Then Mary understood Martha s troubled look when she had asked
questions about the crying.
Martha knew about you all the time? she said.
Yes; she often attends to me. The nurse likes to get away from me and
then Martha comes.
I have been here a long time, said Mary. Shall I go away now? Your
eyes look sleepy.
I wish I could go to sleep before you leave me, he said rather shyly.
Shut your eyes, said Mary, drawing her footstool closer, and I will
do what my Ayah used to do in India. I will pat your hand and stroke it
and sing something quite low.
I should like that perhaps, he said drowsily.
Somehow she was sorry for him and did not want him to lie awake, so she
leaned against the bed and began to stroke and pat his hand and sing a
very low little chanting song in Hindustani.
That is nice, he said more drowsily still, and she went on chanting
and stroking, but when she looked at him again his black lashes were
lying close against his cheeks, for his eyes were shut and he was fast
asleep. So she got up softly, took her candle and crept away without
making a sound.
CHAPTER XIV.
A YOUNG RAJAH
The moor was hidden in mist when the morning came, and the rain had not
stopped pouring down. There could be no going out of doors. Martha was
so busy that Mary had no opportunity of talking to her, but in the
afternoon she asked her to come and sit with her in the nursery. She
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