Vansuythen was driving back to her own house,
and, she being freed from the embarrassment of Mrs.
and, she being freed from the embarrassment of Mrs.
Kipling - Poems
" said Kurrell brutally.
"It seems to me that Mrs.
Boulte had
better be fond of her own husband first. "
"Stop! " said Mrs. Vansuythen. "Hear me first. I don't care--I don't want
to know anything about you and Mrs. Boulte; but I want you to know that
I hate you, that I think you are a cur, and that I'll never, never speak
to you again. Oh, I don't dare to say what I think of you, you--man!
_Sais,_ gorah _ko_ jane _do_. "
"I want to speak to Ted," moaned Mrs. Boulte, but the dog-cart rattled
on, and Kurrell was left on the road, shamed, and boiling with wrath
against Mrs. Boulte.
He waited till Mrs.
Vansuythen was driving back to her own house,
and, she being freed from the embarrassment of Mrs. Boulte's presence,
learned for the second time her opinion of himself and his actions.
In the evenings, it was the wont of all Kashima to meet at the platform
on the Narkarra Road, to drink tea, and discuss the trivialities of
the day. Major Vansuythen and his wife found themselves alone at the
gathering-place for almost the first time in their remembrance; and
the cheery Major, in the teeth of his wife's remarkably reasonable
suggestion that the rest of the Station might be sick, insisted upon
driving round to the two bungalows and unearthing the population.
"Sitting in the twilight! " said he, with great indignation to the
Boultes. "That'll never do! Hang it all, we're one family here! You must
come out, and so must Kurrell. I'll make him bring his banjo. " So great
is the power of honest simplicity and a good digestion over guilty
consciences that all Kashima did turn out, even down to the banjo; and
the Major embraced the company in one expansive grin. As he grinned,
Mrs. Vansuythen raised her eyes for an instant and looked at all
Kashima. Her meaning was clear. Major Vansuythen would never know
anything. He was to be the outsider in that happy family whose cage was
the Dosehri hills.
better be fond of her own husband first. "
"Stop! " said Mrs. Vansuythen. "Hear me first. I don't care--I don't want
to know anything about you and Mrs. Boulte; but I want you to know that
I hate you, that I think you are a cur, and that I'll never, never speak
to you again. Oh, I don't dare to say what I think of you, you--man!
_Sais,_ gorah _ko_ jane _do_. "
"I want to speak to Ted," moaned Mrs. Boulte, but the dog-cart rattled
on, and Kurrell was left on the road, shamed, and boiling with wrath
against Mrs. Boulte.
He waited till Mrs.
Vansuythen was driving back to her own house,
and, she being freed from the embarrassment of Mrs. Boulte's presence,
learned for the second time her opinion of himself and his actions.
In the evenings, it was the wont of all Kashima to meet at the platform
on the Narkarra Road, to drink tea, and discuss the trivialities of
the day. Major Vansuythen and his wife found themselves alone at the
gathering-place for almost the first time in their remembrance; and
the cheery Major, in the teeth of his wife's remarkably reasonable
suggestion that the rest of the Station might be sick, insisted upon
driving round to the two bungalows and unearthing the population.
"Sitting in the twilight! " said he, with great indignation to the
Boultes. "That'll never do! Hang it all, we're one family here! You must
come out, and so must Kurrell. I'll make him bring his banjo. " So great
is the power of honest simplicity and a good digestion over guilty
consciences that all Kashima did turn out, even down to the banjo; and
the Major embraced the company in one expansive grin. As he grinned,
Mrs. Vansuythen raised her eyes for an instant and looked at all
Kashima. Her meaning was clear. Major Vansuythen would never know
anything. He was to be the outsider in that happy family whose cage was
the Dosehri hills.
