“Oh, I think, since you put it in that way, that I should find it easier to love the young lady!”
“I thought you fought shy of young ladies; and you must have cat’s eyes if you can see one at this distance.”
“I have the use of my ears, and I have had nothing to do, but concentrate my attention on what is evidently to be the only meal of the evening. I heard the cook telling the khitmatghar to lay a place for the ‘Miss Sahib.’”
“What a thing it is to be observant!” cried Captain Waring. “And here they are. By George! she is a heavy weight!” alluding to Mrs. Brande, who was now let down with a dump, that spoke a whole volume of relief.
The lady ascended the verandah with slow and solid steps, cast a swift glance at the famishing pair, and went into her own well-warmed room, where a table neatly laid, and adorned with cherry-blossoms, awaited her.
“Lay two more places,” were her first commands to the salaaming Khitmatghar; then to her niece, “I am going to ask those two men to dinner.”
“But you don’t know them, Aunt Sara!” she expostulated rather timidly.
“I know of them, and that is quite enough at a dâk bungalow. We are not so stiff as you are in England; we are all, as it were, in the same set out here; and I am sure Captain Waring will be thankful to join us, unless he happens to be a born idiot. In this bungalow there is nothing to be had but candles and jam. I know it of old. People who pass up, are like a swarm of locusts, and leave nothing behind them, but empty tins and bottles. Now I can give him club mutton and champagne.”
Having carefully arranged her dress, put on her two best diamond rings, and a blue cap (N.B.—Blue had always been her colour), Mrs. Brande sailed out into the verandah, and thus accosted the strangers—
“I shall be very happy if you two gentlemen will dine with me in my rooms.”