rd in her own nature and seemed to open a
wide area for thought. She put it aside now and chatted gayly with the
Hunters and those who came up to the carriage, but it came back to her
as she sat in her room before going to bed.

Up till now she had not heard a remark since she had been in Cawnpore
that might not have been spoken had the cantonments there been the whole
of India, except that persons at other stations were mentioned. The
vast, seething native population were no more alluded to than if they
were a world apart. Bathurst's words had for the first time brought home
to her the reality of their existence, and that around this little group
of English men and women lay a vast population, with their joys and
sorrows and sufferings.

At breakfast she surprised Mrs. Hunter by asking a variety of questions
as to native customs. "I suppose you have often been in the Zenanas,
Mrs. Hunter?"

"Not often, my dear. I have been in some of them, and very depressing it
is to see how childish and ignorant the women are."

"Can nothing be done for them, Mrs. Hunter?"

"Very little. In time I suppose there will be schools for girls, but you
see they marry so young that it is difficult to get at them."

"How young do they marry?"

"They are betrothed, although it has all the force of a marriage, as
infants, and a girl can be a widow at two or three years old; and so,
poor little thing, she remains to the end of her life in a position
little better than that of a servant in her husband's family. Really
they are married at ten or eleven."

Isobel looked amazed at this her first insight into native life. Mrs.
Hunter smiled.

"I heard Mr. Bathurst saying something to you about it yesterday, Miss
Hannay. He is an enthusiast; we like him very much, but we don't see
much of him."

"You must beware of him, Miss Hannay," Mr. Hunter said, "or he will
inoculate you with some of his fads. I do not say that he is not right,
but he sees the immensity of the need for change, but does not see fully
the immensity of the difficulty in bringing it about."

"There is no fear of his inoculating me; that is to say of setting me to
work, for what could one woman do?"

"Nothing, my dear," her uncle said; "if all the white women in India
threw themselves into the work, they could do little. The natives are
too jealous of what they consider intruders; the Parsees are about the
only progressive people. While ladies are welcome enough when th