“I hear what you are saying,” exclaimed the Inche Maida; “but I will excel you; for I will give another party, greater, and brighter, and more beautiful still. Miss Stuart will help me with good advice, and mine shall be more English than yours. We will not be beaten.”
“No, no!” said the Rajah, laughing; “do not help her, Miss Stuart; help me, and I will be so grateful. It is so easy to say I will give a grand party, but it is hard to make it so that it will please these English gentlemen and ladies.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, Prince,” said the Inche Maida.
“Of course—yes,” he replied. “That is where I make things wrong. You English place the ladies first, and I always make mistakes like that.”
“You will soon acquire our habits,” said Grey, who could not help her eyes wandering in search of Hilton.
“Thank you,” said the Prince. “I shall try; but as I say, it is so hard to make a feast quite right. If I want to make a banquet for my people with flowers, and fireworks, and elephants, and gongs, and tom-toms, it is all so easy; but an English party, to satisfy all you—ah! it is too much.”
Meanwhile, heart-sick and disgusted with everything and everybody present, Hilton wandered away to the pagoda, where Mr Stuart had taken up hi quarters directly after supper.
“Hullo! young fellow,” said the old merchant, gruffly, “come to your senses again?”
“Senses? Haven’t been out of them that I know of,” retorted Hilton.
“Well, ye’ve been running wild after Perowne’s lassie.”