special longing; and there
was a dear young girl, in a soft blue seeley (Tamil dress), her ears
clustered about with pearls, and her neck laden with five or six
necklets worth some hundreds of rupees. She was going to be married; and
beyond the usual gentle courtesy of a well-brought-up Tamil girl,
showed no interest in us. Almost all the women had questions to ask. On
the track it is different; they have already satisfied their lawful
curiosity concerning Missie Ammals; but here they have not had the
chance; and if we ignore their desires, we defeat our own. They may seem
to listen, but they are really occupied in wondering about us. We got
them to listen finally, and left them, cheered by warm invitations to
return.

Then we thought of the poor proud Brahmans, and hoping that, perhaps, in
the interval they had inquired about us, and would let us in, we went to
them again. We could see the fair faces and slender forms of the younger
Brahman women standing in the shadow behind their verandah pillars, and
some of them looked as if they would like to let us in, but the street
had not relented; and a Brahman street is like a house--you cannot go in
unless you are allowed.

There was one kind-faced, courtly old man, and he seemed to sympathise
with us, for he left the mocking group of men, and came to see us off;
and then, as if to divert us from the greater topic, he pointed to one
of the mountains, a spur of the God King's mountain, famous in all South
India, and volunteered to tell me its story. We were glad to make
friends with him even over so small a thing as a mountain; but he would
speak of nothing else, and when he left us we felt baffled and sorry,
and tired with the tiredness that comes when you cannot give your
message; and we sat down on a rock outside the Brahman street, to wait
till the Band Sisters gathered for the homeward walk.

It was sunset time, and the sky was overcast by dull grey clouds; but
just over the Brahman quarter there was a rift in the grey, and the
pent-up gold shone through. It seemed as if God were pouring out His
beauty upon those Brahmans, trying to make them look up, and they would
not. One by one we saw them go to their different courtyards, where the
golden glow could not reach them, and we heard them shut their great
heavy doors, as if they were shutting Him out.

In there it was dark; out here, out with God, it was light. The
after-glow, that loveliest glow of the East, was sh