"Don't be horrid, Tom. I have, and so have you, the greatest respect for Hirzat Sing. He is one of Nature's noblemen."
"And I have to find him some job—such as weeding or sweeping—at five rupees a month. Well, I'll do what I can."
"By the way, Miss Verona," turning to his silent, sad-faced guest, "I saw in The Times the death of a Chandos of Charne Hall. I believe he's related to your father? I am not sure—but I think he is his cousin."
"Oh my, yes; it must be father's cousin," burst in Pussy. "He never speaks of him, but mother does; she says he was such—a—thief and a budmash—he—ought to have been put in jail!"
"Pussy!" remonstrated her sister.
"If it is Sidney, it will make a great difference to your father," continued Mr. Lepell, addressing Verona.
"I don't believe anything would make any difference to him," then she dropped her voice as she added the word "now."
"Dear me! How dull we have all been!" exclaimed Mrs. Lepell. "I really think we shall have to introduce the Chinese system of having little slips of paper inscribed with jokes, which they solemnly hand to each other during intervals in the conversation."
"I wish I could remember a few," said Salwey; "but they run in at one ear and out at the other! I wonder if this would do? A certain schoolboy was asked, 'Who was Titus?' 'Titus,' he promptly replied, 'was a gentleman who wrote a letter in the Bible. Then, as a Roman general, he sacked Jerusalem. Subsequently, having adopted the name of Oates, he headed an abominable insurrection.' How is that, Aunt Liz?"
"Much too historical and stupid," she said as she rose. "I suppose you wished to drive us off, and therefore we depart. Good-bye!"