'Certainly, of course,' said Shafto.
'Major Garallan is a client of the firm.'
'What! the old woman Drumshoddy's nephew?'
'The same.'
'All right; let us have him.'
So the Major came in due course. He was the beau-ideal of a cavalry man—tall, handsome, well set up and put together, dark-complexioned and regular-featured, with his ears and neck scorched by the Indian sun to a hue in which red and bistre were blended; but an awkward accession he proved to Shafto eventually.
The dinner, with its soup, fish, and many entrées, was all that could be desired, from the curaçoa to the coffee, and put Shafto's two guests in excellent humour with themselves and the world generally; the cloth was drawn, the wine and dessert put on, and, seated at the head of the table, Shafto almost forgot his troubles, as he took bumper after bumper of sparkling Pommery-greno, while from the tall windows could be seen the space of the stately square, with its tall central column crowned by the colossal statue, of Melville, and all its many-pillared and palatial banks and public offices whitened by the silver light of the summer moon.
The Zulu War was, of course, spoken of, the mishaps at Isandhlwana and Intombe discussed, though the subject was shirked by Shafto, who cared nothing about it, save in so far as the danger that then menaced Florian; but little Kippilaw, who was a full-blown captain in the Queen's Edinburgh Rifle Brigade, talked a vast amount of 'shop' to the amused Major Garallan, whom he ventured to instruct in the 'new method of attack,' and thereby drew out the latter insensibly to talk a little of his Indian experiences, for he had served in the expedition to Perak, against the Malays, and the Jowaki expedition on the frontier of Peshawur, and been wounded at the storming of Jummoo; affairs that, though small in themselves, went rather beyond a sham fight in the Queen's Park, including the storming of St. Anthony's Chapel and forming a rallying square in the Hunter's Bog.
And now the conversation began to flag, though Shafto had circulated the wine freely, and he thought the time had come to propose 'a little mild play.' One circumstance surprised him—that though they were supposed to be connected by marriage, the somewhat haughty Major never made the slightest reference to the subject.
'A quiet rubber of whist, with a dummy,' suggested Kippilaw.