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CHAPTER XXIII

The steamer in which Ramesh and Kamala had em- barked duly left Goalundo. There were no other first or second class passengers and Ramesh annexed a cabin and deposited their belongings in it.

Kamala took a morning draught of milk and then settled down to admire the ever-shifting river-scenery through the open door of the cabin.

"Do you know where we're going, Kamala?" asked Ramesh.

"Home," said Kamala.

Ramesh, "You don't want to go there, so we're not going."

Kamala. "Was it on my account that you gave up the idea?"

Ramesh. "Yes, it was on your account."

"Why did you do that?" said Kamala pouting. "You needn't have made so much of a chance remark that I dropped. You're very easily offended"

Ramesh smiled. "I wasn't offended at all; I don't want to go home either."

"Where are we going to then?" queried Kamala eagerly.

Ramesh, "We're going to the west-country."

Kamala opened her eyes when she heard this. What a world of meaning that word "West" conjures up to stay-at-home folk! — sacred shrines, invigorating air, new places, new sights, the past splendours of kings and emperors, wonderfully wrought temples, fables of eld, and legends of the heroic age!

"What places are we going to?" asked Kamala in a flutter of delight.

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