"In India," he told her, stopping in his measured course, "female
children are given to the crocodiles."

Her mouth parted at this, her eyes became dilated, and she slipped from
the chair. "That's perfectly awfully appalling," she breathed. "The
little brown girl babies. Oh, father," she cried, as William Ammidon came
into the library, "what do you suppose grandfather says, that in India
female children are...crocodiles." Words failed her.

"What's the sense in frightening the child, father?" William
remonstrated. "I wish you would keep those horrors for the old heathen of
the Marine Society."

Jeremy had a lively sense of guilt; he had been betrayed by Camilla's
confounded airs and pretensions. He ought to be ashamed of himself,
telling the girl such things. "The British Government is putting a stop
to that," he added hastily, "and to suttees--"

"What are they?" she inquired.

"Never mind, Camilla," her father interposed; "go up with your mother
and sisters.

"I suppose it's no good speaking to you," William continued; "but my
family is not a crew and this house isn't the _Two Capes_. You might make
some effort to realize you're on land."

"I know I'm on land, William; tell that any day from a sight of you. You
can afford to listen a little now and then about the sea. That's where
all you have came from; it's the same with near everybody in Salem.