Everybody repaired to the ball-room, where, after the last agitated respects had been received, Their Excellencies also appeared, and Helen had the opportunity of taking a lesson in social astronomy, and learning if she chose, how that there is one glory of the sun and another glory of the moon, and how dark and unamiable those regions may be where the sun and the moon shine not. Also how an A.-D.-C. may twinkle as a little star in the firmament, and how a Lieutenant-Governor may be the centre of a brilliant constellation. Helen noticed a subtle difference between Their Excellencies and the rest, and put it down in her admiring innocence to aristocratic lineage or some such vague reason. As a matter of fact they were the only people in the room who did not directly or indirectly suggest a life-long interest in pay and promotion, which is quite enough to make a most vital difference, a most violent contrast, though it must take some years to discern this. The pay of a Viceroy is magnificently absolute, and you can’t promote him. I believe that is arranged by Her Majesty, in order that he may have time to think about other things. This may look a trifle caustic, but the Perth Macintyres have out-stayed five Viceroys in Calcutta, and I have found that number at least to be quite human. Although it is a serious fact that the more one comes in contact with them the less one is struck with any idea of their common fallibility, and the more one is inclined to refer to His Excellency as a very superior mind, and to Her Excellency as “a perfectly charming woman,” without cavil. The last two Viceroys for instance have seemed to me to be much more valuable acquaintances than their predecessors. Can it be that circumstances—chiefly viceregal dinners—have thrown us more together?
Little Mrs. Macdonald, sitting alone upon a sofa in a corner, welcomed the Brownes with effusion.
“Do let me go half shares in your husband for a while,” she said to Helen, making room for them. “Mine has gone off with Mrs. Toote, and I know what that means. Half an hour’s desertion at least.”
“What did he go for?” asked young Browne.
“Because Mrs. Toote is charming.”
“Do you think so?”
“Don’t you? I thought all the men grovelled before Mrs. Toote!”
“I don’t grovel,” said young Browne. “I think she’s a bit of a humbug.”
“But she has good eyes,” Mrs. Macdonald protested.
“Lovely eyes,” Helen chimed.