Indeed the whole atmosphere of the girl was simplicity and beauty.
"No wonder they call her the Rose Queen," Barlow was communing with
himself. For the oval face with its olive skin, as fair as a Kashmiri
girl's, was certainly beautiful. The black hair was smoothed back from
a wide low forehead, after the habit of the Mahratti women; the prim
simplicity of this seeming to add to the girlish effect. A small
white-and-gold turban, even with its jauntiness, seemed just the very
thing to check the austere simplicity. The girl's eyes, like Ajeet's,
were the eyes of some one unafraid, of one born to a caste that felt
equality. When they turned to those who sat in the brake they were
calmly meditative; they were the eyes of a child, modest; but with the
unabashed confidence of youth.
Elizabeth, perhaps unreasonably, for the three of them sat so close
together in the brake, fancied that the Gulab's gaze constantly picked
out the handsome Captain Barlow.
An imp touched Nana Sahib, and he said: "I'd swear there was Rajput
blood in that girl. If I knew of some princess having been stolen I'd
say she stood yonder.
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