"But to my wife only I paid heed. 'Can this be?' I murmured, surprised
and deeply moved.
"'She is our very own, our little girl.' And back into my arms she
placed the child, whose tresses I straightway fell to fondling, as her
sweet, trustful eyes looked up into mine, beaming with love as if she
had indeed long before divined in her heart that I was her father and
her natural protector.
"'And, oh, my dear lord,' continued my wife, her eyes brimming with
tears, 'thou knowest now it was to save thee that, in the mysterious
workings of fate, this little child was saved.'"
The Rajput paused in his story, bending his head to hide the emotion
that caused his lips to tremble. "A month later," he went on, softly, "a
little sister was born to Brenda, and only last year a third daughter
came to our home. And all, as I have said, are well beloved."
The speaker's face was now upraised. The soldierly sternness had gone
out of it: it shone only with paternal pride and love as he added:
"To-day Brenda, our first-born, is the light of my home, and a year
hence she will be married to the Rajah of Jodhpur, to make the heart of
that great and noble prince of the Rajputs happy for ever-more."
And so ended the Rajput's tale.
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