would allow you to do that?” “I doubt if you would be able to prevent me from dominating our conversation,” Lord Kenington replied.
He knew that it would stimulate her once again into fighting him, but instead she laughed.
“It’s wonderful,” she sighed, “to be here alone with you and to be able to talk as we have just been. I missed it so much after Naples. And I used to go to bed and try to pretend I was you and answer my arguments with what you would have said.”
“I hope I was successful,” Lord Kenington grinned.
“Only occasionally. Then, of course, I had to try even harder to defeat you the next time.”
“As I will try tomorrow. I still think it’s amazing that, looking like you do and being so young, you can talk to me as if you were the Viceroy, the Pope and a few distinguished philosophers all rolled into one!”
Aisha gave a little cry.
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me! Thank you, thank you! I feel so happy being with you that for the moment I have stopped worrying about Papa.”
“Now I am trying to read your father’s thoughts that he will come back to you safely.” “I want to believe you and therefore I will believe you,” Aisha answered.
She rose from the comfortable sofa and walked towards her bedroom.
“Goodnight, my Lord, and thank you for being such a wonderful man that I am almost prepared to admit you are always right!”
She closed her door as Lord Kenington did not answer.
He was laughing as he went into his bedroom that was opposite hers.
CHAPTER FIVE
Aisha found the whole of the next day entrancing.
There was so much varied and interesting scenery to watch from the windows of their drawing room on the train.
Above all she had the whole day in which to talk to Lord Kenington, to have his undivided attention and to discuss so many of the subjects she had in mind.
When she went to bed that night, she thanked God for giving her such a happy day, so happy that she had almost forgotten to worry about her father.
Aisha had again slept peacefully in what she found was a surprisingly comfortable bed. Lord Kenington was obviously in a cheerful mood and the sun was shining and everything seemed wonderful.
A carriage was waiting for them at the station to drive them to Viceregal Lodge.
“I know nothing at all about the Viceroy’s house in Simla,” Aisha said as the horses drove off. “Tell me about it, my Lord.”
“Apparently, Lord Lytton had a bad impression of it when he first saw it. He described it to his friends as ‘a mere bivouac’. He found ‘Peterhof’, as it is nicknamed, uncomfortably small and he complained he could never be alone there.”
“What did he mean by that?” Aisha asked.
“He said the sentries outside his window were too close for one thing and that ‘three unpronounceable beings in white and red nightgowns’ rushed after him if he walked about indoors. And, if he set foot in the garden, he was ‘stealthily followed by a tail of fifteen persons’.”
“I don’t believe it,” Aisha laughed.
“Nor do I, but it made a good story.” “But I have always heard that the people of Simla are the most amusing and, of course, there are innumerable visitors from England.”
“Unfortunately, the Viceroy really prefers Paris to anywhere else and in fact he said to a friend of mine only a few weeks ago, ‘I do so miss the pleasant scamps and scampesses of glorious France’!”
“Now you are telling me things I have not thought of before,” Aisha said. “I heard that everyone in England and India thinks that he is one of the best Viceroys we have ever sent.”
“You will find him charming, as I do. At the same time I would rather agree that he would be more at home in France than he is in India.”
It did not take them long to drive from the station to Peterhof.
Aisha thought it smaller and not as attractive as she had imagined it would be, but the garden was lovely with a mass of flowers, which
He knew that it would stimulate her once again into fighting him, but instead she laughed.
“It’s wonderful,” she sighed, “to be here alone with you and to be able to talk as we have just been. I missed it so much after Naples. And I used to go to bed and try to pretend I was you and answer my arguments with what you would have said.”
“I hope I was successful,” Lord Kenington grinned.
“Only occasionally. Then, of course, I had to try even harder to defeat you the next time.”
“As I will try tomorrow. I still think it’s amazing that, looking like you do and being so young, you can talk to me as if you were the Viceroy, the Pope and a few distinguished philosophers all rolled into one!”
Aisha gave a little cry.
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me! Thank you, thank you! I feel so happy being with you that for the moment I have stopped worrying about Papa.”
“Now I am trying to read your father’s thoughts that he will come back to you safely.” “I want to believe you and therefore I will believe you,” Aisha answered.
She rose from the comfortable sofa and walked towards her bedroom.
“Goodnight, my Lord, and thank you for being such a wonderful man that I am almost prepared to admit you are always right!”
She closed her door as Lord Kenington did not answer.
He was laughing as he went into his bedroom that was opposite hers.
CHAPTER FIVE
Aisha found the whole of the next day entrancing.
There was so much varied and interesting scenery to watch from the windows of their drawing room on the train.
Above all she had the whole day in which to talk to Lord Kenington, to have his undivided attention and to discuss so many of the subjects she had in mind.
When she went to bed that night, she thanked God for giving her such a happy day, so happy that she had almost forgotten to worry about her father.
Aisha had again slept peacefully in what she found was a surprisingly comfortable bed. Lord Kenington was obviously in a cheerful mood and the sun was shining and everything seemed wonderful.
A carriage was waiting for them at the station to drive them to Viceregal Lodge.
“I know nothing at all about the Viceroy’s house in Simla,” Aisha said as the horses drove off. “Tell me about it, my Lord.”
“Apparently, Lord Lytton had a bad impression of it when he first saw it. He described it to his friends as ‘a mere bivouac’. He found ‘Peterhof’, as it is nicknamed, uncomfortably small and he complained he could never be alone there.”
“What did he mean by that?” Aisha asked.
“He said the sentries outside his window were too close for one thing and that ‘three unpronounceable beings in white and red nightgowns’ rushed after him if he walked about indoors. And, if he set foot in the garden, he was ‘stealthily followed by a tail of fifteen persons’.”
“I don’t believe it,” Aisha laughed.
“Nor do I, but it made a good story.” “But I have always heard that the people of Simla are the most amusing and, of course, there are innumerable visitors from England.”
“Unfortunately, the Viceroy really prefers Paris to anywhere else and in fact he said to a friend of mine only a few weeks ago, ‘I do so miss the pleasant scamps and scampesses of glorious France’!”
“Now you are telling me things I have not thought of before,” Aisha said. “I heard that everyone in England and India thinks that he is one of the best Viceroys we have ever sent.”
“You will find him charming, as I do. At the same time I would rather agree that he would be more at home in France than he is in India.”
It did not take them long to drive from the station to Peterhof.
Aisha thought it smaller and not as attractive as she had imagined it would be, but the garden was lovely with a mass of flowers, which
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