's bitter mortification was
evident in her brightening colour and the doubtful, half-appealing
glance of tearful eyes. Then a rebuke, such as might have been
appropriately addressed yesterday to these rude school-girls by their
governess, at once silenced them. As we rose, I asked Eveena, who,
with more courtesy than the rest of us, had finished her portion--

"Is there any justice in these reproaches? I certainly don't like the
carcara to-day, but it does not follow that Eunane is in fault."

The rest, Eunane included, looked their annoyance at this appeal; but
Eveena's temper and kindness were proof against petulance.

"The carcara is in fault," she said; "but I don't think Eunane is. In
learning cookery at school she had her materials supplied to her; this
time the _carve_ has probably given her an unripe or overripe fruit
which has spoiled the whole."

"And do you not know ripe from unripe fruit?" I inquired, turning to
Eunane.

"How should she?" interposed Eveena. "I doubt if she ever saw them
growing."

"How so?" I asked of Eunane.

"It is true," she answered. "I never went beyond the walls of our
playground till I came here; and though there were a few flower-beds
in the inner gardens, there were none but shade trees among the turf
and concrete yards to which we were confined."

"I should have known no better," observed Eveena; "but being brought
up at home, I learned to know all the plants in my father's grounds,
which were more various, I believe, than usual."

"Then," I said, "Eunane has a new life and a multitude of new
pleasures before her. Has this peristyle given you your first sight of
flowers beyond those in the beds of your Nursery? And have you never
seen anything of the world about you?"

"Never," she said. "And Eveena's excuse for me is, I believe,
perfectly true. The carve must have been stupid, but I knew no
better."

"Well," I rejoined, "you must forgive the bird, as we must excuse you
for spoiling our breakfast. I will contrive that you shall know more
of fruits and flowers before long. In the meantime, you will probably
have a different if not a wider view from this roof than from that of
your Nursery."

After all, Eunane's girlhood, typical of the whole life of many
Martial women, had not, I suppose, been more dreary or confined than
that of children in London, Canton, or Calcutta. But this incident,
reminding me how dreary and limited that life was, served to excuse in
my eyes