d
she could not understand it at all. The little child was chattering
away, lifting up a bright little face as she talked. When she saw me she
ran straight up to me, and climbed on my knee without the least fear,
and told me all about herself at once. I took her to the Iyer, and he
sent for the Pastor, who sent a messenger to the Village of the Lake, to
say the child was here, and to inquire into the truth of her story.

"My name is Pearl-eyes," the child began, "and I want to stay here
always. I have come to stay." And she told us how her mother had sold
her when she was a baby to the Servants of the gods. She was not happy
with them. They did not love her. Nobody loved her. She wanted to live
with us.

But why had she run away now? She hardly seemed to know, and looked
puzzled at our questions. The only thing she was sure about was that she
had "run and come," and that she "wanted to stay." Then the Ammal came
in, and she went through exactly the same story with her.

We felt, if this proved to be fact, that we could surely keep her; the
Government would be on our side in such a matter. Only the great
difficulty might be to prove it.

Meanwhile we gave her a doll, and her little heart was at rest. She did
not seem to have a fear. With the prettiest, most confiding little
gesture, she sat down at our feet and began to play with it.

We watched her wonderingly. She was perfectly at home with us. She ran
out, gathered leaves and flowers, and came back with them. These were
carefully arranged in rows on the floor. Then another expedition, and in
again with three pebbles for hearthstones, a shell for a cooking pot,
bits of straw for firewood, a stick for a match, and sand for rice.

She went through all the minutiae of Tamil cookery with the greatest
seriousness. Then we, together with her doll, were invited to partake.
The little thing walked straight into our hearts, and we felt we would
risk anything to keep her.

Our messenger returned. The story was true. The women from whose house
she had come were certainly temple women. But would they admit it to us,
and, above all, would they admit they had obtained her illegally?--a
fact easy to deny. Almost upon this they came; and to the Iyer's
question, "Who are you?" one said, "We are Servants of the gods!" I
heard an instructive aside, "Why did you tell them?" "Oh, never mind,"
said the one who had answered, "they don't understand!" But we had
understood, and we were