ajah spoke. Then if His Highness
did not keep his promise, Dr. Roberts would see about it.

So the year went by; the months when the sun blazed straight across
the sky overhead, and everybody slept at noonday--the months when a
gray sheet of rain hung from the clouds for days together, and the
months when all the Maharajah's dominions were full of splendid
yellow lights and pleasant winds--when the teak wood trees dropped
their big dusty leaves, and the nights were sharply cold, and
Rajputana pretended that it was winter. Dr. Roberts and Sunni were
very well then, but Moti shrivelled up and coughed the day through,
and the Maharajah, when he went out to drive, wrapped himself up in
Cashmere shawls, head and ears and all.

The boys learnt as much English as could possibly be expected of
them; Sunni learnt more, because Dr. Roberts made it a point that
he should. Besides, he became a great friend of Dr. Roberts, who
began by begging that Sunni might be allowed to ride with him, then
to drive with him, and finally to spend two or three days at a time
with him. Sunni had more to learn than Moti had. He had a good
many things to forget, too, which gave him almost as much trouble.

The Maharajah found it as difficult as ever to like ee-Wobbis's
medicines, but he considered them excellent for Moti's cough, and
only complained that his son should be given so little of them.
The royal treasury would pay for a whole bottle--why should the
little prince get only a spoonful? Nevertheless Dr. Roberts stood
well in the estimation of the Maharajah, who arranged that a great
many things should be done as the missionary suggested. In one
case the Maharajah had the palace well, the oldest palace well,
cleaned out--a thing that nobody had ever thought of before; and he
was surprised to find what was at the bottom of it. Dr. Roberts
advised putting down a few drains too, and making a road from the
city of the Maharajah to the great highways that led to the
Viceroy's India. The Maharajah laid the drains, and said he would
think about the road. Then Dr. Roberts suggested that a hospital
would be a good thing, and the Maharajah said he would think about
that too.

Sunni was growing fast; he was too tall and thin for nine years
old. Dr. Roberts took anxious care of him, thinking of the unknown
grandfather and grandmother in England, and how he could best tell
them of this boy of theirs, who read Urdu better than English, and
w