For answer she placed her hand on the lieutenant’s arm, and he took her round the grounds.
“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” he said. “Seen all the grandees?”
“I have only seen Helen and Mr Perowne,” she replied.
“Looks well to-night, ’pon my word. I saw Murad’s eyes light up like a firefly as he shook hands with her, but he pulled himself to directly. Perowne does these things well. Old boy must be pretty rich.”
“They say he is, very,” replied Grey. “Here is the Rajah coming up. Mr Chumbley, I always feel afraid of that man.”
“Hold tight by my arm, then, and I’ll punch his head if he looks at you. He shan’t run away with you while I am by.”
Grey laughed merrily, and in the midst of her mirth the Rajah came up.
“You English people always seem so bright and merry,” he said, smiling, and looking very handsome as he stood by the side of a lantern. “We people always feel dull and sad.”
“Have a glass of champagne then, Rajah. It is a fine cure for sadness. I say,” continued Chumbley, “you’ll have to imitate this, and give an evening fête.”
“Yes,” he said, eagerly; “I was thinking so. But I would have more lanterns in the trees, and more flowers.”