“Wait until I am maharanee!” Yasmini said.  “The women have always ruled India.  Women rule the English, though the English hate the thought of it and make believe otherwise.  With the aid of women I will change the face of India,—­the women and the gods!”

But she was careful of her promises, holding out no prospects that would stir premature activity among the ranks she counted on.

“Promise the gods too much,” she said, “and the gods overwhelm you.  They like to serve, which is their business, not to have you squandering on them.  Tell the women they are rulers, and they will start to destroy their empire by making public what is secret!  If you tell the men that the women rule them, what will the men do?”

“Shut them up all the closer, I suppose,” suggested Tess.

“Is that what they ever did?  No.  They will choose for them certain offices they can not fill because of inexperience, and put the noisiest women in them, and make mock of them, and laugh!  Not for a long time yet must India know who rules her!”

“Child, where did you learn all your philosophy?” Tess asked her, one night when they were watching the stars from the bedroom window-seat.

“Oh, men taught me this and that thing, and I have always reversed it and believed the opposite.  Why do men teach?  To make you free, or to bind you to their own wheel?  The English teach that English ways are good for the world.  I answer that the world has been good to England and the English would like to keep it so!  The pundits say we should study the philosophies.  They made me study, hours and hours when I was little.  Why?  To bind me to the wheel of their philosophy, and keep me subject to them!  I say philosophy is good for pundits, as a pond is good for frogs; but shall I be a frog, too, and croak about the beauties of the mud?  The priests say we should obey them, and pray, and make offerings, and keep the religious law.  I say, that religion is good for priests, which is why they cherish it, and add to it, and persuade foolish women to believe it!  As for the gods, if they are anything they are our servants!”

“Your husband is going to have an interesting time,” laughed Tess.

Yasmini’s blue eyes suddenly turned soft and serious.

“Do you think I can not be a wife “’ she asked.  “Do you suppose there is no mother-love in me?  Do you think I do not understand how a man needs cherishing?  Do you think I will preach to my husband, or oppose his plans?  No!  I will do as the gods do when the priests are asleep!  I will let him go his own way, and will go with him, never holding back; and little by little he will learn that I have understanding.  Little by little he will grow into knowledge of the things I know—­and he will be a very great man!”

There were no visits whatever from Utirupa, for the country-side would have been scandalized.  Only, flowers came every day in enormous quantities; and there was a wealth of horses, carriages, jewels and armed men at his bride’s disposal that proved he had not forgotten her existence or her needs.  She had claimed marriage to him by Gandharva rite, and he had tacitly consented, but she was not ready yet to try conclusions with the secret, octopus influence of the priests; and there was another reason.