t, Miss Bright is so good that, like the Pharisee of
old, she thanks God she is not as other women are!"

"You do her injustice. I know no one more charitable," said Mrs. Meek
warmly.

"I apologise," said Mrs. Dalton with a sudden revulsion of feeling.
"Believe me, I have reason to know that, for she tried to do me a good
turn, I don't know why,--considering the circumstances,--but I must find
an opportunity for thanking her." Yet Mrs. Meek saw only discontent and
unhappiness in her companion's face, and wondered.

Meanwhile, Honor passed beyond their range of vision and was making
household purchases for her mother: _jharunse_[20] made at Cawnpur, lace
at the Mission, a pair of garden shears, and trifles that appealed to
her as useful for the Hazrigunge bazaar.

[Footnote 20: Dish-cloths.]

While selecting a rush basket for flowers at a stall for the sale of
wicker-work made by low-caste Hindus at Panipara, she overheard a
conversation in the vernacular between one of the workers and an
outsider of evil appearance. Their words were often unintelligible being
drowned in the noises prevailing around her, but the drift of their talk
held Honor rigid and attentive, with every faculty alert, and fear at
her heart. Feeling secure in the midst of so much distraction, they
spoke unreservedly.

"These reeds of Panipara are unsurpassed," said the outsider viciously.
"Where will you get others for your trade, now that the _jhil_, is being
drained? Look you, it is the work of Dalton Sahib, this butcher of human
flesh!"

"Alack! my trade is ruined. I shall have to move on and seek a living
elsewhere, or die of want!"

"Thus you are turned from the village of your forefathers where you have
worked,--and they before you,--at basket-plaiting and mat-making. What
does he deserve for his wanton act?"

"May he die, and jackals eat his flesh!"

"That is a just saying, my brother! Even I have suffered--" for a few
minutes Honor heard nothing but the loud laughter of some Bengali
students who were passing. "My only child it was," the voice proceeded
agitatedly; "he was rendered unconscious, and while lying helpless on a
table at the hospital, and I his father crying in the yard below, this
ruthless one cut open his bowels and removed a part of the intestines!
Can anyone live without that which is necessary to life. In agony my son
died, calling aloud to his mother and father,--and we, powerless to save
him! _Ai Khodar!_ Listeni