subscriptions for the Leper Asy 
 lum, and I must make it up. That was really why I 
 did not take a gari." 
 
 "Well, I have this to say, liokewood," said Mac 
 kenzie, firmly, "you shall not go out to-day through 
 the heat unless you hire a gari; there is too much 
 fever and cholera about. You are staying with me, 
 and I will be no party to such absolute recklessness." 
 
 " Perhaps I will to-day, but you know I cannot do 
 it often and live on my prescribed allowance. You 
 men that take the full amount forget that we cannot 
 do as you do." 
 
 " Nor could you, my dear fellow, live on } y our pre 
 scribed allowance if we did." 
 
 Eokewood looked surprised. 
 
 " I do not understand," he said, simply. 
 
 " You will pardon me, I know, for finally saying 
 what I have kept back so long for fear of seeming 
 inhospitable and rude. But when you urge us to 
 try and live on what you are living, remember that if 
 we were not prepared to give you good food when 
 you are going from station to station you would ex 
 ceed your allowance ; that you are really not living on 
 your income, but upon ours? Much of your Work is 
 done when you are staying with missionaries who
 
 310 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 could not give you entertainment if they tried to live 
 on the miserable pittance you do, and when with us 
 you do not live on native food, which makes it an un 
 fair test also in regard to that; and when you say you 
 live on native food and in native style, and thus save 
 out of your allowance enough to educate a boy, you 
 are not stating the truth." 
 
 Rokewood's face flushed and he looked ashamed 
 and miserable. 
 
 "Upon my word, Mackenzie, I never thought of 
 it that way. I hope you will believe me, but it is 
 so much the custom for us to stay with each other 
 
 " Of course, and we want you to come, and do not 
 want you to do anything else but come, and we like 
 to help you carry out your theories, but you must 
 state the truth and you must let us advise you now 
 and then in return for it;" and added, as he got 
 no answer, u I beg of you, dear Rokewood, don't 
 look so hurt, and do be wise and sensible; get a 
 gari and do your work, and, mind, you are to come 
 back promptly at eleven for breakfast ; " and he went 
 off hurriedly, as he had talked longer than he had 
 intended. 
 
 Mackenzie did not feel exactly happy as he went 
 on. In fact, he felt much as he might had he given a 
 friend a blow in the face. 
 
 " I did not mean to hurt Rokewood," he said to 
 himself, "though I have always meant to tell him the 
 facts of the case ; but I lugged it in by the neck, and 
 I did not say just what I meant to say, and it was a 
 muddle, only it was the truth." 
 
 All the morning he was oppressed by this feeling 
 as he went on with his work, and he hurried home.
 
 1 to KK WOOD'S Tr.i.xKss. .'Ill 
 
 anxious to see Rokewood and remove the sting he 
 knew his words had left. 
 
 However, he did not find him, and, after eating 
 
 * O 
 
 breakfast, lie went over to the Bishop's bungalow, 
 thinking he might be there. 
 
 " AVhero is RokewoocH Is he not here?" he 
 asked, anxiously, as he saw only the Bishop, his wife, 
 and Carnton at the breakfast table. 
 
 " Xo, was he coining here ? I saw him in the 
 bazar, but we were both driving fast, and I only a - ave 
 
 o / o 
 
 him a nod, but did not speak/' 
 
 " O, it is all right if he was in a gari. He did not 
 seem well, and I urged him not t<> walk about the 
 city to-dav, but he did not promise;" and lie hurried 
 off. 
 
 " )Vell,'' said Carnton, as he ate his suji and milk. 
 ;> I am glad to see that Rokewood affects someone 
 else as ho does me. He is always on my mind, and 
 he reproaches me without meaning it and exasperates 
 me without knowing it." 
 
 "Why?" asked Mrs. Clinton, with interest. She 
 was always interested in seeing how different people 
 affected each other. 
 
 ' "Why, you know Rokewood and I are alike in 
 that we are alone in this country, not only unmarried, 
 but likely to remain so, and that w r e both are anxious 
 to do the most for our fellow-creatures possible in the 
 time that will be given us to live. lie follows a 
 course that my reason will not allow me to follow. I 
 have tried it enough to know what would be the con- 
 s '({nenccs tried the native food and the native 
 houses and the walking tc and from work ; but still 
 when I see him persevering on that line I am always 
 22
 
 31:2 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 conscious of a longing to do as he does and cast 
 reason to tlie winds." 
 
 "I would say then you would better follow your 
 feelings," said the Bishop. " "We want more mission 
 aries like Hokewood. I tell you plainly that lie in 
 terests me more than any other man here. I have 
 watched him closely, and lie is doing just what he 
 ought, and I encourage him, whenever I see him, to 
 keep on, and I wish there were more men willing to try 
 it and thus popularize this way of doing mission work." 
 
 " It is useless to try to popularize his method, for 
 people, excepting Rokewood, who have lived long in 
 India are too wise to try it," answered Carnton ; " but 
 perhaps there may be men in America willing to 
 come out and set the example." 
 
 The Bishop looked sharply at Carnton. He was 
 inclined to think there was an implied reproach in 
 his words, a;id Mrs. Clinton laughed a little con 
 sciously, but said nothing. As far as she was con 
 cerned she was quite willing to forget that it had 
 been part of her husband's idea originally, and, later 
 on, her own, to set an example to missionaries, for 
 anything requiring so much energy as an example 
 was beyond her; and, more, she had said something 
 like this to Mrs. Mackenzie, which had chased away 
 the shadow that had been between those two women. 
 
 " But at any rate," Carnton went on, seeing he had 
 no answer, " I had to decide for myself, as everyone 
 does, how I could best economize my strength, and 
 how I could do the most for the mission, and I found 
 I must sacrifice any romantic ideas I had." 
 
 " But how does Rokewood exasperate you ( " per 
 sisted Mrs. Clinton.
 
 KOKEWOOD'S ILLNESS. 313 
 
 "Just because lie takes the luxury of carrying out 
 his early romantic ideas, even when they are not 
 worth while. "When he had charge of the Leper 
 Asylum in Pithoragarh he lived among the lepers, 
 when others thought he could do them us much or 
 more good had he lived up on the hill a little way 
 from them ; but he thought not, and there was grandeur 
 in this sacrifice because of its magnitude. To-day he 
 is taking as great a risk, working all day in the sun 
 without food, as he did when he carried out the dead 
 Christian lepers in his arms and buried them with his 
 own hands; as great a risk, but with this difference: 
 then it was necessary, for even among those lepers 
 caste still binds all, and there was need ; but to-day 
 there was no need. It is madness to go about the 
 bazar without food, for cholera is waiting for any 
 good subject." 
 
 " Is he the only one in danger '. " asked Mrs. Clin 
 ton, quietly. 
 
 '' Xo, and hence all the more need of great care. 
 Xot fear, but a steady, sensible care in keeping the 
 system in good order lessens the chances. Xo one 
 who is w r ise can wish one to take unnecessary risks ; 
 there are enough unavoidable ones to satisfy the most 
 eager for accounts of missionary suffering." 
 
 At six that evening Rokewood drove into the com 
 pound just as Mackenzie was starting for the regular 
 meeting of the Epworth League, and, much to Mac 
 kenzie's relief, looked well as usual and far more 
 elated than he had seen him before. 
 
 " I have sold double the number of books to-daj 7 
 that I hoped Bibles to Hindoos, stories of the Gos 
 pel to Mohammedans, and any number of medical
 
 31-4 THK BISHOP' 
 
 hooks and of Miirdock's moral publications. I've 
 had a capital day, though I am tired out.'' 
 
 " You can thank me, for it is no doubt part due to 
 the fact that you took my advice and did no walking, 
 but saved your time and strength for your sales. 
 Come on with me, if you are not too tired, to the Ep 
 worth League;" and, paying his gari "\vnla, they were 
 soon going over the road, which was being watered 
 by water-carriers, as the break in the rain had made 
 it necessary. 
 
 The Epworth League was quite in the hands of 
 the young men and women of the native Church. 
 Carnton seemed to have a good deal to do with it, but 
 kept in the background and only appeared when 
 necessary. It was his plan to let them learn to do all 
 this alone. Mrs. Clinton, sitting quietly by the door, 
 had a feeling of indescribable interest tempered wirh 
 a humorous sensation that made it impossible not to 
 laugh now and then as the familiar words, "Epworth 
 League," "Committee Meeting," "Report," and a 
 few others came out of the mass of unknown words 
 as they read, talked, and discussed with the same 
 eager interest found where the original society flour 
 ishes. She tried to think of what would be the ef 
 fect on her Sunday school class of young ladies in 
 America were they taken up bodily and suddenly 
 put down in the midst of these olive-faced girls, 
 draped in their white chuddars, and the dark-eyed 
 young men in white. She amused herself with pic 
 turing the efforts of the young ladies to find out where 
 they were, and to make themselves understood ; but of 
 one thing she was sure they would be perfectly 
 certain thev were in a branch of their own society.
 
 ROKEWOOD'S ILLNESS. 315 
 
 Rokewood was interested in it all and spoko strong 
 words of encouragement, but he looked so pale and 
 tired that Mackenzie took him away before the close, 
 under the conviction that he had probably had no 
 dinner even if he had had breakfast. 
 
 As they got into the gari Mackenzie said : 
 
 " We will go home to dinner. I thought from 
 your appearance it would be better than staying 
 longer/' 
 
 '' It is not really necessary on my account," said 
 Rokewood, a little stiffly. " I do not wash to put you 
 to unnecessary trouble, and, in fact, I would have 
 stayed at the surai had I had my valise with me." 
 
 Mackenzie winced ; he knew his words of the 
 morning were not forgotten. 
 
 ".Now, Rokewood, I call that very unfair of you, 
 for in your heart you know I want you here, for my 
 own sake as well as for yours. My wife is so much 
 more contented in the hills when I have some one 
 with me that it pays to invite people to come. But 
 now own up, Rokewood, did you not have a luxurious 
 breakfast ? " 
 
 Rokewood laughed as he answered : 
 
 " I had the same as the people for whom I am la 
 boring had, puris and parched grain/' 
 
 " And for tiffin ? " 
 
 "More puris and grain." 
 
 Mackenzie gave his pony a cut with the whip, but 
 -aid nothing. 
 
 " You see," added Rokewood, apologetically, ' I got 
 so interested in my sales that I forgot all about break 
 fast until it was too lute to come back to you. Be 
 sides, as I wish to go on to Allahabad to-night, I felt
 
 316 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 I must not leave anything undone that I could do. I 
 shall not have a chance to sell Bibles to these men in 
 Lucknow again for along time." 
 
 ""Well," said Mackenzie, in despair, "I give it np. 
 If you, knowing all you are risking, are willing to go 
 the whole day with puris, which are about as whole 
 some as shoe-leather, and grain, which in connection 
 with puris is as nourishing as gravel-stones, it is use 
 less to try to teach you wisdom. You must do your 
 own work in your own way, and may God care for 
 you, for you will not care for yourself ! " 
 
 " God does and will care for me ; my part is only 
 to obey him." 
 
 " Yes," said Mackenzie ; " we each have only to do 
 that, but I cannot think you have obeyed him to-day/' 
 
 Then they talked of the different messages that 
 come to different men, and each acknowledged that 
 God's call to his servants must be different according 
 to different natures and the varied forms of the work 
 he required done in the world. 
 
 About ten Rokewood went off in Mackenzie's gari 
 to the station, intending to sleep there in the waiting 
 room and take the three o'clock train for Allahabad, 
 and Mackenzie M-ent to bed. About three o'clock 
 Mackenzie was roused from the heavy, suffocating 
 slumber that comes only at its worst in the rains when 
 the punkah is stopped for a few moments and the 
 blood settles in the brain and around the spinal cord 
 with the effect of wishing to burst the veins and force 
 itself to the surface. Gasping and struggling for 
 breath he called out to the punkah cooly to know the 
 reason of the stopping of his work. 
 
 " Preserver of the poor, a gari has come."
 
 ROSEWOOD'S ILLM-:**. 317 
 
 "Who is in it?" 
 
 " The Padri Sahib, and he sends his salaams to you, 
 and he is very ill." 
 
 Jumping up and catching up the ever-burning lan 
 tern quickly, he cried impatiently as he ran out in 
 his flannel sleeping suit : 
 
 " Why did you not say so at once? These fellows 
 would take just as much time to tell one the news if 
 the world were exploding! Come -in quickly if you 
 are ill, though I cannot see who you are." 
 
 " It is I Rokewood," said a faint voice, " and I 
 have cholera, just as you feared. Call the bearer and 
 let him help me out." 
 
 A chill of horror kept Mackenzie still for a sec 
 ond ; only a second, yet he had time to be thankful 
 that his wife and Katie were safe in the mountains, 
 and then he said : 
 
 "I can lift you; here, gariwan, help me; we are 
 good for two of your size;" and a few minutes after 
 the sick man was in Mackenzie's own bed, the gariwan 
 was driving swiftly away for the doctor, and Macken 
 zie was applying the"ever-ready cholera remedies. 
 
 As the pain eased, Rokewood spoke freely. 
 
 " How long had you been ill ? You surely did not 
 come as soon as you were ill ? " asked Mackenzie, 
 sorely distressed, and with the peculiar pain of having 
 his worst fears confirmed a sort of responsibility 
 coming from foreknowledge. 
 
 "No; I waited, thinking I would be better; I did 
 not think it serious ; when I saw I was getting worse 
 I came ; I knew you would take care of me." 
 
 " Of course, but if you only had come at the first, 
 the very first moment you felt ill ! "
 
 318 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 "Yes, yes; but it's all right; I'll pull through this 
 time; I am already better; the pain is less." 
 
 Mackenzie made no reply ; he did not need to see 
 the set face of the doctor who soon came to tell him 
 that there was grave doubt as to the possibility of 
 the patient pulling through. 
 
 The morning broke with a whirl of dust and leaves 
 and writhing of trees and long flashes of lightning 
 from all sides, cutting sharply the thick, heavy clouds, 
 and still the two men the doctor and Mackenzie 
 worked steadily until they were joined by Carnton, 
 who had listened to the messenger Mackenzie had 
 sent to tell them of Rokewood's illness and of the 
 doctor's order that no one was to come, and drove 
 over as quickly as though the doctor's order had been 
 to come at once. 
 
 "I am come to help," he said, simply, in answer to 
 the doctor's scowl. 
 
 Mackenzie was glad, for he himself was already be 
 ginning to show some of the symptoms of choleni, 
 and felt strangely weak and exhausted, and was glad 
 of a little respite and a chance to get some food and 
 rest. 
 
 The messenger, after telling Carnton and seeing 
 Avith pleasure that he disobeyed the doctor's order, 
 went on to the Clintons, who had come out on to the 
 veranda to watch the storm, which was traveling 
 
 7 O 
 
 rapidly, leaving broken branches and even broken 
 trees in its wake. 
 
 "The Padri Mackenzie Sahib sends salaam and an 
 order that no one coming to hees house," said the man, 
 enjoying the importance of his message and the chance 
 to speak English.
 
 ROKEWOOD'S ILLNESS. 319 
 
 "What!" said Mrs. Clinton, not understanding. 
 
 "Padri Saliib got collar, and Doctor Sahib say not 
 coining to hees house." 
 
 The Bishop sprang to his feet. 
 
 "Mackenzie Sahib?" 
 
 "No, mither sahib the strange sahib who walks 
 and sells books. And, your honor, Doctor Sahib says 
 no one coming to house," the man added, as he saw 
 the Bishop take his hat and stick. 
 
 "It does not matter" in answer to the man "the 
 doctor cannot keep me from going. Of course we 
 cannot leave Mackenzie alone in this calamity and 
 danger. I shall take every care of myself," as he saw 
 the white set look on his wife's face; " but, you see, I 
 must go. v 
 
 " yes," she said, with difficulty, "you must go, but 
 ho\v can I have you -go? O, how glad 1 am that 
 Lillian is not here! " and she ended with a dry sob. 
 
 The man stood silent, quickly understanding the 
 Bishop's intention and waiting for a chance for more 
 words. 
 
 " The Doctor Sahib very zabberdust man, he let no 
 one come. Carnton Sahib also zabberdust, and he 
 gone running. lie not 'f raid to the doctor ; " and the 
 man grinned with joy at the thought of one man not 
 fearing the doctor. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton looked relieved. 
 
 "Wait, then; Mr. Carnton has gone; that is suf- 
 iicient help now, and the chances are that the doctor 
 may let one stay where he would order two off; and 
 surely these who have lived here must know better 
 what to do in such cases," she pleaded, weakly, feeling 
 that it was ignoble to be glad that Carnton had gone.
 
 320 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 but unablo to control the feeling. The Bishop looked 
 undecided ; the man, who was a chaprassi and proud 
 of his English, suggested : 
 
 " Doctor Sahib very smart,' very like obeying ; he 
 tell it, ' All come all get sick,' and then it make 
 pretty-kettle-of-fish." 
 
 Even now, as ever, Mrs. Clinton felt inclined to 
 laugh at the man's English, though it was a sort of 
 hysterical wish. 
 
 The Bishop took two rapid strides across the ve 
 randa. 
 
 " I will at least write a note to Mackenzie and ask if 
 I can be of any service;" and he went to his desk and 
 came back quickly with a note telling the man to 
 hurry and return with an answer. 
 
 They sat silent, waiting, and now the storm seemed 
 also waiting, but there was a freshness in the air that 
 told of rain somewhere that in some more favored 
 place the parched ground was soaked and the thirsty 
 leaves of the trees washed clean and a little of that 
 freshness had extended to the weary people at Luck- 
 now. 
 
 The man came back saying that the doctor would 
 permit no one else to come, and that the sahib was 
 no better. 
 
 " Will he die ? " asked the Bishop. 
 
 "God knows," said the man, indifferently. 
 
 " We can at least pray for him," said the Bishop, 
 and they knelt and he prayed for this soul which was 
 battling for life; prayed earnestly that God would i:i 
 his wisdom permit the restoration of life; but his 
 words seemed to fall back, and would not ascend on 
 the wings of faith. There was a heaviness that he
 
 KOKEWOOP'S ILLNESS. 321 
 
 eould not account for in his petitions, though he con 
 tinued long on his knees. Somehow he could only 
 think of the many times he had encouraged Roke- 
 wood to continue in an experiment that others of long 
 years in India believed to be fatal ; of the fact that even 
 while he had encouraged this poor young man in his 
 theories he had thought them too full of risk for 
 himself. True, Rokewood had no wife or children, 
 yet it struck him all at once as a cowardly thing to 
 urge another on in a course which he himself could 
 not conscientiously take. 
 
 He had rather unconsciously felt that he was solv 
 ing the problem by proxy ; that he could report on 
 Rokewood's experiment as well or perhaps better 
 than though he went through it personally ; for Roke 
 wood knew the country and the ways and language of 
 the native people and how to live cheaply, as he could 
 bargain for things, and also knew how to protect him 
 self ; yet now it seemed another thing. 
 
 " But why," he asked himself in bitter self-reproach, 
 ' why does it appear so different now, now when it 
 is too late, when poor Rokewood is dying? It is not 
 at all certain that he might not have taken cholera 
 had he been careful and wise ; others have taken it, 
 and why should I feel to blame in the matter?" 
 
 But there was no answer, and the controversy with 
 himself went on till another thought even more terrible 
 came. He took his wife's hand in his and looked in 
 her face. One thought was in both minds. Cholera 
 
 O 
 
 was coming too near to be disregarded. At sunset one 
 or both of them might be gone, aye, even underground, 
 for ceremony does not follow in the path of cholera, 
 and then what of Lillian and the boys?
 
 322 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 In other mission houses there was silence and wait 
 ing and prayer. For once the work stood still and 
 also waited. It could not be long, for this dread 
 visitor treads with no lagging footsteps, and while a 
 life was passing who could do aught but wait in solemn 
 silence ? For it was all too true. Poor Rokewood's 
 life was going out swiftly. Young, just beginning to 
 work for God, eager and bold and ready for the 
 hardest fight, the thickest of the fray, happiest when 
 he had something difficult to do for the great Master 
 whom he loved, and yet, before the morning had 
 passed, before the dew was off the grass, before the 
 freshness was gone from the trees, before the mists 
 had fled, he was going, and hundreds in Lucknow, 
 men who had only lived for self, for what the day 
 might bring, were alive and going out for the day's 
 work or pleasure, as the case might be. 
 
 It was hard; the Bishop must again settle himself 
 to the idea that since God permitted it his servants 
 must bow in acquiescence. 
 
 "Rokewood," said Mackenzie, as the dying man 
 seemed easier and brighter, "you are very ill." 
 
 He turned his eyes quickly. 
 
 " Am I in danger ? Will I not recover? " 
 
 " The doctor said it is always safe to make our final 
 arrangements in case of " 
 
 " But what did he say ? Will I get well or not ? " 
 interrupted Rokewood, quietly. 
 
 " My dear Rokewood, we fear you may not recover, 
 but we know you are in God's hands and not in ours. 
 He know?, we do not; but we know you are ready 
 either to live or die, as he wills." 
 
 "Yes, yes; but it is strange. I did not think I
 
 ROKEWOOD'S ILLNKSS. 323 
 
 would die until I was old ; I am young, and I have 
 done so little, so little. Do you think, Mackenzie " 
 with increasing feebleness '' He will count what I 
 was ready to do what I wanted to do for him?'' 
 
 " Yes, yes, dear Rokewood," in a voice he strove to 
 make steady. " Why not? It is our wills he wants, 
 and surely you have given him yours." 
 
 "Our wills are thine," he murmured. k ' Yes ; I 
 gave my will up to him years ago, when I was on the 
 farm, before 1 went to college ; and mother, she was 
 proud of her missionary son, prouder of him than of 
 the others, with all their money ; " and he rested, 
 dreaming a little. 
 
 Mackenzie, after giving him medicine, again called 
 his attention to any message or arrangements. 
 
 With an effort he brought his mind back from old 
 days on the quiet farm. 
 
 ' Tell mother and father that I had rather live as 
 T have lived and die as I have died than to have been 
 a king; it is glorious! What terror has death for 
 me? None. It is only to be dying a moment and 
 then eternity with Him who died for me." And a 
 long pause. 
 
 u Rokewood, dear friend, I spoke sharply to you 
 this morning; forgive me; I did it because I loved 
 you and wanted to save you from this ' he caught 
 himself ; that was not just what he meant to say. 
 
 " Christ saved me," Rokewood said feebly. " For 
 give? It was nothing, and you have stood by me 
 nobly. You will find my mother's last letter with the 
 address in my trunk, and all the accounts of the Leper 
 Asylum and the subscriptions ; they are all there ; 
 and you will write."
 
 324 THE IJISHOP'S CONVKRSIOX. 
 
 Then gently as a child goes to sleep in its mother's 
 arms his life went out, leaving the body straight and 
 stiff and cold. 
 
 At sunset a lonely little procession passed ont to 
 the cemetery beside the river, and the body was 
 placed in the unconsecrated ground outside, among 
 the unbaptized, among all who are not of the Church 
 sanctioned by the government. 
 
 Mackenzie, white and weak, looked as though it was 
 with difficulty that he remained standing through the 
 burial service. They had asked him not to come, but 
 he had urged he would be better for going, and noth 
 ing more was said. Each one mourned genuinely for 
 the great soul that had departed ; not mourned for him 
 personally for him to die was infinite gain but 
 mourned that his familiar form would go no more out 
 and in among them ; mourned that the number seek 
 ing to plant the standard of the Cross was lessened 
 by one; mourned that one so earnest, so true should 
 miss opportunity to stamp his character on hundreds 
 of others ; mourned for those weak ones who might 
 ever go unhelped by him. 
 
 "Was his life wasted? Who shall say? The dis 
 ciples objected to the breaking of the box of costly 
 parfume. It might have been used, they said, to bet 
 ter advantage; but even though broken it has been 
 passed down from century to century, shedding its 
 fragrance all the way. So let us hope his life may 
 ever be a memorial to be passed on down from father 
 to son, for generation after generation. 
 
 In little homes in the mountains, away from the 
 stir of the world, where the white topi of the sahib 
 rarelv comes, when the night-fire blazes before the
 
 ROKBWOOD'S ILLNKS>. 325 
 
 hut, casting weird shadows in which lurk the jackal 
 and leopard, the father may tell of a tall sahib who 
 loved work and who loved the natives so that if any 
 were tired he would do their work, and who said it 
 was better to work than to have lacs of rupees ; who 
 said that the Greatest who had ever lived had been a 
 inistri and held the hammer and chisel, and that this 
 same Greatest would save them from transmigration 
 if they only believed on him. And again on holi 
 days, when the women have on their brightest jackets 
 and chuddars, one will tell how on the mall which 
 goes around the little lake away up in the mountain 
 among the clouds, when aU the great people wore 
 walking and riding and chatting, this same strange 
 sahib had taken her son from her arms and carried 
 him, because she was weak and tired and the boy was 
 large, and all the sahib people looked at him and 
 laughed and thought he was mad to carry a black 
 baby among them. And other cooly women will tell 
 of his helping them carry a piano down the mall, and 
 how again all the people laughed and thought him 
 mad, and that he came to be known among them as 
 the mad sahib, who believed there could be work too 
 hard for low caste women. 
 
 And they will then tell that he always told them it 
 was because the God he worshiped and the Incarna 
 tion in which he believed told him to do these things; 
 and because his God loved everyone, even under-caste 
 women, who are nothing, as the whole world knows, 
 he also must love all and help all ; and when in trou 
 ble and sorrow, when the rains fail and the harvest is 
 not, and there is nothing to eat, or when the son dies 
 and the house is desolate, then may they not leave the
 
 320 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION, 
 
 wooden images that cannot help them, and, imperfect 
 and feeble as the prayer may be, shall lie \vlio heeds 
 the young ravens shall lie not, even for this man's 
 sake, who died for them shall he not hear and an 
 swer ?
 
 ('. \U.\TOX AM) 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 C A R X T X A X D S I D X E Y. 
 
 HEX ? after leaving the grave, the Bishop and 
 his wife and Carnton were getting into their 
 gari at the entrance of the cemetery, on their way 
 home, they saw Sidney just about to drive off alone. 
 Mrs. Clinton stopped her with a wave of her hand 
 and went to her. The girl's white face made her 
 heart ache, and as she held her hand a sudden thought 
 came to her, and she said imperatively, 
 " Come with us ; we will take you home." 
 Ordinarily Sidney's pride would have kept her 
 from going where she would be brought into contact 
 with Carnton, but she knew he had been helping to 
 nurse Rokewood, and in the face of the fear that she 
 might never see him again, that to-morrow at sunset 
 they might again be in this cemetery to put under 
 the white sand all that could make life dear to her, 
 and all that was making it heavy for her, she could 
 not keep up her pride. Her fear caused her to yield 
 at once, and without the slightest hesitation she said, 
 fim ply, "Yes, I will come." And she got out of her 
 gari and came across. While the Bishop helped them 
 in Carnton looked at her. Her face, with all the pretty 
 color gone and drawn with fear, seemed to be the face 
 of another, and not that of the woman he loved. His 
 heart throbbed fiercely at the thought that possibly it
 
 328 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 was because he liad been in peril that she had that 
 stricken look. 
 
 Their eyes met, hers scanning his face anxiously to see 
 if there were any signs of coining illness ; his with love 
 and longing plainly speaking plainly to Mrs. Clin 
 ton, but not to Sidney, who had forgotten herself in 
 her anxiety for him. There was little said; some 
 quiet remark from the Bishop on the beauty of the 
 sunset showing brokenly through the trees, and soon 
 they were on the bridge that spans the Gumti. The 
 Bishop, with an exclamation of wonder, stopped the 
 horse. The river flat, sluggish, bounded on either 
 side by wide stretches of level land, grass-covered, pool- 
 bestudded was full of reflected glory. The sky up to 
 the zenith M'as spread with large lapis lazuli blue, 
 gold-lined, and bronze clouds, all gold-rimmed ; and in 
 these masses of glory were little breaks through which 
 showed the sky a sea-green, pale and clear. At the 
 horizon, where the river disappeared in dim perspec 
 tive, purple, soft, but strong against the gold, were 
 the domes and turrets of the Chutter Munzil palaces ; 
 reflected perfectly in the water below was the same 
 the domes and turrets on a background of gold, the 
 blue and bronze and gold of the sky, showing through 
 the whole long sweep of the river from bridge to 
 palace. At the sides, too, the pools had caught a 
 golden glow and gleamed like mammoth topazes in 
 the setting of bright emerald green grass. It had 
 been a dreary day, for the morning storm had, after 
 passing, returned and left the blessed rain, which 
 seemed to leave both blessings and beauty behind it. 
 
 The deep voice of the Bishop reverently said, as 
 though he were reading the psalm in a choired cathe-
 
 CARNTON AND SIDNEY. 329 
 
 dral : ''The heavens declare the glory of (rod; and 
 the firmament showeth his handiwork. Day unto 
 day ntteretli speech, and night unto night showeth 
 knowledge/ 1 
 
 Then as they drove on they talked of the life that 
 had just gone out, of his work, of the possibility of 
 his life having been saved had he taken proper food 
 the day before, of the results of the work, and of 
 Rokewood's parents, who had been so proud of their 
 missionary boy. 
 
 " As far as men can see," said Carnton, finally, "lie 
 might have been alive had he taken proper care of 
 himself, for in every case in this particular epidemic 
 of cholera which has proved fatal there has been some 
 irregularity of diet or exposure to wet and chill with 
 out proper after-precautions, so the doctor told me. 
 But that is neither here nor there. God permitted 
 it, and I had rather at this moment be in Kokewood's 
 place than save my health at the expense of my work. 
 A\ T e are here to care for ourselves in just so far as will 
 further our work, and no further. We must be ready 
 for whichever helps our work, whether life or death, 
 and I, for one, am willing it should be either." 
 
 His face glowed as he said this, and the Bishop 
 grasped his hand. 
 
 "My dear Carnton, I believe you, and I believe you 
 are not alone. Every man I have met, excepting one 
 or two I know, works on that principle. It is clear to 
 me now to-day as it has not been before. It is for God 
 and his work, and individuals must have liberty to live 
 this out as best they can. Rokewood had his way. 
 
 ; ' ' As man may, he fought his fight. 
 I'ruvd his truth by his endeavor," "
 
 330 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 he added, quoting from some old war poem he remem 
 bered imperfectly. Not since he left the old com 
 pany of which he had been chaplain had he thought 
 so much of battle and warlike valor and fields of glory 
 and being buried with honor on the field of battle as 
 he had since coming to India. There was the same 
 valor, the same esprit de corps, the same grim determi 
 nation to conquer or die, or willingness to conquer and 
 die ; and he had to confess, in face of all the difficul 
 ties, it certainly was as necessary as in those days of 
 bloodshed, if victory was to be with them. 
 
 " Will you not go up with us, Sidney ? " asked Mrs. 
 Clinton. 
 
 "No!" said Carnton, authoritatively, "she must 
 not go. With so much infection abroad she is better 
 at home. Who knows where it will fasten next?" 
 he added, in explanation of the surprised looks turned 
 on him. 
 
 As they came up in front of the old palace he 
 quickly helped her out and took both hands, and, with 
 his eyes telling her at once of his love and devotion, 
 he said good-bye softly, but tenderly and sadly. 
 
 And then Sidney was alone and must wait. She 
 went up and sat on the roof in the dark, and held 
 communion with herself. It was the first time she 
 had wanted to be alone since the news had come at 
 noon that Ivokewood had died and Carnton had helped 
 Mackenzie nurse him. Xow she sat and thought of 
 that hand-clasp and the look from his eyes. She 
 sat &nd hugged the thought of these to her, and almost 
 
 OO O / 
 
 cried for pity of herself. 
 
 " It is a beggarly dole I shall have to keep with me 
 and live on during the remainder of mv life if he
 
 CARNTON AND SIDNEY. 331 
 
 goes. And I know lie will go, lor life seems to be 
 arranged that way that what one most longs for is 
 snatched at the moment it is dearest. Perhaps even 
 the dear memory of that look may 1'ail me. I may 
 forget the love that was in his eyes for an instant. I 
 may forget how it seems to have one's hands clasped 
 in love as though they would never be surrendered. 
 I shall go on in my work ; thank God, there is work 
 that I love, and he will give me peace after a while. 
 The pain must lessen must, or I cannot live." 
 
 The house was quiet at last, and still she sat and 
 thought. At midnight she said : 
 
 " He may now be ill ; he may even be beyond help ; " 
 and as these thoughts came she would rise and walk 
 up and down softly and quietly, for she wanted no one 
 to know the vigil she was keeping. 
 
 " If I were his sister, and though I cared little for 
 him, I might be in the house and watching for the 
 first symptom of illness, but I, who only love him 
 better than myself I, who would give the whole world 
 to be near him, to know how he is must not even ask. 
 I must wait. How hard life is for us women ! how 
 hard! 1 ' 
 
 Was it strange that her fears never once reached 
 the other man, Mr. Mackenzie, who was in equal 
 danger? And was it strange that Mrs. "Mackenzie, 
 when the news came to her, was torn with fear and 
 anxiety for her husband, but did not give Oarnton's 
 danger one thought? 
 
 Then Sidney would sit quietly in a half-stupor for 
 an hour, and then again walk the floor. Finally, ex 
 hausted, she went into the house and threw herself on 
 her bed and fell into a heavy slumber, from which she
 
 332 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 was awakened at a late hour in the morning by a 
 voice outside the door : 
 
 " A letter has come, Miss Sahib." 
 
 " Where from ? " she asked, her heart standing still 
 at the answer : 
 
 "Clinton Mem Sahib." 
 
 She could only rush to the door and put out a shak 
 ing hand to take it, fearing news of the worst kind. 
 
 But it was only a note from Mrs. Clinton saying 
 something of the station meeting what, she could not 
 understand. She was returning a book that Sidney 
 had lent her, and was thankful to say that they were 
 all well. 
 
 Sidney blessed her in her heart for her kind 
 ness. She knew well the station meeting and the 
 book w^ere only an excuse to let her know that Cam- 
 ton had not suffered for his generous help to Roke- 
 wood. " It was sweet of her to do this," she said. 
 "Had she not, I would have had to go there and 
 find out how he is, but I am saved from that absurd 
 ity, at least." 
 
 The assistants and Bible women had gone out to 
 work before Sidney was wakened by the arrival of the 
 letter, and she went slowly after them. Her head was 
 confused, and she felt stunned and numb, as though 
 she had wakened from a bad dream ; but when once 
 with the women in the villages she forgot her own 
 troubles, as she always did in the pleasure of greeting 
 them, in answering their questions, and in teaching 
 them. 
 
 Four days passed with only a lingering hand-shake 
 from Carnton on Sunday at both morning and even 
 ing service in the English church ; then came two
 
 (\\U.\TI I.N AND SIDNEY. 333 
 
 notes one morning as Sidney was going to her work 
 one from Mrs. Clinton asking her to come over and 
 spend the evening, and another which she opened 
 with trembling fingers. She did not know the writ 
 ing, but she well knew who had written it : 
 
 "Mr DEAR Miss MELLEN : Mrs. Clinton, at my 
 request, has asked you to have tea and spend the eve 
 ning here. I wish particularly to see you. If I were 
 in America I would ask you to drive with me, but I 
 have realized more than ever in the last few months 
 that we are not in America and must yield to the 
 customs and requirements of the land we are in in 
 order that none may be offended. I have waited, 
 hoping chance would favor me, but in vain. ^Vill 
 you come ? Do not, I beg of you, say no, and please 
 do not have another engagement. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " J '/ii/at Bag. STERXDAI.E CARNTOX." 
 
 A week ago Sidney might have had another en 
 gagement. She might have felt that something more 
 was due to her than to acquiesce so easily, letting him 
 feel that lie could advance and retreat at his own 
 pleasure. But that look of farewell as he stood and 
 held her hands the night of poor Rokewood's burial 
 was too true, too tender, too full of the pain of a pos 
 sible long farewell for her to doubt him now. Even 
 if, at first, he had felt lie could not love a woman who 
 had gone through so much publicity and made so 
 many mistakes, still he was now conquered by his 
 love whether he was willing to be conquered or not. 
 All day she had a happy consciousness of the evening
 
 334 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION 
 
 to come. Not that she dared definitely to think of 
 what he wished to say to her or of what the evening 
 might bring. It was enough that she was to see him 
 because he wanted to see her. She had replied to 
 Mrs. Clinton's note, saying she would come, but could 
 not bring herself to reply to Carnton's. An unac 
 countable shyness overcame her when she thought of 
 
 tf O 
 
 doing so. 
 
 She never had found her work more interesting or 
 the women more interested. One woman, Piari, 
 asked her why her face was so glad was she now, 
 at last, going to have her marriage arranged? The 
 native women can never understand how a single lady 
 can bear up under the disgrace of not being married, 
 for to them it is a heart-crushing thing, and denotes 
 something in themselves very unworthy. 
 
 Sidney laughed, though she was annoyed to feel 
 the color overspreading her face and to feel an in 
 clination to hang her head, but she avoided giving an 
 answer. 
 
 Night at last came, and Sidney, in a plain soft 
 muslin, without ribbon or ornament, with the wood- 
 rose color blazing in her cheeks in a way she could 
 execrate, went. 
 
 Carnton met her at the door and helped her out of 
 the carriage in a proprietary way that was so nearly 
 a taking possession that she could hardly walk steadily 
 as she crossed the room to greet Mrs. Clinton, who 
 sat behind a teapot pouring out tea. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton chatted away, abouf what, Sidney 
 could not tell, and Carnton talked on to cover her 
 silence. He had been disappointed at her not answer 
 ing his letter ; but it was something that she was will-
 
 CARNTON AND SIDNEY. 335 
 
 ing to come ; that she had not utterly refused to come, 
 as he fully realized she might. Then Mrs. Clinton 
 took the Bishop's cap of tea to the study, and he 
 asked her to excuse him to Miss Mellen, as he was 
 getting up a lecture on natural history for the boys in 
 the high school. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton smiled quietly to herself and said she 
 would soon come back and help him look up points 
 and leave Mr. Carnton to entertain Sidney. 
 
 The Bishop looked up in surprise. 
 
 " You can hardly do that, can you, my dear ? " 
 
 " O, yes, I think I can;" and, as he still looked 
 doubtful, she added, " I will tell you why when I re 
 turn." 
 
 She offered them more tea, but it was refused, and 
 then she said : 
 
 ' ; I know you will excuse me, as I wish to help my 
 husband to-night. We often sit out on the veranda, 
 for the lamp makes the room so very hot ; you will 
 iind chairs out there," and vanished, seeming quite to 
 forget to tell her husband why it had suddenly be 
 come proper to leave an invited guest for Mr. Carn 
 ton to entertain. 
 
 Carnton vowed in his heart never to forget her 
 kindness, and said : 
 
 " Will you come ? Let us walk a little on the 
 veranda, if you are not tired. I have not had any 
 exercise to-day '' and then, as she rose and moved 
 with him toward the door " and I think I can say 
 what I have to say easier." 
 
 "Really," said Sidney, quietly, "I had never 
 thought you found any great difficulty in talking." 
 
 '' How unkind ! " said Carnton, " and how unjust !
 
 336 THE BISHOP'- ('. >\\ 
 
 1 often have the very greatest difficulty, and never 
 more than when I talk with yon/' 
 
 " Ah, yes ; yon find me dull and difficult of compre 
 hension, perhaps/' 
 
 Carnton was silent. This was not Sidney this 
 was not the kind, sweet woman who had scanned his 
 face so anxiously the other day when she thought 
 there was danger for him. 
 
 " Sidney," he said, firmly, " I have much to sav, 
 and yet when I begin I seem to have only one thing 
 to say, and that is, ' I love you.' It sounds common 
 place, but it means so much to me. It means that I 
 loved you the very first time I saw you, and that I 
 have loved you every minute since. There has not 
 been a waking minute when I have not been con 
 scious of you raid of the. possibility that perhaps I had 
 at last met the one for whom I have been praying all 
 these years. There have been experiences in my <>\\n 
 early life that made me dread more than any other 
 calamity an unhappy marriage. So for years I have 
 prayed that if there was a possible one anywhere on 
 the earth whom I might some day love with a love 
 that I knew would make or mar my happiness I 
 prayed I might love worthily and well. I prayed that 
 she might be such as would make me happy, and that 
 I might be all that would make her happy, and that 
 our purposes and our tastes might harmonize. From 
 the first I have felt, in a way, though I would not ac 
 knowledge it to myself, that you were the one out of 
 the whole world I would choose ; but I waited to test 
 the matter, and I wished to test it as much for your 
 sake as for mine. I am satisfied. It is the one love of 
 my life. Whether you love me or not I shall continue
 
 CARNTON AND SIDNEY. 337 
 
 to the end as I have begun. You will be the one 
 woman in the whole world for me." 
 
 They still were walking, but when they again came 
 to the corner where the chairs were Sidney sank down 
 in the chair farthest from the light that streamed out 
 across the stones on the veranda floor and out over 
 flie grass starred with fireflies, mingling with the 
 white moonlight. 
 
 Then, as Sidney spoke no word, Carnton stood and 
 waited before her, his face gleaming pale in the light 
 pale, but full of the eagerness of hope dashed with 
 n little fe;,r. 
 
 The crickets sang loudly, the fireflies shot back and 
 forth, and the air was heavy with the scent of the 
 white jasmine flowers gleaming in the moonlight. 
 Away across the level tops of the houses were the 
 familiar domes and minarets against the deep, dark 
 blue sky of the oriental night, and the cry of a night 
 bird rang out as it passed them. 
 
 " Sidney," he said, with great yearning in his voice, 
 'Sidney, have yon no answer for me ? " 
 
 ' ; Did you ask me a question ? " she murmured, her 
 voice sounding strange and far away even to herself. 
 
 "Did I not? I have put my love at your feet. 
 Will you take it up, or will you trample on it?" 
 
 Again the silence and the sad cry of the crickets. 
 
 " I shall not trample on it," she finally said, slowly ; 
 but when he took her hand it lay cold and passive in 
 his close clasp. 
 
 ""What is it, Sidney," he cried, passionately, "that 
 has come between us? It ought not to be thus if 
 your soul answers the call of my own." 
 
 With a visible effort Sidney spoke :
 
 338 THK BISHOP'S C<>NVI:KSI<>\. 
 
 " We were very near each other once, just before 
 the trouble over Sitara, but when I was full of bur 
 dens and anxiety and covered with shame at the pub 
 licity of the trial you drew away and left me to bear 
 it all alone." 
 
 "O, my darling, did it seem that way to you? It 
 was not true, it was not true." And then, low and 
 quickly, " Do you not remember when Mrs. Clinton 
 came down with me to invite you to go to Bi bin pur, 
 and she told you that it was my plan ?" His lips 
 were veryeloee to her car now, and he only breathed 
 the words : " I knew I knew then what would make 
 or mar my happiness. I felt I was ready to ask and 
 ready to receive, if I might, the benediction of your 
 love; and I wished to take you away from all the 
 noises of native life, away where we might feel free 
 from interruption, away for a moment from all this life 
 which has only work in its plan and has no time for 
 love. I felt you would not be taken by surprise, that 
 you, as well as I, had seen that we were sympathetic; 
 that the attraction had from the first been mutual, and 
 that I had been just to you as well as myself to give 
 you a month or two to test the matter. I saw you 
 were distant and even cool toward me, but I said to 
 myself, 'The native people have been saying things 
 to her as well as to me about our marriage and she, 
 
 O * s 
 
 like myself, wishes to avoid remark.' ' 
 
 Sidney moved uneasily in her chair. She wished 
 she dared to ask him what they had said. 
 
 " So when I was driven to give up the test ; when I 
 found I must have the right to see you now and then, 
 to warn you to take care of yourself; when I began 
 night and day to be filled with terror at the thought
 
 CARNTOX AXD SIDXKY. 339 
 
 of evil befalling you, of accidents, of sudden disease, 
 and at the thought I might never even tell yon of the 
 love I had in my heart for yon, I went to you feeling 
 von knew ;,11 that was in my heart, and would know 
 why 1 came. Do you remember? Yon promised at 
 iirst to come with ns, and then when yon knew that 
 it was I who had planned it that I was going you 
 drew hack coldly and said the demands of your work 
 would not allow you to go. It meant simply to me 
 that love had no place in your plan -that you would 
 not give np your work, that the liking I was persuaded 
 you had for me was not strong enough to force you, 
 as I had been forced, to doing what had not been in 
 your plan. I went home with the same stunned feel 
 ing I had once after falling from a cliff and striking 
 on my head. It did not leave me, and I hardly knew 
 what was going on around me. A letter came from 
 Marker, who has charge of the district while Thomp 
 son is away, asking me to go to Ilowali to look after 
 some things there, and I was gone two or three days. 
 After I came back I now and then heard some 
 mention of Sitara and the trial, but I did not under 
 stand you had anything to do with it until I saw it 
 in the papers. I was shocked and cut to the heart 
 at what I knew you must have suffered, but when I 
 tried to get near enough to show you my sympathy 
 you would have naught of me ; you kept me at arm's 
 length and would not talk of vour trouble. When, 
 
 j *J 
 
 determined not to be put off, I asked you direct 
 questions, you told less than you would have told a 
 stranger." 
 
 " That was natural," sai 1 Sidney, simply, as he 
 waited for a reply. She had found her own voice
 
 34:0 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 again, only there was a curious sound of elation and 
 joy in it. 
 
 "I can see now that you thought I was avoiding 
 you when I was so full of my own trouble that I 
 hardly knew what I was doing. I suffered, I suffered, 
 and I knew it was only a beginning of the long days and 
 nights that must be lived through. "When I saw poor 
 Rokewood dying I envied him the short, sharp agony, 
 and I would gladly have exchanged places with him/' 
 
 Sidney put out her hand with a gesture of dissent. 
 
 " No, O, no ! " she said, quickly. 
 
 Her linn 1 was taken in that close, sweet clasp she 
 remembered so well ; and she thought dreamily that 
 she had been mistaken that it had not been the last. 
 
 " It was only the pity and anxiet} 7 in your face, and I 
 almost thought something more than pity, that even 
 ing as we came from the cemetery that made me hope 
 against reason. I could not help it. Was I wrong?" 
 
 Sidney's other hand, soft, clinging, and warm, crept 
 into his, and her hot cheek was against his forehead, 
 and he had his answer. 
 
 Later on, when she again found her voice, she said : 
 
 " When you came that night I had Sitara in the 
 house, and I did not dare leave her. I was anxious 
 and fearful, but I wanted so much, so very much, to 
 go, especially as I had thought you unkind for a long 
 time, and it must have been the effort I made to say 
 no that made my answer seem cold ; but that should 
 not have been enough for any, except a very faint 
 heart," she added, with a touch of the teasing spirit 
 which lurks in all women. 
 
 ' It was not all that. I had heard you say that a 
 true woman would save a man the pain and humiiia-
 
 CARNTON AND SIDNEY. 341 
 
 tion of a refusal by letting liiin know in an indefinite 
 way that she did not care for him. Your manner 
 seemed plain enough, and I put the two together." 
 
 ' Which," interrupted Sidney, with a happy laugh, 
 ' was very stupid. You should never, never put a 
 woman's two and two together. They are made 
 to be separate alag, alag, as our Hindoostanee friends 
 say." 
 
 " Very well, if you forgive me and make up the 
 loss to me by marrying me at once I will not at 
 least I will try not to do it again." 
 
 "Ah, that is another thing," said Sidney, shyly; 
 "there are too many things to be considered." 
 
 " Name them. I am ready, for during the last day 
 or two I- have met and conquered every obstacle that 
 you could possibly conjure up." 
 
 Sidney laughed at his earnestness and said, " Very 
 well, if you know them so well, suppose you enu 
 merate them ? " 
 
 " First, then, your duty to your society ; second, 
 your duty to your society; third, your duty to your 
 society, and so on ad infinitum, and that is all." 
 
 " Not all ; in fact, only the beginning. My work 
 is dear to me beyond expression. If I could only go 
 on with it, and and also do as you wisli ! How 
 can I give it up ? The women who stood by me in 
 all my trouble ; the schools that have not failed me ; 
 my assistants, especially the younger women, who 
 need my help, and the Bible women I have helped 
 them all I do not want to let them go." 
 
 ""Why need you? You can superintend them 
 from my our house as well, or nearly as well, as 
 from the place where you are living." 
 24
 
 342 Tin-; BISHOP'S CO.NVKK>IO.\. 
 
 Sidney looked at him with mingled affection and 
 amusement and with a shadow of vexation. 
 
 " Tliat shows just how muc!i you understand our 
 work, its difficulties, and its needs ; and then you be- 
 long to another society. My fostering mother would 
 hardly recognize me as her child after I had allied 
 myself with a foreign power." 
 
 "Well, we will arrange it some way satisfactorily." 
 he said, as Mrs. Clinton came into the drawing room. 
 
 lie rose, saying under his voice, " I shall tell her; 
 she has been so kind. Come 
 
 Sidney arose, and, taking the arm extended to her, 
 went in happily to be presented to Mrs. Clinton, who, 
 when she saw them enter thus, turned quickly and 
 brought the Bishop, who, astonished and glad, gave 
 them a blessing; and then, as Sidney said she wished 
 to go at once, they had good-night prayers, as was the 
 custom in the mission, and the Bishop craved a bless 
 ing from God on the two vounar lives which were to 
 
 ml O 
 
 be united in love and in their devotion to the welfare 
 of others. 
 
 Was there ever such a drive home as Sidney had 
 that night ? 
 
 "I think I may this night venture to drive home 
 with her," he had said, smilingly, to Mrs. Clinton : 
 "I can now defy the Hindoostanee Mrs. Grundy." 
 And, Sidney's eyes giving consent, he went. 
 
 The white moonlight, pouring a silver flood over 
 tamarind and mango, over dome and minaret and 
 temple, over all in luxuriant splendor, seemed made 
 for them. It was a night for love and sweet words 
 and sweeter silences, and these two people knew it, 
 and wasted neither time nor opportunity.
 
 SMALLPOX. 343 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SMALLPOX. 
 
 Lot weather was beginning to lose its hold, 
 _1_ and everybody was glad, though it was still too 
 warm to be more than passively glad. 
 
 People Avho had got almost to the end of their 
 strength kept up hope, thinking they would pull 
 through if the eold weather came soon, and looked 
 forward to the time when exhaustion and steamy 
 heat and cholera and fever would give place to vigor 
 and cold and smallpox and fever to the time when 
 fruit and vegetables would once more appear on the 
 table and when it would be possible to think of meat 
 without a qualm; when the troublesome, tiresome, 
 ever-present white clothes might be exchanged for 
 dark ones, even though they were far from fresh and 
 h:id the charnel-house odor that all woolen clothes 
 get, no matter how well put away in tin-lined boxes. 
 
 The cold weather was really coming, far the pun 
 kahs were being taken down, bungalows were re 
 ceiving their annual whitewashing, and people were 
 coming back from the hills with renewed strength. 
 Lillian, among the number, had come down with Mrs. 
 Mackenzie and Katie, both children wildly happy to 
 be home again. This going to the hills was one of 
 the points Bishop Clinton, as well as his wife, had 
 objected to at the beginning of the hot weather, but
 
 344 THK BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 before the middle of it the former was one of the 
 strongest to urge men and women that were in danger 
 of breaking down to take a few weeks out of the 
 heat ere the doctor ordered it, saying that prevention 
 \vas better and less expensive to the mission than cure. 
 Perhaps he had been helped to see tin's by the fact that 
 Lillian was obliged to go and that lie knew his wife 
 ought to have gone. It helps wonderfully toward a 
 liberal view of things to have one's own in dire straits. 
 
 But Mrs. Clinton had pulled through, partly be 
 cause she had determined to do so with a persistent 
 obstinacy that was a surprise to her husband. She 
 had kept up a little mission work, though much of 
 the time it had been of a very passive kind ; still even 
 that had its influence. But she had often visited her 
 protegee, Pulmoni, who was now going regularly to 
 the Lady Dufferm School for Nurses, and now that 
 the heat was abating she was again going out to the 
 zenanas twice a week. 
 
 She had a Bible woman always with her who knew 
 English, and who did much or nearly all of the teach 
 ing, and through her she was able to leave some word 
 of truth with the women each time that was remem 
 bered perhaps better because of the fewness of her 
 words, because of the novelty of having a great Mem 
 Sahib come to see them, and still more because of her 
 tact and of her loving heart and sympathetic ways. 
 The women always asked about her children, and evi 
 dently felt much respect for her because she had two 
 grown-up sons, and also showed much interest in Lil 
 lian Baba, whom many of them had seen on private 
 visits to Mrs. Clinton and in the few times she had 
 been to the zenanas with her mother.
 
 SMALLPOX. 345 
 
 Lillian liked going, and always said stoutly that she 
 would be a missionary like Sidney, and that she ought 
 to be allowed to go with her mother, because she was 
 going to teach in the zenanas when she grew up. 
 Mrs. Clinton had been advised not to take her, as there 
 were many reasons why the zenanas were not a good 
 place for a little girl. But one morning Mrs. Clinton 
 was going to visit a particularly agreeable family 
 that had often begged her to bring Lillian, and she 
 yielded and took her. 
 
 They left the gari at a narrow street and passed on 
 down by walls and shops and fat, shiny, brown chil 
 dren playing by huge wells, past mosques, and around 
 square corners until the Bible woman rattled a loose 
 door in' a mud wall and called out, " Ham awe!" 
 which was answered by a shaky, shivery old man 
 who led them at once into a courtyard and then 
 through an arched gateway into another courtyard. 
 The house on one side of this yard was two stories 
 high ; the side opposite to this was an arcade filled 
 with various cooking- pots and housekeeping appli 
 ances of the most primitive order. The other and 
 opposite sides of the square were arcades with 
 double rows of arches and pillars and carpeted 
 floors, arrived at by wide steps, being about four feet 
 above the ground. 
 
 Here, sitting on the floor with their second-best 
 gauze chuddars and silk gowns of all colors, were a 
 dozen women. They were evidently expecting visit 
 ors, for these same women ordinarily wore cotton 
 clothes of the simplest kind. They had on also their 
 second-best jewels; their very best clothes and jewels 
 always being kept like those of their sisters the world
 
 340 - THE BISHOP'S Cox VERSION. 
 
 over for weddings and dinners of ceremony. Lillian 
 loved these women as soon as she saw them. They 
 were so pretty and so gentle, and their clothes flung 
 such sweet odors about them as they moved ; their 
 rings and bangles and toe rings made such a delicious 
 tinkle, softened by the swish of their silken garment?, 
 and she felt so obliged to them for making her nurs 
 ery vision true, of the fair woman who, with " rings 
 on her finders and bells on her toes," has " music wher- 
 
 O f 
 
 ever she goes." 
 
 And, too, they each seemed as much little girls as 
 she herself, and even mere, for the one thing that 
 delighted them more than an English child was an Eng 
 lish doll. So Lillian had brought a doll to leave with 
 them, though she herself was quite done with dolls. 
 She and the doll both were seized by the younger 
 women, who passed their babies to their nurses in 
 order to take the doll to examine its hair, its eyes, its 
 clothes, wild with delight as they found each garment. 
 Avonld come off and could be put on again with won 
 derful buttons and buttonholes, unknown agencies 
 with them. There is even no word for button in the 
 Ilindoostanee language, and no use for buttonholes ; 
 the Hindoo woman's dress being one garment draped 
 artistically about the body and over the head, and the 
 Mohammedan woman's clothes either draped or tied 
 with strings. 
 
 After they had finished with the doll and over 
 whelmed Lillian with caresses for bringing it, they 
 then came around Mrs. Clinton like a flock of gay, 
 bright-colored birds, chirping questions. One ex 
 claimed that the wonderful lady who had come to see 
 them "had stockings on her hands," referring to the.
 
 MRS. CLINTON AND LILLIAN IN A ZENANA.
 
 SMALLPOX. 847 
 
 long Suede gloves she wore ; another asked why the 
 Mem Sahibs did not cut holes in their ears and noses 
 for jewels. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton told them that many white women did 
 cut holes in their ears for jewels, bnt that they thought 
 it barbarous and unbecoming and unbeautiful to cut 
 holes in their noses. 
 
 At this there was a wondering silence and looks of 
 incredulity on their faces. 
 
 " But how can that be ? " said one, finally. " Is the 
 nose an ugly feature, that it cannot be given a jewel 1 
 Or is it more honor to the ear they wish to give?" 
 
 Mrs. Clinton had not a word to say. She had al 
 ways herself thought it a very barbarous custom to 
 cut the flesh in any place, whether ear or nose, for 
 jewels, and therefore she had no excuse to offer. To 
 turn their attention she said her countrywomen, how 
 ever, wore rings on their fingers. 
 
 " And on their toes, like us ? " 
 
 "No, no; but they wear things like these," taking 
 the tiny perfect hand of the questioner in hers and 
 touching the heavy bangles. 
 
 "And like these?" putting out a perfect foot that 
 matched the hand, showing so many and such heavy 
 gold and silver anklets that the foot was raised with 
 difficulty. 
 
 "No, only on the wrists;" and again she could not 
 explain why it was nice and proper to wear metals on 
 wrists but not on ankles. 
 
 There was a little murmur of wonder, and then they 
 wandered to other subjects " How many children 
 had she? and was it true that Mem Sahibs had men 
 to nurse them when they were ill, and that English
 
 548 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 women did not love their babies and would not give 
 them their own natural food ? that as soon as the 
 sons were married they were turned out of the house 
 and obliged to find a house for themselves : '" 
 
 She had to say it was the eusto:n for the sons to 
 have their own houses, and they preferred it: it was 
 
 */ 1 
 
 no cruelty. This, too, they could not understand, as 
 in India every son brings his wife home to share his 
 parents' house and be ruled over by his mother. She 
 answered all their questions with patience, and some 
 times amusement. There was a discussion among the 
 women why Lillian was so white and their daughters 
 
 / 
 
 so black, and one concluded it was because she used a 
 particular kind of soap, but she was laughed to scorn 
 by the more intelligent ones, who had had it explained 
 years ago to their satisfaction that is, that it was 
 the Mem Sahib's caste to be white and theirs to be 
 black. 
 
 Then a tray was brought, on which was a little sil 
 ver dish of cardamom seeds, some pan, and two tin 
 sel necklaces, or hars, which were hung respectively 
 around her own and Lillian's necks, and the cardamom 
 seeds given them to eat and the pan to chew. 
 
 Lillian liked the latter, but Mrs. Clinton kept hers 
 in her hand. 
 
 There was a little baby, that was kept rather in the 
 background and nearly covered. The mother, a lovely 
 child-woman, hardly larger than Lillian herself, had 
 been much interested in the doll and Lillian, fondling 
 both with affectionate delight. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton asked casually why that baby, too, had 
 not been brought forward for inspection, like the 
 others. The Bible woman looked grave at the answer.
 
 SMALLPOX. 349 
 
 and did not translate all the woman said, simply stating 
 that the baby was ill. 
 
 " What kind of illness 2 " asked Mrs. Clinton. 
 
 " It is ill, but it will soon be better, and will it 
 please your honor to go now ? " she said, a little ur 
 gently. 
 
 " But first let us see if we cannot do something for 
 
 o 
 
 the poor little baby. Bring it to me." 
 
 " Pardon me, your honor, but it is a sickness that 
 English people do not like." 
 
 " Then tell me at once what it is." 
 
 " Smallpox. It will be better to go now. All Mem 
 Sahibs do very much not like this disease." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton was silent with terror, not for herself, 
 but for Lillian, for she remembered that the mother 
 had had her sick baby in her lap just before she had 
 put her arms around Lillian. 
 
 She took her leave without any apparent hurry and 
 with her usual sweetness, but told Lillian not to em 
 brace any of them or to even shake hands. 
 
 The visit had been long, and there was no thought 
 among them that there was any precipitancy, but Mrs. 
 Clinton was silent on the long drive, which seemed 
 doubly long. The Bible woman was evidently trou 
 bled, though 'she tried to say that there was little dan 
 ger and begged her not to be anxious. 
 
 "\Vhen they were finally home Mrs. Clinton gave 
 Lillian some disinfectant, and sent her to change all 
 her clothes and have a bath. She herself went into her 
 bath room for the same purpose, but when she was 
 alone she sat down suddenly on her chair, unable to 
 go any further. Time passed and still she sat as 
 though stunned, her hands clasped tight in her lap
 
 350 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 and her face white and drawn. The hot season and 
 the rains had told on her told on her as she had not 
 guessed, but as her friends were seeing with some ap 
 prehension. Now even a stranger might have been 
 startled at the pale gray tone of her skin and the hol 
 lows under her eves and the fixed look as though she 
 saw some ghastly horror staling her in the face. 
 
 It was not the first time she had met this specter 
 face to face, but now she not alone shivered under his 
 gaze. Lillian, fair, dainty Lillian, had felt his breath 
 on her face, though all unconscious of her danger, and 
 because of this the full terribleness of life in India for 
 the first time seized hold of her. And she felt she was 
 not isolated in her agony. Nearly every missionary 
 wife was a mother, and while fearless for themselves 
 none could escape this deadly fear for their dear ones. 
 They could give their own lives, they could risk the 
 horror of infection for themselves, but what of risk 
 ing lives that had been committed to them? They 
 could pass in and out of the zenanas and schools, sub 
 ject to contagion from loathsome and deadly diseases, 
 with light hearts and clear, unfurrowcd brows, but how 
 could they go on as they had year after year, knowing 
 that there was no likelihood whatever of all the dear 
 little forms escaping and all the dear little feet walk 
 ing straight and unharmed through the terrible or 
 deal? She seemed to see all the hundreds of men 
 and women, brave and faithful, who had trod these 
 paths of thorns with torn and bleeding feet, but with 
 out one murmur or even one thought of heroism. 
 And she she had been blind ; but now with clear 
 vision she saw that many a mother who could be 
 brave and cheerful in daylight, in action, when faith
 
 SMALLPOX. 351 
 
 could be upheld by the energy of work, dreaded the 
 long hot nights when sleep was impossible, when she 
 could only feel her empty arms, that ached more from 
 their emptiness than ever they did with the weight of 
 the dear burden, and could only see the pained, dis 
 torted face of her darling appealing to her through the 
 darkness; and many a father who, as he went about 
 his work, could rest in firm confidence on his call to 
 help evangelize the world, at midnight could only 
 turn on his bed with suppressed groans because of the 
 bitter loss and because of a sense of the injustice done 
 to the helpless, loving little things in exposing them 
 to disease that had resulted in sudden and sharp or in 
 lingering and painful death. There were little graves 
 in Bareilly, in S hah jehan poor, in Cawnpoor, in Luck- 
 now, here and there all over India, whose little white 
 stones she seemed to see gleaming through the distance 
 with reproach. They seemed to be saying : 
 
 " A\^e are a part of that easy, luxurious life that 
 they have said our mothers have led. We are a part 
 of the sacrifice of burnt offering. Our mothers gave 
 themselves and us, that the poor people might learn 
 of Christ ; but was it not hard ( " 
 
 Yes, but Lillian she was not part of a life-sacri 
 fice she was part of a whim, a love of novelty, a 
 wish to justify their own views, a dissatisfaction with 
 the work of the toilers in this awful land. 
 
 It was horrible, horrible. Now that the terrors 
 of heat, apoplexy, and cholera were hardly past, and 
 while in the midst of the fever season, when people 
 were dying right and left, there must come also this 
 most loathsome of all diseases. Could she have taken 
 her husband and Lillian and fled to her own home
 
 352 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 she would have gone at once ; and yet the possi 
 bility of Lillian taking smallpox did not seem great, 
 for she had been vaccinated, and never had been a 
 child to contract disease of any kind. It was the 
 general horror of living a life never one moment free 
 from terror smallpox, cholera, leprosy, fever, and 
 sunstroke, always ready to snatch a dear one ; never 
 waking in the morning with the certainty that the 
 sun's rays striking in one's eyes might not be inter 
 cepted before night by three feet of white sand. The 
 thought came with startling force that even now one 
 of those empty, yawning, ready-made graves kept in 
 India intent be waiting for herself or for one dearer 
 
 o o 
 
 than self to her. Only the day before had she seen 
 them in the cemetery where she had gone with Miss 
 Whitlow to put some flowers on Rokewood'a grave, 
 and the thought had hardly left her since, and this 
 new danger seemed only a part of a ghastly life in a 
 horrible country. 
 
 After five days five days of harassing suspense, in 
 spite of reason Lillian was prostrate in her little bed, 
 moaning with fever and raving in delirium. 
 
 When it was first known the doctor, a brusque 
 man with a kind heart, ordered strict quarantine, and 
 Carnton had sent a message to each mission house, 
 telling of the calamity and of the doctor's orders. 
 
 It was a blow to all, for Lillian had from the first 
 been taken into all hearts. And then, too, all the 
 members of this great mission circle feel a blow to 
 one as they would, in a less degree, to themselves ; for 
 it only shows them more clearly the dangers revolving 
 around them. It is a circle that may be divided on 
 plans and processes and polity, but in calamity it is
 
 SMALLPOX. 
 
 <>ne, and there was not one of all that band that would 
 not have gone gladly to Mrs. Clinton and nursed 
 Lillian as though she were her own, had there been 
 need, or had they even been allowed. But at once, 
 on hearing it, a much-sin neel-against Eurasian girl 
 whom Miss Whitlow had sheltered in time of calam 
 ity direst of all that can fall to a woman, because of 
 the sin it represents, came forward and offered at 
 once to go and nurse Lillian. This was especially 
 fortunate, for she had been two years in the Lady 
 Dufferin Xursing School, purposing to be a nurse; 
 and Pulmoni also, Mrs. Clinton's protegee, begged so 
 earnestly to go to the Mem Sahib who had done so 
 much for her that Dr. Milburn excused them both 
 from their attendance on their classes. So the mis 
 sionaries went on with their work, feeling that Lillian 
 was cared for better than they could have done it, 
 more than ever glad that these women, Ethel Lyori 
 and Pulmoni, had been saved, and praying much that 
 grace for every need should be given. 
 
 And then when Lillian grew worse, and there 
 was little hope of her being better, Sidney went to 
 Miss Whitlow, and they arranged to go and remain 
 alternately in the house, that Mrs. Clinton might 
 have the comfort of knowing some friend was with 
 her. 
 
 Sidney was to be the first, and went up to the 
 Clintons' bungalow after dinner to stay during the 
 night. She entered quietly, having left her gari at 
 some distance. It was so quiet that the house seemed 
 empty, but outside the blacksmith bird still beat the 
 air with his endless, never-quiet note. The brain- 
 fever bird, however, was gone dead perhaps of the
 
 354 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 very disease with which he had been threatening the 
 world from the time lie conld form a note. 
 
 The vines over the veranda, the dense dark green 
 of the trees, and the rank grass in the compound were 
 soaked with the heavy night dew which caught the 
 white moonlight like a hoar-frost. Sidney saw Mrs. 
 Clinton for an instant, and her heart was wrung at 
 the sight of th'e careful composure with which she 
 spoke, the composure that comes only to one whose 
 nature, stretched to the uttermost, dares not give her 
 self the luxury of one little thought of self-pity ; or 
 dares not, even for a moment, take her eyes off the 
 beacon light of a duty in hand, fearing precipitation 
 in a hopeless abyss of helpless agony. Sidney could 
 only say to herself, as she sat quietly in a chair by 
 the door, that she was thankful that she had never 
 borne a child. 
 
 She looked vaguely at the corner of the veranda 
 where she had sat, not long before, on that ever- 
 blessed night with Carnton, but she could not go 
 there and sit. though the same chairs were there and 
 there was the same moonlight ; that little spot be 
 longed only to happiness, and had nothing to do with 
 the cruel bodily and mental suffering with which, 
 since she had seen Mrs. Clinton's face, and heard the 
 low muimur of Lillian's voice in delirium, the house 
 had seemed to be filled. 
 
 And here Carnton, coming in with quiet tread, 
 found her. lie came swiftly toward her, and, taking 
 her hands, said sternly : 
 
 " What are you doing here ? Why did you come ', 
 O, my darling, why did you come? You knew we 
 were in quarantine."
 
 SMALLPOX. 355 
 
 ''Yes; but I told the doctor that I was coining to 
 stay in the house ; we could not let Mrs. Clinton be 
 alone, and Miss "Whitlow will take my place when I 
 go. We will take every precaution, every care 
 
 " It is wrong, it is wrong," he said, in anxious 
 pain. 
 
 " !N"o, dear, it is right. Surely we can do for dear 
 friends what we do for strangers every clay. How 
 could we let Mrs. Clinton think we had deserted her? 
 I can see she is a little glad 1 am here, though she 
 Avill not let me come into the room and help her." 
 
 " If you had asked me I should not have allowed 
 you to come to the house, but now you are here 
 
 ." Now I am here I will stay." she said, speaking 
 quickly, "to cover her mingled feeling of pleasure and 
 surprise at his authoritative tone, but putting her 
 hand on his face with a tender little gesture all her 
 own. 
 
 " What did the doctor say to-night about Lillian ? " 
 he asked, presently. 
 
 ' He would say nothing." 
 
 Tears came into Cam ton's eyes. Lillian had been 
 a pet of his, his " dearest little friend," he had some 
 times said. 
 
 " Poor little lamb," he said, brokenly, and turned 
 and went back to his own bungalow. 
 
 Sidney sat down by the door and listened to the 
 unceasing murmur of the voice which had been so 
 sweet and clear, but which was now changed and un 
 recognizable. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton came out and said, inquiringly, 
 
 u Perhaps I ought to send you away ; I can hardly 
 
 tell what is right." 
 25
 
 356 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 "It is right for me to be here, I am sure. Cer 
 tainly you will let me risk as much for Lillian, whom 
 I love, as I do for strangers in the zenanas.'' 
 
 "But perhaps it would be better to wait until she 
 is not so ill. There will be long weeks of nursing 
 then, when my strength may give out. I shall surely 
 want help then." 
 
 " But there are others who will only be too glad to 
 come then. Do not think of me for an instant. I am 
 here to give you comfort ; not to add to your anxiety/' 
 
 Then Mrs. Clinton turned and went back quickly as 
 Lillian's voice grew louder. Sidney could hear it, an 
 indistinct, hurried jumble of school in Nairn Tal, of 
 the lake around which she thought she was walking ; 
 then she thought she was in a dandi and being car 
 ried up from the railway station at Kothgadani, up 
 the mountains, and talked of her fear that the coolies 
 would slip and thus throw her over the precipice ; 
 then sometimes of her loneliness and homesickness. 
 " Yes, Ally," she said, evidently to one of her girl 
 friends, " yes. Ally, I am wanting my mother so, but 
 you eee she is having an experiment, and she cannot 
 come ; and she goes to the zenanas and the women love 
 her, the pretty women with dear little hands and feet. 
 Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes one on 
 each toe ; but why put them in my head ? She was 
 to have them only on her toes. Why cut holes in my 
 head for rings or bells. There is one big bell like 
 the church bell, and it rings and it rings slowly, 
 slowly ring ring, so it goes. But where is mother '. 
 I am going to the zenanas too, like Miss Mellen, but 
 some way not now not now, but when I can walk 
 further no, when I am bigger, but not now ; " and
 
 SMALLPOX. 357 
 
 another time, " But why not now ? It is only to tell 
 of Christ, how he died on the cross. I think his 
 head must have ached like mine ; it does ache very 
 much, but I think I could go now ; it is a long time 
 to wait, and thousands and thousands will die without 
 knowing- about Christ ho\v they hung him on the 
 cross because he would tell them of a better way to 
 live ; but they would be glad " Then again, ' ; I think 
 I would better go now;" and she would sit up in bed, 
 while her mother with breaking heart would per 
 suade her to He down again, or sometimes would have 
 to hold her down. Ethel and Pulmoni were ready 
 with loving devotion, as also was the Christian woman 
 who had been Lillian's ayah. 
 
 "But I want mother so much. The lake looks hot- 
 to-day, or is it my head ? Do you think it is cooler 
 down below ? Perhaps if I put my head away down, 
 down below the shadows of the willows, down below 
 even where the goddess goes, it might be cool, but I 
 don't see why mother does not come. The teachers 
 are good, but I don't think they are mothers. I would 
 go to find her, but there are snakes on the floor, al 
 ways cobras and cobras, and lizards, too, but I \vill go 
 when the light comes, so I can see to step over them. 
 It will be morning after a while, and then I will go ; 
 when I find her I will hold her hard and never let go. 
 I will go when the light comes;" and the frantic, 
 maddened mother would take her hand and murmur 
 words of assurance and tender names which would 
 quiet her for a while. 
 
 The sting of it all was the experiment part of it. 
 Had they felt the call of God to come to this work 
 there would not have been this bitterness; but it was
 
 358 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 their own experiment, and was God in thus rebuking 
 them, was he not rebuking them in stern anger yea, 
 was he not chastising them ? and how soon would he 
 think their punishment heavy enough ? And then 
 there came a day when she heard a voice in her heart. 
 " Be still, and know that I am God ; " and she was 
 still, and waited, leaving everything to him, even her 
 own mistake in coming, her own mistake in staying 
 if it were a mistake and her mistake in taking Lillian 
 
 o 
 
 to the zenana. 
 
 Ever afterward the whole terrible time remained in 
 her memory as one long day a day wherein some 
 times the lamps were lighted and sometimes there 
 was daylight ; a day in which the doctor seemed ever 
 to come and go, but a day in which they all were 
 helpless, cruel witnesses of pain and suffering so 
 great that it seemed to nil the whole world ; a day 
 such as one might have in eternity, if eternity holds 
 any agony so keen, so crushing, so terrible that it can 
 take the life out of heart and brain and leave one 
 simply an object that walks, hardly knowing how or 
 why that breathes, and can, by forcing itself to do so, 
 say words of which it hardly knows the meaning ; but 
 an object that really belongs with that innumerable 
 throng which had passed to the other side of the line 
 that divides the living and the dead. 
 
 There were weeping and hushed voices in many a 
 little home where dark-eyed mothers told their little 
 ones that the beautiful-faced Miss Baba was going to 
 die, and she was dying because one of their number 
 one of them had not been honest and true, and 
 warned her mother, the great Mem Sahib, that there 
 was smallpox in her house.
 
 SMALLPOX. 359 
 
 Then, after a dreary while, the agony ended, and 
 Ethel Lyon, who had so faithfully helped them, lifted 
 the poor bloated, diseased little form, placed it in the 
 box, and then the father closed and nailed it. As he 
 did this the self-control which had come from his firm 
 reliance on God gave way, and a cry so bitter, so full 
 of agony, broke from him that Ethel fled, and his 
 wife, forgetting her own sorrow, went to him and 
 held his head in her arms, comforting him, stroking 
 his hair, and saying tender words over him as though 
 lie were the child that had been hidden from sight. 
 
 o 
 
 After that they seemed to have reached the Xir- 
 vana of sorrow. Nothing could touch them or make 
 them feel more acutely. The long drive to the cem 
 etery, the dreary outlook across the plains from it, 
 the lowering of the coffin into a grave that might be 
 torn open by jackals or washed away by the rains, 
 could not give them one added pang.
 
 360 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HOME AGAIN. 
 
 Bishop and Mrs. Clinton returned from the 
 _|_ cemetery to Carnton's bungalow to stay while 
 their own was being disinfected. Of course they 
 were all in quarantine, but it was not very strictly 
 kept, for in the matter of smallpox, as well as other 
 things, familiarity breeds contempt. This is not a for 
 tunate thing, for contempt has no disinfecting power, 
 nor is it in any way a protection from contagion. 
 Sidney and Miss "Whitlow, especially, had been with 
 them so much they did not think it necessary to 
 stay away now, and messages, notes, and fruit and 
 flowers, which were again beginning to appear in mar 
 ket, came pouring in on them at all times of the day 
 from the various people they had become acquainted 
 with in Lucknow. And from all over India, from 
 Simla to Calcutta, from Kaini Tal to Madras, en me 
 letters of sympathy to those sorely stricken parents 
 letters that the Bishop put away in a box for his 
 wife to read some future day. 
 
 He had seen the effect on her of a few that she her 
 self had opened and read, and thereafter he watched 
 the mail, took the letters away and read them quietly, 
 feelino- that it was almost more than he himself, with 
 
 O * 
 
 all his composure, could bear. But there was a sweet 
 ness in them that, apart from the earnest sympathy
 
 HOME AGAIN. 361 
 
 expressed, or because of it, was precious to him, for 
 it told of the universal brotherhood existing between 
 all who were serving Christ in that dreary land; and 
 there was a feeling of gladness that he had, even for 
 so short a time, been one of a band bound together by 
 a tie so strong and tender; and a new hope for India's 
 millions entered his heart. 
 
 It was a quiet household, almost as quiet as when 
 Carnton had been there alone. The Bishop was writ 
 ing much, and Mrs. Clinton sat with a book in her 
 hands, whose leaves she never turned, looking idly 
 out on the ever-moving stream of native people pass 
 ing and on the flocks of emerald-green parrots flying 
 from one tree to another, screaming as they went. 
 
 Carnton came in rather excitedly one day as she 
 was sitting thus, and told her that a new zenana mis 
 sionary was on her way out from London, and that 
 another, an old and experienced missionary lady from 
 Calcutta, had written to say that she required a change 
 of climate and would come and assist Miss Mellen for 
 six months; which was so unusual a combination of 
 circumstances that it must mean only one thing that 
 is, that it was best for him and Sidney to be married 
 at once, though Sidney herself would not be con 
 vinced as yet ; but he said it all joyfully, as though he 
 did not really doubt the final result. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton smiled as she answered that she knew 
 it would be as he wished. Carnton did not like her 
 smile. There was a settled sadness in it that had no 
 relation to natural, healthy grief. It was almost de 
 spair not quite, but as near it as one having a hope 
 of a glorious resurrection could experience. It was 
 the smile that comes when there is a settled convic-
 
 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 tion that all one's days will hereafter be spent in a. 
 communion Avith pain ; that absolutely never in this 
 world will a ray of pleasure permeate one's life, and 
 that not the faintest thrill of joy can again ever stir 
 one's heart. Such can smile, but cannot weep. 
 Weeping means sorrow that will endure for a season, 
 but that joy will come in the morning. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton knew there would no morning ever 
 come to her grief. This passive grief and her pallid, 
 lifeless face caused the doctor to give unasked advice 
 to the Bishop. It was the good doctor, the kind, the 
 patient, the never-failing friend of the missionary, 
 who, meeting the Bishop one day, said to him : 
 
 " Why do yon stay here ? If nothing urgent keeps 
 you, you would better go at once." 
 
 " I do not think it can be managed/' answered the 
 Bishop, briefly. lie was thinking of his wife, whom 
 he feared could not be persuaded to give up the plan 
 of staying a year. lie had a strange feeling since 
 Lillian's death that even her slightest wish must not 
 be opposed. This silent, uncomplaining, changeless 
 grief was appalling to him. 
 
 '* But you must go ; you must arrange it." persisted 
 the doctor. 
 
 The Bishop shook his head. He was recalling the 
 time when he had once suggested it to his wife and 
 she had refused, reminding him of his promise. 
 
 The doctor was getting impatient. He thought it 
 was indifference in the Bishop. 
 
 " My dear sir, the first thing I heard of you was 
 that you thought there should be more missionary 
 
 / 
 
 graves in India. Surely you cannot wish to add an 
 other!"
 
 ITOMK Ar.AiN. 363 
 
 The Bishop turned white at this sharp thrust. He 
 had forgotten his remark, and it almost seemed as 
 though it were another man who had made it, so little 
 could he recall the attitude of mind he had been in 
 when he came to India ; but he said, with grave pa 
 tience, born of his great sorrow, 
 
 " No. Are you thinking of my wife ? " 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Bishop," said the doctor, "I 
 wished only to tell you that it is necessary that your 
 wife be at once removed from all this, and I did it 
 awkwardly, as usual, but slie must go." 
 
 "In that case I will write to-day for a passage, and 
 we can leave next week." 
 
 "That is right," was the hearty response; "this 
 country is no place for any white man that is not 
 obliged by his conscience or his finances to be 
 here." 
 
 And the Bishop murmured a solemn and strong 
 amen. 
 
 His wife said nothing when he told her their pas 
 sage was engaged, but yielded passively, which made 
 him more troubled than ever. Their quarantine was 
 ended by the time they were packed up. Only once 
 did Mrs. Clinton break down, and that was when 
 packing up some of Lillian's books that her brothers 
 had sent her; and she said, as she wrung her hands: 
 
 "How can we meet the boys without their sister? 
 How can we live through the landing in New York 
 alone?" 
 
 This made the Bishop ponder, and as a result he 
 had the passage transferred two weeks later, and 
 wrote his brother-bishops that he would do the work 
 in Bulgaria and Italy and Norway and Sweden, if they
 
 3*4 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 liked, instead of taking the full year of vacation they 
 had arranged for him. 
 
 He thought it might be well not only to let the 
 truth come to the boys gradually that Lillian, their 
 pet and pride, was really gone, but to have the terri 
 ble ordeal of seeing them be later, when his wife was 
 stronger physically, and when time had done what it 
 could for her. 
 
 The day before they started the pastor of the native 
 church had announced that the Bishop and also Mrs. 
 Clinton, if she was able, would be at the Sunday 
 afternoon service, as they would like from there to 
 bid their native friends good-bye. 
 
 The old church, the dear old church (since replaced 
 by a large new one) that had held so many farewell 
 meetings, was full, but the Bishop came alone, for 
 Mrs. Clinton had at the last seemed to feel it too much 
 of an ordeal, and was so white and trembling that he 
 led her back to the sitting room, and, kissing her 
 tenderly, said firmly that she must not go, and then 
 went away himself. 
 
 The Bishop sat inside the altar railing in front of 
 the pulpit and looked down over the audience, trying 
 to fix the whole scene as well as individual faces in 
 his memory. The young men and boys from the 
 Centennial School, the girls in their pretty white 
 chuddars, back of them the women from the Home, 
 and then the body of the church filled with clerks 
 from the railway or various offices, earnest, intelligent 
 men, sitting comfortably with wife and family at 
 their sides, and servants, teachers, and several pastors 
 who had work in different parts of the city. And 
 again was he struck with the different expression and
 
 HOME AGAIN. 365 
 
 almost the different face Christianity gives to a human 
 being. He knew lie was not mistaken, for here and 
 there in the audience were men whom he himself had 
 baptized and whom he had watched through the trans 
 formation, and who now looked like different men, 
 simply because they were different men. The native 
 pastor, a fine, intelligent man, read an address in Urdu, 
 which was translated into English by the Sunday 
 school superintendent, dressed in English clothes, and 
 who spoke English well. Its purport was to the effect 
 that the whole Christian community had welcomed 
 with pleasure his visit to them, but the actual effect 
 of his visit had far exceeded their expectation ; that 
 one in his high position could leave all and labor like 
 one of themselves had taught them anew the beauty 
 of the sacritice of Jesus Christ ; had taught them that 
 his followers could also, in some degree, really partake 
 of the spirit of their Master. I3ut what could they 
 say when the thought of what this devotion had cost 
 was presented to their minds? They could say noth 
 ing, for no words would express what they felt. Their 
 hearts had been bowed down with grief, and they 
 could only say that they could never forget the beauti 
 ful child who had been so gentle and loving ; and 
 they realized with new force and sweetness what it 
 meant to have a hope of life after the grave, what it 
 meant to feel sure of seeing again the sweet face of 
 the dear child. 
 
 At first the Bishop could say nothing, and thought 
 it useless to try, but he commanded himself finally 
 and answered : 
 
 " If, as you say, you all will remember the dear little 
 face and the dear little form of one that loved you all
 
 366 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 well, let each thought of her help you to a better life, 
 to more love to God, to more love to those about 
 you. She was ever loving, ever thoughtful of others, 
 and the earnest resolve of her heart was to live to 
 teach the people of this laud of the love of God for 
 his sinful children, that they might be saved through 
 believing in our Lord Jesus Christ. Will you to-day 
 resolve not to allow her life to have been in vain to 
 remember her, and always, always with the thought 
 of carrying out her plans, to do what she would have 
 done?" His eyes were on the girls from Miss Dil 
 lon's school, many of them not older than Lillian. 
 " Take up the golden thread where it has been broken 
 and weave a cord that shall bind many to the truth. 
 Think of her sweetness, of her love for you, and 
 make her resolution to lead many to know that there 
 is salvation from sin, and from the consequences of sin, 
 your resolution ; make it the one motive of your life, 
 and so our hearts may be comforted with the thought 
 that she still lives in your hearts and in the lives of 
 many won to the truth." 
 
 His voice broke at the last. Carnton had feared 
 that the Bishop was beginning something which even 
 he could not bear. Tears were in many eyes and 
 rolling down many cheeks. Carnton himself could 
 hardly sustain his composure. Lillian had been so 
 much connected in his mind with Sidney, from the 
 first, and then her little loving ways and her ab 
 solute friendliness with every living soul had made 
 her very dear. 
 
 The address was placed in a silver box and given 
 to the Bishop, and the hand-shakes given him were 
 none the less hearty and affectionate because he had
 
 HOMK AGAIN. 367 
 
 not been born under their flag and speaking their 
 tongue. 
 
 The next morning there was a quiet departure from 
 Lucknow for the Xorth. 
 
 The Bishop felt it would not be just to the Church 
 he served, nor to the brother-bishops who had taken 
 his work during his absence, to leave India without 
 seeing more of the work than was embraced in the 
 limits of Lucknow, and, too, he hoped it might be a 
 distraction to his wife. She had little packing to do, 
 as now she had no interest in all the pretty Indian 
 embroidery and bric-a-brac. Perhaps it was as well 
 she had not, for the allowance she had planned had 
 been overdrawn, and she did not like to think of the 
 inroads that had been made on the bank account or 
 that would be made by the extra tour ; but she said 
 nothing. It did not really matter nothing really 
 mattered. Life could never be aught but a continued 
 pain, for a shadow had fallen on her which never 
 would be dispersed until pierced by the glory of the 
 Only-begotten of the Father which was before the 
 world bewail. 
 
 
 
 So they went to Shahjehanpoor and saw the orphan 
 boys learning trades by which to support themselves 
 and their families ; saw the girls' school, where the 
 children of native Christians of the remote districts 
 are gathered, then hurried on to Budaon and sa\v 
 village work and the schools ; then on to Bareilly to 
 see the theological school, from which yearly many 
 fully qualified preachers and teachers are sent out and 
 scattered up and down India ; saw the school for the 
 wives of these same students where they are taught 
 by the precept and example of the wife of the good
 
 368 THK BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 president to be fit helpmeets to their husbands, to 
 feel that they have a calling and a work no less sacred 
 and obligatory and precious than that of their hus 
 bands ; saw the great girls' orphanage, moving in or 
 derly systematic lines, from which will come women 
 for the future body of the Church ; saw the medical 
 work and the dispensary where are given medicine for 
 the body and the word of life for the souls of the poor 
 women who throng the place daily ; saw the native 
 church, the boys' day schools and the girls' day schools. 
 Then on to Moradabad, where perhaps all conditions 
 combine for a model mission a city compact and 
 not too large; strong, faithful missionaries, who have 
 had twenty -five years of steady, hard, wise work, and 
 where the progress of the surrounding country has 
 kept in line with that of the central town ; where 
 schools with pastor-teachers, founded by the wise gen 
 erosity of one liberal man, have uplifted the peasant 
 population and made them ready to receive the direct 
 preaching when it could be given to them ; with the 
 girls' and boys' high schools, and a church organized, 
 self-respectful and wide-awake, with its flourishing 
 Ep worth League, its Woman's Missionary Society, its 
 Sunday school, its class and prayer meetings. 
 
 The Bishop gave up his last struggle for entire 
 evangelical work when he saw this. He saw that 
 
 O 
 
 while he and the other powers of the Church had 
 been thinking of mission work forever being mission 
 work thinking of it as a jellyfish sort of thing 
 a Church with frame and backbone and articulation 
 had been growing. When he found an enthusiastic 
 circle of young people looking forward to the Ep- 
 worth League night and preparing for debates and
 
 HOME AGAIX. 369 
 
 essays and recitations ; when lie heard the reports of the 
 various committees on work, and all the regular rou 
 tine of that wonderful organization; when he attended 
 the woman's missionary meeting- and saw the president 
 in her chuddar presiding with the usual ease and grace 
 ever predicated of lady presidents saw all the machin 
 ery of a Christian community moving () n \vith a spirit 
 of earnestness and business, he said to himself : "I have 
 been dreaming. I thought Lucknow was an excep 
 tional place, but I find in each place I visit the same 
 or even more exceptional qualities." 
 
 Mrs. Clinton saw a part of the work he was not al 
 lowed to see the zenana and day school work ; but it 
 io all chronicled in the annual reports of the woman's 
 work ; all that they saw in the various stations, and there 
 also are many things told that they did not see. 
 
 Then he wished to go on to Agra and Delhi and 
 Jeypore, but the missionaries at Moradabad said they 
 were not done with him yet. He must go to the an 
 nual Christian fair, held at Chandausi. And again 
 Mrs. Clinton acquiesced. She was glad to find her 
 husband could be interested, glad that there was any 
 thing to lift his mind off the terrible visions of the 
 suffering child that never for a moment left her. 
 Sometimes she talked feverishly, hoping to forget it, 
 feeling that only by keeping her mind off of it, keep 
 ing the picture of her child's sufferings out of her 
 mind, would she be saved from madness. Other 
 times she gave up to it, finding the effort to fight it 
 too much, and yet in all this she did not murmur. 
 She felt that even though it might have been a mis 
 take to take Lillian to the zenana God haci allowed 
 it all to be done, and some way, some way that shg
 
 370 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION: 
 
 could not see, he could bring good out of it; but she 
 had this terrible thought always before her, that the 
 particular suffering Lillian had gone through would 
 have been saved had she not proposed coming, or had 
 she acquiesced when her husband had in a desperate 
 moment proposed going back. It was an ever-haunt 
 ing suggestion, a double-edged dagger, ever thrusting 
 itself anew into her heart ; but trying to bring a little 
 good out of it all, trying to save the remnant of her 
 life, she made an effort to be interested in all she 
 saw, to remember everything, that she might tell 
 them at home ; tried to stamp on her mind the face 
 and name, as well as the plans, thoughts, and devo 
 tion, of each zenana teacher, each school superintend 
 ent, each lady doctor, each missionary's wife, that she 
 might, when stronger, when God would give her spir 
 itual and mental and physical life again, tell all to the 
 dear, hard-working ladies at home, no less hard-work 
 ing and self-sacrificing than many who had come, but 
 it was dreary, and almost, though not quite, hopeless 
 work. She hardly seemed to notice the change from 
 one station to another, and one day she found they 
 were at a native Christian fair, or inela, which in 
 character corresponds to the American camp meeting. 
 
 Think of long lines of straw tents, in front of each 
 a little fire, from which the blue smoke curled up 
 against the pale gold of the straw; on the fires sinn 
 ing brass vase-shaped cooking-pots ; around the fires 
 women in red or green or purple chuddars, white oxen 
 grazing near, and the air full of the spicy smell of 
 cooking curry powder ; beyond the straw tents a few 
 white tents, where the missionaries were encamped. 
 
 Here were gathered together over two thousand
 
 HOME AGAIN. 371 
 
 Christians for the annual fair Christians isolated 
 from regular church services who had looked forward 
 to this time for the acquiring of a deeper spiritual life. 
 
 And when Bishop Clinton stood on the platform at 
 the first service stood beside the missionary bishop, 
 the little but mighty man, above whom he" loomed 
 like a giant and looked out over the mass of people 
 of another language and nationality, but of the same 
 religion, other tints of complexion, but with the same 
 heart of love for God and their fellow-men saw this 
 missionary bishop, who shoulders responsibilities 
 enough for ten bishops, move these thousands as one 
 man he got still another up-lift in his hope for and 
 belief in the India Mission. 
 
 When he heard him say that black would be white 
 and the Ganges would flow backward and Christianity 
 would become the national religion, both of Moham 
 medans and Hindoos ; that even now the work of the 
 Christian Church had become indigenous and would 
 propagate itself, even if their efforts were put forth 
 to stop it instead of to carry it forward ; that while 
 baptisms had numbered this year nineteen thousand 
 nearly three times those of any previous year 
 and he expected the following year the same ratio of 
 increase if men and money were provided to justify 
 the procedure when Bishop Clinton heard all this 
 and saw that great mass of Christians Christians only 
 because of sacrifice, first of Christ and afterward of 
 his followers who were full enough of love to lay aside 
 all minor considerations and determine to know only 
 one thing, Jesus Christ, and to live and let that one 
 thing show forth through all their lives when he 
 saw this mass of people rise and as with one voice sing
 
 372 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 the doxology, because of their leader's enthusiastic 
 prophecy, in faith believing that things even greater 
 than they hoped for would be done, he joined in 
 that song of triumph without for a moment noticing 
 that he sang the words in English and they sang them 
 in Ilindoostanee. After all, what are words but the ex 
 pressions of our thoughts, and the thought \vas the same 
 and expressed in the grand movement of the old tune 
 that one expects to hear sung by angelic choirs when 
 time shall be no more, when literally " every knee 
 shall bow and every tongue confess." 
 
 While the glow of this enthusiasm was on their 
 faces, and in the joyful hush that followed this out 
 burst of praise, Carnton and Sidney emerged from 
 the crowd, and in the Ilindoostanee marriage service, 
 which is only a translation of our own, were married. 
 This was not unexpected to the missionaries. 
 
 Sidney had said the memory of all Lillian and her 
 mother had suffered was too fresh and too much asso 
 ciated with everything in Lucknow to make her 
 happy in being married there, and yet she wanted 
 Mrs. Clinton to be present at her marriage, and so it 
 had finally come about that, as she was coming to 
 Chandausi to see Mrs. Clinton once more, that Carnton 
 had persuaded her to let the ceremony be there. 
 
 She was in a fresh, simple dress and bonnet, and he 
 in the ordinary dark morning suit usually worn by 
 men in the cold weather. 
 
 One of the greatest difficulties in work among the 
 Indian people is debt, and generally debt contracted 
 for wedding expenses, which must always be on an 
 extravagant scale, and handicaps many a family for 
 years, and even for generations, the debts being
 
 HOME AGAIN. 373 
 
 handed down. So for the sake of the influence of 
 example Sidney put aside the impulse to array her 
 self in fair and shining raiment, and Carnton, well 
 pleased, was deeply thankful that his life was to be 
 spent with one so willing to give up everything for 
 the people they both loved. 
 
 That evening as they stood at the door of their 
 tent, watching the sun like a ball of fire through the 
 dust-covered mango trees, they saw an ox-cart full of 
 native people coming slowly into the camp-ground. 
 Some way their attention was attracted as it stopped 
 and the women and children began to scramble out. 
 " It is always a fresh surprise to me," said Carnton, " to 
 see how many people a native conveyance can hold." 
 
 Sidney did not hear. Her eyes were fixed on ene 
 little woman in a red sari, who had left the group and 
 was coming swiftly toward them. In a moment she 
 was sobbing in Sidney's arms, and Sidney was crying, 
 
 "Do you not see? It is Sitara, my own little Sitara!" 
 
 Carnton, hardly less moved than Sidney, exclaimed, 
 
 "Sitara! Then she is still alive, and not gone to 
 her husband as we feared and hoped ! " 
 
 Sitara it was, indeed, alive and well, though thin 
 and with an expression of patient resignation that was 
 not on her face when Sidney had known her before. 
 
 " Yes, my dear Miss Sahib," in answer to their 
 eager inquiries, " God is good to let me again see 
 your face, and he has cared for me as you said he 
 would. Waziran, the old woman who was with us, 
 fled with me that same night after we were in court, 
 and we went back to our own village and to the 
 mother of Shew Pershad's cousins. There was ever 
 an unkind feeling between the mother of Shew Per-
 
 374: THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 shad and the mother of his cousins, and she was well 
 pleased that I came to her for refuge. She is getting 
 old, and her sons are away, and it was so that I could 
 make her food as she liked it, and I stayed on, but 
 ever hoping to return to Lucknow when there might 
 be an opportunity. There were some Christians, and 
 when I could I talked with them, but not often. 
 They always said, 'Wait for this mela, and then you 
 will come with us and find your friend ; ' but my 
 heart was always heavy, and I feared ; but God is good, 
 and notwithstanding my fears I am with you again. 
 And never once did I forget to pray to him morn 
 ing and night, and never once did I bow to those 
 idiotic images which my people worship; and Wa/i- 
 ran is also with me, and will bo as I am, a Christian." 
 The world was full of songs of joy for Sidney. 
 Never till this moment had she known just how heavy 
 a burden had been the memory of Sitara and all 
 thoughts of her. The sting of it all was fear, fear 
 that had she herself been wiser or more capable it 
 would have turned out better that perhaps some 
 one older or more experienced would have saved 
 the girl from the dark fate which she always be 
 lieved had overtaken the poor little tiling. Now that 
 burden was gone, and she began to feel that life was too 
 full of joy, too bright to last that it could hardly be 
 right that she should be singled out for so much hap 
 piness; and she looked from Sitara to Carnton hardly 
 less glad than she, as though she feared they might 
 vanish from her sight while she was looking. 
 
 A few months later the Bishop, once mure in his 
 own native land, stood in a large hall, looking over
 
 HOME AGAIN. 375 
 
 the eager audience that was packed nearly to the 
 ceiling. 
 
 Before lie had left America on his tour of inspec 
 tion he had said little of his purpose, thinking if he 
 found all that unkindly critics had said to be true it 
 would be well to have as little talk about his going 
 as possible ; but some way the news had gone until 
 there was a general interest throughout the Church 
 in their expedition. He had written to no papers, he 
 had had no communications with the Board of Bishops 
 or of Missions ; so there was even among them, though 
 boards arc not expected to have curiosity, a good deal 
 of this vulgar quality, and it was very active as to the 
 discoveries he had made and the conclusions to which 
 he had' come. 
 
 The report of Lillian's death by smallpox had come 
 and insensibly put a sterner aspect on his mission, a 
 graver interest in his proceedings, and when news went 
 around from church to church of the city where Avas 
 his home that the Bishop would answer the hundreds 
 of letters of inquiry he had received in public, at the 
 Monday meeting of preachers, there was no lack of 
 people early on hand, though the meeting had been 
 appointed in the largest audience room in the city. 
 
 Mrs. Clinton could not come. She said to him that 
 later on she would do her own share, and promised 
 many parlor talks and even addresses to small audi 
 ences, but she could not bear it yet ; she was not quite 
 recovered enough from the shock of meeting her sons 
 and of settling in her old home without Lillian. 
 
 The Bishop looked anxiously at her. Sometimes 
 there was a chill at his heart and he had a dread that 
 he had not yet paid the full price of his experiment.
 
 3T6 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 " Xo, dear," the said, answering his look, i; I am 
 well, and I shall be better now that we are settled here, 
 and then the boys are such comforts. They seem to 
 have grown into men since we left them. And do you 
 know what Fred said to me last night ? "We were 
 talking of Lillian and her love for the people of India, 
 and he said, ' Mother, I have always thought of going 
 as a missionary, and more than ever now I mean to do 
 so. I will do what Lillian would have done.' " This 
 coming from Fred, the incorrigible, the one of the 
 three who was fullest of fun and life, the one about 
 whom they had had misgivings, was something of a sur 
 prise to his father, and, perhaps, not altogether a pleas 
 ant surprise. He was prepared to urge young men, 
 other people's sons, to go out to this great work even 
 prepared to urge middle-aged men to go; but when it 
 came to his own sons, in whom he had much pride and 
 hope, he felt it to be a severe test of the new interest 
 in and love for missions that he had acquired. 
 
 lie said impatiently to himself that it seemed 
 that they were never to be done with the consequences 
 of their trip to India; that it would pursue them to 
 the end of their days in one shape or another. And 
 he was right. "Who thinks he can take a year out of 
 his life and give it to one thing, whether a worthy 
 cause or not, and then return, nntrammeled by any 
 thing the year has builded, to his old routine, to his 
 old life, has not yet learned the first principles of liv 
 ing has yet to learn that his life is a sacred thing 
 with which he cannot trine, and that each important 
 break or plan is fraught with consequences from which 
 he cannot escape, try as he may. 
 
 One other consequence, and one which he did not
 
 HOME AGAIN: 377 
 
 regret, was his power to shape public opinion, for he 
 was a just, true man, and he felt he could use this as 
 a lever to move the Church to a true estimate of its 
 responsibility. But when he stood before this great, 
 eager, self-satisfied, comfortable audience a revulsion 
 came over him for a moment, and there is not one of 
 all that number that will ever forget that moment. 
 They were so well dressed the women in fresh spring 
 costumes, with dainty gloves and pleasant smiles, the 
 men in well-fitting, stylish suits all so eager for some 
 thing interesting, something thrilling, and so little 
 comprehending the seriousness of the message he had 
 for them, that he was stirred to anger and almost 
 contempt, and he felt he could turn and rend them. 
 An audience is like a dog it likes you better if you 
 wlii}) it, provided you do not whip it too hard; and 
 the Bishop stopped short of making his castigation 
 too hard, though some began to fear he would not. 
 
 They were all there that he wanted to see and 
 wanted to reach all the people who had been 
 to India as well as those who had not been to 
 India : the tourist architectural, who saw more in a 
 Saracenic tomb than in a mud mission schoolhouse ; 
 the sightseer, who had not time when in India to see 
 missions, but who now would be glad to listen to any 
 thing of that strange, interesting country; there, also, 
 \va> the, traveler whose mental eyes had double convex 
 lenses and could see around corners; the critical 
 personage who considered green pease in February a 
 sin, but who could not wait to sec what he would have 
 paid for them in June; the one who thought the lirst 
 duty of missions was to clothe the people; and there 
 was also the optimist, who saw good in everything, and
 
 3T8 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 breathed hope and encouragement wherever lie 
 went. They had all seen India in the short three 
 months of cool weather, and the missionaries remained 
 in their minds as people to be envied if they them 
 selves only could see the advantages of their surround 
 ings. Of course, they knew that there was another 
 side to the question, nine months in the year, but itM'as 
 indefinite in their minds, and apt to be forgotten. 
 
 Besides these there was the gentleman who had 
 sent the circular letter to the missionaries asking for 
 photographs of their houses, and another person in au 
 thority who would give missionaries the best of every 
 thing going, and then say it was not good enough. 
 There, too, were the hard-working ' ; ladies at home,'' 
 
 / 7 O ' 
 
 devoted, earnest women, going with their hearts in 
 their mouths, fearful of hearing something derogatory 
 to a work as dear to their hearts as though they, 
 too, had given up for its sake home and friends. 
 And there were their daughters, and there were their 
 nieces, coming on to take the elder ladies' places on 
 committees and as presidents and secretaries. 
 
 As the Bishop eyed them a moment before he be 
 gan an ironical smile was on his face, for like a flash, 
 after taking them all in, his mind went back to those 
 exiles in that far-off land which at that moment was 
 being swept by scorching, sand-laden winds, to dark 
 ened houses where men and women were working 
 with the odds of life and health against them: lan 
 guid, homesick women, whose hearts were aching 
 for a sight of the old home-land, and the sound of 
 running streams and familiar voices; palefaced little 
 children, whose brain must ever be dulled by the fact 
 of their birth in that weary land; men fearing each
 
 TIoMK Al.AI.V .".T 1 .' 
 
 \veek and each month might be the last they could 
 have to work for (iod, and still toiling bravely on. 
 And the absurdity of these comfortable, happy, 
 well-dressed people, who were enjoying a free govern 
 ment and a Christian civilization, sitting in judgment 
 on those others, pointed the arrows he let fly. 
 
 Just what he said can never be told, but he put the 
 two phases of life before them, the two pictures as 
 they were presented to his mind, showing them the 
 contrast, and then he turned the vials of his wrath 
 upon them for daring to criticise people who had 
 given up what they would not give up people who 
 were living lives that they would not be willing to live. 
 
 Then he went down and fished up their motives and 
 showed them that the fact of their giving one dollar a 
 year, or subscribing to a missionary journal, or going 
 t:> a missionary prayer meeting when it did not rain, 
 or when thev had no other engagement, did not 
 
 / o o 
 
 entitle them to demand their pound of flesh in the 
 sufferings and cruel experiences of people whose wild 
 est dissipation was a missionary conference once in 
 three months and a garden party once in three years. 
 
 He told them that as they had come to hear criticism 
 they should hear it, not where they expected, but it 
 should be on themselves ; on them because he knew 
 where they stood, knew what was in their minds, for 
 only a little over a year ago he had been where they 
 were, thought as they thought, and felt as they felt; 
 and he knew they would forgive him for saying it 
 because he had himself in mind more than them, and 
 he was lashing himself over their shoulders. 
 
 "I repeat." he said, *" I have had myself in my 
 mind more than you, while speaking I, myself, as I
 
 380 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 was and that I am glad of the opportunity of holding 
 myself up to myself. A little more than a year ago, 
 and yet ages seem to have passed ; or perhaps more 
 truly I might say that I am another man ; for I can 
 never go on in the old selfish round again, bound up 
 in the temporal Church, bound up in my own success, 
 living for the worldly advancement of my own inter 
 ests. Perhaps those of you who have known me best 
 may be kind enough to say that I have not been emi 
 nent in the pursuit of my own interests; perhaps you 
 may see no great difference ; but I know what it means 
 to be emptied of self, since I have seen it among these 
 people I went to criticise. I know what it is, and I 
 know that it is possible in this our land, as well as 
 in that deadly place. Do not think that I found 
 there, and mean to hold up to you, any ' perfect men 
 sublime,' or 'women winged before their time.' 
 They may live somewhere, but perhaps they are no 
 more common in India than other places. Great 
 natures have great faults, so the man who is great 
 enough to put aside all ambition and everything that 
 is commonly believed to make life attractive, and live 
 for people who are unconscious of the sacrifice made 
 in their favor, may have great imperfections. But 
 that has nothing to do with the work one way or an 
 other. I shall now tell you a little of what I have seen. 
 If any of you know how to put the experiences of one 
 year into a half-hour I will sit at his feet and learn." 
 
 But perhaps he knew, though the half-hour length 
 ened to one hour and a half, and still his hearers 
 were not weary. lie plainly told them of the doubt 
 of the wisdom and good faith and courage of those in 
 the field that led to his going; of the difficulty he
 
 HOME AGAIN. 381 
 
 had at first of making his methods coincide with 
 those of the missionaries ; of his surprise at the size 
 and extent of the mission ; of his criticism of methods ; 
 of the absorbing interest of a work where so many 
 doors were open that the only difficulty was to choose 
 which one should he entered ; of the deadly climate, 
 emphasized by constant and never-failing contagion 
 and infection; of the rushing on of the evangelical 
 work, bearing fruit in a night like Jonah's gourd; of 
 the slower and more permanent school and literary 
 and other organic work ; of his objections to many 
 things, and of his gradual swinging round to believ 
 ing that, after all, though not perfect, perhaps the 
 whole plan was as nearly so as could be expected in a 
 mis-ioir a little over thirty years old. Then he told 
 them of their own part in it all ; that because of their 
 prayers and their money and their interest and love for 
 missions this had all come about ; that it was their own 
 work, and, as such, they were responsible for the salva 
 tion of the thousands who were so ready to be taught. 
 ' There is," he said, "a policy or plan in the minds 
 of the far-seeing ones that is widespread and com 
 prehensive. They understand the tremendous respon 
 sibility we have as a Church, and that it is an abso 
 lute command 'to go into all the world.' We as a 
 Church dare not shrink from the responsibility of 
 taking India for Christ. It is ready to be taken as 
 soon as the Church understands her obligation and 
 ceases to regard it as a matter of inclination, or as 
 a side issue, or something that, depends on impulse. 
 She must call on those that have trumpets, at their 
 peril, to give no uncertain sound, for the time has 
 passed when she can say, 'I will or I will not plant a
 
 382 THE BISHOP'S CONVERSION. 
 
 mission in that land.' She has planted and Apollos 
 has watered, and now that the increase is so great that 
 she finds trouble in caring for it she must not falter 
 and quibble about trifles. 
 
 " One superintendent of one district alone reports 
 ten thousand inquirers that is, ten thousand men who 
 have found paganism inadequate for their needs, ten 
 thousand men who have heard of a God, just and 
 pure, who can save them from their sins; and friends, 
 dear friends, what shall we answer in that great and 
 solemn day when they say, ' AVe would have served 
 God and not Rain, only there was no one to lead us 
 or even to point the way \ ' 
 
 " What shall we say when it is said to us that had we 
 not failed in our duty, those suffering, dying thousands 
 would have gone joyfully to meet a loving Father? 
 This, dear friends, is the point, this is the thing we 
 must think of, and not whether missionaries suffer 
 more or less. Their heroism, their sufferings, their 
 exposure to dangers, their isolation, have nothing to do 
 with it. There is this side of the question, and, per 
 haps unfortunately, people wanting money for mis 
 sions have found that it is easier to appeal to your 
 sympathy than to your responsibility as servants of 
 the living God and as coworkers with him. There 
 is this side of the question, and God forbid that their 
 dangers or sufferings be any greater. 
 
 " Let me forever set you at rest on this. Perhaps 
 it was meant that I should be fully qualified to speak 
 on this point;" his voice wavered and friends in 
 the audience feared he had begun something lie would 
 find difficulty in finishing; but he rallied and went 
 on. "And yet I have only known the everyday life
 
 HoMK Ac.AIX. 383 
 
 of the ordinary missionary, and in some respects I 
 was mercifully spared. My wife and myself escaped "' 
 again lie faltered ''and are left to care together for 
 our boys. Others have been less fortunate. Even 
 since I left, a mother, as well as her child, has been 
 stricken and three little children are left without her 
 tender care. Another, comparatively young, forever 
 isolated from her friends, will labor among lepers, 
 because through the exigencies of mission work that 
 dread disease has come to her; and Mackenzie and 
 Miller, the men I worked with and who were the 
 first to greet me, have gone down. First, Mackenzie, 
 doing two men's work without the bodily strength of 
 one, after a few hours' illness, was snatched away by 
 cholera. When I heard that the light had gone from 
 his genial eyes, that the kindly, generous hand was for 
 ever still, a picture was presented to my mind of him 
 as he stood one morning in the church, describing the 
 device on a missionary paper, of an ox standing with 
 a plow at his right, an altar at his left, and of Macken 
 zie's saying, ' This device represents my thought in be 
 ing here in this work. I am ready for either work or 
 sacrifice. If it be the former only I shall be glad; if 
 it be the latter, as I sometimes have felt it will be, I 
 am content and can say, God's will be done.' 
 
 "And Miller, when urged to leave his work and try 
 the effect of the home climate in prolonging his life, 
 said, with the gentle heroism ever characteristic of 
 him, 'Xo, it is better to die in the harness.' 
 
 "And, friends, the bitter thought to me is that 
 while my own short service in India cost me so dear, 
 yet I did not see what the core of the trial of mission 
 life was until it came home to me in the loss of my
 
 384 THE Bisnor's CONVERSION. 
 
 own dear little lamb. Xot till then did I understand 
 the sacrifice they make who live in that terrible land 
 in that sweet land : terrible because it has bereaved 
 me of my friends and my child ; tweet because it has 
 become their last resting-place. 
 
 "And I say to you, do not dare, as I did, to deny the 
 heroism of the lives of those who still live and toil 
 there, nor of those who have died to prove it. 
 
 " O, wild hot winds, sweeping over those brave ones 
 who have died for a cause they loved better than long 
 life, touch lightly, we pray you, the sacred sand that 
 lies above them, and had you a known voice and lan 
 guage I would pray you ever through all the coming 
 years to tell all men, not only in that far, sad land, but 
 throughout the whole world, of the love they had for 
 humanity, of their brave, unfaltering work, of their 
 unwavering trust in God and in his Son, our Lord 
 Jesus Christ. I would pray you tell them how, un- 
 inurmuring, they went down in the strife, how cour 
 ageously they died in the harness, and I would have 
 you beg others to keep their lives before them as 
 beacon lights to lighten their way when it seems 
 darkest, and I would beg you to tell those people for 
 whom they died to remember that a double responsi 
 bility rests on them to emulate their work and their 
 sacrifice, and to believe, as I have come to believe: 
 
 " ' Alike are life and death, 
 When life in deatli survives, 
 And the uninterrupted breath 
 Inspires a thousand lives.' " 
 
 THE END.
 
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