Also there had been Rama, elder brother, studying at college and loving as ever to the sister transformed into English-wife—­yet sister still.  And there had been fuller revelation of the wonders of India, in their travels northward, even to the Himalayas, abode of Shiva, where Nevil must go to escape the heat and paint more pictures—­always more pictures.  Travelling did not suit her.  She was too innately a creature of shrines and sanctities.  And in India—­home of her spirit—­there seemed no true home for her any more....

* * * * *

Five years later, when Roy was six and Christine two and a half, they had been tempted to repeat their visit, even in the teeth of stern protests from Jane, who regarded the least contact with India as fatal to the children they had been misguided enough to bring into the world.  That second time, things had been easier; and there had been the added delight of Roy’s eager interest; his increasing devotion to the grandfather, whose pride and joy in him rivalled her own.

“In this little man we have the hope of England and India!” he would say, only half in joke.  “With East and West in his soul—­the best of each—­he will cast out the devils of conflict and suspicion and draw the two into closer understanding of one another.”

And, in secret, Lilamani dreamed and prayed that some day ... possibly ... who could tell——?

Yet, still there had persisted the sense of a widening gulf between her and her own people, leaving her doubtful if she ever wanted to see India again.  The spiritual link would be there always; for the rest—­was she not wife of Nevil, mother of Roy?  Ungrateful to grieve if a price must be paid for such supreme good fortune.

For herself she paid it willingly.  But—­must Roy pay also?  And in what fashion?  How could she fail to imbue him with the finest ideals of her race?  But how if the magnet of India proved too strong——?  To hold the scales even was a hard task for human frailty.  And the time of her absolute dominion was so swiftly slipping away from her.  Always, in the back of her mind, loomed the dread shadow of school; and her Eastern soul could not accept it without a struggle.  Only yesterday, Nevil had spoken of it again—­no doubt because Jane made trouble—­saying too long delay would be unfair for Roy.  So it must be not later than September next year.  Just only fifteen months!  Nevil had told her, laughing, it would not banish him to another planet.  But it would plunge him into a world apart—­utterly foreign to her.  Of its dangers, its ideals, its mysterious influences, she knew herself abysmally ignorant.  She must read.  She must try and understand.  She must believe Nevil knew best—­she, who had not enough knowledge and too much love.  But she was upheld by no sustaining faith in this English fashion of school, with its decree of too early separation from the supreme influences of mother and father—­and home....