"Oh, yes, I understand—a novelist."
"Not exactly—though she achieves distinction by the number and variety of her stories. Her late husband had a fine appointment, and she has a fine pension; her daughters are satisfactorily settled out here, she infests the Hills, and knows everything that goes on—on Hills or plains; can do a kind action, or the reverse; and is always prepared to get you a servant, or give you a character!"
"A useful acquaintance!" observed Mallender, glancing at the lady; "and rich—judging by her diamonds."
"Yes, she has heaps of money, and eggs in many baskets; shares in shops, and mines, and coffee estates. I see that she has noticed you and soon your history, prospects, and reputation, will be at her mercy."
"I don't mind, I have no prospects now," he replied; "and as for my reputation, reputations are cheap! I can easily get another."
"Easier said than done—mud always sticks! To go on with my little serial, the handsome lady in pink is the Hon. Mrs. Cliffe. She is ruffled, because she has just discovered that rank has no precedence in India. I go in before her, as a consort of a Heaven-born; and she is told off, according to Cocker, as the wife of a Captain in the Line. How I should love to read her letters by the next mail! The matron with the beautiful white hair, and emeralds, is Mrs. Damer, who has come out to see her two sons; one is in the Army—the other is in Tea. The stern man on her right, is said to be our future great General—mark his cold, relentless eye!"
"Well, he looks a hard-bitten chap, and every inch a soldier; and the pretty, fair girl lower down—why is she sent in with that old buffer whose collar is choking him? That cannot be according to Cocker!"
"No, but it happens to be a very special case," rejoined Mrs. Brander with impressive gravity; "Miss Miller has been paired off with Colonel Harris, because she is going to be married to him."
"Marry him!" repeated Mallender, setting down his untasted glass. "Why, he might be her grandfather!"
"No doubt," agreed Mrs. Brander, "but there are reasons for the match; if you will bend forward, and look along this side, you may notice a sharp powdered nose, poked well to the front—it belongs to the chief reason—the girl's mother, I will show her to you later."