If Tyope was shrewd and cunning, and if he made of his own woman his eye, ear, and mouth, as has been said in one of the previous chapters, Hannay was not a fool.  She did not of course understand anything of his plans and schemes, and he never thought it necessary to inform her; but she knew how to manage him whenever anything aroused her curiosity.  She contrived to gratify this sometimes in a way that her husband failed to detect,—­by drawing from his talk inferences that were exceedingly correct and which he had no thought of furnishing.  For Tyope knew his wife’s weakness; he knew that if her ears and her eyes were sharp, her tongue was correspondingly swift; and he tried to be as guarded as possible toward her on any topic which he did not wish to become public property.  Nevertheless Hannay succeeded in outwitting her husband more than once, and in guessing with considerable accuracy things that he did not regard as belonging within the field of her knowledge.  So, for instance, while he had carefully avoided stating to her the object of the council, she nevertheless had put together in her own mind a number of minor points and hints to which he attached no importance, and had thus framed for herself a probable purpose of the meeting that fell not much short of the real truth.

The main desire that occupied Hannay’s mind for the present was the union between Okoya and her daughter Mitsha.  Okoya had, unknown to himself, no stronger ally than the mother of the girl.  The motive that actuated her in this matter was simply the apparent physical fitness of the match and the momentary advantages that she, considering her own age and the loose nature of Indian marriages, might eventually derive from the daily presence of Okoya at her home.  In other words, she desired the good-looking youth as much for herself as for her child, and saw nothing wrong in this.  From the day when Okoya for the first time trod the roof of her dwelling in order to protect Mitsha, she had set her cap for him.  But she knew that there was no love on the part of Tyope for the relatives of Okoya, paternal or maternal, and she was too much afraid of him to venture open consent to a union that might be against his wishes.  In her mind Tyope was the only stumbling-block in the path of the two young people; that is, in the way of her own desires.

She had consequently set to work with a great deal of tact and prudence in approaching Tyope about the matter.  After a number of preparatory skirmishes, she at last ventured to tell him of it.  To her astonishment he took it quite composedly, saying neither yes nor no, and displaying no feeling at all.  He saw not the least objection to having Okoya visit her house as often as he might please; in fact, he treated the matter with great indifference.  This was a decided relief to her, and she anxiously waited for Okoya’s first visit to impress him most favourably regarding not merely herself but her husband.