"Just the last thing I'll ever do!" and he banged the table with his fist, and made the glasses dance.
"But why not? she is lonely, she has no near relations, heaps of time on her hands, and seems fond of young people."
"She would not be fond of Pedro and Paul, she'd lock them up for fear they should be seen,—or send them to the Zoo!"
"Well, just think it over! it's what I'd do, if I were in your shoes. You need not let anyone else into the secret; say they were children of an old friend—who—er—had married unfortunately. You might even make her a Begum!"
"No thank you, my boy, your measures are too drastic. To-morrow you leave the Dâk Bungalow, and come and stop with me, seeing that you have drawn this cover blank. Anyway, stay and shoot a week or two; I may be able to give you a leg up, my butler Francis knows the Presidency to the bone."
"You are very kind, Rochfort,—but I ought to be moving on."
"Yes, you ought," he assented, rising as he spoke, "come along into the verandah, the children are waiting for us to play games."
CHAPTER XVII
Major Rochfort had not much difficulty in persuading his friend to abandon the Dâk Bungalow, and take up his quarters with him; and Geoffrey parted without regret from the mildewed, rat-hunted chamber, and toothless old matey—whose dishes were invariably seasoned with a "dirty cloth" taste! As he beheld his belongings installed in a large comfortably furnished room, containing a cot draped with snowy mosquito curtains, a writing-table, and an almirah, he asked himself the question, "Am I too becoming a sponge?"