“Tiffin ready, sahib,” Rumzan interrupted, coming out onto the veranda.
“That is right, Rumzan. Now, Isobel, let us think of more pleasant subjects.”
“We are to go into the Hunters' this evening, uncle,” Isobel said, as she sat down. “There is going to be a famous juggler there. There is a note for you from Mrs. Hunter on the side table.”
“Very well, my dear; some of these fellows are well worth seeing. Bathurst is coming in to dinner. I saw him as he was starting this morning, just as he was going down to the lines, and he accepted. He said he should be able to get back in time. However, I don't suppose he will mind going round with us. I hope you will come, Doctor, to make up the table. I have asked the two boys to come in.”
“I shall have to become a permanent boarder at your establishment, Major. It is really useless my keeping a cook when I am in here nearly half my time. But I will come. I am off for three days tomorrow. A villager came in this morning to beg me to go out to rid them of a tiger that has established himself in their neighborhood, and that is an invitation I never refuse, if I can possibly manage to make time for it. Fortunately everyone is so healthy here at present that I can be very well spared.”
At dinner the subject of juggling came up again, and the two subalterns expressed their opinion strongly that it was all humbug.
“Dr. Wade believes in it, Mr. Wilson,” Isobel said.
“You don't say so, Doctor; I should have thought you were the last sort of man who would have believed in conjurers.”
“It requires a wise man to believe, Wilson,” the Doctor said; “any fool can scoff; the wise man questions. When you have been here as long as I have, and if you ever get as much sense as I have, which is doubtful, you may be less positive in your ideas, if you can call them ideas.”
“That is one for me,” Wilson said good humoredly, while the others laughed.