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Updated: May 7, 2025
Lena was almost as startling an apparition in that room as was Ram Juna's rose in the dusty phial whether a miracle or a clever trick. She looked so untouched by any vulgarity in her surroundings, so fresh and true, so instinct with virgin dignity, that the eyes that met her own were filled with the tribute of surprise; and she exulted in some hidden corner of her soul.
The proprietor of the establishment sat at a small table absorbed in the perusal of a week-old Sunday newspaper. He growled out a "Guess so. Sausages; baked beans; coffee," to Ram Juna's polite inquiry. It neither looked nor smelled inviting, but the Hindu submitted to fate and swallowed a hasty and unpalatable meal.
The Swami turned benevolently toward the other. "You bet! And you can sling language about it!" said the man, and he opened his rat's mouth and laughed without noise. Even Ram Juna's face relaxed into its Buddha smile, calm, inscrutable, as the two gazed on each other. Suddenly the younger drew himself together. "Well, I ain't got no time to spare," he said. "Are they ready?"
Any person, I think, would lend you such money. Mr. Early ah, yes Mr. Early." "Mr. Early is away, isn't he?" Lena was growing confused. She turned the glittering string around and around on her arm, and her heart was big with foolish longing. The necklace seemed the only thing in life worth while. Ram Juna's quick movements and urgent words quite took away her powers of reasoning. "Mr. Early? Yes.
Ram Juna's smile expanded cheerfully. "Let that remain to me. You have but to play your part," he said. Mr. Early thought hard for a moment. "There is need to haste," said the Swami gently. "She is now in the garden where access is easy. Make the note. I will take it to her to sign. Hasten, my friend." Mr. Early drew toward him pen and ink.
Lena glanced discomfited at the retreating back of her husband and said, "I'm sure I didn't notice anything peculiar." A curious gleam came into Ram Juna's sleepy eyes. "Ah, then you, like me, love to examine the soul, your own or another's. You have fellow feeling. So you forgive. May I sit here beside you?" Lena drew aside her petticoats and the Swami shared her little sofa.
Lenox belong to Ram Juna's class, Lena?" "No. Mrs. Appleton asked her, but she wrote that though she was interested in oriental thought, she, personally, found it more satisfactory to get it by reading. Now wasn't that snobby, Dick?" "Is it snobbish to choose what really suits you, instead of following a craze like a sheep woman?" But Lena shut her lips tightly.
"Besides, these small acts are those of women," said the Swami placidly. Dick had caught Madeline's look of astonished comprehension and he turned pale as he saw. Now, with Ram Juna's words, conviction flashed upon him. He remembered Lena's dislike for Madeline, of which he had made light; he remembered the little insignificant woman whom he had met in his wife's boudoir; the fact that he was Mr.
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