1 BY THE SAME A [/THOU. A SOCIAL DEPARTURE: Ilotv Ortho- docia and J Wmt Hound the World by Ourselves. With 111 Illustrations by F. II. Townsenu 12mo. Paper, 75 cents; doth, $1.7o. noo,'«^ "^^'i^ ""^^^ ""'^ praised on both sides of the Atlantic and Pacific, with .C9r(^8 d illustrations which fit the text exacts ,h«"^^ l^*° ^^ doubted whether another book can be found so tir.!! ^?^ sparkling wit, Irrenistibly contagious fun. keen observa descViml™^' Th'^ appreciation of natural beauty ''and v"id AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON. With 80 Illustrations by F. II. Townsexd. 12mo. Paper, 75 cents; cloth, $1.50. -.^.S/ FoJf oClw"''''^ '"''^ entertaining books of the season." tnrr?'!!'' raciness and breeziness which made 'A Social Denar- Sd oVbook of f;:ivl'rv'"'' ^'-''^^""' '^^ best-read and S. laiKea-or Doou of travel for many a year, permeate the new "So sprightly a book as this, on life in London as ohservprf &t:"'"'""' '"' '''''' '^'"^'^ ^^^" writ!^"'- AaSS D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, New York. I I ^■ 9 I y. H CO o y O C < H I ! THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAHIB r < H o H X H H BY SARA JEANNETTE DUNCAN AUTHOR OF A SOCIAL DEPARTURE, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON, ETC. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. H. TOWNSEND NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1893 xi ^--.- 55(127 COPTRIQHT, 1893, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. Electrotyped and Printed AT THE APPLETON PrESS, U. S. A. i 1 f LIST OF ILLUSTRATIOXS. They came in little straggling strings and bands Cups of tea Young Browne's tennis Her new field of labour Aunt Plovtree . Initial letter Initial letter . Uncertain whether she ought to bow " It's just the place for centipedes " Initial letter "A very worthy and hardworking sort "What is this?" said Mrs. Browne Chua An accident disclosed them Mr. Sayter Mr. Sayter gave Mrs. Browne his arm Mrs. Lovitt .... Initial letter .... The ladies went most securely Initial letter .... Mr. Jonas Batcham, M. P. . Three others much like himself A sudden indisposition . Initial letter . ■ • • • Their hats ' • • • Initial letter . Front PAOE ispiece 3 lo 19 24 40 57 63 08 79 87 94 96 130 138 151 150 159 168 175 187 191 193 210 214 IV LIST OF ILLUSTRATJO.\S, f "Halma". Miss Josephine Lovitt . Initial . . . ^ Mr. Week slept on a bench He stood upon one leg Initial • • • Initial . . . _ He nskod nothing of the Brownes The snows .... "Liver complications— we nil eoine to i t" She has fallen into a way of crossing her knees in a low cluiir I'AOE OOO OOft . 234 . 243 . 252 . 2G0 . 278 . 282 . 291 . 297 . 309 t>AO£ I THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A AIEMSAHIB. CHxVPTER I. TTELEN FRAXOES BROWNE was formorly a Miss Peachey. Xot one of the Dcvoiisliirc l^caclieys— tliey are quite a different family. This Miss Peachey's fatlier was a clergyman, who folded his flock and his family in the town of Canbury in Wilts, very nice jieople and well thought of, with nice, well-thought-of connections, but nothing particularly aristo- cratic amongst them, like the Devonshire Peacheys, and no beer. The former Miss Peachey is now a memsahib of Lower Ben- gal. As you probably know, one is not born a memsahib ; the dignity is arrived at later, through circumstances, processes, and sometimes through foresight on the part of one's mamma. It is not so easy to obtain as it used to be. Formerly it was a mere question of facilities for transportation, and the whole matter was arranged, obviously and without criticism, by the operation of the law of supply. The necessary six months' tossing fortune in a sailing ship made young ladies who were willing to under- take it scarce and valuable, we hear. We are even given to un- derstand that the unclaimed remnant, the few standing over to be more deliberately acquired, after the ball given on board for the facilitation of these matters the night succeeding the ship's I 2 THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OP A MEM SAHIB. iirriviil ill port, were licld to liavo fulloii short of wlmt tlu'v rea- sonably ini^lit liavo expected. Hut that was fifty years ago. To-day Lower Bengal, in the cold weather, is gay witii potential menisaliibs of all degrees of attraction, in raiment fresh from Oxford Street, in high spirits, in excellent form for tennis, danc- ing, riding, and full of a charmed appreciation of the " pictur- esqueness" of India. They come from the East and from the West, and from school in (Jernumy. They come to make the acquaintance of their Anglo-Indian fathers and mothers, to teach the JJible aiui plain sewing in the Zenaiuis, to stay with a married sister, to keep house for a brother who is in the Department of Police. In the hot weather a proportion nugrate northward, to Darjeeling, or Simla, in the Hills, but there are enough in our midst all the year round to produce a certain coy hesitancy and dalliance on the part of pretending bachelors, augmented by the consideration of all that might be done in England in three months' " Privilege " leave. Young Browne was an example of this. There was no doubt that young Browne was tremendously attracted by Miss Pellington — Pellington, Scott & Co., rice and coolies chiefly, a very old firm — down from the Hills for her second cold weather, and only beginning to be faintly spoilt, when it so happened that his furlough fell due. He had fully intended to " do Swit- zerland this time," but Canbury, with tennis every Wednesday afternoon at the Rectory, and Helen Peachey playing there in blue and white striped flannel, pink cheeks and a sailor hat, was so much more interesting than he had expected it to be, that Switzerland was gradually relegated five years into the future. After tennis there was always tea in the drawing-room, and Helen, in the pretty flush of her exertions, poured it out. Just at first, young Browne did not quite know which he ap- I THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIB. 3 predated most, Helen wlio poured it out, or the neat little maid in cap and apron who brought it in — it was so long since he had seen tea brou^^ht in by anything feminine in cap and apron ; but GOT MIDDLE-AGED LADIES OF WILTSHIRE CUPS OF TEA. after a bit the little maid sank to her proper status of considera- tion, and Helen was left supreme. And Helen Peachey's tennis, for grace and muscularity, was certainly a thing to see, young THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB, Browne thought. She played in tournaments while lie stood by in immaculate whites with an idle racquet, and got middle-aged ladies of Wiltshire cups of tea ; but she was not puffed up about this, and often condescended to be his partner on the Kectory lawn against the two younger Misses Peachey. It made the best sett that way, for young Browne's tennis fluctuated from indifferent bad to indifferent worse, ^'nd the younger Misses Peachey were vigorous creatures, and gave Helen all she could do to win vlth her handicap. Mr. Browne — we must really get into the way of giving him his title — was not naturally prone to depression, rather the re- verse; but when tlie two blisses Peachey came off' victorious he used to be quite uncomfortably gloomy for a time. Once I know, when he had r*^marked apologetically to Helen that he hoped she would have a better partner next time, and she ab- sent-mindedly returned, " I hope so indeed ! " his spirits went down with a run and did not rise again until somebody who overheard, chaffed Helen about her blunder and produced gentle consternation and a melting appeal for pardon. That was at a very advanced stage of these young people's relations, long after everybody but themselves knew exactly what would happen, and what did happen in the course of another week. It was a triviality, it would have had no place in our consideration of the affairs of a young man and woman who fell in love accord- ing to approved analytical methods, with subtle silent scruples and mysterious misunderstandings, in tlie modern Avay. I intro- duce it on its merits as a triviality, to indicate that George Wil- liam Browne and Helen Frances Peachey arrived at a point where they considered themselves indispensable to each other in tlie most natural, simple, and unimpeded manner. I will go so far as to say that if Helen had not been there — if she had » fl # THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 5 YOUNG Browne's tknnis fluctuatkd from indiffp:rent had to IXUIFFKRENT WORSE. spent the summer with an aunt in Ilampsliirc, as was at one time contemplated — one of the other Misses Peachey might liavo 6 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. inspired this chronicle. But that is risking a good deal, I know, at the hands of the critics, and especially jierliaps at Helen's. After all, what I want to state is merely the felicitous engage- ment, in July of a recent year, of Mr. Browne and Miss Peachey. jj Two tender months later, Mr. Browne sailed for India again, with a joyful conviction that he had done well to come home, that somewhat modified his natural grief. Helen remained be- hind for various reasons, chiefly connected with the financial future of the Browne family, and the small part of Calcutta interested in young Browne found occupation for a few days in \ wondering what Miss Pellington would have said if he had pro- \ posed to her. There was no doubt as to the jioint that he did \ not. Calcutta is always accurately informed upon such matters. \ The dreary waste of a year and four thousand miles that lay I; between Miss Peachey and the state of memsahibship was re- i lieved and made interesting in the usual way by the whole Peachey family. You know what I mean, perhaps, without I details. Miss Kitty Peachey " etched " Kate Greenway figures on the corners of table napkins. Miss Julia Peachey wrought the monogram P. M. in the centre of pillow-shams with many frills, their Aunt Plovtree, widow of a prominent physician of Can- bury, at once " gave up her time " to the adornment of Helen's future drawing-room in Kensington stitch, and Mrs. Peachey spent many hours of hers in the composition of letters to people like John Noble, holding general councils over the packets of patterns that came by return of post. Mrs. Peachey was much occupied also in receiving the condolences of friends upon so complete a separation from her daughter, but I am bound to say that she accepted them with a fair show of cheerfulness. Mrs. Peachey declared that she would wait until the time came before she worried. As to both the wild animals and the climate she THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. I nnderstood that they were very much exaggerated, and, indeed, on account of Helen's weak throat, she was quite in hopes the heat might benefit her. And really nowadays, India wasn't so very far away after all, was it? It was difficult, however, even with arguments like these, to reconcile the Canbury ladies to the hardship of Helen's fate, especially those with daughters of their own who had escaped it. Helen listened to the condolences with bright eyes and a spot of pink on each cheek. They brought her tender pangs sometimes, but, speaking generally, I am afraid she liked them. In six months it was positively time to begin to see about the trousseau, because, as Mrs. Plovtree very justly remarked, it was not like getting the child ready to be married in England, where one would know f vom a pin or a button exactly what she wanted ; in the case of Indian trousseaux everything had to be thought out and considered and time allowed to get proper advice in. For instance, there was that very thing they were talking about yesterday — that idea of getting Jaeger all through for Helen. It seemed advisable, but who knew definitehj whether it was ! And if there was an unsatisfactory thing in Mrs. Plovtree's opinion it was putting off anything whatever, not to speak of an important matter like this, till the last moment. The event redounded to the wisdom of Mrs. Plovtree, as events usually did. It took the Peachey family quite six months to collect reliable information and construct a trousseau for Helen out of it; six months indeed, as Mrs. Peachey said, seemed too little to give to it. They collected a great deal of infoima- tion. Mrs. Peachey wrote to everybody she knew who had ever been in India or had relations there, and so did several friends of the Peacheys, and the results could not have been mere gratify- ing either in bulk or in variety. As their Aunt Plovtree said. i It 8 THE SIMPI.F, ADVENTURES OF A AT EM SAHIB. they really could not luivc asked for nioro, indeed they would have had less dillleulty in making up their minds witnout quite so much. " />o be advised," one lady wrote, with impressive un- derlinings, ''and let her take as little as she ciin jws.s'b/i/ do witli. It is impossible to keep good dresses in India, the climate is simple ruinatioii to them. I shall never forget the first year of my married life on that account. It was a heart-hnutkiucj ex- perience, and 1 do hope that Helen may avoid it. Besides, the durzics, tlie native dressmakers, will coi)y a/i/jf/n/if/, and do it wondcrftdit/ well, at about a fifth of the price one pays at home." Which read very convincingly. By the same post a second cousin of Mrs. Plovtree's wrote, " If you ask me, I should say make a special point of having everything in reasonable abun- dance. The European shops ask frightful prices, the natives are always unsatisfactory, and your niece will find it very incon- venient to send to England for things. My plan was to buy as little as possible in India, and lay in supplies when we came home on leave I " " In the face of that," said Mrs. Plovtree, " what are we to do?" Ladies wrote that Helen would require as warm a ward- robe as in England ; the cold might not be so great but she would "feel it more." She must take her furs, by all means. They wrote also that when they were in India, they wore noth- ing more substantial than nun's veiling, and a light jacket the year round. They gave her intense directions about her shoes and slippers — it was impossible to get nice ones in India — they I were made very well and cheaply in the " China bazar " — they ' lasted for ever if one took care of them — they were instantly \ destroyed by mould and cockroaches when " the nuns " came I on. She would require a size larger than usual, on account of THE SIMPLE ADVEiXTUKES OF A MEMSAIlIli. we to tlic heat ; she must remember to take a size smaller beeauso she would use her feet so little that they would decrease souiewhat, everybody's did. She must bear oue thiug in mind, they were ([uite two years behind the fashion in India, so that it would bo advisable to date her garments back a little, not to be remark- al)le. In another opinion there was this advantage, that in tak- ing a fashionable trousseau to ^ndia, one could rely upon its being the correct thing for at least two years. The directions in ilannel, and cotton, and linen, were too complicated for precise detail, but they left equal freedom of choice. And choice was dittlcult, because these ladies were all ex-memsahibs, retired after fifteen, twenty, or twenty-five years' honmirable service, all equally ([ualificd to warn and to instruct, and equally anxious to do it. They had lived in somewhat different localities in India, ranging from seven to seven thousand feet above the level of the sea, in the Northwest provinces, in the Punjaub, in Southern India, in Beluchistan, and none of them had spent more than an occasional " cold weather " in Calcutta, but this triviality escaped the attention of the Peachey family, in dealing with the matter. India, to their imagination, was incapable of subdivision, a vast sandy area filled with heathen and fringed with cocoanut trees, which drew a great many young Englishmen away from their homes and their families for some occult purpose connected with drawing pay in rupees. So the Peacheys put these discrepancies down to the fact that people had such different ideas, and pro- ceeded to arrange Helen's trousseau upon a modification of all of them. "When this was quite done Mrs. Plovtree remarked with some surprise that with the addition of a few muslin frocks, the child had been fitted out almost exactly as if she were going to live in England. There was the wedding dress, which she might or might not wear upon the occasion, it would be indis- 10 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. pensable ^///l go into that. Helen was the first bride that Canbury had contributed to India, in the social memory. Two or three young men had gone forth to be brokers' assistants or civil servants or bank clerks, and an odd red-coat turned up periodically in the lower stratum of society on furlough, bringing many-armed red and yellow idols to its female relatives; but Canbury had no femi- nine connections with India, the only sort which are really binding. Helen's engagement had an extrinsic interest there- fore, as well as the usual kind, and Canbury made the most of it. There was the deplorable fact, to begin with, that she could not be married at home. Canbury gave a dubious assent to its IB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIH. II losen pri- > show it ; [•ties ; two lit I must leir pages skill and e prehen- ey family 3 distance, ipany you idies have semblance ing condi- i certainly if not all s\\ clerical P. and 0., rtisements self would ributed to men had s or bank the lower d red and 1 no femi- are really 'est there- e most of she could lent to its necessity ; everybody had a dim understanding of the oxigencies of " leave," and knew the theory that such departures from the orthodox and usual form of nuitrimonial proceeding were com- mon and unavoidable. Yet in its heart and out of the Poachey and Plovtree earshot, Canbury firmly dissented, not without criticism. Would anybody tell it why they had not gone out together last year? On the face of it, there could be no ques- tion of saving. The young man was not in debt, and received a salary of five hundred pounds a year — had not Mr. Peachey's curate married Jennie Plovtree a month after they were engaged on two hundred, and no expectations whatever ! Or wliy, since they had made up their minds to wait, could they not have put it off another year ! Surely in two years Mr. Browne might scrape enough together to come home again ! Canbury thought it possessed a slight opinion of a young man who could not come after his wife. Privately Canbury upheld the extremest tradi- tions of chivalry, and various among Miss Peachey's young lady friends, quite unconscious of fibbing, confided to each other that "they wouldn't be in Helen's place for anything." In the rectory drawing-room, however, these stringencies took a smiling face and a sympathetic form, sometimes disappearing altogether in the exaltation of the subject's general aspects. Helen was told it was very " brave " of her, and Mrs. Peachey was admired for her courage in letting her daughter go. At which she and Helen smiled into each other's eyes understand ingly. Then Canbury began to search the aforesaid advertisements in the ladies' papers for mementoes suitable in character and price, and to send them to the rectory with as hearty wishes for the happiness of the future Brownes as if they had behaved properly in every respect. 12 tub: simple adventures oe a memsaiiid. CHAPTER 11. rp^O Mrs. Peachey, one very consoling circumstance connected T' with Helen's going to India was the good she would prob- ably be able to do to " those surrounding her." Helen had al- ways been " active " at home ; she had been the inspiration of work-parties, the life and soul of penny-readings. She often took the entire superintendence of the night school. The Can- bury branch of the Y. W. C. T. U. did not know how it should get on without her. Besides playing the organ of St. Stephen's, in which, however, another Miss Peachey was by this time ready to succeed her. Much as Mrs. Peachey and the parish would miss Helen, it was a sustaining thought that she was going amongst those whose need of her was so much greater than Canbury's. Mrs. Peachey had private chastened visions, chiefly on Sunday afternoons, of Helen in her new field of labor. Mrs. Peachey was not destitute of imagination, and she usually pic- tured Helen seated under a bread-fruit tree in her Indian garden, dressed in white muslin, teaching a circle of little " blacks " to read the Scriptures. Helen was so successful with children ; and so far as being tempted to its ultimate salvation with goodies was concerned, a black child was probably just like a white one. Of course, Helen would have to adapt her induce- ments to circumstances — it was not likely that a little Bengali could be baited with a Bath bun. Doubtless she would have to offer them rice or — what else was it they liked so much ? — oh HIB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 13 connected )uld 2;)rob- en had al- •iration of *ihe often The Can- it should Stephen's, ime ready sh would v'as going ater than IS, chiefly or. Mrs. lally pic- r Indian of little sful with salvation just like * induce- Bengali have to ch ?— oh yes! sugar-cane. Over the form of these delicacies Mrs. Peachey usually went to sleep, to dream of larger scliomes of heathen emancipation which Helen should inaugunite. Mr. Peachey, who knew how hard the human heart could be, even in Can- bury, among an enlightened people enjoying all the blessings of the nineteenth century, was not so .ianguine. lie said he be- lieved these Hindus were very subtle-minded, and Helen was not much at an argument. He understood they gave able theolo- gians very hard nuts to crack. Their ideas were entirely dilTer- ent from ours, and Helen would be obliged to master their ideas before effecting any very radical change in them. He was afraid there would be difficulties. Mrs. Plovtree settled the whole question. Helen was not going out as a missionary, except in so far as that every woman who married undertook the charge of one heathen, and she could not expect to jump into work of that sort all at once. lie- sides, the people were so difficult to get at, all shut up in zenanas and places. And she did not know the language ; first of all, she would have to conquer the language ; not that it would take Helen long, for see what she did in French and German at school in less than a year! For her part, she would advise Helen to try to do very little at first — to begin, say, with her own servants; she would have a number of them, and they would be greatly under her personal influence and control. Mrs. Plovtree imparted an obscure idea of Helen's responsibility for the higher welfare of her domestics, and a more evident one that it would be rather a good thing to practice on them, that they would afford convenient and valuable material for experi- ments. In all of which Mrs. Peachey thoughtfully acquiesced, though in fancy she still allowed herself to picture Helen lead- ing in gentle triumph a train of Rajahs to the bosom of the 14 THE SIMri.E ADVKXTl'RES OE A MEM SAHIB. If ' !;■ '- Church — ii train of nice liajuiis, clean and savoury. That, as I have said, was always on Sunday afternoons. On the secular days of the week they discussed other matters, non-spiritual, and persoiud, to which they were able to bring more delinitcness of perspective, and they found a great deal to say. A friend of young Browne's had gone home opportunely on six months' leave, and his recently acquired little wife would be "delighted," she said, to wreak her new-found dignity upon Helen in the capacity of chaperone for the voyage out. IJut for this happy circumstance, Helen's transportation would have pre- sented a serious ditlicultv, for the Peachevs were out of the way of knowing the ever-ilowing and returning tide of Anglo-Indians that find old friends at Cheltenham and take lodgings in Ken- sington, and 1111 their brief holiday with London theatres and shopping. As it was, there was great congratulation among the Peacheys, and they hastened to invite Mr. and Mrs. Mac- donald to spend a short time at the rectory before the day on which the ship sailed. ^Irs. Macdonald was extremely sorry that they couldn't come; nothing would have given them more pleas- ure, but they had so many engagements with old friends of her husbaiul's, and the time was getting so short and they had such a quantity of things to do in London before they sailed, that— the Peacheys must resign themselves to disappointment. Mrs. Macdonald hoped that they would all meet on board the Kite- dive, but held out very faint hopes of making acquaintance sooner than that. It was a bright agreeable letter as the one or two that came before had been, but it left them all in a difficulty to conjure up Mrs. Macdonald, and unitedly they lamented the necessity. What Mr. Macdonald was like, as Mrs. Plovtree ob- served, being of no consequence whatever. But it was absolute, and not until the Aliedive was within an hour of weighing an- IIIB. TJiat, as I the seciiliir iritual, and nitcness of rtuncly on 3 would be nity upon . J3ut for have })re- )f tlie way lo-Iiidians :s in Ken- ?atres and n among ^Ii-s. Mac- lie day on 5orry that ore pleas- ds of her had such d, tliat — It. Mrs. the Khc- aintance le one or lifRculty ited the tree ob- ibsohite, ling an- i6 THE SIMPLE ADVEXrURES OF A MEMSAHIR, I 1 chor at tlio Hoyiil Albert Docks, did the assombled Peaclieys, for- lorn on the main deck in the midst of Helen's boxes, ^et a ^dimpse of Airs. Macdonald. Then it was ))rief. One of the stewards pointed ont the I'eachey group to a very young lady in a very tight-litting tailor-made dress, swinging an ulster over her arm, who a2)])roachc'd them briskly with an outstretched hand and a businesslike little smile. " I think you must be Mr. and Mrs. Peachey," slie said ; " I am Mrs. Macdonald. And where is the young lady?" Mr. Peachey unbent the back of his neck in the clerical manner, and Mrs. Peachey indicated Helen as well as she could in the suffusion of the moment, taking farewell counsels cf her sisters with pink eyelids. " But you mustn't mind her go- ing, Mrs. Peachey ! " Mrs. Macdonald went on vivaciously, shak- ing hands with the group, " she will be sure to like it. Every- body likes it. / am devoted to India ! She'll soon get accus- tomed to everything, and then she won't want to come home — that's the way it was with me. I dare say you won't believe it, but I'm dying to get back ! You've seen your cabin?" slie de- manded of Helen, " is it forward or aft ? Are you port or star- board?" The Peacheys opened their eyes respectfully at this nau- tical proficiency, and Helen said she was afraid she didn't know, it was down some stairs and one turned to the left, toward the end of a long passage, and then to the right into a little corner. " Oh, then you're starboard and a little forward of the engines ! " Mrs. Macdonald declared. " Very lucky you are ! You'll have your port open far oftener than we will — we're weather-side and almost directly over the screw. So much for not taking one's passage till three weeks before sailing — and very fortunate we were to get one at all, the agent said. We I I I y//A V yyyy, SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. 17 c'licys, for- \i\\s^. tlio place to ourselves though, one can generally manage xes, get a that bv paying for it you know— one comfort! How numy in neof the I your cabin?" \ J'l'ly i'» n "Three of us !" Helen responded apprehensively, "and it i» '*^<''' lier g,,,.), ^ little one! And the one whose name is Stitoh has piled hand and all }u.r rugs and portnumteaux on my bed, and there's nowhere and Afrs. •• to put mine !" lere is the A "Oh, tiie cabins in this ship are not small," returned Mrs. '<^'k in the Macdonald with seriousness. "She's got a heavy cargo and ell as she they're pretty low in the water, if you like, i)ut they're not snudl. )unsels of ^Vait till you get used to it a little! As to Madain Stitch, just d her go- pop her bags and things on the floor — don't hesitate a moment, •^ly, siiak- One must assert one's rights on shipboard — it's positively the ^^■^'^7" only way ! But there are some people to see me oit — I must et accus- fly!" She gave them a brisk nod and was on the wing to her home — friends when ^[rs. Peachey put a hand on her arm. "You lelieve it, | spoke of the ship's being low in the water, Mrs. Macdonald. ^^^ de- I You don't think— you don't think there is any danger on that or star- | account?" Little Mrs. Macdonald stopped to enjoy her laugh. " Oh lis nau- ^ dear, no ! " she said with vast amusement, " rather the other didn't M way I should think — and we'll be a great deal steadier for it!" ^e left, MThen she went, and the Peacheys saw her in the confused ^ "ito a J distance babbling as gaily in the midst of her new-comers as if a thought of the responsibilities of chaperonage had never ^^ ^he ^ entered her head. ^^ are ! 9| " Helen, I believe you are older than she is ! " exclaimed we're '\m the youngest Miss Peachey. uch for % " I don't like her," remarked the second succinctly. " She % — and jl giggles and she gabbles. Helen, I wish some of u>i were going I. We J with you." I8 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB, " She doesn't seem to mind travelling," said the Miss Peachey with the prospective claim to the title. "Dear me,, Helen!" began Mrs. Peachey almost dolorously, "she — she seems very bright," changing her comment. After all they must make the best of it. The Rev. Peachey clasped his stick behind his back, and tapped the deck with it, saying nothing, with rather a pursing of his wide shaven lips, Helen looked after Mrs. Macdonald helplessly, and her family ex- changed glances in which that lady might have read deprecia- tion. " Your roll-up, Helen ? " exclaimed Mrs. Peachey. " Here, mamma." " You have seven small pieces, remember ! Have you got your keys? Are you sure you are dressed warmly enough ? It will be some time before you get to India, you know!" Mrs. Peachey had suffered an accession of anxiety in the last ten minutes. They stood looking at each other in the common misery of coming separation, casting about for last words and finding none of any significance, for people do not anticipate an event for a whole year without exhausting themselves on the topic of it. Helen would keep a little diary; she would post it at Gibraltar, Naples, Port Said, and Colombo; and they were to write overland to Naples, and by the next mail to Calcutta, which would reach before she did. These time-worn arrange- ments were made over again. Helen thought of a last affec- tionate message to her Aunt Plovtree and was in the act of wording it, when a steward with a yellow envelope inquired of them for "any lady by the name of Peachey." The contents of the yellow envelope had telegraphic brevity. " Good-bye and God bless you ! J. Plovtree." Helen read, and immediately AHIB. J tlie Miss t dolorously, lent. After ?hey clasped th it, saying lips, Helen family ex- id deprecia- THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIB. 19 ive you got enough ? It ow!" Mrs. ;he last ten n misery of md finding te an event the topic post it at ley were to Calcutta, n arrange- last affec- the act of inquired of le contents od-bye and n mediately ok out her handkerchief again. "Just like Jane!" said Mrs. Pcachey, sadly, with her eyes full, and Mr. Peachey, to cover his emotion read aloud the hours at which the messjige had l)een received and delivered. Forty-two minutes" he an- ounced " fairly quick ! " elen proposed a walk on the uarter-dec^:. " The luggage, y dear child ! " ^Irs. Peach- ey cried. " We mustn't leave the luggage, with all these people about ! James, dear, it would not be safe to leave the luggage, would it ! You and the girls may go, Helen. Your father and I will stay here." "Oh, no!" Helen re- turned reproachfully, and clung to them all. The crowd on the deck increased and grew noisier, people streamed up and down the wide gangway. Cabin luggage came rattling down in cabs, perilously late, the arm of the great steam-crane swung load after load high in |air itiid lowered it into the hold, asserting its own right of way. "That's one of your tin-lined boxes, Helen," exclaimed Mrs. Peachey, intent on the lightening of the last load, " and AUNT PLOVTREE. 20 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. oh, I'm sure it is not safe, dear ! James won't you call to them that it is not safe ! " But the long deal case with " Miss Peachey, Calci'TTa," in big black letters on it was already describing an arc over the heads of the unwary, and as it found its haven Mrs. Peachey made a statement of excited re- lief, " I never saw such carelessness ! " said she. A number of ladies, dressed a good deal alike, arrived upon the deck in company and took up a position near the forward part of the ship, where the second class passengers were gathered together, producing little black books. From these they began to sing with smiling faces and great vigour, various hymns, with sentiments appropriate to long voyages, danger, and exile from home. It was a parting attention from their friends to a num- ber of young missionaries for Burmah, probably designed to keep up their spirits. The hymns were not exclusively of any church or creed — Moody and Sankey contributed as many of them as the Ancient and Modern^ but they were all lustily emo- tional and befitting the occasion to the most unfortunate de- gree. The departing missionaries stood about in subdued groups and tried to wave their handkerchiefs. One or two young lady missionaries found refuge in their cabins where they might sob comfortably. The notes rang high and bathed the whole ship in elegy, plaintively fell and reveled in the general wreck of spirits and affectation of hilarity. It began to rain a little, but the ladies were all provided with umbrellas, and under them sang on. *& " While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high." " What idiots they are ! " remarked the youngest plain- spoken Miss Peachey when it became impossible to ignore the HIB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 21 Oil call to I'ith " Miss i'as already and as it excited re- rived upon lie forward 'e gatliered they began )^mns, with exile from to a num- esigned to ely of any 3 many of istily emo- tunate de- subdued le or two here they lathed the le general \\ to rain ellas, and st plain- ■nore the effect upon Helen's feelings any longer. " As if they couldn't find anything else to sing than that ! " " Oh, my dear^'' rebuked Mrs. Peachey, drying her eyes, " we may be sure that their motive is everything that is good." Whereat the youngest Miss Peachey, unsubdued, muttered " Mo- tive r' " n'all this for the cabin, miss ? " asked a steward, grasping a hat-box and a portmanteau. "I don't quite know 'ow that there lonrj box is a-going in, miss. Is it accordin' to the Com- jumy's regillations, miss?" Mr. Peachey interposed, with dig- nity, and said that it was — the precise measurements. It came from the Army and Navy Stores, he was quite sure the size was correct. The man still looked dubious, but when Helen said, regardless of measurements, that she must have it, that it con- tained nearly everything she wanted for the voyage, he shoul- dered it without further dissent. He was accustomed to this ultimatum of seafaring ladies, and bowed to it. Mrs. Peachey began to think that they ought to go down to tlie cabin and stay beside the luggage, there were so many odd- looking people about ; but she succumbed to the suggestion of being carried off; and they all went up on the quarter-deck. Mrs. Macdonald was there — they might see something more of Mrs. Macdonald. They clung to the hope. They did see something more of Mrs. Macdonald — a little. She interrupted herself and her friends long enough to approach the Peacheys and ask if all Helen's luggage was on board, " wed- ding presents and all?" jocularly. Mrs. Peachey replied fer- vently that she hoped so, and Mrs. Macdonald said. Oh, that was all right then, and Was she a good sailor? Oh, well, she would soon get over it. And oh, by the by — departing to her beckon- ing friends again — it was all right about their seats at table — .^ 22 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. Miss Peacliey was to sit by them — she had seen the head stew- ard and he said there would be no difficulty. Having thus re- assured them, " I'll see you again," said Mrs. Macdonald, and noddingly departed. The first whistle shrilled and bellowed, and a parting stir re- sponded to it all over the ship. Mrs. Peachey looked agitated, 1 and laid a hand on Helen's arm. " There is no cause for haste, mamma," said the Rev. Peachey, looking at his watch. " We have still twenty minutes, and there is a quantity of freight yet to be got on board." The missionary ladies began a new hymn, '1 !l I \ " Oh, think of the friends over there ! " it " Only twenty minutes, my love ! Then I think we ought really to be getting off ! My darling child " The whistle blew again stertorously, and the gangway began to throng with friends of the outward-bound. The dear, tender, human-hearted Peacheys clustered about the girl they were giv- ing up — the girl who was going from their arms and their fire- side an infinite distance, to a land of palm-trees and yams, to marry — and what a lottery marriage was ! — a young Browne. They held her fast, each in turn. " I almost w-wish I w-weren't go — " sobbed Helen in her mother's embraces. " Helen ! " said the youngest Miss Peachey sternly, with a very red nose, " you do nothing of the sort! You're only too pleased and proud to go, and so should I be in your place ! " Which rebuke revived Helen's loyalty to her Browne if it did not subdue the pangs with which she hugged her sister. At las: the gangway was withdrawn and all the Peacheys were on the other side of it. It rained faster, the missionary ladies still sang on, people called last words to their friends in the damp crowd below. A box of sweets was thrown to a young \HIB. J head stew- ing thus rc- douald, and ting stir re- ed agitated, le for haste, itch. " We freight yet new hymn. : we ought way began ear, tender, S were giv- their fire- cl yams, to \ Browne, w-weren't en ! " said lose, " you proud to c:e revived the pangs THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 23 lady on tlie main deck — it dropped into the black water between the sliip and tlie wharf and was fished out with great excite- ment. The Pcaclieys gathered in a knot under their several umbrellas, and Helen stood desolately by herself watching them, laow and then exchanging a watery smile. They cast off the ropes, the Lascars skipped about like monkeys, the crowd stood back, slowly the great ship slipped away from the wharf into the river, and as she moved down stream the crowd ran with her a little wav, drowning the missionarv ladies with hurrahs. In the Peacheys' last glimpse of their Helen she was standing beside little Mrs. Macdonald and a stout gentleman with a pale face, rather flabby and deeply marked about the mouth and under the eyes — a gentleman whom nature had intended to be fair but whom climatic conditions had darkened in defiance of the inten- tion. ^Irs. Macdonald tapped the gentleman in a sprightly way with her parasol, for the Peacheys' benefit, and he took off his hat. The Peachey family supposed, quite correctly, that that must be Mr. Macdonald. Peacheys lissionary r lends in ) a young 24 'rHE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIB. (' I \\ CHAPTER III. % I ii.1 HELEN thought the prospect of Eiighind slipping away from lier in the rain as the shi]» throbbed down the river, too deso- late for endurance, so she de- scended to her cabin with the un- avowed intention of casting her- self upon her berth to weep. Miss Stitch was there, however, and Mrs. Forsyth - Jones, who occupied tlie berth above Miss Stitch's, and the steward, which seemed to Helen a good many, and she retreated. " Oh, come in ! " both the ladies cried ; but Helen thought it was obviously im- possible. She vi'andered into the long dining - saloon and sat down in one of the re- volving chairs; she watched a fat ayah patting a baby to sleep on the floor, looked into the ladies' cabin and went hastily out again, for already the dejected had begun to gather there, ISAJIIB. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTVRES OF A MEMSAHIR. 25 the prospect slipping away n as the ship ver, too dcsd- so she dc- with the uii- casting her- o weep. Miss ever, and Mrs. occupied the tch's, and the seemed to nany, and she in ! " both the but Helen obviously im- wandered into g - saloon and )ne of the re- she watched ting a baby t(' d went hastily > gather there. prone on the sofas and commiserated by the stewardesses. Finally she made her way upon deck again, meeting Mrs. Mae- donald in the companion-way. "Are you all right?" asked Mrs. Macdonald cheerfully ; but, before Helen had time to say that she was or was not, the lady had disappeared. The deck was full of irresolute people like herself, who sat Hbout on the damp benches or walked up and down under the liwning, still with the look of being fresh from town, still in gloves and stiff hats, and land-faring garments. They put their hands in their pockets and shivered, and looked askance at each other, or made vain attempts to extract their own from the steamer chairs that were heaped up astern, waiting the oflfices of a quartermaster. An occasional hurrying steward was stopped a dozen times by passengers thirsting for informa- ition. Barefooted Lascars climbed about their monkey-like busi- Jiess among the ropes, or polished the brasses on the smoking- cabin, or holystoned a deck which seemed to Helen immacu- lately clean before. She found a dry corner and sat down in it to consider how much more familiar with the ship many of the people seemed to be than she was, and to envy all the accus- jlomed ones. It seemed to Helen that she had better not analyse her other emotions. She wasn't comfortable, l)ut no doubt she Joon would be; she wasn't cheerful; but how could anybody xpect that ? She was restless and damp aiul unhappy, and it inally became necessary for her to draw young Browne's photo- |raph out of her hand-bag and peruse it in shelter of the Diuhj j^raphic for a very long time. After which her spirits rose |ppreciably. " He is a dear ! " she smiled to herself, " and he's |ot a lovely forehead— and in just five weeks I shall see him Igain— just five weeks ! " Quite an ordinary reflection you see, without a shade of 3 I 26 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. subtlety, a reflection probably common to engaged young ladies the world over; but I have already warned you under no circum- stances to expect anything extraordinary from Helen. It will be my fault if you find her dull, I >hall be in that case no faith- ful historian, but a traducer. I have not known the present Mrs. Browne to be dull, even at the close of a protracted round of Indian social gaieties ; but you must not expect her to be original. The voyage to Calcutta began in this way, and I happen to know that its chief feature of consolation — young Browne's forehead — remained in Helen's pocket, and was constantly be- spoken. Especially perhaps in the Bay of Biscay, which ful- filled all its traditions for her benefit. I fear that there were moments, tempestuous moments, in the Bay of Biscay, height- ened by the impassioned comments of Miss Stitch and Mrs. Forsyth-Jones, Avhen Helen did not dare to dwell upon tlu; comparative advantages of desiccated spinsterhood in Canbury, and matrimony in foreign parts attainable only by sea. She felt that it would be indiscreet, that she could not trust her conclusions to do credit to her fealty. If it were not for Miss Stitch and Mrs. Forsyth-Jones, Helen reflected, the horrors of the situation would have been less keen ; but I have no doubt that each of these ladies entertained the same sentiments toAvards her two fellow-voyagers. They united, however, in extollinix the steward. The stewardess was a necessarily perfunctory per- son, with the quaverings of forty ladies in her ears at once. The stewardess was always sure she " didn't know, ma'am," and seemed to think it was a duty one owed the ship to go up on deck, no matter how one felt. She was also occasionally guilty of bringing one cold vegetables, if one occurred about thirty- ninth upon her list of non-diners in public. But the steward SAHIB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 27 young latlios er no circum- ulen. It will case no faitli- Q the present tracted r 011 nil 3ct her to be I happen to Ling Browne's constantly be- LV, which ful- lat there were 3iscay, height- itch and Mrs. veil upon the 1 in Canbury, bv sea. Sho not trust her ! not for Miss the horrors of lave no doubt ments towards in extolling rfunctory per- ears at once. ^, ma'am," and ) to go up on ,sionally guilty ahout thirty- it the steward was a man, and always respectfully cheerful. lie could tell exactly wliy it was the ship rolled in that peculiar manner — owing to the disposition of iron in the hold. Ik' kiu'W just how long they would be in "the Bay," and what sort of weather "she" would be likely to experience during tlu' night; also could predict within a quarter of 4in hour, the time at which they would land at Gibraltar. He was generally incorrect in s|every particular, but that made uo diiference to the value of his sanguine prophecies, while it mitigated the distressful elTeets of his gloomy ones. And it was always he who brought the ifirst advice that the ports might be opened, mIio calmed all fear of a possible rat or cockroach " coming up from the hold," and who heralded the ladies' ap])earance on deck with arinfuls of rugs, in the days of early convalescence. They chanted to one another continually how " nice " he was, and liow hard he i?was obliged to work, poor fellow, each mentally determining a ;higher figure for her farewell tip than she had thought of the iflay before. This is the custom of ladies the world over who Bail upon the seas. > It must be meutioned that Mrs. Macdonald visited Helen's Jpabin several times in the Bay of Biscay. For her ])art ^Irs. Itfacdonald was never ill, she simply made up her mind not to '§e, and in her opinion if Helen would only commit herself to a Ipmilar effort she would be all right immediately. The expres- jpon of this opinion rather lessened the value of Mrs. Macdon- Ipd's sympathy ; and the announcement that there was really vely weather going on above and the ship was beginning to be Jolly, failed to make Helen any more comfortable. " Well, l^ou are funny ! " Mrs. Macdonald would say cheerfully in de- parting, and she said it every day. Mr. Macdonald remarked that Gibraltar looked much as usual 28 THE SIMPI.E ADVEXTURES OF A MEMSAIllH. the morning they steamed under its hostile slmdow, jind Mrs. Macdonald said tliat if she wasn't in absohite need of some darn- ing cotton and letter-paper she wouldn't think of going ashore — the place was such an old story. The consideration of darn in ff I I I I lit 30 77//=: s/M }']./•: ADVj:xrL-/a:s o/- a az/.a/s.-u/zb. moss. Miss I'ciiclu'y would liuvo liked at least four of these, tlioy struck her as so ()ri<;iiial and clever, until ^frs. Ma(;donald at her elbow said, in an iinpressivo whisper " Huiil ! Vou see them in board IN i/-houii(}S in Calcutta!" when she put them reluctantly down, and lK)u<;ht a big bedecked Spanish liat to make a work-basket of, and a large fan, upon which sundry ladies of de- praved appearance and very Irisli features were dancing a Jaii- danijo instead. 1 have seen that fan in the i)resent Mrs. Browne's Calcutta drawing-room frequently since. She has ii fastened on the vail immediately under a photogravure of The Anyelus^ and slic will not take it down. Between Gibraltar and Xajjles, Helen observed the peculiari- ties of the species P. and 0. passenger, the person who si)ends so large a portion of a lifetime shorter than the average, in won- dering how much more of this delightful or this abominable weather "• we'll have," in the Indian Ocean or the Ked Sea. She observed that ^Miss Stitch arose betimes every morning, and at- tended the service held by the little i)alo ritualistic clergyman in the saloon before the tables were laid for breakfast, which struck her as eminently proper, !Miss Stitch being a missionary. Slu- also noticed that ^Irs. Forsyth-Jones, returning to her husband in Burmah, with three photographs of him in uniform variously arranged in the cabin, had as many small flirtations well in hand, one in the morning, of the promenade sort, with a middle- aged Under Secretary, one in the afternoon, conducted in long chairs, enhanced by sunset, with a Royal Engineer, whose wife was similarly occupied at the other end of the ship, and one in the evening in a secluded corner of the hurricane deck, chari- tably witnessed by the moon and stars, with a callow indig(j planter about the age of her eldest son. Helen thought that the missionary or somebody, some older person, ought to speak to this A II IB, i THE SI Mr IE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. 3! of tlioso, tlu'V iloiiiild Jit lllT I SCO them in II rc'liK.'tuiitly , to mako a \- Indies of dt'- inc'iii^' a fttn- prcsi'iit Mi'rf. }. She has it [•avure of The the poculiuri- 11 who spends erage, in won- lis ahomiuablf Kod Sea. Slic jrning, and at- clergyman in :, wliich struck ssionary. She her husband 'orm variously ations well in with a middle- .ducted in long eer, whose wife ip, and one in ne deck, chari- callow indigo lought that the to speak to this 4ldy in terms of guarded n'proof, and tell her that her conduct was more conspicuous than perhaps slie knew ; and . Browne's reminiscences of that voyage, which must, according to the volumes of them, have lasted a space of about seven months. 1 believe they were all very gay at Port Said, walkini: through the single wide China bazaar street of the place, flam- ing with colour and resonant of musicians in the gambliiiL' houses, drinking black coffee on the boulevard, and realiziiiL' no whit of Port Said's iniquity. The Suez Canal had no inci- dent but several loathly odors, and then came the long smooth voyage to Colombo and a fantastic glimpse of first cocoanut trees fringing the shores of Ceylon. A great deal here about sapphires and rubies and cat's eyes and little elephants madt of ivory and small brown diving-boys, and first tropical impres- sions, but I must not linger in the chronicling. Then tht sail up to ]\[adras, and the brief tarrying there, and the day.- that came after, short days when everybody packed and rejoiced. At last, one night at ten o'clock, a light that was not a star, shining far through the soft still darkness beyond the bow nf the ship, the light at the mouth of a wide brown river that SAHIB. Naples to sec; isiiig show oi ever boy tlu' sm to the post the registered e a maimer as 5 abroad daily, [aimed, as ho is quite worth ley departed — 3le day, plus a them. space to Mrs. lust, according )f about seven i Said, walkiiii: he place, flam- the gambling and realizing al had no inci- le long smooth first cocoanut eal here about (lephants matU' ropical impres- \ct. Then tlu' , and the day- id and rejoiced was not a star. )nd the bow <>f own liver that THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 35 dipped to tiie sea through the India, Helen would see in the llloriiing, and past the city whither her simple heart had gone llifore her. • • • • • • • • Mrs. Macdonald kept out of the way. It was the one con- widerate thing she did during the voyage. Young Browne, ittther white and nervous-looking, came upon Mr. Macdonald first in the turbulent shore-going crowd. Mr. Macdonald was genial and reassuring. " You'll find her over there, old man," said he without circumlocution, " rather back. Better bring her up to llungerford Street to breakfast yourself." And Helen straightway was found by young Browne in the precise direction Mr. ^Macdonald had indicated, and "rather back." She always remembers very distinctly that on that occasion t-iie wore a blue Chambray frock and a sailor hat with a white ribbon round it. It is not a matter of consequence, still it might as well be mentioned. 36 THE SIMPLE ADVEXrURES OE A MEMSAHIB. '■t CHAPTER IV. T HAVE ]io doubt that the present Mrs. Browne would like -L nie to linger over her first impressions of Calcutta. She has a habit now of stating that they were keen. Tliat the pillared houses and the palm-shaded gardens, and the multi- plicity of tnrbaned domestics gave her special raptures, which slie has since outgrown, but still likes to claim. She said noth- ing al)out it at the time, however, and I am disposed to believe that the impressions came later, after young Browne had become a familiar object, and all the boxes were unpacked. As they were not married immediatelv, but a week after tlie Khedive arrived, to give Mrs. Macdonald time to unpack her boxes, the former of these processes was an agreeably gradual one occu- pying six morning and evening drives in Mr. Browne's dog- cart, and sundrv half-hours between. Mrs. Macdonald wanted to make the house pretty for the wedding. " Really, child," said she, " you can't be married in a barn like this ! " and to that end she drew forth many Liberty muslins, much "art" needlework, and all the decoration flotsam and jetsam of the season's summer sales in Oxford Street. I understand that botii the Brownes protested against the plan to have a wedding ; they only wanted to be married, they said, of course in the Church, regularly, but without unnecessary circumstance. " People can see it next day in The Englishman^^'' suggested young Browne, urged privately to this course by Helen. But it was a point THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 17 upon which Mrs. Macdonald was inflexible. " Certainly not a big wedding," said she, " since you don't want it, but a few people we must have just to see it properly done. Wluit would Calcutta think of you " — reproachfully, to young Browne, " getting the knot tied that way, in a corner ! Be- sides, it will be a lovely way of letting everybody know we are back. Vll manage it — I know exactly who you ought to have ! " '{'hereupon Helen brought out from among her effects a cer- tain square wooden box, and besought that it might be opened. " It's — it's the cake," she explained with blushes ; mother tJiought I ought to bring it — " " Oh, of course ! " exclaimed Mrs. Macdonald briskly ; " every- body does. There were five altogether on board tiie Khodive. Let us hope it has carried well ! " They opened the box, and Helen took out layers of silver paper with nervous fingers. " It seems a good deal crushed," slie said. Then she came npon a beautiful white sugar bird of Paradise lacking his tail, and other fragments dotted with little silver pellets, and the petals of a whole flower-garden in ])ink icing. " It has not carried well ! " she exclaimed grievously — and it hadn't. It was the proudest erection of the Canbury con- fectioner's experience, a glory and a wonder when it arrived at the Rectory, but it certainly had not carried well : it was a travelled wreck. " Looks very sorry for itself ! " remarked young Browne, who happened to be present. " It must have happened in that hateful Bay of Biscay I " said Helen, with an inclination to tears. "Oh, never mind!" Mrs. Macdonald put in airily, as if it were a trifle. "It's easy enough to get another. I'll send a 38 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. chit to Peliti's this very afternoon. You can use up this one for live o'clock tea afterwards." "But do you think it won't do at all, Mrs. Macdonald?" Helen begged. " You see the lower tier isn't much damaged, and it came all the way from home, you know." " I think it ought to do," remarked young Browne. " My dear ! " cried her hostess, " think of how it would look! In the midst of everything ! It would quite spoil your wedding ! Oh, no — we'll have another from Peliti's." " What could one do ? " confided Mrs. Browne to me after- wards. " It was her allair — not ours in the least. We were get- ting married, don't you see, for her amusement ! " But that was in one of Mrs. Browne's ungrateful moments. And was private to mo. Generally speaking, Mrs. Browne said she thouglit the Macdonalds arranged everything charmingly. The Canbury cake went, however, to the later suburban residence of the Brownes, and was there consumed by them in the reckless moments of the next six months. I was one of the people Mrs. Macdonald knew the Brownes ought to have, and I went to the wedding, in a new heliotrope silk. I remember that also came out by the Khedive. It was in the Cathedral, at four o'clock in the afternoon, full choral service, quantities of flowers, and two heads of departments in the company, one ex-Commissioner, and a Member of Council. None of them were people the Brownes were likely to see much of afterward, in my opinion, and I wondered at Mrs. Macdonald's asking them ; but the gown she graced the occasion in would have justified an invitation to the Viceroy — pale green poplin with silver embroidery. The bride came very bravely up the aisle upon the arm of her host, all in the white China silk, a little crushed in places, w^hich THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 39 lis one laid ? " maged, d look! idding ! e after- Bre get- ut that nd was aid she f. The ence of reckless irownes iotrope It was choral ents ill Council, e much onald's 1 would poplin 1 of her which the Caiibury dressmaker had been reluctantly persuaded to make unostentatiously. Tlie bridegroom stood consciously ready with his supporter; we all listened to the nervous vows, sympa- thetically thinking back ; the little Eurasian choir-boys sang lustily over the pair. Two inquisitive black crows perched in tlic open window and surveyed the ceremony, flying off with lioarse caws at the point of the blessing ; from the world out- side came the hot bright glare of the afternoon sun upon the Maidan, and the creaking of the ox-gharries,* and the chatting of the mynas in the casucrinaf trees, and the scent of some waxy heavy-smelling thing of the country — how like it was to every other Indian wedding where a maid comes trippingly from over seas to live in a long chair under a punkah, and bo a law unto kitmutgars ! The new Mrs. Browne received our congratulations with shy distance after it was all over. She looked round at the big stucco church with its white pillars and cane chairs, and at our unfa- miliar faces, with a little pitiful smile. I had, at the moment, a feminine desire to slap Mrs. Macdonald for having asked us. And all the people of the Rectory, who ought to have been at the Avedding, were going about their ordinary business, with only now and then a speculative thought of this. Everybody who really cared was four thousand miles away, and unaware. We could not expect either of them to think much of our perfunc- tory congratulations, although Mr. Browne expressed himself very politely to the contrary in the valuable sentiments he uttered afterwards in connection with champagne cup and the IVditi wedding cake, on Mrs. Macdonald's veranda. They had a five days' honeymoon, so far as the outer world * Native ox-carts. f Australian fir. 40 /'///•; SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. ' was concerned, and they spent it at Patapore. DarjilinfT, as young lirowne was careful to explain to Helen, was the ])roper l)lace, really the thin*,' to do, but it took twenty-six hours to get to Durjiling, and twenty-six hours to get back, and no- body wanted to i)lan off a five days' honeymoon like that. Patapore, on the contrary, was quite accessible, only six hours by mail. " Is it a hill-station ? " asked Helen, when they discussed it. " Not precisely a hill-station, darling, but it's ou rising ground — a thousand feet higher than this." " Is it an interesting place?" she inquired. " I think it ought to be, under the circumstances." " George! I mean are there any temples there, or any- thin (r V" " 1 don't remember any temples. There is a capital dak- bungalo." " And what is a dak-bungalow, dear ? How short you cut your hair, you dear old thing ! " " That was provisional against your arrival, darling — so you couldn't pull it. A dak-bungalow is a sort of government hotel, put up in unfrequented places where there aren't any others, for the accommodation of travellers." " Unfrequented places ! George ! Any snakes or tigers?" " Snakes — a few, I dare say. Tigers — let me see ; you might hear of one about fifty miles from there." " Dreadful ! " shuddered Helen, rubbing her cheek upon George's convict crop. " But what is the attraction., dear ? " " The air," responded he, promptly substituting his mous- tache. " Wonderful air ! Think of it, Helen — a thousand feet up But Helen had not been long enough in India to think of iling, as 3 proper hours to {ind no- ke that. [X hours ssed it. Q rising THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIH. 41 or any- ital dak- you cut — so you nt hotel, :hers, for tigers ? " DU might ?k upon ar?" is mous- jand feet think of it. " Air is a thing one can got anywhere," slie suggeslod ; " isn't there anytliing else?" "Sechision, darling — tlie most perfect sechision ! Lots to eat— tliere's always the railway restaurant if tlic ilak-l)ungaiow gives out, capital air, nice country to walk over, and not a soul to speak to but our two selves! " "Oh!" said Helen. ''It sounds very nice, dear " And so they agreed. It was an excellent dak-bungalow without doubt, quite a wonder in dak-bungalows. It was new, for one thing — they are not generally new — and clean, they are not generally clean. There had been no deserted palace or disused tomb for the l'ov- ernment to utilize at Tatapore, so they had been obliged to build this dak-bungalow, and they built it very well. It had ajjukka* roof instead of a thatched one, which was less comfortable for the karaits but pleasanter to sleep under ; aiul its Widls were straight and high, well raised from the ground, and newly white- washed. Inside it was divided into three pairs of rooms, one in the middle and one at each end. You stepped into one of your rooms on the north side of the house and out of the other on the south side, upon your share of the south veranda. The ar- rangement was very simple, each pair of rooms was separate and independent, and had nothing to say to any other. The furniture was simple too, its sim})licity left nothing to ho desired. There were charpoysf to sleep on, travellers brought tlioir own bedding. In one room there were two chairs and a table, in the other a table and two chairs. There was nothiiiir on the floor and nothing on the walls. There was ample accom- modation for the air of Patapore, and no other attraction tointer- * Made of brick and mortar. 4 f Native beds. 42 THE SIMPLE ADl'EXTVKES OE A MEM SAL' IB. fere with it. I don't know whctlier we have any ri eye to see, tlieir wishes liad been anticipated, tlieir orders luid been carried out in the night, as it seemed. "Let's liavG 'em up!" suggested Mr. Browne, witli reference to the mysterious agents of all this circumstance. Helen wanted to see her servants. " Bear-cr .' " shouted the sahib, young Browne. " Ilazur ! " * came the answer, in deep tones, from regions be- low, with a sound of bare feet hastily ascending the stair. '"'' Hazur bulya?'''' \ en(juired the bearer in a subdued voice, partially jjresenting himself at the door. " Ha ! " said young Brown, " Del-ko^ \ bearer ! You may sub nokar lao. Sumja 9 Memsaheb dekna inuncta ! " * " lUthiit atcha .'" || responded the bearer, and retired. Helen sat up very straight, a little nervous air of apprehen- sion mingled with her dignity. It had been no flippant business in her experience, to interview even a prosj)ective under-house- mjiid, and presently she would be confronted by a whole retinue. " Whv are thev so long ? " she asked. " They're putting on their clean clothes, and perhaps a little oil in your honour, my dear. They wish to make as radiant an appearance as possible." And in a few minutes later the Brownes' domestic staff folhnved its leader into the room, where it stood abashed, hands hanging down, looking at the floor. The bearer made a respectful showman's gesture and awaited the pleasure of the sahib. * Yoiu- honour. X I-'^f'k ! f Your honour called. || Very jjood. * Bring all the servants. Do you understand ? The nienisahib wants to see them. ap- 70 THE SIMPLE AnVEXrrRES OE A MEMSA///B. The sahib regarded them quizzieally, and softly smoked on, with crossed legs. " Dear me ! " said J[elen ; " what a lot ! " " They are people of inllnite leisure, my dear. The aecom- })lishment of any one thing re({uires a great many of them. Above all it is neeessary that they have peace and long hours to slee}), and an uninterrupted {)eriod in whicth to cook their rice and wash and anoint tliemselves. Vou will soon find out their little ways. Now let me ex]»lain. T'liey don't understand a word of Knglish. "The bearer you know. The bearer brought all the rest and is resjjonsihle for them. I have no doubt that he is in honoured receipt of at least half their first month's wages for securing their situations for them, lie is their superior ofilcer, and is a person of weight and influence among them, and he's a very intelligent man. I've had him four vears. In that time he has looked after me very well, I consider, very well indeed. lie knows all about my clothes and keeps them tidy — buys a good many of 'em — socks and ties and things, — takes care of my room, rubs me down every evening before dinner, — keeps my money." " Keeps your moneij^ George ! " " Oh, yes ! one cun't be bothered with money in this country." " Well ! " said his wife. " I think it's quite time you were married, (Jeorge. Go on ! " George said something irrelevantly foolish and went on. " lie's perfectly honest, my dear — entirely so. It would be altogether beneath his dignity to misap])ropriate. And I've al- ways found him moderate in his overcharges. I took him partly because he had good chits and good manners, and partly because of his ingenuousness. I wanted a man for nine rupees — this THE SI MP IE ADl'EXTURES OF A MEMSAlllH. ,r " chaj) stood out for ten. Hv way of argument ho remarked that he would probably be purcliasing a great numy things for the sahib in tlio bazar — tluit the saliib might as well give ten in the llrst place ! I thought there was a logical acumen about that that one didn't come across every day, and engaged him on the spot." " But, Cieorge — it's — it's almost immoral I " " Very, my dear ! But you'll lind it saves a lot of trouble." Helen compressed her pretty lips in a way that spoke of a stern determination to adhere to the })rin('iples in vogue in (,'anbury. "And I wouldn't advise you to interfere with him too much, Helen, or he'll ])ray to be allowed to go to his inuUuk* and we shall lose a good servant. Of course, I'm obliged to jump down his throat once a month or so — they all need that — but I con- sider him a gentleman, and I never hurt his feelings. You ob- serve the size of his turban, and the dignity of his bearing gener- ally? Well, so much for tluf bearer — he gets ten rupees." "I've put it down, Cieorge." "Now the kitmutgar — he's another old servant of mine — the gentlenuiu who has just salaamed to you. You see by his dress that he's a ^lussulman. No self-respecting Hindu, as you've read in books of travel which occasionally contain a truth — will wait on you at table. Observe his nether garments how they differ from the bearer's. The B. you see wears a dhoty." " A kind of twisted sheet," remarked Helen. " Precisely. And this man a regular divided skirt. The thing he wears on his head is not a dinner plate covered with white cotton, as one naturally imagines, but another form of Mussulman millinery — I'm sure I don't know what. But you're Own country. :, 72 '^'^^^'' •'>■/.'//'/./: .Uyi'EXTUA'KS Of A MEMSAUlfi. never to let him aj)i)oar in your prcscni'o witliout it. It would be rank disroapoct. "lie is also an ol(i servant," Mr. Browne went on, " because servants do get old in the course of time if one doesn't get rid of them, and I've given \\\^ trying to get rid of this one. He's a regular old granny, as you can see from his face; he's infuriat- ingly incomi)etent — always ])oking things at a man that a num doesn't want when a man's got a liver. Hut he doesn't understand being told to go. 1 dismissed him every day for a week last hot weather: he didn't allow it to interfere with liim in the least — turned up behind my chair next morning as regularly as ever — cho.se to regard it as a jilea.santry of the sahib's. "\\'hen I went to England, to get engaged to you, my dear, I told him I desired never to look upon his face again. It was the first one I saw wlien tlie ship reached the 1*. and (). jetty. Ami there avus a smile on it! What could I do! And that very night he shot me in the shirt-front with a soda-water bottle. I hand him over to vou, mv dear — vou'll find he'll stay." " I like him," .said ^Irs. Browne, "• and I think his conduct has been very devoted, Cleorge. And he doesn't cheat?" " lie has no particular oj)portunity. Now for the cook. This is the cook, T take it. You sec he wears nothing on his head but his hair, and that's cut short. Also he wears his jtar- ticular strip of nnislin dra})ed about his shoulders, toga-wi.se. Also he is of a dilTerent cast of countenance, broader, higher cheek-bones, more benevolent. Kemotely he's got a strain of Chinese blood in him — he's j)robably Moog from C'hittagong." " Turn hawarchi Iiai, eh ? " * " Uce-ha ! " f * Vou arc the cook f f Worthy one, yes. TifF siyrrr.E AnvExrrKEs or a MEM^^Aiim. 71 30C)k. his liar- wise. ij^licr ill of " Turn Mooy hair''' " (h'e-hn ! " " " He is, you see. Most of the cooks are, Jiiul nil of them pre- tend to be. " Turn sub r/ierticjiiniu, eh^ bairarrhi !'''' f '■'' (iee-hit^ liiizur! Hum ittrlid issuup .suntjn — uicha sTtlish sHHiJ((y (ttchd vepudin sunija — subchvese k'haua kuwasti te/cc nutu- ja ! Chittie hai huzury X " He says he's a treasure, my dear, but tiuit's a modest state- ment thev all make. And he wishes to show vou his chits; will you eoiulescend to look at them ? " " What are his chits':'" Helen incjuired. " His certificates from other j)eo})le whose digestions he has ruined fiom time to time. Let's see — ' Kali Hagh, cook ' — that's his name a})i)arently, but you needn't remember it, he'll always answer to ' Bawarchi ! ' — ' has been in my service eighteen months, and has generally given satisfaction. He is as clean as any I have ever had, fairly honest, and not inclined to be wasteful. He is dismissed for no fault, but because I am leaving India.' H'm I I don't think much of chits ! This one probably ought to read, ' He doesn't get drunk often, but he's lazy, unpunctual, and beats his wife. He has cooked for me eighteen months, because I have been too weak-miiuled to dismiss him. He now goes by force of circumstances ! ' But it's not a bad chit." " I doTi't consider it a very good one," said Helen. " As clean as any I have ever had ! " " That's his profoundest recommendati(m, my dear ! He probably does not make toast with his toes. I * You are a Moogf f You know evorythinpf X I know good soup, good sidcdishos, good puddings. Everything for dinner T know well. Here are recommendations, your honour. 6 n THE SIMPLE A DV EX TV RES OF A MEMSAIIIB. I'' I i ! " People are utterly devoid of scruple about chits," Mr. Browne went on, running over the dirty envelopes and long- folded half-sheets of letter-paper. " I've known men, who wouldn't tell a lie uiuler any other circumstances to — to save tlieir souls, calmly sit down and write fervent recommendations of the mo.^'t wh()})ping blackguards, in the joyful moment of their deliverance, over their own names, i)erfectly regardless of the im- moralitv of the thing. It's a curious exam])le of the wav the natives' desire to be obliging at anv cost comes otf on us. Now here's a memsahib who ought to be ashamed of herself — ' Kali Bagh is a caj)ital cook, llis entrees are delicious, and he always sends uj) a joint done to perfection. His puddings are perhaps his best })oint, but his vegetables are quite French. I can thorouarted in single lile. * Voii may go. 8o THE SIMPLE APVEXTUKES OE J MEMSAlllli. " But George," ssiirl Helen, *' tliey come, witli my ayah at eleven, to eighty-live rupees a niontii I Almost seven pounds ! 1 thougiit servants were ciieap in India ! " "No, dear, they're not; at least, not in Calcutta. And these are thn very least we can have to be at all comfortable." Tlie two Brownes looked at each other with a sligiit shade of domestic anxiety. This was dispelled by the foolish old con- sideration of liow little anything really mattered, now that they were one Browne, and presently they were disporting themselves behind the pony on the Maidan, leaving the cares of their house- hold to those who were most concerned in tliem. T THE SIMPLE ADlEXn KES Ol- A Ml.MSAIIlli. Si CIIAPTKK VIII. A WEEK later Hclon took over the aeoounts. In tlie mean- -^^ time she liad learned to eouiit rupees and annas, jti and pice, also a few words of that tongue in which orders are given in Calcutta, She arose on the seventh morning of her tenure of ortlce rigidly determined that the ollice should no longer he a sinecure. She would drop curiosity and pleasure, and assume discii)line, righteousness antl understanding. She would make a stand. She would deal justly, but she would make a stand. It would be after George had gone to oflice. When ho came home, tired with tea affairs, he would not be compelled to rack his brain further with the day's marketing. He would see that the lady he had made Mrs. Hrowne was capable of more than driving about in a tum-tum and writing enthusiastic letters home about the beauties of Calcutta. George went to oflRce. The kitmntgar softly removed the blue and white breakfast things. Outsid the door, in the " bot- tle khana," the mussalchi, squatting, washed them in an earthen bowl with a mop-stick. It occurred to Helen that she might as well begin by going to look at the mussalchi, and she did. She looked at him with a somewhat severe ex]»ression, thereby caus- ing him dismay and terror. She walked all round the mussalchi, but found nothing about him to criticise. " Rut, probably," thought she, as she went back to the dining-room, " my looking at him had its moral eflfect." Then she sent for the cook. tto 82 THE SIMPLE ADVEXTi-RES OE A Af EM SAHIB. The oook urrivcd with an expression of deep solemnity, tem- pered by all the amiable ({ualities you can think of. lie iield in his hand an extremely dirty ])ieeo of j)aper, covered with strange characters in Xagri — how little anybody would have thought, when they were designed in the dawn of the world, that they would ever be used to indicate the items of an Knglishnuiirs din- ner ! The cook put a pair of spectacles on to read them, which completed the anomaly, and nuide him look more IxMievolent than ever. "Well, bawarchi," said Helen, ready with pencil and note book, " account hai 'i " " (Jee-ha, hai ! " responded he. Then after a respectful pause, "S'in-beef," he sjiid, '-'- vhar anna.'''' "Shin beef," rei)eated Helen, with satisfaction, " four annas. Yes?" " Fiss — che * anna. Hress mutton — egrupee, che anna. Eggis — satrah — aht f anna." ''Seventeen eggs, bawarchi? When did we eat seventeen eggs? How did we eat seventeen eggs yesterday?" Mrs. Jirowne s])()ke impulsively, in Knglish, but Kali Bagh seemed to understand, and with an unrullled front proceeded to account circumstantially for every o^^^. II is mistress was helpless, lint, " to-morrow," thought she earnestly, " I will see whether he {)uts four in the sou]) ! " The cook went on to state that since yesterday the Browne family liad consumed three seers of potatoes— six pounds— at two aniuis a seer, which would l)e six annas. " And I don't believe that, either," mentally ejaculated ^h"s. Browne, but Kidi Ba-^i continued without flinching. He chronicled salt, pepper, sauce, * Six. f Eight. T i 1 i T Till: SIMPI.E ADriiNTURFS OF .1 M F.MSA II f H. «3 t su^ar, ho niontioncd rice, dlial, " ^'anlcu-isspioo," " guiivu isstow," "k'rats,"* "kiss-miss,"f " niuida,"! and oiioiinh '' mukkaii"** to liavc suinilicd a eliarity-scliool. llclcii was amazed to (iiid tlu; nmnlH'r of culinary articles whicli undeniably ini;,'lit have been used in tiie course of twenty-four hours — she did not consider tlio lon<^ calm eveiiin^^ that went to meditation over the list. When it was finished she found that the day's expenses in food had been exactly eifjht rupees six annas, or about eleven shillings. Helen had had a thrifty education, and she knew this was absurd. She turned to the llai^M'ant e<^gs and to the unblushin<; potatoes, and she made a calculation. " Hawarchi I " said she, " Potatoes — four annas. Kggs — five annas, (htijar || " Bahut atcha I " said the co(jk, without remonstrance. lie still had twenty-liv(; per cent of profit. Helen observed, and was encourasi^ed. She summoned up her sternest look, and drew her pencil through the total. "Might rupees," she renuirkcd with simplicity, "• daga na. Five rupees daga," aiul she closed the book. Kali liagh looked at her with an expression of understiinding, mingled with disai»pointment. He did not ex])ect all he asked, but he expected more than he got. As it was, his ])rofit amounted only to two ruiu-es, not much for a ])oor man with a family. But in after days, when his memsahib grew in general sagacity and })articular knowledge of the bazar. Kali Bagh had reason to look back regretfully to those two rupees as to the brief passing of a golden age. ' i will now go dowji," said Mrs. Browne with enthusiasm, "and look at his pots." 1 I * Carrols. f Haisiiis. X Flour. « liuttor. II I will give 84 I'll I- S/MP/JC ADl'KXTL'KKS OJ- A MEMSAllHi. Tho compound, as slu' crossed it, was full of the eterv'al sun- light of India, the gay shrill gossip of the niynas, the hv>arse ejaeulations of the erows. A flashy little green parrot Hew out of a hibiscus bush by the wall in full crimson llower; lie belonged to tlie jungle. But a pair of grey })igeons cooed to each (jther over the building of their nest in the cornice of a pillar of the Brownes' upj)er veranda. They had come to stay, and they spoke of the advantages of co-operative housekeeping with an- other young couple like themselves, knowing it to be on a safe and permanent basis. The garden was all freshly scratched and tidy ; there was a pleasant smell of earth ; the mallie, under a })i- pal tree, gathered up its broad dry fallen leaves to cook his rice with. It was a graphic bit of economy, so pleasantly close to nature that its poetry was plain. " We are the only people who are extravagant in India," thought Helen, as she regarded the mallie, and in this reflection I venture to say that slie was quite correct. The door of the hnwarchi khana* was open — it was never shut. I am not sure, indeed, that there was a door. Tliere were certainly no windows. It is possible that the bawarchi khana was seven feet square, and its mistress was just able to stand up straight in it with a few inches to spare. It contained a shelf, a table, and a stove. When Kali Bagh sat down he used his heels. The shelf and the table were full of the oil and condiments dear to the heart of every bawarchi. The stove was an erection like a tene- ment house, built with what was left over from the walls, and artis- tically coloured pink to be like them. It contained various hol- lows on the top, in one or two of which charcoal was glowing — beyond this I cannot explain its construction to be plain to un- * Cook-house. f THE SlMri.l: An\i:.\TlNl:S 01- A Ml.MSAlllH. S5 . ■ (lerstiln(li^<,^s accu.stonu'd to tlic kitclicii ran^^cs of Clirlstimiity and civilisaiioii. Hut nothing? ovt'r went wnm;; with Kali ItajjITs stove, tlu' boiler lU'VtT leaked, the hot water pipes never hurst, the oven never recpiired relinin<;, the dampers never had to he ro- re^nilated. lie was its presiding <^'enius, he worked it with a ])alin leaf fan, and nothing would induee hitn to lo<(k at a modern improvement. Kali Uagh was a eonservative institution himself, his reeii)es were an heritage, he was the living representative; of an immemorial dnslur.* Why should Kali Hagh alUict himself with the ways of the memsahih! 'IMie bawarehi khaiui had another door, opening into u rather smaller apartment, otherwise lightless aiul airless, whieh eon- tained Kali Hagh's wardrobe and bed. The wardrobe was ele- mentary and hung upon a single peg, tlie bed consisted of four short legs and a piece of matting. Kali Hagh had rei)osed him- self on it, and was already siu)ring, when Mrs. Browne came in. He had divested himself of his chuddar and his spectacles, and looked less of a j)hiloso[)her and more of an Aryan. Mrs. lirowne made a rude clatter among the pans, winch brought him to a sense of her disturbing presence. Presently she observed hi^n standing behind her, looking anxious, llis mistress sniffed about intrepidly. She lifted saucepan lids and discovered within re- mains of concoctions three davs old ; she found the dav's milk in an erstwhile kerosene tin; she lifted a kettle and intruded upon the privacy of a large family of cockroaches, any one of them as big as a five-shilling piece. Kali Hagh would never have dis- turbed them. She fouiul messes and mixtures and herbs and spices and sauces which she did not understand and could not approve. The day's marketing lay in a flat basket under the * Custom. 86 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. (P* table. Helen drew it fortli and discovered a live pigeon indiscrim- inately near the mutton with its wings twisted around one an- other at the joint, while from beneath a dtbris of potatoes, beans and caulillower, came a feeble and plaintive " Quack ! " " What is tills V " said Mrs. Browne with paler and sterner criticism, looking into a pot that was bubbling on the fire. " Chanl hai., memsahib ! llamura khana .' " * 1^ "Your, dinner, bawarehi I All that riceV" And, indeed, therein was no justification for Kali I^agli. It was not only his dinner, but the dinner of the sweeper and of the syce and of the mussalchi, to be su])pli'!d to them a trifle below current market rates, and Mrs. Browne had j)aid for it all that morning. ; Helen found herself confronted with her little domestic corner of the great problem of India —the natives' "way." But she had no language with which io circumvent it or remonstrate with it. 8he C' .r.d only decide that Kali Bagh was an eminently proper subjev^c for discipline, and resolve to tell George, which was not much of an expedient. It is exactly ^ lat we all do in India, however, under the circumstances. Wo tell our superior otH- cers, until at last the (^ueen Empress herself is told ; and the Queen-Empress is quite as incapable of further procedure as Mrs. Browne ; indeed, much more so, for she is compelled to listen to v the voice of her parliamentary wi'angling-machine upon the mat- ter, wdiich obeys the turning of a handle, and is a very fine piece of mechanism indeed, but not absolutely reliable when it delivers ready-made o})inions upon Aryan problems. At least I am quite sure that is my husband's idea, and I have often heard young Browne say the same thing. There was a scattering to right and left when Helen reap- * It is rice, memsahib ; my dinner. WHAT IS THIS?" SAID MRS. BROWNE, WITH PALER AND STERNER CRITICISM. 88 THE SlAfP/.K ADVEXTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. ' peared in the compound. Her domestics were not dressed to re- ceive her, and they ran this way and that, noiselessly like cock- roaches to their respective holes. There seemed to be a great many of them, more by at least half-a-dozen than were properly accredited to the house ; and Helen was afterwards informed that they were the hliai * of the other servants, representing a fraction of the great unemployed of Asia, who came daily for fraternal gossip in the sun and any patronage that might be going. They were a nuisance, these bhai, and were soon sternly put down by the arm of the law and the edict of the sahib, who enacted that no strange native should be allowed to enter the compound with- out a chit. " It's the only way to convince them," said he, " that the Maidan is the best place for 2)ublic meetings." The quarters of the syce and the pony were the only ones that invited further inspection. The same roof sheltered both of these creatures of service, a thatched one ; but between them a primi- tive partition went half way up. On one side of this the pony was tethered and enjoyed the luxuries of his dependence, on the other the syce lived in freedom, but did not fare so well. The pony's expenses were quite five times as heavy. His food cost more, his clothes cost more, his medical attendance cost more, to say nothing of his requiring a valet. He was much the more valuable animal of the two, though the other is popularly be- ! lieved in England to have a soul. His wants were even more ' elaborately supplied than the syce's — he had a trough to feed from, and a pail to drink out of, a fresh bed every night, a box for his grain, and a curry-comb for his skin ; while the syce's do- mestic arrangements consisted of an earthenware pot, a wooden stick, and a rickety charpoy. When he was cold he borrowed !■ It 1; * Caste-brothers. f' THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAHTB. 89 I r the pony's blanket, and I never heard of any toilet articles in connection with him. The accommodation was not equally divided between him and the pony, either. The pony had at least twice as much, and it was in better repair. The pony looked much askance at Helen. He was accus- tomed only to the race of his dark-skinned servitor. The sahib with his white face and strange talk he associated with the whip and being made to pull an objectionable construction upon wheels from which he could not get away ; but a memsahib might be something of inconceivable terror — her petticoats looked like it. Therefore the pony withdrew himself into a re- mote corner of his stable, where he stood looking ineffably silly, and declined to be seduced by split pieces of sugar-cane or wheed- ling words. " Gorah atclia liai ? " * asked Helen, and was assured that he was very " atcha," that his grain he ate, his grass he ate, hid water h^ ate, and ^^cubbi koocli na bolta " " he never said any- thing whatever," which was the final proof of his flourishing condition. It was getting a little discouraging, but Helen thought that before retreating she might at least inspect the bearer's cow, a cow being a gentle domestic animal, of uniform habits, all the world over. One's own cow is a thorn in the flesh and a source of ruin, in India. She declines to give milk, except to the out- side world at so much a seer,f she devours abnormal quantities of food, she is neglected and becomes depraved, being nobody's par- ticular business. But it is impossible to draw lacteal supplies from an unknown source in India. It is paying a large price for cholera bacilli, which is absurd, since one can get them almost * Is the horse well f 7 f Two pounds. 1 90 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A ME ^I SAHIB. ' anywhere for nothing. To say nothing of the depravity of the milk-wallah,* who strains his commodity through his dhoty, and replenishes his cans from the first stagnant tank he comes to. The wise and advisable thing is to permit the bearer, as a gracious favour, to keep a cow on the premises and to supply the family at current rates. It is a source of income to him, and of confidence to you, while the cow does her whole duty in that clean and comfortable state whereto she is called. The bearer, too, is honoured and dignified by the possession of the sacred animal. He performs every office for her himself, though he would scorn to bring a pail of water to a horse, and he is happy to live in the odour of her sanctity. Helen discovered the cow of their establishment tied with her calf outside the best " go- down "in the compound — the largest and cleanest — which she occupied at night. The bearer himself had not nearly such good quarters, and this was of his own dispensation. She wore a string of blue beads around her horns, and munched contentedly at a large illegal breakfast of straw which had been bought and paid for to supply the pony's bed. " Poor cooey ! " said Helen, advancing to attempt a familiar- ity, but the cow put down her head and made such a violent lunge at her that she beat a hasty and undignified retreat. This was partly on account of the calf, which stood a little way off, but well within the maternal vision, and it was quite an unrea- sonable demonstration, as the calf was stuffed, and put there to act upon the cow's imagination only. This is a necessary ex- pedient to ensure milk in India from a cow that has no calf of her own ; it is a painful imposition, but uniformly successful. The fact is one of reputation, as being the only one invariably ! * Man. 2?r THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIUB. 91 rejected by travellers as a lively lie, whereas they are known to swallow greedily much larger fictions than stuffed calves. From an upper window, shortly after, Helen saw the cow's morning toilet being performed by the bearer. And it was an instructive sight to see this solemn functionary holding at arm's length the utmost end of her tail, and with art and precision im- proving its appearance. In the cool of the evening after dinner, the two Brownes sat together in the shadow of the pillars of their upper veranda, and Helen told the story of her adventure in the compound. Overhead the pigeons cooed of their day's doings, the pony neighed from his stable in the expectation of his content. A light wind stirred the palms where they stood against the stars, the smoke of the mallie's pipal leaves curled up faintly from his roof where he dwelt beside the gate. Below, in the black shadow of the godowns, easeful figures sat or moved, the subdued tones of their parley hardly came to the upper veranda. They had rice and rest and the comfortable hubble-bubble. And the sahib and the memsahib devised how they might circumvent these humble people in all their unlawful doings, till the air grew chill with the dew, and the young moon showed over their neighbour's tamarind tree. 02 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. h 1 CHAPTER IX. MRS. BROWNE'S ayah was a little Mussulman woman of about thirty-five, with bright eyes and an expression of great worldly wisdom upon her small, square, high-boned face. She dressed somewhat variously, but her official garments were a short jacket and a striped cotton petticoat, a string of beads round her neck, silver bangles on her arms and ankles, hoops in her ears, and a small gold button in her right nostril. This last bit of coquetry affected Helen uncomfortably for some time. Her name was Chua, signifying " a rat," and her heathen spon- sors showed rather a fine discrimination in giving it to her. She was very like one. It would be easy to fancy her nibbling in the dark, or making unwarrantable investigations when honest peo- ple were asleep. When Chua was engaged and questioned upon the subject of remuneration, she salaamed very humbly, and said, " What the memsahib pleases," which was ten rupees. At this Chua's countecance fell, for most of the ayahs of her acquaint- ance received twelve. Accepting the fact, however, that her mis- tress was not a " burra memsahib " * from whom much might be expected, but a " chota memsahib " f from whom little could be extracted, she went away content, and spread her mat in the women's place in the mosque and bowed many times to the west as the sun went down, and paid at least four annas to the moulviX who had helped her to this good fortune. * Great memsahib. f Little memsahib. t Priest. r JT a »< 77/A SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAJUB. 03 Cluiii abode in lier own house, as is the custom of avahs witli family ties. She was married — her husband was a kitmutgar. They lived in a bustee in the very middle of Calcutta, where dwelt several other kitmutgars and their wives, a dhobv and a number of goats, and Chua walked out every morning to her work. Then home at twelve to cook her food and sleep, then back at four for further duty until after dinner. She never breakfasted before starting in the morning, but she carried with her always a small square tin box from which she refreshed her- self surreptitiously at intervals. Inside tlie box was only a rolled - up betel leaf, and inside the leaf a dab of white paste ; but it was to Chua what the hubble-bubble was to Abdul, her husband, a great and comfortable source of meditation upon the goodness of Allah, and the easiest form of extortion to be practised upon her lawful taskmistress. Helen found great difficulty at first in assimilating this hand- maid into her daily life. She had been told that an ayah was indispensable, and she could accept Chua as a necessary append- age to the lofty state of her Oriental existence, but to find occu- pation for her became rather a burden to the mind of Mrs. Browne. Things to do were precious, she could not spare them to be done by anybody else, even at ten rupees a month with the alternative of improper idleness. Moreover, the situation was in some re- spects embarrassing. One could have one's ribbons straightened and one's hair brushed with equanimity, but when it came to the bathing of one's feet and the putting on of one's stockings Helen was disposed to dispense with the services of her ayah as verging on the indelicate. Chua was still more grieved when her mis- tress utterly declined to allow herself to be " punched and prod- ded," as she expressed it, in the process of gentle massaging in which the ayah species are proficient. Mrs. Browne was young li J^^ / ^ THE SI MP IE ADIEXTLNES OE A MEMSAIIIH. gr then, ami a new rointM*, and not of a disposition to brook any interference witii lier muscular tissues. But the other day she particularly recommended an ayah to me on account of this accomplisliment. This to illustrate, of course, not the degenera- tion of Mrs. Browne's sense of ])roi)riety, but of her muscular tissues. The comprehension and precise knowledge which ('hua at once obtained of her mistress's wardrobe and effects was wonder- ful in its way. She knew the exact contents of every box and drawer and wardrobe, the number of pen-nibs in the writing-case, the number of spools in the workbasket. Helen used to feel, in the shock of some disclosure of observation extraordinary, as if the omniscient little wonum had made an index of her mistress's emotions and ideas as well, and could lay her snuUl skinny brown finger upon any one of them, wliich intuition was verv far from being wrong. Clnia early induced an admiring confidence in her rectitude by begging .A[rs. Browne to make a list of all her possessions so that from time to time she could demonstrate their safety. The ayah felt herself responsible. She knew that upon the provocation of a missing embroidered petticoat there might be unpleasant results connected with the police-wallah and the thana* not onlv for her but for the whole establishment, and she wished to be in a secure position to give evidence, if neces- sary, against somebody else. It could certainly not be Chua, therefore, Helen announced, when she communicated to her lord at the breakfast table the fact that her very best scissors had been missing for three days. " Isn't it tedious ? " said she. " Scissors," said young Browne. " Yes, good new shiny sharp ones, weren't they, with Rodgers' name plainly stamped on them — and rather small ? " ♦ Police office. 96 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAH/B. '• All that," lamented Helen, " and embroidery size — such loves I " " You are gradually coming within the operation of custom, my dear. Steel is the weakness of the Aryan. He — in this case she — will respect your clothes, take care of your money, and guard your jew- ellery — they all have a gen- eral sense of property in its correct relation, but it does not apply to a small pair of scissors or a neat pocket knife. Such things seem /■•^^mm^^^m^^^ m: \ ^^ yield to some superior \-^^^BK^Km^^^^g\xA attraction outside the moral sense connected with these people, and they invariably disappear. It's inveterate, but it's a nuisance. One has to make such a row." " George," said Helen gravely, " why do you say in this case she ? " "I think you'll find it was your virtuous maid, my dear. It wasn't the bearer — he has permitted me to keep the same knife and nail scissors now for two years and a half, and the rest of the servants, all but the ayah, are the bearer's creatures, and will reflect exactly his morality in quality and degree. She isn't — AN ACCIDENT DISCLOSED THEM AT THE BOTTOM OF AN IMPOSSIBLE VASE. f THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES 01- A MEMSAllIH. 97 she's an irresponsible functionary, except to you ; you'll have to keep an eye on her. However, if we make ourselves patiently and unremittingly disagreeable for a week or two they'll turn up." " I liaven't the Hindustani to be disagreeable in," Helen re- marked. " Oil, you needn't be violent ; just inquire at least three times a day, ' Iluniara kinrhi, kidder yia?^* and look forbidding the rest of the time. Never dream for a moment they're stolen or admit they're lost. It's a kind of worry she won't be able to stand — she'll never know what you're going to do. And she'll con- clude it's cheaper in the end to restore them." I don't know whether the Browncs made themselves as disa- greeable as they might about the kinchi, but it was a long time be- fore they were restored. Then an accident disclosed them at the bottom of an impossible vase. Chua, standing by, went through an extravaganza of gratification. Her eyes shone, she laughed and clasped her hands with dramatic effect. " Eyyi hat " f— would the memsahib inform the sahib and also the bearer that they had been found ?— the latter evidently having resorted lately to some nefarious means of extracting from her what she had done with them. Chua had doubtless had an uncomfortable quarter of an hour before her mistress discovered them, and felt unjustly served in it. For the theft was only a prospective one, to be accomplished in the course of time, if it looked advisable. It did not look advisable and Chua reconsidered it, thereby leav- ing her Mohammedan conscience void of offence. As soon as she was able to understand and be understood, Helen thought it her duty to make some kindly enquiries about Chua's domestic affairs. Had she, for instance, any children ? * My scissors, where have they gone f t One word. 98 THE SIMPLE ADVEiVTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. "jVc/, memmliih r'' she respondeu, with a look, of assumed contempt tliat could not have sat more emphatically upon the face of any fin de siede lady who does not believe in babies. '■''Baba hai 7ia ! Baha na muncta^'* * she went on with a large curl of the lip, "Baba all time cry kurta\ — Waow I Waow ! aicha na., \ memsahib ! " " Oh na, ayah ! Baba atcha hai," laugiied Helen, defending the sacred est tlicory of her sex. Chua took an attitude of self-effacement, but her reply had a patronising dignity, " Memsahib kanutdl baba atcha hai,''^ said she. " Memsahib kawasti kooch kam hai na ! Ayah ka kam hai ! Tub baba atcha na — kooch na miincta ! " ^ Chua occupied quite the modern ground, which was exhila- rating in an Oriental, and doubtless testified to the march of truth — that babies were only practicable and advisable when their possible mothers could find nothing better to do. Helen was impressed, and more deeply so when she presently discovered that Chua and Abdul, her husband, lived in different houses in the bustee I have mentioned — different huts, that is, mud-baked and red-tiled and leaking, and offering equal facilities for the intrusion of the ubiquitous goat. Chua spoke of Abdul with an angry flash of contempt. In accommodating himself to circum- stances recently, Abdul had offended her very deeply. It was on an occasion when Chua had accompanied a memsahib to England with the usual infant charge. She was very sick, she earned a hundred and fifty rupees, she was away three months — '•''kali tin mahina^^ memsahib!" and when she returned she * I do not want bal)ies. f Makes crying. % Xot good. * For the memsahib babies are good. The memsahib has no work to do. The ayah has work. Then babies are not good, she does not want any! || Only three months. rilE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 99 found Abdul mated to iinotlier. She was artful, was Chua — her mistress's face expressed such a degree of disapprobation that she fancied herself implicated, and instantly laughed to throw a triviality over Abdul's misconduct. It was a girl he married, a mere child '■'■ baba kamujik^* memsahib " — fourteen years old. But her scorn came tiirough the mask of her amusement when she went on to state that the house of Abdul was no longer with- out its olive branch, but that Abdul's sahib had gone away and there was very little rice for anybody in that family. The recre- ant had come to her in his extremity, asking alms, she said with her curled lip. " liupia do-u ! " f she whined, holding out her liand and imitating his suppliauce with intensest irony. Then drawing herself up proudly she rehearsed her answer brief, con- temptuous, and to the point. " Dmja na !—Jao ! " X She had invested the proceeds of her journey over tlie " black water " in a ticca-gharry which lent itself all day long to the Calcutta public under her administration and to her profit. \ The day after Helen had been thus edified, the ayali did not ap- \ pear until the afternoon. She had been to law about some i)oint in relation to the ticca-gharry. I can't remember what Mrs. Browne said it was — but she wanted an advance of wages for her legal expenses. She intended to spare nothing to be triumphant — her adversary had trusted his case to a common vakeel., * she would have a gorah-vakeel, \\ though they came higher. Her witnesses would be properly paid too — a rupee apiece, and eight annas extra for any necessary falsification at present unexpected. The next afternoon she came late, with a tale of undeserved dis- aster which she lucubrated with indignant tears, after the man- * Like a baby. 1: T will not give ! Go! || Literally, horse-lawyer, t Ten rupees. * Lawyer. lOo THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. ner of her sex. It was not that the magistrate sahib was not fair, he was just as the sun at noon, or that Kahim the gharry- walhih liad more witnesses than she — indeed, being a poor man, he had only four — but they were four of the five, unhappily, whose services she, had engaged. The gharry- wallah had offered them two rupees — a higher bid — and so they spoke jute hat* But he would never be able to pay ! Oh, it was very cantb ! f and Chua sat in the dust and wrapped her face in her sari I and wept again. Later, she informed her mistress that it was pos- sible she might again be absent to-morrow — it was possible that she might come into contact that evening in the street with these defaulting witnesses — violent contact. It was possible that if they laughed at her she would strike them, and then — with an intensely observing eye always upon Helen — then her memsahib, in the event of her being carried off to the tliaua 1 ij for assault, would of course enquire " Ilamara ayah, kidder hai?''^^ and immediately take proceedings to get her out. Chua's countenance fell, though with instant submission, when Helen informed her sternly that she would on no account insti- tute such proceedings, and she was deprived even of illegal means of satisfaction, taken with impunity. It was Chua's aptitude for assault that led to her final expul- sion from the service of the Brownes and from the pages of these annals. Her manner toward the bearer had been pro- :« pitiatory from the beginning. She called him " Sirdar," || she paid him florid Oriental compliments ; by the effacement of her own status and personality she tried to establish a friendly un- derstanding with him. She undertook small services on his behalf. She attempted to owe him allegiance as the other serv- * False talk. % Head cloth. || Head bearer. f Bad. * My ayah, where is she f W» THE SIMPLE ADVE.yrURES OF A MEM SAHIB. \o\ ants did. It is impossible to say that she did not press upon him a percentage of lier tidab., to ensure his omnipotent good will. But Kasi was for some dark reason unreciprocal — young Browne believed he thought she was storming his affections — and at best consented only to preserve an armed neutrality. Whereat Chua became resentful and angry, carried her head high, and exchanged remarks with Kasi which were not in the nature of amenities. The crisis came one afternoon when the Brownes were out. " I have something to tell you after dinner," said Mrs. Browne significantly later, across the joint. " And I have something to tell you^'' youug Browne re- sponded with equal meaning, Mrs. Browne had the first word, in order, her husband said, that she shouldn't have the last. She explained that she had found the ayah in tears, quite extinguished upon the floor, the cause being insult. Chua had forgotten at noon the little bright shawl which she wrapped about her head in the streets — had left it upon the memsahib's veranda. Seeing it, the bearer had done a deadly thing. He had not touched it himself, but he had sent for the sweeper — the sweeper ! — and bade \\\x\\ fenk-do * it to his own unclean place of living. And there, after much search, had Chua found it. Therefore was she deeply abased, and therefore did she tender her resignation. The bearer had behaved Rajali kamajik ! f and had, moreover, spoken to her in bat that was carah., very carah. " Yes," said the sahib, judicially, " and the bearer came to me also weeping with joined hands to supplicate. His tale of woe is a little different. He declares he never saw the shawl * Throw. f Like a lord 1 ! I : 102 ^'^^ SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. and never gave the order — I've no doubt he did both — but that the sweeper acted upon his own responsibility. And what do you think the ayah did in revenge? She slippered him! — all round the compound ! The bearer, poor chap, fled in disorder, but couldn't escape. He has undoubtedly been slippered. And in the presence of the whole compound ! It's worse — infinitely worse — than having his puggri * knocked off in ribaldry. And now he says that though he has served me faithfully all these years, and I am his father and his mother, his honour has been damaged in this place, and he prays to be allowed to depart." " Slippered him, Grorge ! but he's such a big man and she such a little woman ! All round the compound ! Oh," said George's wife, giving way to unseemly hilarity, " I should like to have seen that ! " " Little termagant ! Oh, it was the insult he ran from, my dear — not the blow. That she — an ayah and the wife of a kit- mutgar, should have touched him with the sole of her shoe ! Don't laugh, dear — they'll hear you, and I'd rather they didn't." The Brownes held further debate, and took all the circum- stances into consideration. Young Browne had evidently ar- rived immediately at a judicial view of the case, though he pro- fessed himself willing to let the bearer go if Helen wanted to retain Chua. " Though in that case there'll be anarchy, my dear, I warn you," said he. The result was a solemn gathering of the servants next morning upon the veranda, addressed by young Browne, while the memsahib sat up straight in another chair and looked serious. He took no evidence, there would have been too much, but he spoke thus : "There was yesterday a great disturbance in the compound, * Turban. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. 103 wliich is a shameful thing. Those wlio thus made great noises, and used bad language and were without self-respect, were the' bearer and the ayah. The bearer has served me many years in many places and with many other servants, and I have never be- fore known him to act without shame or to quarrel. The ayah has been known a few weeks only. Both the bearer and the ayah wish to go away. The ayrh may go. Bm ! " * After this simple and direct delivery no word was said. The servants dispersed to the compound, the bearer, reinstated in his self-esteem and justilied before the world, applied himself to for- get his wrongs and was more diligent than ever in his master's service. Chua stated to her mistress that if she had any more trouble she would die and the wind would blow through her bones, and many other things in grief-stricken Hindustani which Helen did not understand. But her mistress permitted iier tins balm to her wounded feelings, that when she departed she left the dishonoured shawl scornfully behind her, having privately received sufiicient backsheesh to buy three like it. * Enouirli. 104 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. c CHAPTER X. ALCUTTA, in social matters, is a law unto herself, inscru- table, unevadjible. She asks no opinion and permits no l[ [ suggestion. She proclaims that it shall be thus, thus it is, and however odd and inconvenient the custom may be, it lies within the province of no woman — the men need not be thought of — to change it, or even to discover by what historic whim it came to be. Calcutta decrees, for examjile, that from twelve to two, what time the sun strikes straightest and strongest on the car- riage-top, what time al. ■ rown Bengal with sweet reasonableness takes its siesta, in the very heat and burden of the day — from twelve to two is the proper hour forsooth for the memsahib to visit and Lo visited. Thus this usually tepid form frequently reaches a boiling point of social consideration, becomes a mark of recognition \<:hich is simply perfervid. It is also an unami- able time of day. The cheering effects of breakfast have worn off, and tiffin looms distantly, the reward of virtue. It would be impossible to say for how much malice it is directly respon- sible. But this is of the gods; we stew obediently, we do not dream of demurring. Another honoured principle is that all strangers, except brides, shall make the first call. Herein is the indolence of Calcutta generous and u7t reckoning. All new comers, of whatever business, jat, or antecedents, have the fee simple of her drawing-rooms, the right to expect their calls to be returned, and even to feel slighted if no further recognition B. THE SIMPLE AD r EXT C RES OF A MEM SA II ID. 105 , mscru- mits no t is, and s within .t of — to came to to two, the car- ableness y — from sahib to }quently a mark nnanii- ve w^orn t would respon- do not that all n is the l11 new the fee calls to Dgnition is made of them. Anybody may tacitly request Calcutta to in- vite him to dinner, and lay upon Calcutta the di.sagnrabk' onus of refusing to do it. Strangers present themselves on their merits: the tone of societv naturallv therefore becomes a lidle assertive. There are other methods of inilirect compulsion. A man mav call — this invariablv at mid-day on Sundav — and thereby invite you to leave cards upon his wife, and the lady is aggrieved if you decline the invitation. Calcutta sulTers all this. It is the dustnr. §L Mrs. (Jeorge William Browne of course was a bride, and had made her a})i)earance at church. It was not an imjiosing ap- pearance, and probably did not attract as much attention as the Brownes imagined ; they occupied one of the back seats of a sacred edifice of Calcutta which is known to be consecrated to official circles, and the Brownes were only mercantile. But the appearance had been made, whether or not anybody was aware of it: and Mrs. Browne was assuredlv entitled to sit from twelve to two in the days that followed at the receipt of congratula- tions. % " All Calcutta won't come," remarked young Browne, in a tone of easy prophecy. " But ^[rs. Fisher will probably look you up, and Mrs. Jack Lovitt, and the Wodenhamers — I've known the Wodenhamers a long time. And Mrs. P. ]\Iacintvre " — the person who undertakes this history — "Mrs. P. is the only lady in the firm just now. She's sure to call." " Where are the rest, George?" " One of 'm dead. ]^.[rs. J. L. ^lacintyre's dead — two of 'em, Mrs. Babcock and Mrs. Walsh, home in England with their babies." " But, George — all the people who came to the wedding? " "Out of compliment to the Macdonalds. Yes, thev'll i)rob- 8 I06 THE SIMPLE ADVEXTL'RES OE A MEMSAIIin. ably call — in their own good time, '^riioy're very busy making other visits just now, my dear. We mustn't allow ourselves to forgot that we're popularly known to l)e living on five hundred a month. Society bows to five hundred a month — with possibili- ties of advance — but it doesn't hurry about calling. You see there are so many people with superior claims — fifteen hundred, three thousand a month. It's an original place in that respect — Calcutta. The valuation of society is done by Government. ]\Iost people arrive here invoiced at so much, the amount usually rises as they stay, but they're always kept carefully ticketed and published, and Calcutta accepts or rejects them, religiously and gratefully, at their market rates. It's rather an uninteresting social basis — especially from our point of view — but it has the advantage of simplicity. You have a solemn official right to ex- pect exactly what you can pay for." AVith which treble cynicism young Browne received a bit of mignonette in his button-hole, kissed his wife, and departed. They were not really much concerned, these Brownes, about the conduct and theories of their fellow-beings at this time. Society was homogeneous, a human mass whose business it was to in- habit other parts of Calcutta, and do it as unobtrusively as possi- ble. Even as a subject for conversation, society was perfunctory, and rather dull. It was a thing apart, it did not menace them yet, or involve them, or tempt them. They had not arrived at a point when anything it chose to concern itself Avith was impor- tant to them. It is charming, this inditference, while it lasts, but it is not intended to endure. " It is certainly pretty," Helen remarked in a tone of convic- tion, looking round her little drawing-room. " It's charming ! " And it was. The walls were tinted a delicate grey, and the win- dows were all hung with Indian saris, pale yellow and white. ?y making irsclves to ; bund rod I possibili- You see liundred, lut respect vernment. lit usuidly keted and i(Misly and nterestiiig it has tlie gilt to ex- id a bit of departed, about the . Society vas to in- y as possi- rfiinctory, lace them rrived at a 'as impor- t lasts, but of convic- arming ! " d the win- md white. THE SIMPI.E AnVEXrrRES OE A MEMSAIim. 107 The fresh matted floor was bespread in phices witli blue and wdiite dhurries, and a big beflowered . Japanese vase in a corner held a spiky palm. There were books and })ictures — jierhaps neither of the sort to bear the last analysis, but that at a glance didn't matter — and bits of old china, and all Aunt Plovtree's crewel work, and two or three vases running over with roses. There were some comfortable wicker chairs from the China ba- zaar, gay with cushions after Liberty, and there were all the little daintinesses that accompany the earlier stages of matrimony. Through the windows came in bars and patches the sunlight of high noon, and the rustling of the palms, and the cooing of the doves in the veraiuhi. " It hasn't much character^'' said Mrs. IJrowne, with her head at a critical angle, " but it's charming." The fact is that it expressed cleanliness and the Hrovvnes' in- come. I fear that Mrs. Browne belonged to that very numerous class of ladies in whose o})iiiion character is a thing to arrange, just a matter to be attended to like the ordering of dinner. If you had asked her what particular character she wanted her room to express I think she would have been noiqilussed. Or she might have said, Oh, she wanted it to be "artistic," with a little smile of defiaiKJo wliich would have been an evasion, not to say an equivocjition of the matter. Helen Browne was not "ar- tistic," and why she should have wanted her drawing-room to express what she did not understand is one of those enigmas common to the sex, as it flowers from day to day into new mod- ern perplexities. Perhaps it was much more charming of her to be what she was. It led her, at all events, into no burlesques. Nothing could be less extravagant, for instance, than that she should presently occupy herself, with amused concern and mock de- 1 I I t ! IG8 ^V/A' SlMri.F. ADl'EXTL'Rl'.S OF A MEMSAlllB. si)air, ill tiiniiiig over ji collection of yoim<; Browne's giirnients W'itli ji view to improving them. Tiie beurer brought them to lier ill a l)asket, hiid them deprecatingly at her feet, and retired, doubtless tliinking that tliougli the memsaliib miglit be trouble- some in various ways, she had her advantages. Siie would per- haps destroy the sahib's partiality for old clothes, lie himself had struggled with these ancient socks and shirts a long and fruitless time, liad cobbled them until his soul revolted, espe- cially when the sahib, observing the result of his labour, had laughed dee]) laughs. The sahib was in no wise stingy — he would give new harness to the pony and new kiipra * to the syce, and the 'bazaar was full of beautiful garments for the ap- parelling of sahibs, yet persistently and without sense of dis- honour he enrobed himself daily thus ! It was a painful, incom- prehensible eccentricity. Now, perhaps, there would be a new order of things, and a chance for a little reasonable dusturi,] And Kasi spent the rest of the morning discussing contracts in the bazaar. To his wife, however, young Browne was obliged to be ex- planatory, and even apologetic, upon this point, lie had to tell her it was a way they had in India of sticking to their old things — it was only the most hideous swells that ever got anything new. You couldn't keep up with the fashion in India anyhow — the thing was to be superior to it altogether. Oh, she wouldn't have him discard that hat ; he'd had that hat four years, and he was attached to it. If he might be allowed to keep it another year or two the shape would very likely " come in "again. Surely he wasn't inexorably condemned to a new coat. It would take years to make another as comfortable as * Clothes. t Pi-ofit. 7//)'. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTLRES OE A .UE.USA ///E. 109 t them to 11(1 R'tilVll, X' troublc- vould por- le liiinsi'lf : long and Itod, espe- bour, had ingv — he a ^ to the 'or the ap- ise of dis- 'ul, incom- be a new di(sliiri.\ )ntracts in to be ex- had to tell old things anything lia anyhow Oh, she b hat four allowed to ely " come to a new Portable as that, and it was only 11 bit ragged in tlie eufTs. Hut Helen was inflexible over the shortcomings of her husband's wardrobe, as it is the first duty of the ladies of Angh)-India to be, and young Browne siionly paisot for worlds would Kasi have allowed his master's di- lapidations to become public. And ]\rrs. Jack Lovitt trip})ed up. "JIow d'ye do, Mrs. Browne?" she said. " I ho{)e I haven't come too soon. Some one told me you'd been seen — somewhere — church, I suppose. People always do go to church at first, in Calcutta. After a while you won't — at least not so regularly. It gets to be rather a bore, don't you know, either morning or even- ing. In the morning it takes it out of you so that you haven't energy to receive your callers, and in the evening — well, if you go in for Sunday tennis you're too much done for church. But perhaps you won't go in for Sunday tennis." Mrs. Lovitt sank into a chair and crossed her knees so that one small high-heeled boot stuck out at a sharp and knowing * Talpped into 1, that slie believe in 1 soon get r'our liiis- jirojudice the last ^ smashed 111." D doesn't )f course, ffected — night be lie says it didn't, certainly THE SI MP 1. 1: APIEX ILKES OF A Ml.MSANlH. I I I going out— everybody went in f(»r golf now — links all over the place. Did Helen go in for golf, and had she done anv cricket, before she left Kngland V .Mrs. Lovitt had a cousin, Stella Short, who was in the W'ilbarrow I'llcveii. I'eihai)s Helen had seen her pliot(»grapli— it had been in all the ladies' papers. '• What do you think of the climate, Mrs. Browne '•"' Helen said she thought it perfectly delightful; she found the glare a little trying. " Oh, [jlarv! Wait till the hot weather comes. It's all very well n(»w and will be till March, but the hot weather's sinii)ly beastly; and in the rains— well, in tjie rains you feel exactly like a dead rat." " That must bean extraordinary feeling," Helen responded, with some ustonishmeiit at the directness of the ladv's similes. " It /.v — rather I I siij)poso you're going to see the N'iceroy's C'u]) won this afternoon?" " Yes," said Helen, "are you?" " Very much so ! I'm one of those happy people who have got a tip. Jimmy Forbes gave me miiie. You don't know Jininiv. He and I are great chums — we're alwavs out tosrether." Mrs. Lovitt spoke with virtuous candour. " Wa^ an awfully jmcca* sort of fellow, is Jimmy — youll like him when you know liim. He's a great friend of my husband's, too," Mrs. Lovitt added. " Jack thinks a lot of him. And he's very knowing about horses. How do you get on with the servants? They'll stick vou no end at first — of course vou know that. When I began I used to pay three rupees for a leg of mutton. It used to cost us two hundred a month more than our income to live I " " Dear me ! " said Helen. " Wasn't that very inconvenient ? " * (jrCMUilie. 1 1 THE SIMPI.E ADVEXTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. I i i! 1^ " Ineoiiveiiicnt as the — as possible, sometimes, till Jack <,'ot Lis promotion. Now we manage all rigiit." " Have you any children, Mrs. Lovitt?" Helen ventured, as the bearer brought up anotiu'r card. "Clnldren! Bless me, no, I should think not!" replied Mrs. John Lawrence Lovitt. "lint I've got the littlest black- and-tan in Calcutta. Jimmy Forbes gave him to nu\ You must come and see him. Hello, Kitty Toote, so you're on the ram- page ! Good-bye, Mrs. Browne; don't let her prejudice you against Calcutta. She's always running it down, and it's the sweetest place in the world ! " Mrs. Toote made polite greetings to Mrs. lirowiie. " You know it isn't really," she said, disposing her tall iigure gracefully amonc: the cotton cushions of Helen's little sofa. " ]5ut of course it depeiuls upon your tastes." ^Irs. Toote had tine eyes, and an iiu'lination to emhonpoint. Her expression advertised a superior discontent, but there was a more genuine suggestion of gratified well-being underneath which contradicted the advertisement. " It's really awfully frivolous here," ^Irs. Toote remarked. " Don't vou think so — after England?" " How can I possibly tell — so soon ? " said Helen. "No, I suppose not. Personally, I wouldn't miiul \X\q frivol- ity. The frivolity's all right — if there \v ere only any thing £'/.s'{?, but there isn't." "Anything else?" Helen inquired. " Y'^es, anything really elevating, you know — anything that one could devote one's self to. I haven't a word to sav against frivolity ; I like it myself as well as anybody," said Mrs. Toote with engaging naivete^ " but there ought to be something behind it to back it up, you know." Mrs. Toote spoke as if she were objecting to dining exclusively upon ortolans, lint the objection 7/B. Juc'k got II til rod, as " replied est blaek- Yoii must tlie ram- idico you 1 it's the ?. " You jraeofully of course s, and an I supoi-ior gratiiled tisemcnt. eniarked. lefri rol- ling elsBy ing that ' against •s. Toote I behind 3he were bjection TII/C SIMPLE ADVEXrrRI'.S OF A MEMSAIflR. 113 m ,^% was a matter of pure dietetic theory. \\\ })ra('ti('e, Mrs. Toote throve upon ortohms. " Nobody reads," said AFrs. Toote. "Nobody?" asked Ikden. "• Nol)0(ly that 1 know — except novels, of course.'" "And you prefer other kinds of books," Jlclcn said, im- pressed. " More solid reading?" "01% I enjoy a good novel," ]\rrs. Toote conceded; "but 1 don't think people ought to coniine themselves to fiction. There's biography and philosophy, and — and social economy. All very interesting — to me." " Which are your favorite authors?" asked Helen, with defer- ence. ^[rs. Toote thought a minute. "John Stuart Mill," said she, "is a very tine writer. ]\[y husband has all his books. So is Iferbert Spencer; we have all his, too. So is Sir Henry Cun- ninghame. Have you read The Chronivlv)^ of Dushipore ? " " I'm afraid not," said Helen. " Is it verv jroo'l ?" " Oh, awfully. You must read it. Then, of course, there's Kipling. I'm devoted to Kipling." " Do you think he's nice?" asked ^frs. Browne, doubtfully. " I think he's everything. And I must say for the people here they do read their Kii)ling. But they don't talk about him. I don't believe they know the difference between Kipling and anvbodv else." " Perhaps," Helen ventured, " they're tired of him." "That's just where it is. How could anybody get tired of Kipling! You'll find plenty of gaiety in (Calcutta, Mrs. Browne; but you won't find much— culture ! " And ^Irs. Toote lifted her eyebrows and twisted her lips into a look of critical resignation. I iH fi!l i I i Ml ^ 1 ' 1 114 77/A SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. " Aren't there any societies ? " " Oh, if you menu the Asiatic, that's for scientists and people of that sort, you know, and they read awful papers there ahout monoliths and ancient dyiuisties and things. You can't con- sider that the Asiatic represents any popular tendency. 1 don't know anybody that's fond of Sanskrit. Of course," ]Mrs. Toote continued, " I'm speaking generally, and I mean particularly the women out here. There are some clever men in the depart- ments, naturally. One or two of them are my greatest friends, and it /-v refreshing to talk to them." " But are the ladies all frivolous?" Helen asked. " Oh, dear, uo ! " " And the unfrivolous ones — what do they do?" " They mess about charities, and keep their husbands in their pockets, and write eternal letters to their children in England. I've less patience with them than with the other kind," Mrs. Toote avowed. " Well," said Helen, smiling, " I'm not very literary, so I daresay it won't matter much to me." " Then you'll either go in for society or philanthropy — that's the way everybody ends up. You are going to the Drawing- Koom next Thursdav ? " " I think so." " Well, immediately after you must write your names down in the Government House books. Then they ask you to every- thing, you see. Don't put it off," advised j\Irs. Toote, on the point of departure. " Don't put it off a dayP In a quarter of an hour the Wodenliamers came — Colonel and Mrs. Wodeidiamer, a large lady and a generously planned gentleman. Tlie smallest and slightest of Helen's wicker chairs creaked ominouslv, as Colonel Wodenliamer sat down in it with THE SIMPLE ADVEXTi'RES 01- A MEMSAllIH. "5 an air of asserting tliut he wasn't the weight you niiglit tliiiik liim. As to Mrs. Wodenhanier, her draperies conii)letely submerged Helen's cotton cusliions upon the sofa. Colonel Wodenhanier had mutton-chop whiskers and a double chin and a look of rotund re- spectability that couldn't be surpassed in Hyde Park on Sunday. lie was not a fighting colonel, and in the adding up of commis- sariat accounts there is time and opportunity to develop these amplitudes. Mrs. Wodenhanier matched him more perfectly than is customary in the odd luck of matrimony, and had a com- plexion besides, which the Colonel couldn't boast. The com- plexion spread over features generously planned, and a smile that contained many of the quidities of a warm sunset, spread over both. Helen wondered in vain to which of ^Irs. Toote's two social orders they belonged, for as soon as Colonel Woden- hamer had explained how it was he had come to call on a week- day — Colonel Wodenhamer made this a point of serious impor- tance — Mrs. Wodenhamer led the conversation into domestic de- tails. It wandered for a time among pots and pans — enamelled ones were so much the best — it embraced all the servants, took a turn in the direction of the bazaar, and finally settled upon }liarrxins. " You'll find them so troublesome ! " said Mrs. Wodenhamer. " I don't know what they are," said :Nrrs. Browne, reflecting upon the insect pests of India. " Don't you, really ! It's a wonder you haven't found out ! They're towels or dust-cloths— anything of that sort. Almost every servant must have his jliarruns. You have no idea how they mount up." " I suppose they must," returned Helen, and turned to Colo- nel Wodenhamer with intent to venture something about the weather. Il6 THE SIM rue ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. -I \ i ii " I don't see liow you've got on witliout tliein so long ! " Mrs. Wodenhamer remarked, glancing round with involuntary criti- cism. " 1 assure you I give out weekly in my house no less than five dozen — five dozen ! " " That's a great many," Helen agreed. " A very fair passage, I believe. Colonel Wodenhamer — thirty-one days." " It's just a question whether they're better made in the house," Mrs. Wodenhamer went on placidly ; " I don't know that I wouldn't advise you to go to the Women's Friendly — they work very neatly there." " For t\\c jharriinfi. Oh, yes ! " said Helen. " The captain's name ? Fm afraid I forget. Colonel Wodenhamer. He was a little man." " They w^ear out so frightfully fast," his lady remarked. " P. and 0. cajitains ? But consider the life, my dear ! " ^^JJiarnins, John ! ^Irs. Browne really shouldn't begin with less than six dozen." " I must see about them at once," Helen said. " Fm sure they are very important." " The whole comfort of your life depends upon them," her visitor replied, rather ambiguously, and at that moment ^Irs. Macdonald came up, and the conversation became so general that nobody noticed Mrs. Wodenhamer's being lost in thought. As she and her husband rose to go, " Your house is smaller than mine," said Mrs. W^odenhamer, "I forgot that. I think" — con- scientiouslv — " vou miqlit do with four dozen." Neither could Helen bring Mrs. Macdonald under Mrs. Toote's classification, for Mrs. Macdonald certainly did not give one the idea of a serious person, and yet she talked a great deal about committees. Mrs. Macdonald expressly advised Helen to " go in for " philanthropy, and in the next breath declared that B. THE SIMPLE advextl'j:es oe a memsahih. 117 ! " Airs. ry criti- ess than )ass:igo, in the 't know y— tlioy 'aji tain's e was a d. r!" rin with ni sure m, " lier nt Mrs. iral that ht. As or tiian "11 -con- er Mrs. lot give pat deal "elen to ed tliat of course she and young Browne must get tlieniselvcs put up at the Saturday Chib, wliore a proportion, of Cak'utta banded itself together for purposes of dancing and amateur theatricals, tennis and light literature. It was puzzling, this combination of good works and fashionable recreation, until Mrs. Macdonald ex- plained, the exphmation being inferential. " You see," said Mrs. Macdonald, "you must take up some- thing, you know, and then you will get to be kiu)wn, and it will make all the ditfercnce. Of course if vou came out as the wife of a major-general or a commissioner or a bishop it wouldn't matter — you could be independent. But as it is," continued Mrs. Macdonald with delicate vagueness, indicating the Brownes' five hundred a montli, "- it would be better for vou to take an in- terest in something, you know. There's the Home for Sailors' Orphans — Airs. Leek and Airs. A'ondermore — they're not very important, thouj,h. And there's -Lady Blebbin's Hindu AVidow Institute — that's overcrowded now. I believe the very best thing for you " — Mitli an increase of business-like emphasis — " would be the East Indian Self-IIelp Society ! Airs. AValter Luif runs that, and she's just the woman to appreciate anybody fresh and energetic like you ! I've got inlluence there too — I'll get you nominated." " But," said Helen, in some disnuiy, " it's not at all likely that I should be able to be of any use." " Use ? Of c(mrse you will. A^)u'll be driven to death, but if Airs. AValter LutT takes you up, you won't mind that ! Be- sides," said Airs. Alacdonald witli an elTect of awakened con- science, " the East Indian Self- Helps do ti lot of good. You're interested in the East Indians, aren't you — the Eurasians?" " I don't know them when I see them," said Helen. " I alwavs confuse them with the Jews and the Greeks." ^ 1 18 THE SIMPLE ADVEXTCRES OF A MEM SAHIB. \ \\ I r ! i " Oh, well, you soon will. As a rule they're awfully poor, you know, and give us a lot of trouble in Calcutta. Dear nie!" Mrs. Macdonuld ejaculated, looking round, "how pretty you are ! But if I were you I'd have a Mirzapore rug for the middle of the floor; it makes the room so much richer, you know — shows uj) everything. And you ought to get two or three good engrav- ings — there are some lovely new French things at Thacker's — only fifty rupees each. Go and see them. But I must be off," said this sprightly lady, and Helen was presently again alone, with a delicate disappearing odour of jessamine and her reflections. I dropped in that morning too, after all the rest ; but it is not essential to the progress of this narrative that you should be allowed to gather from my conversation the sort of person that I am. I i UB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. i iq poor, you ear me I" 1 you are ! die of tlio shows up d engrav- acker's — t be off," one, with ctions. but it is ihould be •son that CHAPTER XL T was clearly impossible to attend Her Excellency's Drawing- J- R loom in a tum-tum. The Brownes discussed it with fulness and precision at some lengtii. Most people resident in Calcutta would have arrived at this conclusion more rapidly; but as young Browne said, he had never taken a wife to a Drawing- Room before, and a fellow always went to the levees in his tum-tum. H " It's that awful silk tail of yours that's the difficulty, dear," said he. " It might get wound up in the wheels, or Lord knows what. Couldn't you take it in a parcel and put it on when you . get there?" I can safely leave Helen's response to the imagination of all femininity. "Then," said young Browne, "it must be a ticca," and Helen sighed compliance, for she hated ticcas. M So does all Calcutta, except the baboos. The ticca is an uncompromising shuttered wooden box with a door in each side and a seat across each end. Its springs are primitive, its angles severe. When no man has hired the ticca, the driver slumbers along the roof and the syce by the wayside. "When the ticca is in action, the driver sits on the top, loosely connected with a bundle of hay which forms the casual, infrequent (Ivjenner of the horses. The syce stands behind, and if the back shutters are open he is frequently malodorous. There may be some Il 120 ^"^'Z^' SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. ' n I 1 if ;' i worldly distinction between the syce and the driver, but it is im- percei)tible to tlie foreign eye. I liuve never been able to decide which is the more completely disreputable of the two. Their rags flutter in competition. Thera is more variety among the horses. They are large and gaunt and si)eckled. They are small and lean and of one colour. They are lly-bitten, unkempt, knock- kneed, vicious, and nasty. They have bad and vulgar habits. Some of them have seen Australia and better times, but it is not evident in their manners. Some of them have been country-bred for so many generations that the original animal has almost dis- appeared, leaving a stricken and nondescript little rej)resentative that might more fitly be harnessed to a wheelbarrow, if wheel- barrows lent themselves to harness. The ticca-gharry horse is always ridiculous when he is not pitiful ; his gait under pressure is a gallop, and his equipment is made out in places with pieces of rope and other expediencies. Tho baboo loves the ticca- gharry because the baboo knows not mercy and gets a long ride, yea and seven of his kind with him, for threepence. Calcutta people hate it for reasons which are perhaps obvious. And for another. The ticca-gharry directly aids and abets Government in its admirable system for the valuation of society, represented, as has been seen, by the Accountant-General. A person who habitually drives in a ticca-gharry is not likely on the face of it to be in receipt of more than a very limited income, and is thus twice gazetted as not being a particularly desirable person to know. It is evident therefore that when the Brownes decided to go to the Viceregal Drawing-Room in a ticca they bowed to circumstances. "Only do?i't get one, George," said Helen, plaintively, "with a pink rosette on its ear." There were a few, a very few, otlier ticca-gharries in the HIB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. \2\ •ut it is im- e to decide wo. Their among the 3y are small njit, knock- ^ar habits, lit it is not >untrv-bred almost dis- iresentative k^, if wheel - ry horse is er jiressure rvith pieces the ticca- , long ride, Calcutta And for overnment B]) resented, erson who face of it nd is thus person to decided to bowed to elv, " with ies in the crowd of vehicles that blocked the street leading to Government House, and i)resently they all found themselves unaccountably in the rear of the line that was nuulc to preserve order anil prevent aggression. The stately landaus, the snug broiighajus and the smart victorhis rolled naturally into their places in front. The liritish policeman whether in Hyde I'ark or imperial India, knows his duty. So that Mr. and Mrs. Browne were not tlie first who alighted under the wide porch and made their way with more trepidation than they allowed to api)ear, into the crim- son-car[)etcd precincts of the Burra l^ord Sahib. "Where shall I nu'ct you after — after it's over, ({eorg(??" asked Helen coming out of the cloak-room, very j)retty in her soft white silk and the fresh Wiltshire colour that showed in her cheeks and proclaimed her newly "out." "Oh I'll tind vou — I'll be waiting with the other men out- side the door. (Jood-bve, dear. Don't be nervous!" '■''Yam nervous," said Mrs. Browne. "But I don't propose to show it. Good-bye!" and Mrs. Browne followed in the wake of other shimmering trains that were being marshalled from corridor to corridor on their way to the T'hrone Boom, where Their Excellencies, doubtless very bored, were returning bows to the curtseys of all feminine Calcutta. How verv fine those trains were, some of them. How elaborate and marvellous — how effective ! iVnd indeed they had come forth straight from Bond-street, many of them, for this very occasion, and therefore, why not? Wliat use, pray, in being wives and daughters of thousands a month in the land of exile, if measures could not be sacredly kept in England and "decent things" got out at least once a year ! And how the trains of thousands a month rejoiced in their contrast with others representing a smaller tuluh. I do not speak of Helen's, for hers was a flowing credit i ! ;i ,:,'l I :| i !! 122 y'///i" SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. to the Ciiiibury (Irossmakor and quite up to date, but of gowns of an elder fashion and another day tliat showed themselves with delightful na'ivvte wx\\o\\[rs. Browne," said ]\[r. Sayter presently, giving her an amisible glance from his sou}), " what do you think of us? Now I know what you're going to say," he continued, holdin*'- up a bit of crust in a warning manner, '" You're goinij to sav that you haven't been here long enough to form an oiMiiion, or words to that effect. I'm perfectly right, ain't I ? " Helen admitted that her answer might have been "some- thing like that." " But you don't mean it, vou know. Reallv and trulv if you think a minute, you'll find you don't mean it. You've got a lovely opinion of us, all ready for use, in this last month. And very proper too. The very first thing everybody does here is to form an opinion of Anglo-Indians. It can't be postponed, it'^ involuntary. Besides, it's a duty. We appeal to the moral side. We call out, as it were, for condemnation. Isn't that so, Wodenhamer ? " "Isn't what so?" said that gentleman. "Certainly. Nal 140 rilE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB, 1. W Ui 1 \\ \ ■ I II 'peg do^"^* to the kitmutgar who wanted to give him cliam- jiagne. " You should have been listening. I decline to begin again. I was trying to convince Mrs. Browne that India is the only country in the world where people can be properly applied to for their impressions before they leave the ship — the way thev do in America with travellers of distinction. But there's no use asking Wodenhamer. lie's never been to America, and when he does travel he goes incog, to avoid these things." Colonel Wodenhamer's mutton-chop whiskers exjianded in recognition of the joke, " People knov; it when ijoil travel," he said. " That's sarcastic of you, Wodenhamer, and naughty and unkind. I think he refers, Mrs. Browne, to the fact that I was gazetted for duty in Assam last month, and just a fortnight and three days after I came back the Briton announced that I was going. Do you know the Briton 9 Capital paper in many respects, but erratic occasionally in matters of considerable im- portance. Delicious paper for description of ball dresses. I revel in the Br it on'' s ball dresses." " Who d'you think does that sort of thing for them?" Mr. Peckle iiupiired. " Some lady, I suppose." " No indeed, Mr. Peckle," volunteered one in grey bengaline and gold embroidery, on the other side of the table. " It's Captain Dodge, if you please ! I know, because at the Belvedere dance on Friday he came and implored me to tell him what colour Lady Blebbins was wearing. It was hyacinth and daifodil faille — the simplest thing, but he was awfully at a loss, poor fellow ! And afterwards I saw him put it down on the back of his dance-card." * Whisky und soda. THE SIMri.E AD VEX TV RES OE A MEM SAHIB. 141 raliiie " It's 'cdcre wliat ifTodil w< " I diirosay they pay for sucli things," Mr. Peclde remarked. " I fancy Dodge gets ti polo pony out of it," observed Mr. Craii. " 1 didn't give that man Dodge credit for so much imagina- tion," said Mr. Sayter. "I wonder if I could induce him to put me in I I'd like U) be treated poetically in the newspapers, for once. But I'm afraid he won't," Mr. Savter continued sadlv, "because I can't wear mull muslin — isn't that what you call it?" to Helen. " I can't wear it because I should suffer from the cold, and yet the baboos do ! Tluit's queer, you know. The baboo is vain enough already, and I'm not vain at all ; yet Heaven permits the baboo to disport himself in the sweetest gossamer aiul threatens me with fever and rheunuitism if I should even think of such a thing ! " " But surely, Mr. Sayter," Helen interposed, " nobody suffers from the cold here ! " " Oh, my dear lady ! You don't know ! The cold is the one thiuij: we can't get acclimatized to in India ! To-night it would b(( Arctic if we weren't dining. Kitmut(j(u\ bund caro dar- waza ! * We'll have a fire up stairs afterwards." " A fire ! " said Helen in astonishment. " Yes. And then we'll be comfortable. He can leave all the doors and windows open, you know, so that you can take a severe cold if you want to. Although this is a country governed by a merciless despotism we don't compel ])eople to keep well if they'd rather not." " I can't imagine anybody suffering from the cold in Cal- cutta ! " Helen declared. " Why, to-day the thermometer stood at eighty- three !" " Oh," said Mr. Sayter, " how I envy you. — What ! no Roman * Shut the door. I !sl Pi 142 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES CE A MEM SAHIB. punch ! You are still warm, you still believe in the ther- mometer, you still lind the baboo picturesque — I know you do ! Thank .Heaven, I continue to like Koman punch — 1 retain that innocent taste. But I've been cold," said Mr. Sayter, rubbing his hand, with a shiver, " for years. For years I've had no faith in the thermometer. For years I've been compelled to separate the oil from the less virtuous principles in the baboo. It's very ?l sad, ^Irs. Browne, but you'll come to it." "1 say, Sayter," remarked young Browne, who was singularly {j P without respect of persons, considering that he lived in Calcutta, " I can't have you frightening my wife about what she'll come to in Calcutta. I don't want her to develop nervous moral appre- hensions — based on what yoiCve come to ! " Mr. Sayter's chin sank irto his necktie in official deprecation of this liberty on the part of a junior, and a mercantile one, but he allowed himself to find it humorous, and chuckled, if the word does not express too vulgar a demonstration. He leaned back and fingered his empty glass. '' Mrs. Browne," he said deliberately and engagingly, " will come to nothing that is not entirely charming." And he smiled at Helen in a way which said, " There, I can't do better than that." As a matter of fact he could, and Helen, as she blushed, was blissfully una^\aro that this was the kind of compliment Mr. Sayter offered, though not invidiously, to the wives of mercantile juniors. " Moral apprehensions," repeated Mr. Sayter slowly. — " Xo ! I've had you for ten years," — he apostrophized the kitmutgar — " you've grown grey in my service and fat on my income, and you don't know yet that I never take anything with a hole in it like that — and pink vegetables inside the hole ! Mrs. Browne, I'm glad you refrained. That's the single thing Calcutta THE SIMPLE ADVEXrVRES OE A MEM SAHIB. 143 -" No ! ■> i dinners teach — the one great lesson of abstinence ! I was very clever and learned it earlv — and vou see how many of them I must have survived. But talking of moral apprehensions, I know you're disappointed in one thing." " Xo," said Helen, promi)tly ; " I like everything." " Then you haven't anticipated us properly — you haven't heard about us. You ought to be very much disappointed in our flagrant respectability." " But I like respectability," Helen replied, with honesty. " Oh I There, I'm obliged to consider that you come short again, Mrs. Browne. You're not in sympathy with the age. 1 v'-^u't. I'm very respectable myself, b ' that's not my fault. I've never had the good luck to be nuirried, for one thing ; and that, in India, is essential to a career oi any interest. But I was once quite an exceptional, quite an original, character on that account, and I'm not any more. Those were the good old times. And to see a beautiful, well-based, well-deserved reputation for impropriety gradually disappear from a social system it did so much to make entertaining is enough to sadden a nuin at my time of life." " Really," said Helen ; and then, with a little bold shivering plunge, "Were the people out here formerly so very — incorrect?" " Oh, deliciously incorrect ! Scandals were really artistic in those days. I often wish I had preserved more of them ; my memory's getting old too. I find myself forgetting important incidents even in those concerning my most intimate friends. And how people spent their money then ! Big houses — turned into boarding-houses now — henps of servants, horses — entertained like princes ! Nowadays people live in flats, and cut the cook, and save to the uttermost cowrie, so they can retire a year earlier to drink beer with impunity and eat mutton chops with a better ;! I 144 77/A SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. V I: ,! Jippetitc ill Eiighiiul. Ignoble age ! People — these resiieetuble jieoplc — go liome second-class now, too, and pretend to be com- fortable. Disgraceful, I call it." 11 I " There isn't the money there used to be, Sayter," protested Mr. Peckle. " In those days a man got a decent tuluh^ and car- ried it away in a bag. And tiie vile rupee was worth two shil- lings." Mr. Peckle helped himself to pistachios, and passed the port. " 1 believe that explains it ! " and Mr. Sayter pressed his lips knowingly together. " It never occurred to me before. Econo- my and scandals don't go together. ^lake a man economical, and he becomes righteous in every other respect. So Govern- ment's to blame, as usual. I think, in view of this, we ought to memorialise (Jovernment to drop the income-tax. You would sign, wouldn't you, Mrs. Wodonhamer ? " " Yes, indeed," Mrs. Wodenhamer returned, placidly. " Gov- ernment ought to get the income-tax out of those rich natives. I think it's a shame to make us pay." " Quite right, Mrs. Wodenhamer ! These, Mrs. Browne, are called promotion nuts ! They're useful to effect the permanent removal of your superiors from office. Very nice and very deadly. You must be sure to have them when you ask any of Browne's firm to dinner. No, I've a prejudice against them ever since they were once offered to me in a pudding. I've a sad associa- tion with them, too." And ]\Ir. Sayter looked grave. " Indeed ! " said Helen, not quite sure whether she ought to make her tone sympathetic. " Yes, they always come on just as the ladies are leaving," twinkled Mr. Sayter; and Helen became aware that Mrs. Woden- hamer was looking at her with ponderous significance. There was the usual gracious rustle, and presently the ladies were com- V n^ ii^ I f m. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTVRES OF A MEMSAIIIB. 145 fortiibly uiitl criticiilly ensconcetl in the (Irawing-rooiii, sipping their cotfee, at various distiinces from tlie indubitable lire. Tlie conversation was not very general. "\irs. Wodenhamer discussed something in a suppressed voice on the sofa, with the lady who approximated her. Helen wondered if it wcrv J /uirrtnis. There was a])parently some symi)athy between the grey bengaline and gold embroidery and a cream crepe de Chine and pearls, with very yellow hair. A little incisive lady in black who happened to be nearest to Helen, asked if she didn't think for three incti tlie room was awfully pretty. Helen said she did, indeed; and the little lady in black continued, with an entirely unnecessary sigh, that men certainly t/id know how to make themselves com- fortable, there was no doubt about that. Did Mrs. Browne ever see anything more exqui.dte than that water-colour on the easel':' Mr. IV'ckle had just bought it at the Calcutta Art Kxhibition ; Mr. Peckle was a great patron of art and that sort of thing, but then he had to be ; lie was a director, or something. " Mv husband savs," remarked Helen, with lamentable indis- cretion, " that there isn't anv art in Calcutta." " Does he ? Oh, I think that's a mistake. Tliere's Mrs. Cub- blewell, and Colonel Lamb, and ^[rs. Tommy Jackson, ^frs. Tommy jiaints roses beautifully, and I do a little on satin my- self ! " Then, as if it were a natural outgrowth on the subject, "What is your husband here, Mrs. Hrowne?" " He's in .Xfacintyre and Macintyre's." "Oh, ?/e.s/" Whereafter there fell a silence, during which the little lady in black seemed to be debating young Browne's probable con- nection with the firm of Macintvre and ^[acintvre — it sometimes made such a difference — but before she had properly made up her mind the gentlemen api)eared, and there ensued that uncer- 1 !i . I ■I' 'I ?i! :iti 1 ' , 146 ^//>^' SIMPLE ADVEXTUkES OF A MEM SAHIB. tain form of (.'onversation which hetrays the prevalent desire that somebody should " make a move." Somebody made one finally, before Mr. Sayter actually yawned. The Browues drove home rather silently in their ticca- gharry. "Well?" said young Browne interrogatively, chucking his wife tenderly under the chin in a moonlit space of Chowringhee. "I was thinking, George," said she, "that I didn't see any photographs of their wives about the room." " No," said young Browne. *«(l THE SlMFiM ADVEXTUKES OF A MEM SAHIB. U7 CHAPTER Xlir. : i ••i INDIA is a country of iimelionitioiis. The punkah is an amel- ioration. So is the second-rate tlieatrical company from Australia, notwithstanding its twang. So, for those who like it, is the custard-apple. It is our com])laint that our ameliorations are too numerous and too obvious. It is painful to us that they should obscure everything else in the vision of the travelling PuTdHc, and suggest themselves as the main facts of an idyllic existence which runs sweetly among them to the tinkle of the peg and the salaams of a loyal and alfectionate subject race — which they do. When the travelling public goes back and repre- sents this to be the case in the columns of the Home Press we do not like it. The effect is that we are embittered, and the single one of us who is clever enough writes the ballad of " Paget M. P." This is natural and proper. We are none of us con- stituted to see our trifling advantages magnified, and our tragic miseries minimised, especially in the papers, without a sense of the unpardonable obtuseness of the human race. I do not in- tend to be drawn into personal anathenui in this chai)ter though. It will always be so. The travelling public will continue to arrive and tarry during the months of November, December, January, and February, and to rejoice in the realisation of all they have ever read in the Sunday School books. The travelling public will continue to prefer its own impressions. In British journalism and Ci reat British Parliamentary opinion there will 148 77//-; SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. I \ V A always bo a stodgy impracticability which the returned Aiiglo- Indiiin can never be strong enough to influence. We are a little leaven, but we cannot leaven the whole lump. We die too soon. Besides, it is easier and more comfortable to philosophise when one is going home next hot weather for good. I am content, as I write, to think of my ameliorations even with gratitude, and will only say what so many have said before me, that a protracted residence under ameliorations is necessary to the full uiulerstanding of how grievous a thing an ameliorated existence may be. The Brownes were not contented with what Nature does for us in this way in the cold weather — green peas and caulillowers, red sunsets, oranges and guavas at twopence a dozen. Ever since the evening they dined with Viw Sayter they had been of opinion that the only peoido whose existence was properly amel- iorated in Calcutta were the people with the joy of a fireplace in their houses. As a family young lirowne declared they were entitled to a fireside — it was monstrous that thcv should lack such an elemental feature of the domestic liabit. True they had a " siggaree," a funnel-shaped pot of charcoal, like every- body else — the kitmutgar made toast with it and the bearer dried damp sheets over it — but one couldn't be comforted at the risk of asphyxiation, and besides, it smelled. There was nothing else, and the I^rownes felt that they could wv>i accustom them- selves to gather in a semicircle round a tall Japanese vase, or a blank space in a white wall fifteen feet high, for anything like cheerful discourse. They considered that the enduring bliss which they seemed to have taken with the house lacked this one thing only. It was impossible to persuade the Spirit of the Hearth to make himself comfortable in a flower-pot. It was also impossible to build a chimney — their local tenure HIB. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OE A A/E. USA ////>'. 14Q led Anglo- lire a little omfortable eathor for lelioratioiis i have said orations is a tliin.'" exclaimed young Browne, and had occasion to bring his chair closer still There was a moist contact of cheeks and a succession of comforting silences. The kerosene stove continued to burn excellently, but was disregarded. "It looks like some kind of — of engine, doesn't it, George?" Mrs. Browne recovered herself sufficiently to say. "Yes. Beastly thing!" concurred young Browne in further disparagement. Then they began to observe the elTect of the heat on the varnish. It took the form of a hot penetrative un- pleasant smell that radiated from the kerosene stove into every quarter of the room. "I expect it will wear off," said young Browne gloomily, i \ " but we'd better put the thing out in llie compound every night \ until it does." \ J f It has never worn off, however. Helen, with responsible memory of the thirty-five rupees, used it conscientiously all last cold weather. She did serious and light-minded cooking with it while she suffered the delusion that she was Kali Bagh's superior \\< i IB. THE SIMPLE ADVE.WTL'RES OF A MEM SAHIB. 155 > a rcflcc- id spread ill smile, 'V pulled D impede ho room, ther thev wick. I is thing, 11 an un- Light and Itogether 3asion to of cheeks Mie stovo rcorge r)H II further :t of the iitive un- to every gloomily, Iry night — inevitable but short — and she made almost enough tolTee upon it to justify its expense, if it had been necessary to sul)sist upon tolTee. Whenever anything could be done with it tlie lirowues did it. Thev had it lighted to welcome their return from hurra- klianas and (Jovernment Iiouse dances, and on one occasion Helen sat for half an hour before it in her most cherished gown, under a shower of softly falling black Hakes of carbonized kero- sene without l)eing aware of it — the result of an injudicious lighting and forgetting on the part of the bearer. Many au evening they .^at in its presence nuiking efforts at hilarity and trying to forget the odours of varnisli and kerosene — in the q\\(\ tiiey always confessed it inadequate. It had a self-contained moroseness, it never smipped or s])arkleil or died down. When tiiev went to bed thev turned it out. Through its two round eyes it mocked their homesick eiTort after the cheer of other lands. T'he bearer admired it and took })i'ide in setting it alight. But the Brownes regarded it with feelings that grew constantly more '* mixed.'" It made no ashes and gave no trouble, and when they didn't want it it was not there — all (»f which seemed additional olfences. The old kite that surveved them alwavs through the window from his i)erch in the sago ])alm beside the veranda .^^aid nothing, but if thev had been intelligent thev might have heard the jack- als that nightly pillaged the city's rubbish heaps, howling derision at the foolishness of a sahib who tried to plant his hearth-stone in India. ponsible all last with it ■superior 156 THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OE A MEM SAHIB, CHAPTEK XIV. RS. BROWNE was not permitted to know any of her immediate neigh- bours, which slie thought unfor- tunate. It was a pity in a way, and yet not a great pity, for if I know anytliing about Helen Browne she would not have been able to assimi- late her neighbours comfortably. Un- less they live with the great and good in Chowringhee, it is often difficult for Calcutta people to do this. It is said that the missionaries manage it, but about this no one is certain, for between Calcutta people and the missionaries there is a great gulf fixed. Calcutta interprets the missionary position with strict logic. It was not Calcutta — Calcutta proper — that the missionaries came out, second class, to establish intimate spiritual relations with, but the heathen. Calcutta is careful, therefore, not to interfe \\\ when it was necessary to prepare the way none shouted louder or ran faster than the servants of IiadabuUub Mitterjee, who ])robably thought that there ought to be a sensible dilTerence between the apparel of a .syce and i)iidv brocade, and a[)i)roved it. T{adal)ullub did iu>t alway.s drive in the Ked Road alone. Some- times the cushion beside him was occu])ied bv a verv small and high-shouldered edition of him.self, encased i!i blue .satin with gold edgings. This Bahadur in embryo folded his arms like his father and looked at the Red lioad with equal sui)erciliousness ; indeed, I fancy he took much the same views of life generally. Thev are earlv inheritiMl in Bengal. But the ladies, the ^Fesdames Mitterjee, when they issued forth from the little silent yellow house, which they did but sel- dom, went most securely in charge and under cover, and ^^rs. Browne might look in vain for any glimpse of their fascinations 1:^ I (IB. most im- Lt tlio soul wcrt' very fore legs, 'lings like iisly, fold- r twisting t a crrtaiii a man of [» when he tand what ants were •e of tliem neied, and 1 (h)\vn at y applied, e shouted Mitterjee, di Here nee proved it. Some- mall and atin with s like his iousness ; generally. \v issued |1 hnt sel- md ^frs. •inations ! 4 as > o I, y. l6o 7///i SIMPLE ADl'KNTUREti OF A MEM SAHIB. V I I * I Ijeliind tlie purple curtains of their pulauquins, as they passed lier giite. I don't know the name of the peo})le on the other side, and neither does Mrs. Browne. They seemed to live a good deal in the veranda in an untidy way. Helen could always command a man asleep tliere in pyjamas from her drawing-room window, up to eleven o'clock in the morning. They paid no more attention to their com})ound than Hadalnillub did, but they had a leggy bay colt tied up there upon which the family lavished the tender- est alfection. When the Brownes drove home in the early dark- ness from tennis, they could usually see a casual meal going on through an open window at which the discourse was very cheer- ful and general, the men in shirt-sleeves, the ladies posed negli- gently with their arms upon the table. There was a baby, a cracked piano, and a violin in the house, but the baby had a good constitution and went to bed at eight o'clock, and it did not seem to the Brownes, as they listened to the songs their neigh- bours sang after dinner, that the piano was very much out of tune. Tiiey were old old songs that everybody knew, sung with great s{)irit and energy, chiefly in chorus, and Mrs. Browne's slipper kept time to them with great enjoyment. A boisterous old song in Calcutta Avas a pleasant anomaly and struck through the numgo trees like a voice from home. The hearts of the Brownes warmed towards their neighbours as they smote the languid air with " Do ye ken John Peel with his coat so gay?" and as it came again and again, Mr. and Mrs. Browne smiled at each other and joined softly in the chorus, being comforted thereby. It was rather an additional attraction that these har- monies grew a little beery later in the evening. Young Browne could drink beer in Calcutta only under pain of his own later dis- pleasure — a bitter thing for an Englishman. 'IB. ey passed side, and d deal in mmand a ndow, up attention id a leggy le tender- irly dark- going on ;ry cheer- sed negli- i babv, a id a good : did not ir neigli- h out of ling with Browne's oisterous through of the lote the gay ? " niled at niforted 3se har- Browne ter dis- THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEMSAIIIH. l6l They were jockeys, these i.'eighbours of the Browiies' — from Australia verv likelv, with the last batch of Waler horses. 'I'licv belonged to the class Calcutta knows collectively, as a siib-soi'ial element, that nevertheless has its indeterminate vahic, being white, or nearly so, as a rule. The aristocracy of the class is probably re])resented by the commissariat sergeants and tiie local police, and 1 have no doubt it observes its rules of })recedence, though it is unlikely that Mrs. Browne's neighbours had much regard for them. On certain davs of the vear Calcutta makes brief acquaintance with "Light Blue and Canary,'' or " (Jreen Pink Sleeves," but his wife and Ijaby go on, one might say, with- out orticial sanction of any sort ; they are })ermitt('d. So it doesn't matter to anybody what Light Blue iind Canary's Chris- tian name is — ins caj) and sleeves are enough. Occasionally the rej)orters are obliged to find it out when Light Blue and Canary breaks his wretched neck and half ruins a beautiful horse, and the public have to be informed of it. Then his friends dress Light Blue and Canarv in mufti and bury him earlv next morn- iug in Circular Road Cemeterv, and there is the most annoviui; confusion when both he and his horse have to be scratched for the afternoon's races. As to the wife and baby under tiiese cir- cumstances, they still go on, it is supposed. I regret to sav that the Brownes were bounded on the north by a bustee. It is not necessary to explain that a bustee is an unsavoury place, the word has a taste and a smell of its own. One is alwavs aware of the vicinity of a bustee, chiefly because of the bovine nature of the fuel it consumes. It is impossible to put it less vulgarly than that. All over Calcutta, in the cold weather, there hangs at set of sun a blue cloud of smoke with an acrid smell. It offends the nostrils of the verv Viceroy, vet it is not in the power of any municipal Commissioner to put out the 1 62 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. \\ fires tliut soiul it \\\i. It curls tlirough a thousand roofs, tlu- tik'd roofs of the country, representing niucli humble comfort and many humble dinners, and every morning on the !Maidan you nuiy see ugly old women stooping to collect the nniterial for it. IJustees, moreover, are never drained. They and their inhabit- ants fester comfortably through the long blue and green Indian days unconscious that their proximity does not enhance rents. Mrs. Hrownc found her bustee neighbours more approachable. Her dressing-room window overlooked the place and gave her a })oint of speculation which she enjoyed quite shamelessly. A young papoia tree flourished in a corner of the roof she looked down upon, and various forms of vegetables fringed it. It was the daily promenade of the family cock, and occasionally a black goat took the air there. The cock Hew up, but the goat always made use of the familv staircase. The familv lived mostly in the yard — three old women and five babies. The old women wore various kinds of rags, the babies were uniformly dressed in a string. The biggest baby carried the littlest about, astride her hip, and they all played together in one corner, where they nuide nuirvels in mud, just as children who wear clothes do. The old women scolded them severally and collectively, especially when they came and teased for breakfast with pathetic hands upon their little round stomachs. The oldest of the old women cooked the breakfast, and she would not have it hurried. She cooked it in a single pot that stood on a mud firejlace in the middle of the yard, scjuatting before it, feeding tlie flames with one hand and stirring the mess with the other. Helen could see what she ])ut in it — rice, and more rice, and yellow dhol, and last of all pieces of llsh. As she cooked the wonum looked U]) at Helen now and then and smiled, amused that she should be interested in so poor an occupation — a memsahib ! And the babies, when 'IB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. 163 roofs, tlu! I comfort ) Maidau rial for it. • iniiabit- n Indian rents. 'oachable. iVG lior a ossly. A le lookt?d ;. It was ly a black at always mostly in d women ressed in tride her ley made Tbe old lly when ids upon 11 cooked ?ooked it iddle of lie hand Ahat she 1st of all t Helen terested ps, when they discovered her, stood open-moutlied and gazed, fori;etting the })ot. In the house they divided it upon plantain leaves, a jjopular dinner service in Bengal; and wlien the babii'S issued I'orlli again, in lile, their ajipearance was quite aldermanic. The old women perhaps reposed, the sun grew liot on the window- ledge, and Helen thought of other things to do. In the evening, tiioiigh, when the hibiscus bushes threw long shadows across the garden i)ath,and Helen waited for her lord by the gate as a bride will, the babies came round tiirough devious lanes to assert them- selves as the same babies of the morning and eligible for pice. Hi'k'ii felt an elementary joy in bestowing it, and the babies re- eeivetl it solemnlv, as entirely their due, with little salaams for form's sake. There was tremendous interest on both sides, but beyond the statement that the babies lived in the little house, and the memsahib in the big one, conversation was difllcult, and Helen thought with concern of the vocabulary that would be necessarv in order to teach them about man's chief end. Thev came every day to watch the going forth of the Hrownes in the tum-tum, and made a silent, open eyed, admiring little group beside, the gate, at whicii the pony usually shied. Then young Hrowne would crack his whip in the air very fiercely indeed, and address them in language that sounded severe, though it iiad no perceptible effect. Even the babies in Hengal accept the sahib as a blustering, impolite person of whom nobody need be afraid. And then opposite, across the weedy road K.id the stagnant ditch, a riotous Hajali resided, in a wonderful castellated place with four or five abandoned acres around it. The Kajali was very si)leiidid and important. He had a slouching guard at his gate with a gun, who probably bullied the dhoby ; and when he went abroad in the evenings, four badly uniformed horsemen, and no less, pranced uncertainly behind his carriage. The Ra- 164 TIIK SIMri.E ADVEXTL'KES OF A MKMSAUIB, juli gavu {'ntertuinmonts to Kuro|U'aii gentlemen of cireuiiistaiu'e, whereat I do not tliiiik any single variety of food or drink pro- curable in (.'aleutta was omitted ; but ladies did not i)articijmte, exeej)t, of eourse, those who contributed to the entertainment — the ladies of the iiautch, or those of a stray theatrical coni})any whose perfornumces tlie Hajah fancied. In return tlu.' Rajah was invited to evening parties at (iovernment House, where he upj)eare(l in a turban and diamonds, supremely oiled and scented, stood about in corners with his hands behind his back, and never for an instant dreamed in his disdainful Hindu soul of eating at the Viceroy's supper-table. At the end of tlie cold weather he went back to his own state, where he sat on the floor and hatched treason against the British with both nuijesty and comfort. In the evening his domain was dotted with the cook- ing-fires of his peoi)le, who nuide a sort of tented field of it. The wind blew the smoke across the Brownes' compound, causing young Browne to use language uncomplimentary to Rajahs, and that was all they ever had to do with this one. I mention the local isolation of these young people because it is typical of Calcutta, where nobody by any chance ever leans over anybody else's garden gate. Doubtless this has its advan- tages — they are probiibly official — but Helen, not being official, found it cramping. There was always the garden, though ; she had that much lib- erty. The garden had begun with the Brownes, it was a con- temporary success. There had been desolation, but you have heard how they engaged a mallie. Desolation fled before the mallie by daily degrees, though he was seldom seen in pursuit of it. When gardeners work in Christendom, this one sought re- pose and the balmy hubble-bubble, or bathed and oiled and ate in his little mud house under the pipal tree. It was very early IB, inistiinco, rink })!•()- irti('ij)iiU', .UlIllL'llt — ;he Kajali se, where oiled and Ids back, indu soul I the cold L the Uoor ajesty and the cook- )fit. The il, causing ajahs, and because it ver leans ts ad van - g official, much lib- las a con- you have kfore the bursuit of bught re- and ate Lery early THE SIMPLE ADVEXTi'RES OF A MEM SAHIB. 165 in the morning, at crow-caw one niiglit say in poetic reference to the dawn in India, that the mallie scratched and scraped along tiie garden beds with his wonderful little trowel, and spoke to the flowers so that they sprang up to answer him. When the shadow of the house fell on the hibiscus bushes he came out again, and slaked the hot beds with wati'r from the tatik in many buckets. Here and there he stoojied ovim- them like a glistening brown toad-stool, but Helen never knew what he did or his reason for doing it — that was hid with the mallie-lok. As to the garden, there was not a tro])ical seed in it, they were all English flowers, which made the mallie's excellent un- derstanding with them more remarkable, for tliey spoke a differ- ent language. It was not much of a garden, there was abso- lutely no order or arrangement — it would liave worried me — but the Brownes planted a vast amount of interest and affection and expectation in it; and it all grew. There were such nasturtiums as Helen longed to show her mother, there were jddoxes white and purple, pansies too, and pinks, and not a quiet corner but was fragrant with mignonette. A row of sunflowers tilted tall against the side of the house, and they actually had corn-bottle^, and balsams and daisies. Violets too — violets in exile, violets in pots, with the peculiar projierty that violets sometimes have in India, of bringing tears to the eyes if one bends over them. The Brownes began by counting them — the first pansy-bud was an event, and I have heard references between them to " the dav the sunflower came out." They chronicled dailv at break- fast: "Two nasturtiums and a pink," "two pinks, three nastur- tiums, and the monthly rose," with great gratulation, while I am convinced neither of them looked twice at the fine bunch I sent round occasionally from my garden while their garden was grow- ing. It grew so fast, their garden, that presently, if you met \: 1 66 THE SIMPLE ADl'EXTL'KES OF A MEM SAM IB. them in society, thoy could tulii of nothing else. It was new to tlu'Mi, tliis friemliv solace of the flowers of home. One would liave thought it specially invented for tiieir honeymoon, whereas the rest of us demanded it every cold weather, as regularly as the punkah on the fifteenth of March. Mrs. Hrowne usi-d to go about saying what a woiulerful amount of comfort one could get out of a verbena, if it were only the right colour, without the slightest sus[)icion of the triteness of the remark; and young Browne would show you his home-grown button-hole, as if no other man in the place possessed one. It was eminently good for them, as it is for all of us. To some of us, you know, Eng- land at last becomes a place where one dies daily of bronchitis, and is obliged to do without a kitmutgar; but this never hap- pens if every cold weather one i)lants one's self round about with English flowers. They preserve the remnant of grace which is left in the Anglo-Iiulian soul, and keep it homesick, which is its one chance of salvation. Young iJrowne seldom said anything cynical in the garden, and as for Helen, it was simj)ly C'anbury to her. She could always go down and talk of home to hor friends in the flower-beds, who were so steadfastly gay, and tell them, as she often did, how brave and true it was of them to come so far from England, forgetting, perhaps, that from a cli- matic })oint of view nasturtiums like heathendom. And in the evening the smoke of the hubble-bubble was lost in the fragrance of the garden. Mrs. Browne says that if I am writing about their compound, I ought not to omit to mention the fowl-yard, which was situ- ated at one end of it, near the stable. It was another experiment in economy — the cook used such a quantity of eggs that the Brownes saw no reason why they should not be produced on the premises. So they enclosed a fowl-yard and stocked it, and the UB. as new to )iu! would \, wlu'ivas irlv as the sed to ^'o could get ithout the iiid young L>, as if no enlly good now, Kng- hronchitis, uever hap- about with !C which is khich is its 1 anything y ('anbury me to her y, and tell i)f thein to roni a cli- nd in the fragrance \ THE SIMPLE .-iJH'EXri'KES OE A MEAfSA////i. 167 cock vied with the crows in informing them of the earliest hint of dayligiit. Hut the lirownes do not now advise tiie keeping of fowls on the grouiwl of economv; thev suv, indeed, that onlv the very rich can alTord to keep them. It seems that the syce kindly supplied their food out of the pony's gram, charging the di'licit to the mem:?iihib, who also paid liberally for barley, a visionary jtro- vision at which her birds had never a pick. They were, notwiih- standiug, sound healthy hens, and the marvel was that they did not lay — except an i}^^^ or two a week for pure ostentation. Kali Hagh was doing a good business with the rest, supplying them to Mrs. Browne at full market rates, and to Mrs. (ireen Pink Sleeves at about half, to secure her custom. 'I'he hens in the meantime clucked cheerfully, and Helen was in a parlous state when in the end thev had to be cut off untimelv and stewed. " Hut with ruin staring us in the face," slie said, " what else could we do I'' This will serve as an explainition to posterity, if any should inquire why it was that toward the end of the nineteenth century in Hengal only Members of Council were in the habit of kee|)ing hens. 'ompound, was situ- [xperiment that the led on the It, and the 1 68 THE SIMPLE ADVENT UUES OE A MEM SAHIB. CHAPTER \\\ 4^ HE cold weatlier is not a season of unquali- fied delight in Calcutta, in spite o-f the glorious cor ling of the Raj into his winter palace, and the consequent nautch. The cold weather has its trifling drawbacks. The mosquitoes and the globe-trotters are so bad thcD, that rome people have been known to ;»refer the coni])arative seclusion they onjoy when the thermometer stands at 103° in the shade, when the mosquitoes liave gone to the Hills, pursuing the fat of the land, and the globe-trotters to northern latitudes seeking publishers. It may be set down as an axiom that the genus globe-trotter is unloved in Calcutta. It nuiy also be set down as an axiom that it is his own fault, for reasons that »uiy appear. \\\\i there ar? globe-trotters aiul globe-trotters, anu of some the offence is venial — nothing more, perhaps, than that they nuike the hotels uncomfortable, and i)ut up the price of native curiosities. And some are amusing in their way, and some bring English con- versation with them ; and I have known one to be grateful for such poor favoi;rs as he received, but he was not a globe-trotter that took himself seriously. It is also possible, \ believe, if one lives Ml India long enough, to con.o across a globe-trotter who is IB. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEMSAI/IIi. 169 )f unquali- ite of the 11 j into liis '-onscquent ler has its mosquitoes re so bad have been oni])urative at 10;i° in <, pursuing ] latitudes obe-trotter an axiom Hut there olTenee is the liotels ies. And ijiish con- atcful for be-trotter |ove, if one ter who is i modest and teachable, but we liave been out here oidy twenty- two years, and I am goin;; home without having seen one. The Parliamentary globe-trotter represents the spei'it-s .' -h has impressed itself most upon Anglo-India. He has given 11 character ami a linish, as it were, to the whole gi'uus. He lias made himself so prevalent and of such repute that, nuvting any stalwart stranger of cheerful aggressive countenance al His Kx- eelleney's board, we are apt to iiujuire amongst ourvSelves, ''of what district ?" hoi)ing for reasons private t(» .\nglo-lndia, that it may not be a Radical one. The initials " M. P." l.ave become cabalistic signs. They lill us with the memory of past re- proaches, and the certainty of coming ones. They stand for much improper language, not entirely used in India. Tiiey inspire a terrible form of fear, the a|)prehension of the unknown, for the potentials of the globe-trotting M. I*, are only revealed in caucus, the simple Anglo-Indian cannot forecast tliem. Regularly with December he arrives, yearly more vigorous, moro in(iuisitive, more corpulent, more disposed to niake a note of it. We have also m)ticed an aninud increase in his ])olitical imj)or- tance, his loquacity, aiul his capacity to be taken in, which lie would consider better descrribed as ability to form an independ- ent opinion. At this moment we are looking forward to the last straw in the sha})e of Lord Iiandolph Churchill. Mr. Jonas Hatcham, M, P., was not so great a man as Lord Randolph C'luM-chill when he arrived in Calcutta last cold weather; what he may have become sin^^e, by the diligent use of his Indian experiences ami information collected "on the sp(»t," I have no means of knowing. (Jeorge Hrowne's father was one of Mr. Hatcham's constituents, and this made Mr. Hatcham will- ing to stay with the Hrownes wlnle he was inspecting Calcutta, and collecting ao ice to offer to the V^iceroy. He kindly put up 170 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. 1 1 >! h i with thoiii for sevcnil weoks, juul wlii'ii he went away he gave four annas to tlio swocpor. Mr. Hiit(!hani occasionally (K'scrilu'tl liinisclf as one of the largest manufacturers in tl^e nortli of Knghmd, and tli(»ugh the description h-aves something to hi; (k-sircd, it does suggest Mr. Hatcliam. He was hirge, imposing in front, massive in tlie rear. He was gray-wliiskered, of a ruhicund countenance, of a douhle ciiin. He wore a soft felt hat a little on one side, and his hands in liis })ockets, a habit which always strikes me as characteristic of a real manufacturer. \\<\ was very well informed — they all are. He had a suj»vc yet olT-hand manner, a business-like smile, a sonorous bass voice, and a dee]), raging and unquenchable thirst for Tacts. Mr. liatciiam was very much aware of his value to the Hrownes as a !U'W arrival from Kngland — a delicate apprecia- tion of hinis»'lf, which is never wanting to a globe-trotter. Mr. liatcham blandly mixed himself up with the days when ])eople came round the (.*ape in a sailing-ship, or across the sands of Suez on a camel, and invested himself with all the sentimental interest that might attach to a fellow-countrvman discovered in the interior of Bechuanaland. A generous philanthrojiic in- stinct rose up and surged within him as lie thought, in the midst of iiis joyful impressions of the tropics, how much pleasure his mere presence was probably im)>arting. He almost felt at mo- ments as if he had undertaken this long, arduous, aiul expensive iournev \\\ the interest of the Hrownes as well as those of his constituents. The great concourse of hi.J kind in the hotels, the telegrr.ms in the morning's Kiujlishman^ the preseiu'c of overland cheese, the electric light, and the modern bacteriologist, should have re- buked tills })rctensi()n somewhat, but it is doubtful if anything UB. lie gave le of Die liouj^li tlie i;iing through, it was so hot in .June that men had servants to drench them with water in the middle of the night regularly. I saw they were enjoying it, so I let them go on — in fact 1 rather drew them out, es[)ecially about indigo. Took it all in and cried for more, as the babies do for patent nu'dicine. Then when we got out at the station here I said, 'Thank you gentlemen, for all the "information" you have given nu'. It has been very entertain- ing. Of course you will understand, however, that I don't be- lieve a word of it. (lood nuirning!' I fancy those two indigo planters will hesitate before they tackle their lU'xt gloi)e-trotter. I never saw men look more astonished in my life." " 1 should think so!" exclaimed young Browiu'; " what they told you was wholly aiul literally true." Mr. iFonas Batcham looked at his host with a humorous twinkle. " Don't ijon try it on," said he. Although Mr. Hatcham found it advisable to shed so much of the light of his counteiuiiuu) upon the Hrownes, as I have said, it was native India that ho eamo to see and report upon. Ai\d to this end he had read one or two of the most recent publica- tions on the subject, works produced, that is to say, by our very most recent visitors, smoking from the London press before their authors' names were dry in the Bombay hotel register. These volumes had given Mr. Batcham comprehensive ideas of native India, and he knew that between Cape Comorin and Pesliawur wore lying two hundred and fifty million people urgently in need of his benevolent interference. They were of different races, religions, customs, and languages — Mr. Batcham had expected to II Hi. ration, hut \\\\w\ would feet steady tvcrc ^'oing s to divnch rly. I saw •atlicr drew id cried for lu'U wo ^ot for all tlie ^ entcrtaiii- I don't be- two indi/•■ .1 MKMS.IIIIII. ■73 I find that and had efiuijiped himself for ii. by h-arninLr the names of almost all of them. He was acfjuainled with .several of their ^'od.s, he knew tiiat (Janesh had an ele})hant\s head, that Kali loved the blood of goats, and that Krishna was the .source of all things. He was aware also that it was not proper to speak of Mohammedan rajahs or Hindoo sheiks, and he had ijiformed him.self upon the subject of Eastern polygamy. .Mr. Hatcham was a person of intelligen«'e who did not travel without prepar- ing his mind, and though according to his own modest statenu-nt there was still a great deal that he didn't know about India, it was open to an appreciative })erson to doubt this. In one direc- tion Mr. Batcham had preparc(l his mind with particular care, so that the very slightest impression could not fail to be deep and pernuinent — in the direction of the wrongs, the sulTerings, the grie\ances under liritish rule, of his two hundred and fifty million fellow subjects in India. Upon this point Mr. Batcham was tender niid susco])tible to a degree that contrasted sitigular- Iv with his attitude towards the rest of the world, which had never found reason to consider him a philanthropist. This solicitude about his Indian brethren was the more touching ))er- haps on that account, ami the more remarkabh? because it found only cause for grief and remorse in the condition of native In- dia. .\ny trilling benelits that have accrue. If Mr. Matcham were the (fovernment of India, he would scorn to fill the treasury with the returns of vice. Mr. Hatcham would tax nothing but virtue and the pay of (Jovernment servants. And though Mr. Hatcham was not the (JovernnuMit of India, was he not entitled from his seat in the Hritish House of ('omnu)ns and the de})th of his righteous indigiuition, to call the (Jovern- ment of India to account? For what else then did .loiuis Hatch- am, M. P., one of the largest manufacturers in the north of Kngland, with little time to spare, undertakf this arduous and expensive journey to the Kast ? Oh, there were nuuiy tilings that grieved hitn, Mr. Hatcham, many things to which he felt compelled to take exception, of which he felt comjxdhMl to make a note. He was grieved at the attitude of the (Jovernment towards the native press in the matter of seditious and disloyal editorials, scattered bv thousaiuls under shelter of the vernacular Hi. THE SIMri.E Al)\'i:\ I'LKES OE A MEMSAIlin. 1-5 pivaclicr Ijitcluun'a [ am un- til which n, always th opium not only tor!im(.'nt I'in^ that teneil, in sery and searclu'd nay st'om mount of or. 'J'hc lifjuo. If scorn to m would soryants. dia, was tnunouH Joytrn- Hatch- lorth of ous and thiuIK. .lONAS HATi MAM, M. I*. amon»::st an i.!^MU)raiit and fan-itic popuialion. Mr. hatchaju did not wish to see this practice discouniijcd. 'Ww lihtrty of the press Mr. iiatcham considered the foundation stone of the lihcrty 176 >'///; SIMPLE Ain'ENTl'KES OF A MEMSAUIIi. of tli(! siilijcct — let tho people; raise their voice. (Jrieved also was Mr. Hatcliain at the cold shoulder turned hy (ioverurjient to the Indian ('on;;ress — that nohle einhodinient of the strn;j^;;les and aspirations of a suhject people. Mr. Bateharn thon<,dit that all native movements, movements that marked progress and emaneii)ation, should he warndy encouraged. The suspicion of intrigue was an ahsiird oiu', and this was not merely a matter of opiiuon with Mr. liateham. lie had it from a native gentleman prondnently connected with the Congress. Mi-. Batcham hatl hrought a letter of introduction to the native gentleman — .Mr. Dt'hendra Lai iianerjee — aiul Mr. I)el)en«lra Lai Manerjee had given him surh an "inside" view of the methods and aims of the Congress as gratified Mr. Hatcham exceedingly. .Mr. Hateh- am found .M r. Dehendra Lai iianerjee the soul of hospitality, very a|)i)reciative of .Mr. Matcham's illustrious position, anxious to gratify .Mr. Hateham's intelligent curiosity hy every means in liis power, and hrimming over with loyalty and enthusiasm for the institutions which .Mr. Hatcham representeil. And when Mr. i)cl)endra Lai Hanerjee declared, in aitality, anxious leans in asm for when t Kni,'- i^^dii of tlie ad- lemher iteliam l)eliev(» er, and won hi Kn ro- ot find ilTerent India. 1 THE SIMPIJ: ADVEXTVKES OF A MEM SAIN H. lyj " All," said Mr. liateharn, "on aceonnt of a hrown skin I " llo could not understand it — no, he could uot undi-rstand it I Hut if Mr, Batehani could not understand it, he could ih> what lay in his ])ower as u person of generous sympathies anf tho State. ir the amply lat to would ted in is not I i yy/A SIMPLE AI)VL.\1LHI:S Ol- A M l-.M SAll t li. \;eration, which could be com[)uted with accu- racy, was to be found in the out-turn of the mills. There Mr. Batcham knew to a yard how valuable tlu^ Factories Act was to the operatives; but this was not a view of the (piestion upon which he dwelt much in India. While he was with us indeed all iiractical considerations were swallowed up, for Mr. Hatcham, in the contemplation of the profundity of our ini(|uity in allow- ing the factories of this country pretty miicii to manage tlu'ir own alTairs. He did not oven permit himself to consider that the enormous product of Indian looms, together with the cheap- ness of the cost of })roduction, was having a prejudicial ofTect upon the market. lie certainly never mentioned it. His busi- I l8o THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. iiess Wiis with the poor, tlie down-trodden, tlic victims of the rapacity of tlie ca])italist, as mucli among lier ^lajesty's subjects on India's coral strand as in the crowded tenements of !Man- cliester or Birmingliam. Ilis duty towards these unfortunates was phiin, and heaven forbid tluit he shouhl think of anything but Ins duty ! And so Mr. l?at(3ham himented higli and low over the woes of the unprotected factory "hand" in India. He began his lament as soon as ever he was informed — though he knew it before — that protection did not exist ; on the face of it, oppres- sion must then be rampant, lie himself was in the trade, lie knew the temptations of the capitalist, and he would not go so far as to say that, if a wise and just law did not i)revent him, the exigencies of the market would never lead him to be — inconsid- erate—toward his emjiloyes. Reflect then upon the result of al- most unlimited power in the hands of the Indian manufacturer! This being Mr. Batcham's pronounced opinion, even before he gave his personal attention to the subject of Indian manufac- tures, his investigations naturally had the effect of heightening it — one might say tliey were undertaken with that object. They did not heighten it, however, as satisfactorily or as definitely as Mr. Batcham could have wished. After inspecting a cotton factory in Bombay, a woollen factory in Cawnp jre, a jute factory in Calcutta, he found that the notes left too nnich to the imagi- nation ; and it would be useless to appeal to tlie imagination of the House ; the House was utterly devoid of it. True, he had seen hundreds of operatives working in miserable nakedness under the unpitying eye of a Eurasian overseer; but then it was certainly very warm, and the overseer had not been sufficiently considerate to kick any of them in Mr. Batcham's presence. They certainly began early and worked late, but then they .-.io (IB. US of the s subjects J of Man- tortu nates anvtliiiiif r the woes betjan his 3 knew it it, oppres- trade, lie not go so t him, the -inconsid- !sult of al- ufacturer ! en before nianufac- ijrliteniiig let. They initely as a cotton e factory le imagi- nation of e, lie liad akedness en it was .fficiently presence, thev -•'.lo THE SIMPLE ADl'EXrURES OE A MEM SAHIB. igi and slumbered in the middle of the day, chewing betel for casual delectation the rest of the time. Something might possibly be done witii that if he were careful to avoid dwelling upon the siesta, and he would l)e sorry to lay stress upon any trilling amelioration in the coTulition of these poor wretches. Mr. Batcham pondered long upon the betel-nut, but saw no salvation there. If it could be proved that these miserable beings were compelled to resort to an injurious stimulant to keep their flag- ging energies up to the incredible amount of labour required of them — and Mr. Batcham had no doubt whatever that this was the case — it might be useful to cite the betel-nut, but there seemed to be a difficulty about proving it. The only tangible deplorable fact that Mr. Batcham had to go u])on, was that the pay of a full-grown operative, not a woman or a child, but a man, was represented by the shockingly incredible sum of eight annas — eightpcnce! — a dav ! When he heard this ^\\\ Batcham thought of the colossal wages paid to factory hands in England aiul shuddered, lie was so completely occupied in shuddering over this instance of the rapacity of the Indian manufacturer, that the statement of what it cost the same operative to live according to the immemorial custom of his people — about five shillings a month — entirely escaped his observation. \\\ the stress of his emotion ^Ir. Batcham failed to notice one or two other facts that would have tended to alleviate it, the fact that a factory operative is paid twice as much as a domestic servjint and three times as much as a cooly, though the cost of life weighs no more heavily upon him than upon them. Ti)e fact that he often works oidy two or three months of the year at gunny-bags, and spends the rest of his time in the more leisurely and congenial scratching of his fields, and above all, the fact that in India the enterprises of the foreigner accommodate themselves— not of philantrophy but l82 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIB. of necessity — to tlie customs of the country. It is not the service of tlie sahib, with liis few thousand personal establisliments, his few liundred i)iantations and shops, his few dozen factory chim- neys rising along the lloogldy, tainting the sea breeze of Bombay, that can revolutionise their way of life for two hundred and fifty million people with whom custom is religion and religion is more than rice. But Mr. Batcham htid no heart to be comforted by such trivialities, lie made emotic^nal notes, dwelt upon the "eight anna daily pittance," and felt a still more poignant pri- vate grief that there was no cause for louder sorrow. At first Mr. Dabendra Lai Benerjee was inclined to assure his honourable friend that there was not the slightest need for any beneficent interference with the condition of his humble com- patriots, to praise but to deprecate Mr. Batcham's enthusiasm in the matter, and to point out that the only true and lasting eleva- tion of her Majesty's most loyal subjects in India must be brought about through that much maligned and little understood body, the Indian Congress. But it was a very, very short time indeed before Mr. Debendra Lai Banerjce found himself in full union with the noble aims of this British benefactor. He had only to learn — and he learned very quickly — that his sympathy would be appreciated, to bestow it with all the gushing fulness of which the Bengali soul is capable, and Mr. Debendra Lai Bancrjee's sympathy was invaluable to Mr. Batcham. It disclosed points of weakness in the Indian factory system that would otherwise have escaped his observation to this day, and suggested interpretations which no simi)le-minded Briton would have thought of alone. And it divined Mr. Batch im's dissatisfaction that he could not be more dissatisfied with remarkable accuracy. In taking measures — Bengali measures — to secure the sym- pathy of the travelling British M. P. with the grand progres- ^HIB. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OE A MEMSAIIIB. 183 t the service ilimeuts, his ;Ctory chirn- of Bombay, ■ed and fifty jion is more Dmforted by t upon the oi<^nant pri- id to assure ist need for lumble com- thusiasm in isting eleva- ; be brought stood body, time indeed full union lad onlv to ly would be s of whicli Bancrjee's d points of irwise have rpretations of alone. could not the syrii- d progres- i sive movement of Bengali patriotism, it is highly advisable to dis- cover as soon as possible whether he has any little " movement " of his own in contemplation which might receive a slight im- petus with advantage. It is then generally possible to combine the two, to arrange reciprocal favours, to induce the globe-trot- ting potentate to take "broader views." ^Ir. Debendra Lai Banerjee put the whole of his time, and a vocabulary which no English dictionary could improve, at Mr. Batcham's disposal, to convince him that this factory grievance was one of the first whicli the Indian Congress would press upon the ear of the Baj, once it had an official right to make suggestions to that honour- able organ. Although Mr. Banerjee quite agreed with Mr. Batcham that it would be inadvisable to wait until that hap- pened, he would like Mr. Batcham to understand how close the interests of the British manufacturer lay to the bosom of the Indian Congress — though of course Mr. Banerjee designated them as the wrongs of the native operatives. In the meantime, however, his honourable friend was naturally restless, naturally desired to lend his own helping hand to the cause he had at heart. Mr. Banerjee was overcome bv the sublimitv of Mr. Batcham's devotion, and suggested a little evidence acquired per- sonally. If it were possible for Mr. Batcham to converse with any of these unfortunate people ! " It's the terrible disadvantage of not knowing the language ! " responded Mr. Batcham, in a tone which suggested that the lan- guage ought to be supplied to Members of Parliament. " I have conversed with 'em through another man, but it was very unsatisfactory. Couldn't get anything definite. The fact is, Mr. Banerjee, the other man was an Anglo-Indian, and I've no doubt the poor wretches suffered from a sort of unconscious in- timidation ! " 1 84 THE S/.Ur/J-: AD I' EX TV RES OE A MEMSAHin. \- i Mr. BancrJGo shook liis lioiul. The liead liutl a black silk hat on it, and shook as impressively as it might have done in Lom- bard street or Westminster. " I fear," said Mi. Banerjee, " that it is unhappily but too probable." Then he raised his eyebrows in a sadly submissive way, took out his pocket handkerchief and used it in a manner which suggested — very respectfully — a general dcjirecation of Anglo-Indians. Mr. Banerjee must have used it, I think, fortius purpose. I doubt whether he is even yet suffi- cientlv deterionited bv our civilisation to take out his handker- chief seriously " Above all things," added 3[r. Banerjee, thrusting his fat hand into the breast of his tightly-buttoned frock coat, and wrap- ping himself up in the situation, "above all things it is indispen- sable that your evidence shall be unbiassed in every particular. There is no doubt, I de])lore lo tell you, that here in India the poor and the needy amongst us will sometimes be wrongly in- fluenced by the fear of being deprived of the staff of life. I have even known cases where, under unjust and reprehensible intimidation, i}erjnry " — Mr. Banerjee's tone suggested, " I hardly expected you to believe it ! " — " has been committed !" " Dear me, I dare say," said Mr. Batcham, " that happens everywhere." But Mr. Banerjee had more than sentimental reflections upon the moral turpitude of his fellow Aryans to contribute to the difficulty of his honourable friend. He had given his hon- ourable friend's difficulty the very fullest attention. He had chased it through the inqst private labyrinth of his mind, where he had come into sudden and violent contact with Ambica Nath Mitter. And in the joyful shock of collision with Ambica Nath Mitter, Debendra Lai Banerjee had said to himself, " Why didn't I think of him before?" A II in. lack silk liat •no in Lorn- tf icrjeo, that 5 eyebrows in liief and used y — a general have nsed it, ven yet suffi- his handker- isting his fat >at, and wrap- t is indispen- ry particular. ? in India the e wrongly in- ,ff of life. I reprehensible iggested, " I nmitted ! " lat happens id reflections ontribute to iven his hon- Dn. He had mind, where \.mbica Nath imbica Nath Why didn't T/f/-: S/MP/.K ADl'KX'J'l'KKS OF A M EM SAN I H. 185 " TiuTO is a verv intellifjent vouni; man in inv ofVice," said Afr. Huncrjee, "• who was formerly emjtloyed as cleric in a jute mill luMV. I think he would most willingly obtain for you any grievances you nuiy require." Mr. Banerjee spoke absent-miiul- edly, reflecting upon the qualiflcations of Aml)ica for the task. " The statement of them," corrected Mr. Bat<'ham. " The statement of them — precisely, yes. Young Mitter has had all facilities for observing the oppression in the factories, and I have no doubt it made a deep impression upon ids excel- lent heart, lie speaks English also fairly well. 1 will send him to you." " I should like very much to see Mr. Mitter," Mr. Batcham remarked. " Mitter, you said ? " " It will not be necessary to remember his name. Call him ' l^aboo ' ; he will answer to plain ' Baboo.' I am sure he will remember well about the oppressions." "■ I should be even better pleased," said Mr. Batcham, " if he brought two or three of the op]>ressed with him." " I think he could also do that," replied Mr. Banerjee with- out hesitation. Then Mr. Banerjee went away and explained Mr. Batcham's (I'fficulty to Ambica Nath Mitter. Considering how discreetly Mr. Banerjee explained it, the sympathetic perception shown by Ambica Xath Mitter was extraordinary. It might possibly be explained by the fact that they both sj)oke Hindustani. At all events, Mr. Banerjee dismissed the young man of the excellent heart with the comfortable feeling that Mr. Batcham's difficulty would be solved quite inexpensively. Two days after, Ambica presented himself at the residence of the Brownes, accredited to Mr. Batcham by Mr. Debendra Lai Banerjee. Mr. Browne had gone to oflftce, Mrs. Browne had 13 h i! 1 86 '/'///•-' SI Ml' 1.1: .\1)]1:X'ILRI:S (>/■ .1 J/AJ/.S. /////,'. gone to s\u)[). Mr. Butcluim, ruddy and expansive in the tliin- nest of flannels, oecipied a large })ortion of the small veranda alone. The time was most fortuitous, and Mr. Bateham re- eeived Mr. Banerjee's lahour with an agreeable sense of free- dom for the most searehiug investigations. Having well break- fasted, digested the morning paper, and fully sn^oked moreover, Mr. Bateham was in the mood for the most heartrending revela- tions. Ambiea was a prepossessing young man, Mr. J^ateham thought. His lusti-ous long blaek hair was brushed smoothly baek from a forehead that insisted on its guilelessncss. J lis soft brown eyes were timid but trustful, and his ambient tissues si)reail themselves over features of the most engagingly aquiline eharacter. lie was just at the anti-protuberant stage of baboo- dom, there was no offence in his fatness. He wore spotless mus- lin draperies dependent from either shoulder, and his })en behind his ear. In his rear were three others mueh like himself, but less savoury, less lubricated, less comfortable in appearance. They impressed one as less virtuous too, but this was purely the result of adversity. Mr. liatcluim began by asking " Mr. Mitter " to sit down, which Mr. Mitter did with alacrity. Never in his life had ]\[r. Mitter been asked to sit down by a sahib before. Then Mr. Bateham took out his note-book and pencil, and said impressive- ly to ^^r. ]\ritter that above all things these men must under- stand that they were to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth with regard to the matters upon which he was about to question them. Then he questioned them. Perhaps it is unnecessary to go into Mr. Batcham's questions. They were put witli the fluency and precision of a mjin of busi- ness. Ambiea Nath Mitter understood them perfectly, and ex- IH sAHin. in the tliin- iiiiill vt'raiulii Biik'luiin 11'- L'liso of five- L( well brotik- ;('(! moreover, iidiiii; revek- W w Hatcluim lied .smoothly [?ss. J I is soft ibient tissues iiigly jiqiiiline tagc of baboo- spotless niiis- lis })en behind :> himself, but I appearance, •as purely the to sit down, life had Mr. Then :\lr. d impressive- must nnder- e truth, and pon whicli he hem. m's questions, man of busi- 'ectlv, and ex- (C y. 1 88 'I' IN'. SI Ml' IE An\'i:\ri'Ri:s or ./ memsaiiih. I pluiiu'fl tlu'Ui ii(linir;il)ly. 'riioy clicntod cxiictly wliat Mr. liiitclumi wanted to know. His fat, rod hand trembled with avidity as lie set down fact after fact of tlie most " painful " de- scription — or j)ossibiy it was agitated by an iiulignation which Mr. IJateham doubtless could not wholly suppress. And, indeed, the recital of tlie wrojigs which tliese tliree miserable men had suffered under the cruel hanrr. liatcham seriously, ' . vo rupees each would keep you for nearly a month in idleness. You can get employment much sooner than that." Mr. Batcham * Persons. 190 Tim SIMPLE ADVEXrrRES OE A MEMSAIIIH. knitted liis ])liiliiutl»r()i)ic brow, "I'll «ce you aftiT breakfast," lie said, as tlie kitimitgar came to aiuioimee it. The (luestioii of his duty in tlie matter of the six rupees so auritated Mr. Uatcham that lie consulted vouii<; lirowne about it at tlie break fast-taljle, and tliat is the reason wliy it is I, and not Mr. Batcham, who recount ids ex])erience with Ambica ^'ath Mitter to the })ublic. Young Browne heard his guest politely and sy in pathetically through before he ventured to express an opinion. Kven tiien he deferred it. " V\\ have a look at your factory- wallahs," said young Browne. Presently he sent the bearer for them, who came u[) with two. 'J'lie other, he said, had been taken with a sudden indisposition and had gone away. Young Browne put up his eye-glass — he sometimes wore an eye-glass, it was the })urest affectation — and looked at the victims of British oppression in India as they stood with their hands behind them in acute discomfort, twining and untwining their dusty toes. As he looked, a smile api)eared under the eye-glass, which gradual I V broadened and broadened until it knocked the eye-glass out, and young Browne laughed until the tears came into his eyes. " Ifs too good ! " said young Browne brokenly. "It's too good!" and laughed again until Mr. Batcham's an- noyance became serious and obvious and it was necessary to explain. " I don't know what these men may have learned incidentaUy about jute,'' said he wiping his eyes, "but that's not their occu- pation, Mr. Batcham, I — I Inippen to know their faces. They're both umid wallahs in Watson and Selwyn's, indigo people, next door to our place." "Dear me, are you sure?'" asked Mr. Batcham with a judi- cial contraction of his evebrows. " What is an umidwallah ?" ////>'. /■///•; SIMri.E An VEX TV RES OE A MEMSAIIIR. iqi l)iviikfa.st," : nipeos so le about it 1, and not ibica Nath 3st politely express an lok at your sent the ■r, he said, had gone L's wore an :he victims lieir hands iiing their eye-glass, ocked the ears came brokenly. lam's an- 3essary to '■iilcnt((lhj leir occu- They're ">ple, next li a judi- 3ah?" " Uniid means hope — a man of hope. Tliey come and ask to work in tiie otiice as a favour, and don't get any j)ay, expecting i § THE OTHER HAD BEEN TAKEN Wrru A srUDKX INDISPOSITION' AND HAD GONE AWAV. to be taken on in case of a vacancy. These scoundrels have been in Watson and Selwyn's for the last year. 1 venture to state they've never been inside a jute mill in their lives." 192 riir. SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OE A MEMSAI//B. i il !i '' Tumera kam, k'on liai?" * asked young Browne mockingly of one baboo. Tlie baboo cast down his eyes nervously and said, " Wasson >5ewwin (;oni])any /capas, sahib,'''' j; and the other to the same question made the same answer. They were crushed and sorrow- ing baboos suffering under a cruel blow of fate. Why siiould it have been granted to only one of them to conclude to be indis- posed at the right moment ? I am afraid the savage Anglo-Indian instinct arose in young Bro^'ne and caused him to tease those baboos a little that morn- ing. It was very wrong of him doubtless, and then it led to the destruction of a number of Mr. Batcham's most interesting notes, which is another regretable fact. But the only person who really suffered was Ambica Nath Mitter. Mr. Batcham, of course, thought it his duty to inform Mr. Debendra Lai Banerjee of the whole unfortunate affair, and Mr. Debendra Lai Banerjeo, in a white heat of indignation, which lasted several days, dis- missed Ambica. " IIow could I repose further trust in a man like that ! " said Mr. Banerjee to ]\Ir. Batcham. Besides, privately, Mr. Banerjee thought Ambica grasping. Mr. Banerjee had entirely intended that out of the five rupees Ambica received from him, the " fac- tory wallahs" should be paid in full. * Your work, what is it ? f With Watson Sc4wyu Company. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 193 >c'kin<^lv Wiissou le sjinie sorrow- rnoultl it JO iiulis- n young lit niorii- ?d to the tcivstiiig y person cliJini, of Banerjee UjuuTJee, lays, dis- t ! " said Banerjee ntendcd Ihe " fac- kanv. otlier. (ilAlTKk XVII. S*J)OT|i<)CIALLY, as I have said, Mr. Ratcham repre- sented one of our cold weather phenomena. They remain phenomena, the globe-trotters, notwithstanding the regularity of their re- ap])earance, flashing like November comets across the tranquil Anglo-Indian mind, which refuses to accustom itself to one class of its heavenly visitors any more than to the It is inaccurate, however, to use any tigure jf speech whicii represents ACr. Hatcham as a meteoric body, lie had his prescribed orbit — it is all laid down in Murray — and he circled through it. revolving regularly upon the axis of an excellent digestion with great gravity of demeanor. When he appeared upon Calcutta's horizon, Calcutta could only })ut up a hel})les8 eyeglass and writhe wearily until the large red luminary dipped again \\\ the west. Then for a week it set at nought and mocked him. Then it unanimously forgot him, and was only reminded of his unnecessary existence afterward by the acerbity of the E}iijUshman'*s comments upon his intelligence, which was entirelv deserved. It was interesting to watcli Mr. Batcham in the process of forming an opinion of Anglo-Indian society ; that is, of making his observations match the rags and tags of ideas about us which he had gathered togetlier from various popular sources before fK TJT I I I'r ll i I 1 ! t ;; III !l i ! 194 77/A" SIMPLE AD]' EX TURKS OF A MEM SAHIB. coming out. Tliey were eiirioiis, Mr. Batehiiin's impressions, and they led him into even greater discreetness of conduct than would naturally be shown by one of the largest manufacturers of the North of England, of sound evangelical views and inordinate abdominal development, travelling in search of Truth. \\\ tlie doubtful mazes of the flipi)ant Anglo-Indian capital Mr. Batcham felt that it behoved him to wrap the capacious mantle of his virtue well about him and to be very heedful of his walk and conversation, lie kept a sharp eye open for invitations to light and foolish behaviour on the part of possible Mrs. llawksbees and Mrs. Mallowes whom he met at Government House, and he saw a great many. When Lady Blebbins asked him if Mrs. Batcham were with him, Mr. Batcham said to himself, " There is certainly something beliind thut ! " and when Mrs. Walter Lulf, who is as jJi'oper as pro2)er can be, proposed to drive him about the Maidan in her barouche, Mr. Batcham said coyly but firmly that Mrs. Luff must excuse him for asking, but was her husband to be of the party? Some such nncompromising front Mr. l^atcham showed to temptation in forms even more insidi- ous than these. I need not say that he never in any ease failed to make a careful note of it ; and I have no doubt that long be- fore this reaches you the glaring facts will have been confided with inculpating initials to the sympathetic British public through the columns of the Times over the bashful signature of Jonas Batcham. Mr. Batcham saw no reason for concealing his preconceived ideas of Anglo-liulian society from any of the Anglo-Indians he met — our morals embarrassed him as little as he supposed that they embarrassed us. lie discussed them with us in candid sor- row, he enquired of us about them, he told us exactly to what extent he considered the deterioration of the ethical sense B. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTl'KES OE A MEM SAHIB. 195 ressions, ict thiiu turers of ordinate 111 the Biitcluim [e of liis ^iilk and s to light avvksbees }, and he I if Mrs. ', " There s. Walter Irive him coyly but t was her ing front re insidi- ase failed long be- confided |h public nature of conceived idians he |>osed that indid sor- y to what }al sense amongst us was to be ascribed to the climate. He spoke calmly and dispassionately about these things, as an indifferent foreigner might speaK about the exchange value of the rupee or the quality of Peliti's ices, lie seemed to think that as a subject of conver- sation we should rather like it, that his investigations would have a morbid interest for us. It was reported tluit he ap- proached an A. 1). C. in uniform with the tentative renuirk that he believed Simla was a very immoral i)lace, and that the A. I). C. in uniform made with great difficulty three wrinkles in his forehead — it is almost impossible for an A. 1), ('. in uniform to wrinkle himself — and said with calm surju'ise, " We are Simla," subsequently reporting the matter to the Viceroy and suggesting the bastinado. The stoiy adds that tiie Viceroy said that nothing could be done, because an M. P. was certain to go home and tell. But this is the merest rumour. ^Ir. Batcham found the Brownes disappointing in this re- spect as he found them disappointing in other respects. They were not extravagant, they were not in debt, and Mrs. Browne neither swore nor smoked cigarettes nor rode in steeplechases. ^fr. Batcham investigated them until he found them quite hope- lessly proper, when he put them down as the shining and praise- worthy exception that proves the rule, and restricted his en- quiries to the private life of their neighbours. Thus, driving upon the Tied Road in the evening and encountering a smart young pair in a cabriolet, Mr. Batcham would demand, " Who is that lady ? " "That's Mrs. Finsley-Jones," ^Frs. Browne would reply. " And with whom," Mr. Batcham would continue severely, " is Mrs. Finsley-Jones driving?" " With Mr. Finslev-.Tones." Ig6 TIJE SlMri.E A DV EX TURKS OE A MEMSAIIIB. A I I I li: " Oh — ah ! uiid wlio is that lady in the straw hat ou tlie grey cob ? " "Mrs. MacDonald, 1 think/' " And tlie gentleman ? " " Her husband." " lieally ! yon are quite sure it is her husband, Mrs. Browne. I understood that in India ladies seldom rode with their hus- bands." "■ On the contrary, Mr. Batcham," Helen returned innocently, " horses are apt to be so skittisli in India that it isn't really safe to go out without a nuin, and of course one would rather have one's husband than anybody else." " Not at all, I assure you, Mrs. Browne. I understand that quite the opposite oi)inion prevails among the ladies of Calcutta, and I can depend upon the source of my information. Now these two people in the dog cart — they are actually flirting with each other iu broad daylight ! It is impossible," said Mr. Batcham, with an accent of grave deprecation, " that they can be married." "M:. and Mrs. Tubbs," said Helen shortly, "they were mar- ried about the same time as we were. Why shouldn't they flirt with each other if they want to '? " " Certainly not," said young Browne, who was driving. " It leads to incorrect ideas of their relations, you see. Fact is, I caught Tubbs kissing his wife in a dark corner of the Maidan by the Cathedral myself the other evening, and it was such a very dark corner that if I hadn't happened to be lighting a cheroot at the time, 1 wouldn't have believed that Tubbs was Tubbs any more than ]\Ir. Batcham does. Tubbs can't afford a popular misapprehension that he isn't ^Irs. Tubbs's husband. I'll tell Tubbs." //IB. )u the grey 77//'.' SIM PL/-: AI)rK.\"/'i'AW-:s OF A MEMSAHIH. •97 I'S. Browne, their liiis- innocently, really safe rather have rstaiid that uf Calcutta, tioii. Now iirting with ' said Mr. it they can were mar- I't they flirt Iving "It Fact is, I iMaidan by |uch a very cheroot at [rubbs any a popular ni tell "I think," said llel"n rebukingiy, "that yon might have taken some otlier place to light your cigar in, (icorge." " Didn't light it. Dropped the match, I was so startled. Last matcli I had, too. I've got that against 'L'ubbs. Oh, I must speak to Tubbs I " "If you speak to Tubbs," Mr. Hatchiim i)ut in prudently, "don't mention my mime. I am glad to fiiul myself wrong in this case. But Mr. lianerjoe assures me — " The pony leaped forward under the cut of young Browne's whip, and Mr. I>atcham very nearly tumbled out <>f the back seat. Young lirowne didn't apologise. "Do you m. an to sav," said he in a red fury, ""^hat you have been talking to a beastly baboo about the white women of Calcutta ? It — it isn't usual." It was as much for their own amusement as for their guest's edification that the Brownes asked Mr. Sayter to dinner to meet Mr. Batcham. Mr. Sayter came unsuspectingly, and I have reason to believe that he has not yet forgiven the Brownes. Xobodv in Calcutta could hate a large red globe-trotter more ferociously than Mr. Sayter did. And the Brownes failed to palliate their offence by asking anybody else. They were a square party, and Mr. liatcham sat opposite ^Ir. Sayter, who went about afterwards talking about his recent narrow escape from suffocation. Mr. Batcham welcomed Mr. Sayter as if he had been in his own house or his own " works." He shook ^Ir. Sayter warmly by his slender and frigid hand and said he was delighted to meet him — it was always a pleasure to meet representative men, and his young friends had told him that Mr. Sayter was a very representative man indeed, standing almost at the head of his department. \\'<\ 198 7^//^' SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. " Oh, goodness gracious ! " exclaimed Mr. 8ayter, sinking into a chair. " Fancy being tallved about like that now." " I have a thousand tilings to ask you," continued Mr. Batch- am with increasing cordiality, " a thousand questions are surg- ing in my brain at this very moment. This India of yours is a wonderful place, sir ! " " Well," said Mr. Sayter, "I suppose I can't help that. But it isn't as wonderful as it used to be — that's one comfort." "I'm afraid," Mr. Batcham remarked with seriousness, "that your eyes are blinded. I've met numbers of people out here — people of more than average perception — whose eyes seem to me to be blinded to the beauties of Ind." " Probably affected by the dust of Ind," put in young Browne. " Will you take my wife in, ]\Ir. Sayter? " " No," said ^Ir. Sayter, " it's the perverseness of the Anglo- Indian. He thinks if he talks about the beauties of Ind the Secretary of State will cut his pay." " And yet," said Mr. Batcham, tucking his napkin into his capacious waistcoat, " the average public official in this country seems to me to be pretty fairly remunerated." " As a matter of fact," said ]Mr. Sayter confidentially, looking up from his soup, " they're grossly overpaid. They live in lux- ury. I am one of them. I live in luxury. I have a servant to put on my boots. In England what action should I be obliged to take in regard to my boots? I should be obliged to put them on myself ! And for the misfortune of living in a country where I get my boots put on, I'm paid twice as much as I would be in England, and three times as much as I'm worth. Monstrous, isn't it?" Mr. Batcham smiled a benign smile of approbation. " I as- sure you, sir, that is not the way the situation has been repre- AH IB. sinking into I Mr. Butch- is are surg- f yours is a ) that. But fort." sness, " that out here — seem to nie ing Browne. the Anglo- of Ind the in into his lis country ly, looking ive in lux- servant to be obliged 2)nt them ntry where ould be in Monstrous, 7J/E SIMPLE ADVEXI'l'RES OE A MEMSAIIIE. 1 199 n. (( I as- een repre- sented to me thus far. I hope that before 1 leave India 1 may meet other gentlemen who like yourself have the moral rectitude to rise above mere considerations of gain — 1 may say of plunder — and state tho case frankly as it is. With regard to yourvself 1 liave no doubt you exaggerate, but I will tell you candidly that I have myself for some time held the same opinion precisely witli regard to — with regard to — " " The Indian services generally. Exactly," responded Mr. Sayter, " and when you get home you mean to bring it under the consideration of I^ord Kimberley. Quite so. I wouldn't l)e too sanguine about popularizing your view among the Europeans out here — the Anglo-Indian is a sordid person — but all tho baboos will l)e vory pleased. You will of course endeavour to extend the emplovment of baboos in the hidier branches of the Covenanted service — the judicial and administrative. They come much cheaper, and their feelings are very deeply hurt at being overlooked in favour of the alien Englishman. You could get an excellent baboo for any purpose on earth for thirty rupees a month. And yet," continued Mr. Sayter absently, " they pay me two thousand." Mr. Batcham looked reflective, and young Browne said, " Cheap and nasty." " Oh, dear no ! " remarked Mr. Sayter, " A nice fat wholesome baboo who could write a beautiful hand— probably a graduate of the Calcutta University. Talking of universities reminds me to add, Mr. Batcham, that the university baboo is not quite so cheap as he used to be. He is still very plentiful and very inex- pensive, but his price is going up since the new regulations." " Regulations ! " said Mr. Batcham. " You j)eople will regu- late these unfortunate natives off the face of the earth." " We should love to," replied Mr. Sayter, " but we can't. You « • 200 rill': siMPLi-: advex tures or a memsahih. have no idea of their rate of multiplication. Those i)articular regulatiojis were a frightful blow to the baboo." "May 1 ask their nature?" ^[r. Hatchani in(iuired. " Oh yes. They were connected with the cxsiminations for degrees. It was thought remarkable for some time how univer- sally the baboos passed them, and how singularly similar the answers were. The charitable put it down to tiie extraordinary ai)titude of the Bengali for the retention of })rinted matter and the known tendency of his mind to run in grooves. The un- charitable put the other baboos in charge of printing the exami- nation papers under a mean system of espionage. I regret to say that it was oidy too successful ; they caught a whole batch of baboos taking the means of earning an honest living a little i)re- maturely." " Then what happened ? " asked young Browne. " 1 haven't heard this story." " I don't remember whether they suppressed that lot of ba- boos or not. But they put an end to the extra edition of exami- nation papers system. They had the lithographing stone brought into an office where there was only one man, a Euro- pean, and they shut the shutters and they locked the door — oh, they took stringent measures ! — and they had the papers turned oflf by a coolie, in solemn secrecy, the day before the examina- tion." " That must have been entirely satisfactory," Mr. Batcham remarked. " It was not. The baboos passed in great numbers that year and sent in their papers with a smile. Then I believe they stopped up the key-hole and blindfolded the coolie. It made no difference whatever." "How did they find out?" Helen asked. T 10 particular (I. illations for liow luiivcr- siniiiar tlio X t mo I'd i nary matter and ?s. Tlie un- ;5 the oxami- I regret to lole batch of a little pre- " I haven't at lot of ba- )n of exami- )hing stone lan, a Enro- le door — oh, ipers turned 10 examina- r. Batch am rs that vear )elieve they It made no THE SlMri.E ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAI//B. 20I " In the end they took to watching this simple, ignorant coolie. And they observed that when he had finisiied his work lie invariably sat down and rested on the litliograi)liing stone. So that he went away charged, one might say, with the wisdom of the examiners, and published himself in the bazar for I dare- say four annas a copy." " That boy, if he lived in the United States, would rise to be liresident," remarked Mr. Batcham oracularly. " He was of great assistance to the li. A.'s of that year. Though I believe they found him rather bony for a satisfactory proof, and they complained that the sense of the questions was a little disconnected." " Mrs. Browne, have you seen anything of the Tootes lately?" " Nobody has, Mr. Sayter. Mr. Toote has fever." " Temperature one hundred and five this morning," said Mrs. Browne. " The third attack this year." " And the Archie Campbells are going home on sick leave," added Helen. " Poor Mr. Campbell is down wich abscess of the liver. There's a great deal of sickness about." " Not more than usual ; it's a deadly time of year," Mr. Sayter leinarked. " You heard about Bobby Hamilton?" " Hamilton seedy ? " inquired young Browne. " I saw him riding a fine beast the day before yesterday — he looked fairly fit. Hamilton's a very knowing chap about horses, lie's promised to look after a pony for my wife." " You'll have to get somebody else, I'm afraid." " Hamilton's not " " Y''es. Went to the funeral this morning. Fine chap. Aw- ful pity. Cholera." " And Mrs. Hamilton is at home ! " exclaimed Helen. "With another baby. Yes. Four now, Hamilton told me 14 i ' i 202 Tlil'- SIMri.E ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAllIH. i ! : hist liot woutlier. lleM boon seedy, and I wus urging liiin to take fiirloiigli." "■ Wliy didn't lie? It miglit have saved liim," asked Ihden. " I Ijeliove the fourth l>ahy was tlie reason. He couldn't allord it. Had to stay and grill, poor chap." " How very distressing," said Mr. liatcham. " T suppose the widow will 1)0 able to live on her ])ension':' " "• She will receive no pension, sir. Mr. Hamilton belonged to the Education l)e})artnient, which is uncovenauted. In the uncovcnanted service it is necessary to live in order to enjoy one's pension, and that is the reason why its departments add so little to the taxes." " Ah, well," said Mr. Batcham rather vaguely, " you can't have your cake and eat it too. I should consider marriage under those conditions an improvidence, and I don't understand people being ill in this climate. I think it must be largely due to the imagination. So far as mif testimony is worth anvMiing, I find myself much benefited by it. Thanks, Browne, I'll have Bass. Vm not afraid of it." Young Browne smiled and wistfully drank half the unsatis- factory contents of the long glass by his plate. " To say nothing," said he, in mournful reference to the cli- mate, " of the magnificent thirst it engenders." Mr. Sayter joined his hands together at the finger tips and looked at Mr. Jonas Batcham, M. P., from under his eyebrows in a way which was certainly impertinent, oblivious of the kit- mutgar at his elbow who patiently offered him iced asparagus. " I'm perfectly certain," said he, with a crispness in every syllable, " that Mr. Batcham has been benefited by staying six weeks in India. If he stayed six years he would doubtless be more benefited still. I daresay, as he says, we would all be bene- (SAlIlli. THE siMri.n AJ)r/:x7'CA'i:S ()/• ./ MEM SAN in. 203 urging him to iiskcd Helen. He couldn't T suppose the Iton belonged nted. In the rder to enjoy tnients add so y, "you can't larriago under 3rstand })eopIe ely duo to the yMiing, I find '11 have ]5ass. f the unsatis- ce to the di- nger tips and lis eyebrows IS of the kit- asparagus. ess in every staying six doubtless be all be bene- > tited if it were not for our imaginations, it's a climate that leaves only one thing to be desired, and if some peoj)le say that's a eoflin, that is clearly their imagination. Tneovenanted people have a way of dying jnvtty freely, but that's out of sheer per- verseness to get more furl(>ugh. Most of them go for ever be- cause they can't arrange it any other way. And as for cholera, 1 give you my word not one man in te?i dies of cholera out here; they go off with typhoid or dysentery, or in some comfortable way like that, and probably have a punkah the whole time they're ill." The half-i)ast nine gun boomed from the fort, and Mr. Hatch- am started nervously. " I don't know why it is," said he, "tliat one doesn't accustom one's self to hearing guns in India. I suppose it is some association with the Mutiny." " Oh, we'll have another mutiny," Mr. Sayter remarked ; " it's quite on the cards. But you must not be alarmed, Mr. Hatcham. It won't be," he added irrepressibly, " till after you go home." The conversation turned upon light literature, and Mr. Batch- am contributed to it the fact that he understood that man Besant was fnaking a lot of money. Helen had been reading the memoirs of Mdlle. Bashkirtscff, and had to say that one half she didn't understand, and the other half she didn't like. " And when," said Mr. Sayter, " does your book come out, Mr. Batcliam ? " " I haven't said that I was writing one," Mr. Batcham re- l)lied, smiling coyly. " It isn't necessary," declared young Browne, " we should ex- pect a book from you, Mr. Batcham, as a matter of course." " Oh, well, I expect I shall have to own to some little account of my experience," confessed Mr. Batcham. " My friends have 204 '^'11' ^l-'^II'll- Ani-ENTURES 01- A MEMSAllUi. tl ' k I urged 1110 to do sonu'tliin<^' of tlio kind. If tlu' illiistnitions can be j(ot ready, 1 dare.say it will be out in time to catch the spring nuirket." " Don't forget tlie illustration of the cobra milking the cow," said (Jeorge Hrowne, infected by Mr. Sayter; "it will add a great deal to the interest of the volume without detractiiiff seriouslv from its reliability." " No," said Mr. liatcham, " I haven't got a photograph of that, I'm sorry to say. The illustrations will be entirely repro- duced from i)hotographs. I've got a beauty of the Taj, taken by imignesium light." " Have you decided on a title, Mr. Batcham ? " Helen inquired, playing with the orange-blossom in her finger-bowl. Mr. Batcham looked carefully round him, and observed that the kitmutgars liad left the room. " Don't mention it," he said, "because somebody else may get hold of it, but 1 think I'll christen the book either ' My Trot Through India,' or ' India, Its Past, Present, and Future.' " " Capital ! " exclaimed Mr. Sayter, skipping nimbly to hold back the purdah for the exit of Mrs. Browne. " Vou can't really dispense with either title, and if I were you I should use them both ! " A little later, before Mr. Sayter disappeared into his brough- am, exploding a vast yawn among the wreaths of his Trichi- nopoly, Mr. Batcham shook him warmly by the liand, and re-ex- pressed his gratification at the ojiportunity of meeting so repre- sentative a gentleman, to whose opinions such great importance would naturally attach itself. " Joking apart," said Mr. Batch- am, "the candid statement of your views upon many points this evening will be very useful to me." " I'm so glad ! " said Mr. Sayter. sAuin, ' Till-. SIMPLL AlU-EXrrRES 01- A Ml.MSAHlH, 205 iistratioiis can :ch tliu s|)riiig iii<,' tliu cow," ill add 11 great ting seriously •liotograph of 'iitircly ropro- Taj, taken by elen inquired, observed tliat lU it," he said, t 1 think I'll or ' India, Its nibly to liold m can't really )uld use them liis brough- his Trichi- d, and re-ex- ng so repre- importance Mr. Batch- many points 4 M I 11 CIIAPTKU XVIII. KLP'X HKOWXK never could be brought to understajid that she was not rich with live hundred rupees a month. Kvery now aiul then she reduced the amount — reduced it indeed, with the rupee at one and twopence I — to pounds, shillings, and pence, in order to assure herself over again tliat it was oidy a little less than the entire stijiend of the C'anbury rectory, "and we all lived upon that," she would argue, as if she had there some- wliat unanswerable. It was to her a source of continual and lamentable mystery that they never seemed to find it convenient to open a bank account — it was so unwise not to have a bank account — and yet there was always what George Krowne called a " negative difficulty," always something to be paid first. On the last davs of everv month when it came to balancing the accounts and finding nothing over, Mrs. Browne regularly cut the bawarchi six pice on general principles, for which he as regularly cjime prepared. Kali Bagh cooked nothing better tlian his jiccounts. Besides this she had her evening gloves cleaned, and saved the price of a ticca dhurzie, which is at least eight an.ias, every Sat- urday by doing the family darning, and this, in a mem.sahib, is saintly. Certainly the Brownes were not extravagant. Helen used to maintain that the remarkable part of it was vegetables being so cheap, but there was probably more force in her reflec- tion that it didn't really matter much about getting a cauliflower for a penny when one's ticca gharries came to three pounds. It i I II ' I "i 206 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. was mucli more curious to observe how exactly every month the Ikownes' exjieiises met their income witli i)erluips just a trifle now and tlien to spare, wliich tliey might put away if they Hked, unreceipted, to be a nest-egg for a comfortable debt in the near future — the fact being that Kasi and Kali Bagh and the rest knew the sahib's tulab as well as they knew tiieir own, and were all good at arithmetic to the splitting of a pi. It is perhaps a tribute to the perfection of their skill tluit they never disturbed Helen's idea that she was very well off. When the rupees disap- peared more (juickly than usual, she thought of the price of vege- tables and was convinced that retrenchments were possible and should soon be effected. Next month Kasi would permit himself to forget various trifling bills, and there would be great prosperity with the Brownes for a fortnight. But invariablv there came a time of reckoning when Kasi demonstrated that the income was very nearly equal to the outgo. On the whole Kasi was contented with the sahib's present pay, having great faith in his prospects of promotion. Barring accidents, Kasi's speculations upon the financial future of the Brownes were very perfectly adjusted. It was the elusive bank account that induced them to listen to the Jack Lovitts, who lived in Park-street in a bigger house than they could afford. " We can perfectly well let you have the top flat," said Mrs. Jack Lovitt at the end of the cold weather, " and it will be that much off our rent besides being a lot cheaper for you. You see we could divide the mallie and the sweeper," said Mrs. Lovitt, enunciating this horror quite callously, "and that would be an advantage. Then we might have one leg of mutton between us, you know, and that sort of thing — save a lot of bazar." " But should you like to have somebody living over your head? " asked Helen, pondering over the idea. SAIIIB. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTl'RES OE A MEMSAIfin. 207 sry month the 3 just a trifle if they liked, »t in the near and the rest »wn, and were is perliaps a ver disturbed rupees disap- priee of vege- l)ossible and crmit himself ?at prosperity there came a e income was ras contented his prospects ins upon the Ijusted. em to listen )ig2:er house ^ou have the old weather, lot cheajier le sweeper," luslv, "and SI ' one leg of —save a lot over your "Of course not," replied Mrs. Lovitt candidly, "who would? But if we mean to go on leave next year we've got to do some- thing. Jack's eight hundred simply vanishes in our haiuls. Last month, Helen Browne, our bill from Peliti alone was a hundred and ten — beast ! If Jack wouldn't insist on ariviiiir ice to his polo ponies I think we migb^ get on. \\\\i you can't reason with him about it. Ile'U come home with a broken neck from tliat polo one of these days. And we haven't earned anything a})proaehing a decent pension yet, and my com])lexion's absolutely gone," added this vivacious lady, who liked saying these insincere tilings to her "young friend Mrs. Browne," wb'- began at tliis time to be amused by them. '^ I've done my little uttermost," ^Irs. Lovitt continued. "This noujjat is filthv, isn't it? I'll never leave mv dear Peliti Mgain ! " The ladies were tiffining together in a luxury of soli- tude. " I've sold three frocks." "Xo!" said Helen. "Which?" " That vieux rose brocade that I got out from home for the Drawing-Room — the more fool I ! — and that gray shimmery crc'iie that you like; and anotlier, a mouse-coloured sort of thing, with gold bands, that I don't think you know — I've never had it on. Frifri sent it home with a bill for a hundred and tifty if you please — and I gave her the foundation. However, I've been paid for it, and Frifri hasn't, and she can jolly well wait ! " " What did you get for it? " asked Helen. " Eighty-five— wasn't I lucky ? That new little :^[rs. Xiblit— .pite or indigo or something — heaps of money. Lady Blebbins bought the other two for Julia. She's up in Allahabad, you know, where the fact of my having swaggered around in tliem all season won't make any difference. What a pretty little flannel blouse that is of vours, mv dear — I wish 1 could afl'ord one like it !" 2o8 ^'^^^- SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. I, . <■■ " It cost three eight altogether," said Mrs. Browne, " the dhurzie made it last week. He took two days, but I think he dawdled." " Three eight's a good deal, I think, for a blouse," returned Mrs. Lovitt, the exj)erienced. " Dear me, what a horrible thing it is to be poor! And nothing but boxes in that upper flat! Three rooms and two bath-rooms, going, going, gone — I wish it were ! What do you say, Mrs. Browne ? Ninety-five rupees only ! " " It's cheap," said Helen ; " I'll ask George." She did ask George, at the shortest possible intervals for three days, and when the subject had been allowed to drop for a quarter of an hour George asked iier. It became the supreme question, and the consideration they devoted to it might have revised the Permanent Settlement or decided our right to occupy the Pamirs. There were more pros and cons than I have patience to go into, and I daresay they would have been discussing it still, if Mrs. Browne had not thought fit to decline her breakfast on the morning of the third day. Whereat young Browne suspected fever — he hoped not typhoid — but the place certainly smelt feverish, now that he came to smell it — and there was no doubt that it would be an economy to take Mrs. Lovitt's flat, and forth- with they took it. Moving house in India is a light affliction and but for a moment. The sahib summoned Kasi, and announced to him that the change would be made to-morrow, "and in thy hand all things will be." Kasi received particulars of tlie address in Park-street, salaamed, saying "Very good," and went away more sorrowful than he seemed, for he was comfortable and mighty where he was, and change was not often a good thing. Besides, AH IB. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIli. 209 owne, " the I think he 3," returned rrible thing upper flat ! ! — I wish it -five rupees itervals for ) drop for a lie supreme might have t to occupy ence to go I it still, if ast on the suspected inly smelt no doubt and forth- )ut for a id to him thy hand id dress in way more d mighty Besides, he knew Lovitt sahib that he had a violent temper and repre- hensible modes of speech — it might not be good to come often under the eye of Lovitt sahib. And he would be obliged to tell the mallie his friend that it would be to depart, which would split his heart in two. However, it was the sahib's will and there was nothing to say, but a great deal to do. Moreover, there might be backsheesh, which alleviated all things. Next morning the Brownes found themselves allowed one table and two chairs for breakfast purposes, and six coolies sat without, dusty and expectorant, waiting for those. Kasi, at the gate, directed a departing train, each balancing some portion of their worldly goods upon his head, Kasi, watchful and stern, the protector of his master's property. The dining-room was dis- mantled, the drawing-room had become a floor space enclosed by hiirh white walls with nail marks in them. There was a little heap of torn paper in one corner, and cobwebs seemed to have been spun in the night in half the windows. " It's pure magic ! " TIelen exclaimed. " It's to-day week, and I've been asleep," and then " We've been awfully happy here, George," — an illogical statement to accompany wet eyelashes. Even while they sat on their single chairs at their single table, which George put his elbows on, to secure it he said, the bedroom furniture decamped with many footsteps, and after the meal was over there was nothing left to testify of them but their hats laid conspicuously on a sheet of paper in the middle of the drawing-room floor, " I suppose," said young Browne, " they think we've got brains enough to carry those over ourselves." Mrs. Browne put hers on and drove her husband to office. Then she shopped for an hour or two, and finished up by coming to tiffin with me. Then she repaired to Park-street, I li ■ !! I l! IK I !| 2IO THE SLMPLE ADVEXTCRES OF A MEM SAHIB. where she found herself ostji])li^hed in the main, with Kasi still superintending, his locks escajjing from his turban, in a state of THEIR HATS LAID CONSI'K TOrsLV OX A SHEET OK PAPER. extreme perspiration. Then she made Ji dainty afternoon toilet with great comfort, and by the time young Browne came home 5: .!: ;li THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAI/IB. 2II to tea it was quite ready for liiin in every respect, even to the wife behind the teapot, in circumstances which, except for tlie pictures and the bric-a-brac, might be described as normal. And of course, being an insensate sahib, he congratuhited liis wife — it was prodigious, and all her doing ! Kasi was also com- mended, however, and the praise of his master fell pleasantly on the ear of Kasi, who immediately added another rupee to the amount he meant to charge for coolie-hire. Thus is life allevi- ated in India; thus do all its material cares devolve into a hun- dred brown hands and leave us free for our exalted occupations or our noble pleasure. We are unencumbered by the considera- tion of so much as a button. Tnder these beatitudes the average Anglo-Indian career ought to be one of pure spirit and intellect, but it is not so — not singularly so. " What we must be thoroughly on our guard against," said young Browne in the top flat at his second cup, " is seeing too much of the Lovitts. They're not a bad sort if you keep them at a proper distance ; I don't believe for an instant there's any harm in little Mrs. Jack ; but it won't do to be too intimate. They'll be as troublesome as sparrows if we are." "There's one thing we'll have to look out for," said Mr. Jack Lovitt in the bottom flat at his third mnflin, "and that is being too chummy with the Brownes; they're all riglit so long as they stay upstairs, but we won't encourage them to come down too often. We'll have Mrs. B. gushing all over the place if we do. They'll have to understand they've only rented tlie top flat." "They'll always know what we have for dinner," romark(Hl the spouse in the top flat. " They'll sec every soul that comes to the house," said the spouse in the bottom flat. i I l| I II 11 ;>; 1 il ! '*!' i 212 ^V/A' SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIH, " It isn't the slightest concern of tlieirs," repHcd the lord upstairs. " It's absolutely none of their business," returned the lord downstairs. And they were both " blowed " if they would tolerate the slightest interest in their respective affairs. The Brownes con- cluded that " perhaps once a month " would be often enough to ask the Lovitts to come up and dine, and the Lovitts thought the Brownes might come in to tea "once in three weeks or so." Before this they had been in the habit of entertaining each other rather oftener, but then they were not under the same roof, with a supreme reason for establishing distance. ]\Irs. Browne believed that on the whole she wouldn't engage Mrs. Levitt's dhurzie — it might lead to complications ; and Mrs. Lovitt fancied she had better not offer Helen that skirt-pattern — it would necessitate endless discussions and runnings up and down. Mrs. Lovitt deliberately arranged to go up to see Helen for the first time with her hat and gloves on, to make it obvious that the call should be formally returned. Helen sent down a note, beautifully written and addressed, to ask Mrs. Lovitt to come to tea on Wednesday afternoon, at a quarter past five. The ladies left no little thing undone, in fact, that would help to quell a tendency to effusion ; they arranged to live as remotely from each other as the limits of No. 01, Park-street, permitted. The Brownes had always the roof and habitually sent chairs up there. " They can't say we haven't rented it," said Helen. Their precautions not to be offensive to each other were still more elaborate. Mr. Browne ascertained at what time Mr. Lovitt went to office, and made a habit of starting a quarter of an hour earlier. Mrs. Lovitt, observing that the Brownes were fond of walking in the compound in the evening, walked there A II IB. ied tlie lord ed tlie lord tolerate tlie •ownes con- 1 enough to tts thought eks or so." iiiing each * the same mce. :Mrs. igage Mrs. and Mrs. irt-pattern igs up and see Helen it obvious t down a ovitt to last five. d help to remotelv ermitted. lairs up n. ere still me Mr. arter of es were 3d there THE SIMPLE ADVEXTCRLS OE A MEM SAHIB. 213 always in the morning. Neither of them would give any orders to the mallie, whom they jointly paid, for fear of committing an unwarrantable interference, and that functionary grew fat and lazy, while the weeds multiplied in the gravel walks. Helen even went so far as to use the back staircase to avoid a possible encounter at the front door, but young Browne disapproved of til is. lie Ijelieved in abating no jot or tittle of their lawful claims. " Use the staircase freely, my dear," said he, " but do not engage in conversation at the foot of it." \ They assumed a bland ignorance of each other's affairs, more discreet than veracious. When Mrs. Lovitt mentioned that they had had a lot of people to dinner the night before, Helen said, '"'Had you?" as if she had not heard at least half a dozen car- riages drive up at dinner time ; as if she had not decided, she and George, indifferent upon the roof, that the trap which drove oft' so mucli later than the others must have been Jimmy Forbes's. And they would be as much surprised, these two ladies, at meet- ing anywhere else at dinner as if they had not seen each other's name inscribed in the peon book that brought the invitations, and remarked each of the other, at the time, " It seems to me we see enough of those people at home." They were a little ridiculous, but on the whole they were very wise indeed, and the relations that ensued were as polite and as amiable as possible. It was like living on the edge of a volcano, taking the precaution of throwing a pail or two of water down every day or two. And nothing happened. li 'i I nil in i I ; : 1 i I u ! f* 214 77//:- SIMPLE AD VEX TURKS OF A MEM SAHIB. CHAPTER XIX. 0™iNG happened. Thus for three montlis, tliree hot weather montlis. The pimkah waUahs came and min- istered to the sahiblok with creak- ings and snorings that cannot be uttered, much less spelled. The mango-crop was gathered and sold, the toimi inuchies swam up the river Hooghly, and were caught and oooked in their appointed sea- son. The Viceroy and his shining ones went to Simla, and a wave of flirtation swept over the Himalayas. The shops put up grass-tatties for the wind to blow through, and the customers who wont in were much cooler than the coolies who stood outside throwing water over them. The brain-fever bird spoke — he does not sing — all day long in the banyan-tree — ^^Ponk! Ponk!'''' all day long in the thickest part of the banyan-tree, where nobody can see or shoot him. He comes and stays with the hot weather, a feathered thing accursed. The morning paper devoted itself exclusively to publishing the " Gazette " notices of leave and the lists of intending passengers by P. and 0., and week after week the tide bore great ships out- ward, every cabin occupied by persons connected with more or less disordered livers, going home for three or six or twelve months' repairs. You could count on your fingers the people A II IB, THE SIMPLE ADVENTCRES OF A MEMSAIIIH. 215 s for three ler months, le and min- with creak- ; cannot be elled. The id and sold, up the river pointed sea- Simla, and The shops 1, and the coolies who fever bird 1 van -tree — art of the He comes accursed, ilishing the passengers ships out- h more or or twelve ;he people i ''"1 you knew in the Ked Road. Kasi asked for an umbrolla ; re- s})t'ctfuliy as a right, it was tlie (lustur for tlie sahil) to provide an umbrella. The ayah begged for an umbrella, humbly as a favour; she had far to come and the sun was '■' (Uj k'ninafik.'''' * The kitmutgar asked for an umbrella, not because he had the slightest idea that he would get it, but because it was generally more blessed to ask than not to ask. The clndera arrived i)unc- tuallv, and increased the native death-rate, with its custonuirv iudustrv. The Lovitts lost a bearer from tiiis cause, and a valuable polo pony from heat apoi)lexy. Tlie latter bereave- ment was in the paper. The oil exuded more profusely still u{)on the adipose tissue that encloses the soul of a baboo, and Calcutta flamed with the red flowers of the gold mohur ti'ce, panting nightly, when they were all put out, under the cool south wind from the sea. Xeither the Lovitts nor the Brownes left C*alcutta ; thev were imiong the peo])le you counted on your fingers. There is very little to talk about in the hot weather, and the fact that nothing had happened was discussed a good deal, in the dead })i"ivacy of the roof or the lower veranda. Both the top flat aiul the bottom flat thought it had managed admirably, aiul congratidated itself accordingly. That nothing should have hapj)ened caused them to rise considerably in each other's esteem — there wore so few people living under one roof in Calcutta who were able to say it. They told society how agreeable they fouiul it to live with each other, and society repeated it, so that the Brownes hoard of the Lovitts' satisfaction, and the Lovitts heard of the Brownes'. Indeed, there came a time when the Brownes aiul the Lovitts thought almost as much of each other as they did before they lived together. * Like fire. '•■I" if I 1 l\ • <; 11 W ri 2i6 ^V/A S/. )//'/./-: ADVKXTURES OF A MEMSAUJH. It hud been iin extinct volciino after all, and they stopju'd throwiiifj water down. Mrs. Lovitt, by degrees, became easily confidential again, and told Helen among other things that editied her, exactly what they were saying at the clnb about Mrs. Lush- ington and the (Jeneral's A. 1). C, Mrs. Lovitt's version coming straight from Jimmy Forbes, and being absolutely correct. Helen being without a confidential male admirer upon these matters — husbands kept them notoriously to themselves — had not the wherewithal to exchange ; but she borrowed the Lovitts' khansamah to make some cocoanut creams, which was going a great deal further. Wlien the Brownes' i)ony was laid up with the sun, threatening vertigo, Jack Lovitt took young Browne to ofllice very sociably in his cart ; and when the Lovitts ran up to Darjiling on ten days' casual leave, the Brownes looked after " the littlest black and tan in Calcutta," and took it out for a drive every day. They dined and lunched and shopped more and more often together, and ^Irs. Lovitt knew exactly how many topsy muchiea Mrs. Browne got for eight annas. It was just at this very favourable point that the difficulty about ^L'. Lovitt's unmarried sister arose. Mr. Lovitt's unmar- ried sister had been shipped six months before to an up-country relation, and having made no use whatever of her time in Cawn- pore, was now to be transferred to Calcutta as a final experiment. Mrs. Lovitt wanted a room for her unmarried sister-in-law, wanted Helen's dining-room. It was a serious difficulty, and the Lovitts and the Brownes in the plenitude of their confidence and good-will agreed to surmount it by "chumming," — living together and dividing the bulk of the household expenses — a form of ex- istence largely supported in Calcutta. In the beginning, chumming lends itself vastly to expansion, and the Brownes and the Lovitts expanded to the utmost verge. MSAJ//B. 1(1 they stopj)t'il , beciinie easily iiigstlmteditied loiit ^Irs. Lusli- version coming )lutely correct, •er upon tliese lemselves— liad 'ed tlie Lovitts' ch was going a as laid up with ung JJrowne to •vitts ran up to 's looked after ok it out for a shopped more ctly how many the difficulty ovitt's unnuir- lu up-country ime in Cawn- experiment. sister-in-law, ulty, and the )nfideuce and I'mg together form of ex- expansion, tmost verge. /•///: SIMPLE ADVEXrCKES 01- A MEMSAIllH, 217 They forgot the happy result of past disci-etions; they became a united family, no longer a top and a bottom llat. Tiiey pooled their domestic resources — the soup-plates were .Mrs. iiovitt's, the dessert-knives were Mrs. Hrowiu-'s. They consulted each other's tastes pressingly. They had brisket always on Saturday night because "Jack" liked cold brisket for breakfast on Sunday morn- ing, and mutton twice a week because young iirowne had a weak- ness for caper sauce, ^^rs. f^ovitt sent away her cook — a crown- ing act of grace — and Kali Ragh reigned in his stead. It was all peace and fraternity, and the sahibs sat together in long praise of each other's cigars every evening, while the memsahibs upstairs discussed their mutual friends and sank deeper into each other's alTections. Indeed, in little Mrs. Lovitt's Helen had absolutely no rival except Jimmy Forbes, the black ami tan, and Mr. Lovitt. They saw a good deal of Mr. Forbes naturally, and the inter- esting and uiuque position in the house occupied by tluit gentle- man was revealed to Helen with all the force of an Aufrlo-Indian experience. lie was nearly always there, and when he hadn't been there he was in the habit of giving an account of himself as having been elsewhere. It was expected of him, and much l)e- side. Helen decided that he couldn't be described as a "tame cat" in the family, because the position of a tame cat is an ir- responsible one, and Mr. Forbes had many responsibilities. If Mrs. Levitt's racquet went ^\fut'" * it was Jimmy who had it re- strung for her. When a new theatrical company came sailing up from Ceylon, Jimmy went on its opening night to report, and if it were good enough to waste an evening on, he took the Lovitts — generally botli of them— later. If the roof leaked, or the servants misbehaved, Mrs. Lovitt complained to Jimmy quite 15 * To ruin. I i m 1„ 2i8 77/ A" SlMPl.E ADVEXTUKES OE A MEMSAIUn. as often !iH ti) .liuik, and .Jiniinv saw to it. When Mrs. Lovitt wanted sonio Burnu'si' carvings, .Jimmy arningod it at the jail, wlioro the cajjtivc l^irnu'sc carve, and wlu'ii tliat lady decided that she would like to sell her victoria and bnv a cabriolet, Jimmy advertised it in TItv En(jl\s}imnn and made the bargain. In fact Mr. Forbes relieved Mr. Lovitt of more than half the duties pertaining to his oflicial position, of wliich kindness the latter gentleman was not insensible. Nor could anybody say that little Mrs. Lovitt was. She nursed Jimmy Forbes when he was ill, scolded him when he was inii)rudent, and advised him on the subject of his clothes. 1 don't know that she ever put his necktie straight, but she never would allow him to wear anything but blue ones, and made a point of his throwing away all his high (collars — the turned down ones suited him so much better. She did not overload him with benellts, but at Christmas and on his birthday she always gave him some little thing with a per- sonal association, a pair of slippers, some initialled luindker- chiefs, a new })hotograph of herself, generally taken with the littlest black and tan in Calcutta. Thus tliey made no secret of their affection ; it had the can- dour of high noon. Thev called each other Jimmv aiul Jennv with all publicity. When Jimmy went home on three months' leave, Jennie told all her friends that she was simply desolated. She declared to Jimmy and to the world that she was a mother to this young man, and no mother could have walked and danced and driven more self-sacrificingly with her son. Mrs. Lovitt was at least three years younger than her "Jimmy-boy," but that, in cases of adoption, is known to be immaterial. In periods of absence they wrote to each other regularly twice a week, and Jimmy never forgot to send kind regards to Jack. Their manner to each other was conspicuous for the absence of m Mrs. Lovitt it at the jail, t ladv 5EPlIINE MKJIIT TKACll .IIMMY " IIALMA. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OE A MEMSAIUB. 22 ^ ^> absolutely safe so far as the girl was concerned — of course, he was bound to think of the girl — and more or less agreeable. A little later Helen coniided to (Jeorge that she really wouldn't be one bit surprised if something came of it ; Jack Lovitt renuirked to his wife that Forbes seemed rather taken with Josie, and he was quite prejjared to give them his blessing ; and Mrs. Lovitt replied that it would be lovely, wouldn't it, but she was afraid it was only temporary, adding ratlier vaguely that Jimmy Forbes wasn't a bit like other men. On the whole it wouldn't be unsuitable, but it was a pity Josie was so tall — she overtopped him by about a foot — a tall woman and a little man did look so idiotic together. That evening ^Frs. liOvitt accompanied "The Bogie Man" without any reference to her rheumatic finger-joints. It was at this juncture — when any lady of discretion living in the same house would have been looking on in silent joy, witho' lifting a finger — that Helen found herself vielding to the tem})tation of furthering matters, so successfully, you understand, was Mr. Forbes making liis experiment. Here a little and there a little Mrs. Browne permitted herself to do what she could, and opportunities occurred to an extent which inspired and delighted her. She discovered herself to be a per- son of wonderful tact, and the discovery wo doubt stimulated her, though it must be said that circumstances put themselves very readily at her disposal. ^Ers. Lovitt, for one thing, had gradually retired from the generalship of the situation, becom- ing less and less sanguine of its issue as Helen became more and more hopeful. 8he even had a little confidential conversation with Josephine, in which she told that young lady that though Jimmy was a dear good fellow and she had always been able to depend upon him to be kind to any friends of hers, she was >24 THE SIMPLE ADVEXTCRES OE A MEM SAHIB. --4L afraid he was not a person to be taken altogetlier scriviifaw. )t a clirouicle ter-in-la\v, the 'at leui(tli and )vitt and Mr. 11, assisted by house, on a evenings had le had estab- enings — tliey itimental or- erstood even showed ^Frs. pting, it was from purely having dis- damage, re- Vll T wish to \ THE SIMPLE A1)\-EXTCRES OE A MEM SAHIB. 225 establish is that the Hrownes did not leave No. Gl, i'ark-street until quite three weeks after the engagement was announced. 1^ MH. MISS JosiI'lllNi; I.OVITT Ki;KKAlM:it IKO.M HANDING IIIM HACK TD MKS. I.OVITT. Mrs. Lovitt was obliged to wait until they found a house. And of course their going had nothing whatever to do with dear Jusie's engagement — ^frs. TiOvitt made that match, and was very 226 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. !. proud of it. The incident that brought about their misunder- standing witli the Brownes was tlie merest trifle, Mrs. Lovitt would tell you if you knew her well enough, the merest trifle. They, the Lovitts, had asked the Honourable Mr. Justice Lamb of the High Court to dinner on, say, Friday of next week, llis lordship was suffering very much from the weather when the in- vitation came, and declined it, fabricating another engagement as even their lordships will. Mrs. Browne and Mrs. Lovitt had then reached that point in the development of the chumming system — hastened a little by circumstances — when one thinks it isn't absolutely necessary for those people to concern themselves in all one's affairs, and the circumstance was not mentioned. As it happened, therefore, the Brownes two days later invited Mr. Justice Lamb to dinner on the same Friday, the old gentleman being a second cousin of young Browne's, and in the habit of dining with them once in six months or so. The thermometer having gone tlown a few degrees, his lordshij), who was a person of absent mind, accepted with much pleasure, putting the note in his pocket-book so that he wouldn't forget tlie youngster's ad- dress. " We have a man coming to dinner to-night," Helen re- marked casually at breakfast, and Mrs. Lovitt was of course not sufficiently interested to inquire who it was, if Mrs. Browne didn't choose to say. The man came, ate his dinner with a good conscience and a better appetite, and being as amiable as he was forgetful, mentioned particularly to Mrs. Lovitt liow sor- ry he was not to have been able to accept her kind invitation of last week. It was a little thing, but Mrs. Lovitt foresaw that it might lead to complications. And so the Brownes departed from No. 61, Park-street, not without thanksgiving. T //IB. misunder- ^Irs. Lovitt erest tritie. stice Lamb week, llis hen the iii- ngagemeut Lovitt liad chumming le thinks it themselves ioned. As iivited Mr. gentleman e habit of ermometer IS a person tlie note gster's ad- lelen re- !Ourse not Browne )r with a .miable as liow sor- itation of it might from No. n/E SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OE A MEMSAIIIB. 22/ \ CHAPTER XX. JJlOR the furtherance of a good understanding between the sahibs and the Aryans who obey them and minister unto tlieni, the Raj * has ordained hinguage examinations. 'J'his was necessary, because in war, contract-making, or the management of accounts, neitlier a (Jhurka nor a Bengali will comprehend you if you simply swear at hiui. He must be approached through a rudimentary medium of imperative moods and future tenses. Therefore the institution of the Higher and the Lower Standard, and much anguish on the part of Her ^Fajesty's subalterns. The Kaj attaches rather more credit to the former of these examina- tions, but afterwards the difference is nominal — you forget them with equal facility. It might be respectively pointed out, however, that the Gov- ernment of Lidia has done nothing in this direction to stimulate intercourse with the native population among memsahibs. In fact the Government of India does not recognise memsahibs in any way that is not strictly and entirely polite. And so the memsahib "picks up" Hindustani — picks it up in her own sim- ple artless fashion wliich dispenses with all ordiiuiry aids to the acquirement of a foreign tongue. She gathers together her own vocabulary, gathers it from the east and the west, and the north and the south, from Bengal and Bombay, from Madras and the Punjab, a preposition from Persia, a conjunction from Cashmere, * Government. 228 '1^'- SIMPLE ADVEXTCRES OE A MEMSA///B. a noun from the ^silglierrics. Slie nuikes her own rules, and all the natives she knows are governed l)y them — nothing from a grammatical point of view could be more satisfactory than that. Uer constructions in the language are such as she pleases to place upon it ; thus it is impossible that she should make mis- takes. The mcmsahib's Hindustani is nevertheless not perfectly pure, entirely ajnirt from questions of i)ronunciation, which she regulates somewhat imperiously. This is because she i)refers to improve it by the admixture of a little English ; and the effect upoji the native mind is quite the wune. It really doesn't mat- ter whether you say, " That's bote atrlin liiii hhanmmah-yce^''' * or " This is very cardh^ f you stupid ool-ka-bi'tn^^^ \ or use the simple Hindustani statements to ex})ress your feelings. The English may adorn them, but it is the Hindustani after all that gives vitality to your remarks. " Chol'i'c hio^^'' means " bring a chair," but if you put it, " bring me a chokee lao,'''' the meaning of the command is not seriously interfered with, beside convincing you more firndy that you have said what you wanted to say. I suppose Mrs. I^rowne talked more Hindustani to Kali Bagh than to anybody else, and one dinner's dialogue, so to speak, might be like this : " Knl hi * mutton, how much is there. Kali Bagh ? " " /^^ ^;//.s- hai, Jiazin-:' \\ "Tlien you nuiy irony-f always such a dick and worry to get rid of a k'asc. One of iicr kitFnut;;ars had i)ccn giving her trouhlc — she was afraid he was a had jat of man — he was turning out a regular hudiuash. f lie iittende(l to his hookuins \ very well, hut he was always getting into golnials" with the other servants. Had I heard the gup about Walter 'I'oote's being in trouble with his Department? Awful row on, Mrs. Lovitt believed. And had I been at (Jovern- nu'Ut Ifouse the night before? It was getting altogether too gurrum || for nautches now. As for her, she had been up everv blessed night for a week with .N[rs. (Jammidge's butcha '^ — aw- fully bad with dysentery, })oor little wretch — and was too done to go. It was quite time the season was over, aiul yet they had three burra khanas ^ on for next week. It will he evident that a very limited amount of intercourse of this sort will assist tremeiulously toward a self-siitisfying acquaint- ance with Hindustani. There is a distinct llavour of the lan- guage {d)out it. But tliis lingers only in India. We leave it when we sail away from the Apollo liunder, J where it attaches itself to the first new-comers. It belongs to the land of the kit- mutgar ; it forsakes ua utterly in Kensington. Mrs. Browne found it very facilitating, and if she did noi finally learn to speak like a native she speedily learned to speak like a mcmsahib, which was more desirable. In the course of time young Browne forgave her the agonies her initiation cost him. They began early in the morning when Helen remarked that it was a very " atcha " day, they continued at breakfast when * Agroomcnt, \ Blackguard. X Orders. ** Rows. II Hot. ^ Offspring. Big dinners. 1 The Bombay jetty. iir M SMI in. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTUKES Of A MEMSAIIIH. 233 iliihiist/ it was e. One of lur afraid ho was a iKliiiash. f lie always <5L'ttiii,i,^ iicanl the ^iip s Di'partiiuMU ? )eeMi at (Joveni- altogi'thiT too I been up even" l)ut(.'li;i ^ — aw- was too doiio to 1 yet tliey ha \ \ V (lay entcrtiiins Dorcas nicotin<(s witli innocently amusing ac- counts of domestic life in India ! He was always by way of being amusing, was I'adrc Peterson ; he had a fine luminous smile, which he invariably took with him when he went out to dine. He was kindly ami unostentatious, he lived sim})ly and ([uietly, giving a little of his money to the })oor and putting a great deal of it into the Hank of Hengal })en(ling a desirable rate of exchange. Padre Peterson was every inch a padre; there was nothing but ecclesiastical meekness in hifi surplice of a Sunday; and even his secular expression, notwithstanding the smile, spoke of high ideals and an embarrassed compromise with week-day occupations. He had li humble, hopeful way of clasping his hands and sloping his shoulders and arranging his beard over his long black cassock, especially when he sat at meat, which reminded one irresistibly, though I admit the simile is worn, of an oriel apostle in stained glass. lie was seriously happy, and he made old, old Anglo-Indian jokes with his luminous smile in a manner which was peculiarly maddening to the enlarged liver of Calcutta. He would have hesitated to employ coercion even as a last resort wiMi his flock of St. Pancras. lie was no shepherd with a cracking whip, he would go before rather, and play upon the lute and dance and so beguile the sheep to follow. Ilis amiability was great; he was known to "get on" with everybody. Nobody knew precisely why Padre Peterson always got everything he wanted, but it was obscurely connected with the abounding charity for sinners in general, and official sinners in high places in particular, which was so characteristic of him. He could placate an angry Under-Secretary, and when an Under-Secretary is angry In lia quakes and all the Lieutenant- Governors go to bed. The finances in St. Pancras were never in better hands. St. Pancras had a new organ, a new font, and ////?. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTLRES OE A MEMSAJIIB. 245 'ay of being nouH smile, )iit to dine, und quietly, a great deal iiltlc rate of ! ; there was f a Sunday ; smile, spoke th week-day clasping his 5 beard over meat, wliich s worn, of an ppy, and he s smile in a arged liver oercion even He was no ratlier, and p to follow, t on" with rson always nected with cial sinners stic of him. d when an Lieutenant- ere never in w font, and 1 new beams and rafters jdl through in Padre Peterson's day. If new graves and gravestones had been as urgently required then as thev are now, Padre Peterson would have found the money and had the thing done at the lowest contract rates. A remarkable man in many ways, and now that I think of it, he's dead, quite a long time ago. Others I seem to remember best in some secular connection. Padre Jenkins, whose pony won the Gymkhaiui Cup at the Hiirrackpore races of I can't remember just what year; Padre MacWiiirter, who used to say very truly that he made golf what it was in Alipore ; Padre Lewis-Lewis, who had for five years the most charming manners and the best choir in Calcutta. But there is no reason why I should count them over to you. I^ong since they have disappeared, most of them, with their little Hat black felt hats on their heads and their tennis racquets in tiieir hand, into the fogs of that northerly isle whither in the end we all go and whence none of us return. This chap- ter is really more of an apology to Mrs. Plovtree than anything else. Mrs. Plovtree will be grieved, however, and justly so, that I have not said more about the Indian bishop. The explanation is that I have never known a bishop very well, as I have never known a Viceroy very well. Even at my own dinner- table I have never permitted myself to observe a bishop beyond the point of admiration. Some day in Bournemouth, however, 1 will write a thoughtful essay on the points of similarity, so far as I have noticed them, between Indian bishops and other kinds, and sent it to the Guardian^ where Mrs. Plovtree will ].)e sure to see it ; but it is not considered wise in India to write critical esti- mates of bishops or of any other heads of departments until after one retires. I might just say that the bishop, like the Viceroy, ml :■ I 246 r///r SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEMSAIIIR. is a foreign plenipotentiary. lie does not rise from the withered ranks of the Indian service, but, like the Viceroy, comes out fresh from the culling hand of the Secretary of State. He di- vides with the Viceroy certain Divine rights, divinest of which is the right not to care a parrot's eyelasli for anybody. In con- sequence the bishop holds his venerable head high and dines where he pleases. Certain of the Uaj-enthralled of Calcutta find the independence of a bishop offensive. In me it provokes a lively enthusiasm. I consider the episcopal attitude even more valuable than the episcopal blessing, even more interesting than the episcopal discourse. And I agree with Mrs. Browne, who thinks it must be lovely to be a bishop. But neither for our spiritual pastors and masters are times what they were. There was a day, now faded, with all the rol- licking romance of John Company Bahadur, when two honest butts of golden crown madeira a year helped to alleviate the sor- rows of exile for King George's chaplains in India — the present Secretary of State would probably see them teetotallers first ! The mails come out in a fortnight, the competition-wallah over- runs the land, the Rajah studies French. India is not what it was, and another of the differences is that the padres buy their own madeira. I saw a priest of Kali, wrapped in his yellow chudder, sit hugging his knees under a mahogany tree to night beside the broad road where the carriages passed rolling into the " cow's dust" of the twilight. A brother cleric of the Raj went by in his victoria with his wife and children, and the yellow robed one watched them out of sight. There was neither hatred nor malice nor any evil thing in his gaze, only perhaps a subtle ap- preciation of the advantages of the other cloth. iiLi lllli. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTi'RES OF A MEMSA/IIIi, 247 tie withered comes out itc. He di- , of which ia ly. In con- 1 iiud dines Julcutta lind fc provokes a e even more jresting than lirownc, who ers are times h all the rol- ;n two honest eviate the sor- ,— the present totallers first! ii-wallah over- is not what it idres buy their w chudder, sit frht beside the ito the " cow's {iij went by in e yellow robed ler hatred nor aps a subtle ap- 11 CHAPTER XXII. AVIXO suited tliomsclvcs with the furnisliod liouse of a junior civilian, wiio liad suddenly decamped before heat apoplexy and gastric complications, tlie Hrownes settled down, if the expression is not too comfortable, to wait for the rains. 1 should dislike any misunderstanding on tlio point of comfort. It is not too much to say that the word is not understood iu Cal- cutta. Wo talk of aram here instead, which means a drugged case with heavy dreams. The Brownes stored their furniture in the godowns of the other man, and had arum nevertheless in contemplating his, which was ugly. Aram is cheap — the price of a cup of coffee and a long veranda chair — and seductive ; but I was annoyed with Helen Browne for accepting the other people's furniture so pacifically. It seemed to me that she was becoming acclimatised too soon. There is a point in that process wliero a born British gentlewoman will live witliout antimacassars and sleep on a cbar- poy ; but I do not wish to be considered a morbid modern ana- lyst, so this need not be enlarged upon. The other people's fur- niture, moreover, would have been entertaining if it could liave talked, to so many people it had been let and sub-let and re-let and leased, always with the house, since it left Bow Bazar, where it was originally bought outright by an extravagant person sec- ondhand. It had never belonged to anybody since : it had al- ways been a mere convenience — a means of enabling people to , M k 248 '^m^ SIMPLE ADVEXTUKI.S OF A MEM SAHIB. give dinner parties. No one had e\er regarded it, or mended it, or kept it any cleaner tluin decency required. It was tarnished, cracked, frayed, soiled ; it included tables with white marble tops, and bad chromo-lithographs and dust;' bunches of dried grasses which nobody had ever taken the trouole to eliminate. In the cold weather certain people had paid five hundred rupees a month for the privilege of living with it ; in the hot weather certain other people had lived with it for nothing, to keep the white ants out. Withal it was typical Calcutta furniture — a typical part of tlie absurd pretence that white people make of being at home in this place. The rains are due, as all Calcutta knows, on June the fif- teenth. That is the limit of our time of jnire grilling. "We know it is written upon our foreheads that we must turn and writhe and bite the dust in the pain of the sun to that day ; but on that day we expect that the clouds will come up out of the east and out of the west and clothe the brazen sky, and interpose between us and the dolour of India. It is what we call a pucca bandobust, arranged through the Meteorological Department, part of the bargain of exile with the Secretary of State. For so many years of active service we get so much pension and so much furlough, and we are to be rained upon every fifteenth of June for three months. Therefore when the sun arose upon the fifteenth of June of this current vear of the Brownes, and marched across the sky without winking, the Brownes were naturally and properly ag- grieved together with the 15engal Government and all Calcutta. When one has defined the very point and limit of one's endur- ance, it is inconsistent and undignified to go on enduring. The ticca-gharry horses were so much of this opinion that they re- fused too, and dropped down dead all up and down Chowring- IlIB. THE SIMPLE ADVEX ri'RES 01- A MEMSAIllH. 249 mended it, 5 tarnished, narble tops, 'ied grasses ,te. In the 3es a month her certain 3 white ants lical part of at home in me the fif- illing. We ;t turn and it day ; bnt [) out of tlie id interpose all a pucca epartment, ite. For so lid so much th of June of June of 3ss the sky )roperly ag- 11 Calcutta, ne's endur- ing. The lat they re- Chowring- hee, as a preferable alternative — those that were driven. The more prudent gharry wallaii drew up in the reeking shade of some great building — it was cooler in the streets than in the stables — and slept i)rof()undly, refusing all fares till sundown ; and the broker-sahib, who spends his life upon wheels, changed horses four times a day. On the night of the fifteenth of June young Browne got up stealthily and deftly turned a jug of water over a hole in the floor through which a punkah rope hung inert. There was a sudden scramble below, the punkah rope sawed con- vulsively, and young Browne, with a ghastly smile, })ut out the glimmering candle and went back to bed. It is a popular form of discipline in Calcutta, but as ai)plied by young Browne it bore strikingly upon the weather. The Maidan cracked and split, and even the broad leaves of the teak-wood tree hung lim}) and grey under the ])owder of the road. The crows had nothing to say all day, but ho})pe(l about with their beaks ridiculously agape, while the sun blazed down through the ilat roofs of (Calcutta, and made Mrs. Browne's chairs and tables so hot that it was a surprise to touch them. At the same time it drew up the evil soul of the odour of the bazars, tlie " hurra krah * smell," as Kipling calls the chief characteristic of Calcutta, and cast it abroad in all the city. The lirownes scjuandered sums upon Condy's fluid wholly dis])roportionate with their income vainly, for nothing yet known to ])harnuicy can cope with that snu'U. It grew hotter and hotter, and some- times the south wind failed, and tiu'n the snudl became several smells, special, local, individual, though the frangi-])anni tree leaned blooming on its spiky elbows over every garden wall, and made them all aweet and langorous and interesting and truly * Verv tmd. 17 I '! h 5" t .1 , 3 ' I 250 77/E SIMPLE ADV EX TURKS OF A MEMSAUIH. Eastern. Tlie smells were not of groat consequenoe ; one gets accustomed to the smells as one gets accustomed to the curries. Mrs. Browne declared, too, that one could put up with the weather, and the cholera, and sunstroke — one didn't particularly mind even having one's house turned inside out occasionally by a dust-storm. The really trying things — the things one hadn't reckoned with beforehand — were that one's envelope Haps should all stick down ; that the pages of one's books should curl up; that the towel should sting one's face ; that the punkah should stop in the night. Even under these greater afflictions we are uncomplaining up to the fifteenth of June. But the sixteenth passed over these Brownes, and the seventeenth and the eight- eenth, and many days more, and still the dusty sun went down in the smoky west, and against the great red glow of his setting the naked beesties ran like black gnomes with their goat skins on their hips, slaking the roads that were red too. . . . And a mile and a league all round about the city the ryot folded his haiuls before his baking rice-fields, not knowing that men wrote daily in the Enijlixhman about him, and wondered in what way he had offended Lakshmi that for so many days she should with- hold the rain ! • ••••••• A shutter banged downstairs at three o'clock in the morning, there came a cool swishing and a sul)siding among the fronds of the date-palms, tlie gold mohur trees raised their heads and lis- tened — it was coming. Far down in the Sunderbunds it was raining, and with great swee})s and curves it rained further and further inland. Calcutta turned more easily upon its ])illow, and slej)t sound and late, the punkah-wallah slept also with impi.nity, and wlien the cit awoke in the morning the rains had come. IH. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB. 251 one gets G curries. with tlie ^rticularly ioiuilly by lie hadn't ips should curl up; ah sliould ns we are sixteenth the eight- ,vent down his setting jjoat skins . . And a fohled his men wrote wliat way ould with- e nionung, (■ fronds of ds and lis- nds it was 'urther and its pillow, , .also with r the rains Mrs. Browne professed to find a great difference and novelty in the rains of India. She declareii that they came from lower down, that they were whiter and greyer, that they didn't refresh the earth, but beat it and sat upon it, that there was quite an extraordinary quality of moisture about them. 1 believe every new-comer makes similar observations. To the rest of us, it has been obvious for so numy years that during July, August, and September a considerable amount of water descends u})on Ben- gal, that we have ceased to make original remarks about it. liut liengal certainly gets very wet, and Mrs. lirowne's observa- tions as the time went on, and the floods abated not, were en- tirely excusable. Every day it rained, more in the morning and less in the evening, or less in the morning and more in the evening. The garden became a jungle, the English Howers that had died a puzzled death in May, sent up hysterical long shoots; one conld see the grass growing. An adjutant sailed in from the mofussil * marshes, trailing his legs behind him, to look for frogs on the Maidan. He stood on one leg to look for them, upon the bronze head of Lord liawrence, and his appearance, with his chin buried thoughtfidly in his bosom, was much more sapient than that of the administrator underneath. In the evening he flew back again, and then the frogs were at liberty to express their opinion of him. They spoke strongly, as was natural; one of them, in the tank of Ham Dass Ilurrymunny, barked like a pariah. The ci'ickets did their concerted best to outvoice the frogs, the cicadas reinforced the crickets, and all tiie otiier shrill-voiced things that coiJd sing in the dark, sang in such a wheezy heaving eternal monotone, that Mr. and Mrs. Browne, sitting damply behind their open windows, were quite reduced to silence. * Country. 2 c 2 11 U: SIMPLE ADVEXTLKES OF A MEMSAIllB. They were planting? tlio little green rice shoots in the mofus- sil, they wanted it all and more; but Mrs. Browne in Calcutta was obliired to look in the newspapers for the assur- ance that she ought to be thankful for quite so much rain. It seemed to Mrs. Browne that all her rela- tions with the world were being submerged, and that she personally was becom- ing too wet. She found it an unnatural and unpleas- ant thing that furniture should i)erspire ; and when in addition to the roof leak- ing, and the matting rot- ting, and the cockroaches multii)lying, the yellow sun- set and the blue sea of her incest water-colour mixed themselves up in a terrible and crumpled and impossi- ble manner, Mrs, Browne added tears to the geneial moisture, and thought the very fabric of her exist- ence was dissolving. Be- sides that, the Rev. Peachey came unglued out of his blue plush frame, and Aunt HE STOOD JPON ONE LKO ON THE DKONZE HEAD OK LORD LAWRKXCK. ■ 1 } mofus- L'alc'utta k in the e assur- lit to bo so much to Mrs. ler rela- rld were 111(1 that i beconi- fouiul it uni)leas- 'uniiture lid when oof leak- png rot- k roaches How sun- a of lier r mixed I terrible im})ossi- 1 Browne [^ <;eiieial uo;ht the er exist- 11 1;. lie- Peachey it of his md Aunt 77//; siMri.E AnvExrrREs or a mrmsaiiii^. 253 : Plovtree develojied yellow spots. Moreover, a i^reeii mould sprouted in the soles of their shoes, fresh every in()riiin,ij, and Ileleirs eveninarticular evening the Hrownes also came to distract themselves — it becomes a habit in time. The electric light sputtered and fizzled over the crowd of standing carriages. Helen thought it darkened the black circle round young Browne's eyes ; and he asked his wife apprehend- ingly if she were feeling chilled or anything — she looked so white. The damp, warm air clung to their faces. A num in a ticca gharry said to a num in the road that it was damned muggy. Several people in the carriages near heard him say this — it was so quiet. The crowd of carriage-tops gleamed motionless, the horses stood dejectedly on three legs, and under : 1 I' t' , > 1 ! 1 # » 258 T/IE SIMri.E ADl'EXTL'RES OF A M EM SA II 1 li. every liorse's nose a cotton-clad syce " bitoed " * on the ground w'itli ills chin on liis knees. A peddling native thrust u[) u round Hat boucjuet of pink and white roses that smelt of " Jockey Club." " ,1iw ! " said young IJrowne. Presently the band j)layed a gay and lightsome air, very sad to hear, from aTi opera long su])erseded at home, and with the playing of the band the general depression seemed to thicken and close down. There are peo])le in Calcutta who, even for distrac- tion's sake, cannot stand selections from the Mikado so near the end of the century. One by one the carriages began to roll away. Perhaps along the river road there would be a breath of air. The band played a medley, all sorts of things, and then " The Land o' the Leal." I saw the MacTaggarts drive olT. " Syce!'''' said Mr. Perth Macintyre; '' buttie jallao ! (Uirku!''\ . . . The last of the pink flush faded out of the sky behind the ships. The air grew sodden and chill, a little raw breeze cre[)t in from the east. Young Browne took off his hat to " God Save the Queen," and then " I think we ought to hurry him a little," said Helen, referring to the stubby little country-bred. " It's going to rain." It was in this month of August, I remember, that we lost a partner of the firm, in a sad though not unusual way. lie died, as a matter of fact, from a little Calcutta mud which rubbed itself into his elbow one afternoon when he was thrown out of his brougham. Tetanus the doctors called it, and they said he would have had a better chance if he had been thrown out of his brougham at another time of year. He was buried, poor man, in seven inches of water; and Mr. Perth * Sat on his heels. f " Light the (carriage) lamps. To the house I" IJi. ground list up a " Jockey very sad witli tlio ckcn and r di.strac- ncar tlie •oil away, li of air. en "The " Syce ! " . . . The he ships. b in from Save the :tle," said It's going we lost a He died, h rubbed vn out of they said 1 tlirown He was Ir. Perth T///-: SI Mr IE ADVEXTURES OE A MEMSAHIH. 250 Macintyre had two months' fever after attending the dripping funeral. It would be an affectation to write about Mrs. Mrowne'u ex- periences and to omit a chapter on at least one phase of the weather; but I could have told you in the beginning thai it would not be amusing. I I ' 260 THE SlMri.E ADVEXrrRES or A Ml.MSAUin. niAITKH XXIII. I! (■ !■ ' \ \. IV you have not entirely forgotten your geogrupliy you will know that against the eternal gold and hluo !)f the In- dian sky, across and across the middle of the land, there runs unevenly a high white line. You will renienii)er it better, i)erhaps, as " the trend of the Ilinialavas," and it niav have a latter-dav association in your mind with imprudent subalterns and nnddle-aged ladies wlio consume a great many chocolates and cal^ each other " my dear girl." Out here we never forget it for a single in- stant; it survives the boundaries of our native counties, and replaces in our imaginations every height in Europe. We call it "The Snows," and the name is as little presumptuous as any other. It is very far otT, and the more like iteaven for that reason ; moreover, that way Sinda lies, which is heaven's outer portal, full of knights aiul angels. They are distant and A^mnmitB^ ///?. forgotten will know gainst the I gold and f the In- ky, across Loross the ! of the there runs \\y a high line. You 'ineniher it , perhaps, e trend of )ciation in iged ladies ?aeli oth el- single in- mties, and \ We call iiptuous as heaven for is heaven's listant and 77/ J-: SIMPLE ADl'EXTURES OE A MEMSAUIH. 26 1 iinperturhuble, the Snows, we can only gaze and wonder and descend again to earth ; we have only the globe-trotter's word for it that they do not belong to another world. It is the brown outer ranges that we climb, the heaving brown outer ranges that stand between the Holy of Holies and the eye of the pro- fane, the unbeliever, the alien. liecause these brown enter ranges are such very big mountains it is our pleasure to call them "The Hills" — if you talked of spending three months in the mountains it would not be clear that you didn't mean Switz- erland. Here we perch our hill-stations, here once in every year or two we grow fat and well-liking, here on the brink of a literal precipice the callow subalterns and the blas^ married ladies flirt. It was by the merest accident, which I helped to precipitate, that the Brownes went to the Hills in September. A planter in the Doon* had committed suicide — acute dyspepsia — whose business was in our hands, and somebody had to go to see about it. The junior partner wanted to go, but the junior partner had just come out from England weighing fourteen stone, and 1 got Mr. Perth ^lacintyre to persuade him that it was absolutely necessary to spend two months of the rains in Calcutta if he wished to re(!Over his figure. Thus to the Hrownes also came tiie hope of the clean breath of the Hills. I went myself down to Howrah station after dinner to add my blessing to their luggage, but the train was gone. A fat baboo of Bengal told me so, with a wreath of nuirigolds round his neck. I thought, looking at him, how glad they must be to have turned their faces toward a country where men eat millet and chupatties,f and are lean. * Vallev. f Native cukes of flour and water. 262 '^m-- SlMri.E A DV UNTUNES 01- A MEMSAIlIfi. - ] to ; '■ ii I ! , i 1 t I Kasi wus tliiTo too. Kasi travclUMl " internu'diato/' tliat is to say sittinj,' yjanms,* d, " dom iiiis for a : a saving, ler meals, azri mm\ ami jt'Uli icted Mrs. iiota luizri. y till 111 id - ' we ought a saving if 10 window nch," said md extent vcr be re- >n at being is on the not look — Kit Anglo- ueh ])laees. nM)fs and imichr' i THE SI MP IE ADIE.X TIRES ()/•' .•/ MEMSAIIIIk 265 their niosfiiie-towcrs ; and they arc very hot. 'i'he Urownes' train lay on a side-track baking, as they entered it, four coolies ix'jiring the tiflin-basket. The })lace grilled almost silently, black and white and grey with converging railway lines encumbered witii trucks; an engine moved about snorting painfully, and nearly naked men ran in and out under the carriages smiting tlu; wheels. They rolle Browm-s' bitter complaint of Lucknow was that they found no ice there I Ah, little Brownes ! I write this of you more in sorrow than in anger; for I know a soldier's wife whose husband's name you might have read graven on a Lucknow tablet in the moonlight that 18 266 'i'lH-'- S/Mr/.E ADl'EX /'i'A'/:S OF A MEMSAIUli, i M iiij^lit, jiiul wlicn I ivmornhcr all tluit she has told me, I lind it grievous that you should even have been aware that there was no ice in Luck now ! In the morning they were rolling through a lightsome country, all gay fields and gravelly river-beds, with billows of sunlit air coming in at the windows, an hour from Saharanpora. A blue hill stood like a cloud on the edge of the horizon, the lirowncs descried it simultaneously and laughed aloud together. It was so long since they had seen any elevation greater than their own roof, or a palm-tree, or an und)rella. They got out at Saharanpore, and Kasi got out at ISaharanpore, and the bundles and the boxes and the bags got out at Saharan})ore. 'i'hey were all as dirty as they could jjossibly be, but the peo})le who did not get out at Saharanpore looked at them enviously, for they had the prosjjcct of being dirtier still. Arrived at the place of the dak- bungalow, and the solace of unlimited ablutions, Mrs. Hrowne could not inujgine in what respect she had ever found a dak- bungalow wanting. Could anything be more delightful than that they should have it entirely to themselves ! Hetween her first dak-bungalow and this one Mrs. Browne had nuide steps towards the st.litary Calcutta ideal. On this occasion she i)ulled down all the chicks,* and told the solitary box wallah who had outspread his wares in the veranda against her arrival to"Jao, jehli!" Here they tarried till the following day, when the blowing of a trumpet aroused them at what they considered an excessively early hour of the morning. It was their trumpet; they had bou'dit the exclusive right to it for twelve hours. It belonged to the dak-gharrv that was to take them from Sahjiranpore to Dehra, ♦ Venetian blinds. I find it lie re was ightsome illows of iranpora. izon, the togotluT. iter tliaii rot out at ? buiullcs rhey were lo did not n' liiid the f the dak- 's. Browne id a dak- tful than ween her lade ste}>s she pulled who had to " Jao, dowing of 'xces^^ively they had elonjrinl to toDehra, THE SIMPLE ADVEXrUKES OE A MEMSAIUH. 267 "a distance," as any guide-book will tell you, of "forty-two miles." If you could sec a dak-giiarry you would })r(tl)al»!y inciuirc with Mrs. Hrowne if there wasn't anv other wav of going. There is no other way of going. There are large num- bers of places in India to which there 1:5 no other way of going. And if one had answered you thus, you would have said that if you had known that you wouldn't have come. Mrs. lirowno said that when she saw the travelling-carriage of this Orient laud of dreamy luxury, but she didn't particularly nu'aii it, and neither would you. In appearance the lirowne's dak-gharry was a cross between a sun-bonnet and a blue hearse. This nuiy be a little ditlicult to inuigine; but I don't ai)peal to your iniagiiuition, I state facts. It was the shape of a hearse, and you were sup})osed to lie down in it, which completed the suggestion. To couiiteract the gloomy api)rehension of this idea, it was painted blue inside aiul out — distinctly a fonvve blue. This su})crficial cheerfulness was accentuated by shutters in the back and sliding doors at the sides, and the whole thing was trimmed from the roof with canvas wings. The top would take as much luggage as the hold of a ship — a small ship. Inside there wjis nothing at all, and a place to put your feet. Kasi condoned this austerity with rugs and pillows, and took his seat beside the driver, with whom ho conversed as alTably as his superior social ])osition would admit. The two lirownes were carefully extended inside like modern mummies; four native persons of ambiguous appearance and a j)i'rsuasive odour fasteiu'd themselves on behind. The driver cracked his whip, aiul the two meek brown s)»otted down-tro«l- den horses stood promptly upon their hind legs })awing the air. They came down in time, and then they began to back into tho dak-bun jxalow dining-room. D'ssuadcd from this tliev walked m I t 268 '^^^^'' ^IMPl'l'. ADVENTURES OE A MEM SAHIB, : I 1.1-1 ;r ( I across the road with the intention of putting themselves in the (litcii ; and linaliy, after a terrific expenditure of language on the part of the driver, they broke into a gallop, which brought each of the recumbent Brownes inside to a right angle by the action of some mechanical principle containing a very largo ele- ment of alarm. Tiiis was not at all a remarkable demonstration. It is the invincible dustur of every nnimal in the dak-gharry business, and is perfectly understood, locally. The animals at- tached to the Brownes galloped their three miles and arrived reeking at the next dak-stable witiiout another thought of anv- thing but their business. In the meantime the local under- standing spread to the Brownes, who specified it afterwards with liniment. To this impetuous way of going it was a relief, Mrs. lirowno told me afterwards, to hang one's feet out of the door. The picturesque conduct of the fresh dak-ponies every three or four miles disjdayed novel forms of vice, interesting to the uniniti- ated. They bit and strove and kicked, and one of them at- tempted to get inside. Helen said it was very wearing to one's nerves. But when they had accomplished the little earthquake of starting there were compensations. The road was green and shaded, as it would be in England ; squirrels frisked from one trunk to another, silvery doves with burnished breasts cooed in the baml)oo branches, and ever the gracious hills drew nearer and a little nearer. " These are only the Siwalliks,^' remarked young Browne, in a pause of their jubilant conversation. " Wait till you see the Himalayas on the other side ! The Siwalliks are only rubble. They're rapidly crumbling away." " If they were in England," replied Mrs. Browne, watching the little topmost turrets grow greener, " we wouldn't admit that n. js in tho iiage on broufilit le by the argo ele- istrution. k-":harrv iinals at- l arrived : of any- ,1 under- Eirds with ;. Browne )or. Tho e or four 3 uniniti- tliom at- ; to one's irthfiiuiko :froon and from one cooed in carer and Irownc, in on see the ly rubble. watching idmit that 71/ K SIMPLE A DV EX TURKS OE A MEMSAlllH. 269 they were rubbU\ And I (h>n't believe they'll crumble away very soon i» " In a fewa'ons," returned Mr. Browne superiorly. " It won't matter to \\i^. We're getting regularly up anu)ngst them, 'i'his is the beginning of tiie pass." Tliey had journeyed four hours and had come to a little white bungalow perched liigh upon the flank of the lU'arest hill. Hero the khansamah had a red beard, and swore by it that the sahib had not forwarned him ; liow should there be beef a!id j)otatoes I Milk and moorghy might be, but ^'^^%* no— the eggs were a lit- tle bad. " For tliat saying, son of the Prophet," said young lirowiu', " backsheesh will bo to you. In Iien<;al there is no true talk regarding eggs. And now hasten with the milk and the warmed moorghy curry of the traveller of yesterday, and dekko, Kasi, tifiin-basket, lao ! " Broad is tho road that leads over the ^lohun Pass, and beautiful are tho summits that look down on it, but it cannot be climbed with the unaided strength of horses. It was dull driving but for the sunset behind tho hills, when they put oxen on in the bad j)laces ; and still duller when tho sulky, long- haired black buifaloes lent a leg ; but there was a certain i)ictur- esqueness in being pulled by tho throe varieties of beasts at once, especially when a gang of road-coolies turned in and pushed be- hind. They had always the trumpet, too, which eidivened tho whole of thi*t part of Asia. And wild white balsams grew high on tho rocks, and naked little children, in blue necklaces, played about the road. There was the blackness of a tunnel, and then the vision of a fair valley mightily walled in, with tho softness of evening still m 270 VV//-: S/A/J'/J-: ADl'KNTl'KES OF A MEMSAIIIH. in her face, and tho smoke of lier hearth-fin^s curling up to a j)ur])le .sky. Tliey rattled across a quarter of a mile of dry rivcr- boil full of stones, and were in Delira, Dehra Doon, where all tho hedges drop j)ink rose-petals, and the bul-bul sings love songs in Persian, and the sahib lives iu a little white house in a garden which is almost home. f\ ' i \ I \ up to a ry river- e all tlie songs ill I garden THE SIMPLE ADI-ENTL:RES OE A MEMSAHIH. 271 CIIAPTKU A XIV. TTN' Delira the Brownes were within sight of tlie promised land, -^ not always but often. Sometimes it lay quite hidden in some indefinable matted cloud-region of the sky, aiul then the last of the Se])tember rains eame pelting down the Doon. Some- times it thrust only a shoulder out of its cloud garments, and sometimes white fleeces swept over it from morning till night. But there were other days when the clouds sailed high above it, trailing their shadows after them, and then indeed the Brownes could climb to it by a winding road that began at their very feet. The road ascended to Mussoorie, which twinkled white on a spur above them seven thousand feet up, am. twelve miles off. It would have been perfectly easy and practicable for them to go to Mussoorie; so easy and practicable tliat they didn't go. When young Browne had looked after the jdanter's tea-bushes, and put a headstone to his grave, and settled his bills and written home to his people the details of his affairs, there were eight days over. Mussoorie, the particular paradise of "quiet" people and retired old gentlemen who mean to die in the coun- try, was an insignificant achievement for eight days. The Brownes surveyed the great brown flanks of the liills and burned for a wider conquest. They would go to Chakrata, high in the heart of the Himalayas to the west, half way to Simla. They would ride on horseback all the way up and down again to the railway station at Saharanpore; it would be more than a bun- 272 i'lIE SIMPLE Ani'EXTl'KES OF A MEMSAIllB, (Ircd miles— jin expedition, as yoiuif]; Browne remarked, that they could dine out on for weeks when they f!:ot back to Cal- cutta. His own statement (»f their equijtment for the journey is succinct. " \V(^ shall want," said he, " two ])onies, two syces, and an ekka. The ekka will take the lu^^gage, bedding', Kasi, and the tiflin-bahket. 'J'he ponies will take us, and the syces ■will come alon*]^ behind. J^et us ^o and liire tliem." They drove out the long shady nuiin road of Dehra, creeping always upward to Hajpore, upon this business, and on the way .Mr. Browne ex]»lained to Mrs. Browne the natural history, cliar- aeter atid antecedents of the '' bazar tat." "They run small," said young lirowne, '' mostly ears and tails. They have a tend- ency to displace objects to the rear of them, and a taste for human llesh. Tiiey were l)orn and brought uj) in the bazar, and their morals are unspeakable, liut you can't get morals at any })rico in the bazar; they are too expensive to be sold there. And there's no real harm in the bazar tat, if you only keep away from his lieels and look a bit sjtry when you get on." Mrs. Browne asked, with concealed anxiety, if there were no donkeys. She was accustomed to a donkey, she said ; she could ride one really rather well, and if fleorge didn't mind she would so muvli ])refer it. liut (Jeorge answered in a spirit of ribaldry. The only donkeys in India, he said, belonged to the dhobies, and were permanently engaged in taking home the wash. By that time they had arrived. It was only a sharp elbow of a narrow mountain road, Kajpore, with its tumble-down houses, overhanging it on both sides, and it was quite empty. " There aren't any liorses here ! " Helen remarked with disparagement. " Wait," returned her husband. Then, with really no par- ticular emphasis, he said, " (Jorah ! " * to Raj pore. * Horse ! THE SIMPLE ADVEXTLKES OE A MEMSAHlli. 273 'd, that to Cal- joiinioy o syoos, g, Kasi, 10 syces [creeping tlio way rv, char- snuill," 3 a tc'iiil- taste for izar, aiul Is at anv •e. And 'cp away were 110 lie could e would •ibaldry. dhobics, Ksh. By ow of a houses, " There meiit. no par- *' liimd pony, sahib !" " Here iz, ineuisahii) — here iz ! " Hiijpore hunuui on iimunierable j)airs of Itrown legs, turned suddenly into tho best and most spacious of its ground floors, dragging thence Kajpore e<|iiiiu> hostile on four, wearing an ag- grieved expression above clinging strands of country grass. They canu', and still they canu;, from abcjve trotting down, from below trotting up. A human being of sorts was usually attached to them, but llajpore was obviously inhabited by [)onies. No other census would have been worth taking there. Mrs. Browne was surrounded bv ra<^<'ed turbans and man-eaters. With Mr. Browne's anxious hand upon her arm she felt herself precipitated in every direction at once. *' I can't keei) out of the wav of nil their heels, George," she exclaimed in the voice of the tried woman, and then (Jeorgc backed her carefully against a wall, drew a semicircle round her with a diameter of live feet, and forbade man or beast to cross the line. Then they proceeded to a choice. "Here iz, hazur ! Good nice thin wallah, memsahib ka- wasti ! " * "Thanks," said Helen; "he's a diagram! I want a fat one." "Look, memsahib! This one hate plenty fat. liose, rose, tarty bun'nles ghas khafa ! " f " lie's a baote-tamasha-widliih," remarked vounc: Browne. " Look at his eye, Helen. He also appears to have kicked all his skin oil his fetlocks. For you I should prefer the diagram." Finally it was the diagram for Helen, who commanded that * For the memsahib. f Day by day he eats thirty bundles of grass ! W GE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V A % < :/ 1.0 I.I 1.25 If 1^ 12.0 2.2 U 11 1.6 nl j.^ .!_• ''^W ■'4 I 274 rilE SIMPLE ADVEXTCKES OF A MEM SAHIB. M an unrcason{i])lo quantity of food should be given to it under her eyes, and remained until it was finished. "If she isn't fatter after that," she said with satisfaction, " it's her own fault." Yo'i"!g lirowne selected the veritable charger of Hajpore. He wore his mouth and nose carefully tied up in rope, and might be relied upon at all points so long as that one remained secure. " They're not much of a pair," said young lirowne, " but in your animal, dear, I don't mind sacrificing both speed and ap- pearances." "To safety. Yes, dear, you are itevfvx'ihj right." And ^Irs. Browne, whose sense of humour was imperfectly developed, re- garded her husband with affection. Thereafter it became a question of an ekka, and Rajpore had ekkas bewildering in their variety and in their disrepair. If you have never seen an ekka it will be difficult for you to understand one. The business ekka does not stand about to be photo- graplied, and therefore you must be told that, although it ap- pears to rest mainly on the horse's back, it has two wheels gen- erally, one on each side. There is a popular saying that no sahib likes a one-wheeled ekka, and though it is a pcoular saying it is true. The vehicle will do prodigious di^.^aices with one wheel, but it is anticipating Providence to engage it on that basis. An ekka is rather like a very old two-storied birdcage tilted up and fore-shortened, with a vaulted roof, and it runs in my mind that the roof is frescoed.' The upstanding little posts at the four corners are certainly painted I'cd and yellow ; they are carved also, like the rungs of certain chairs. I know that the ekka- wallali sits in tlie upper story smiling upon the world. An ekka- wallah always smiles ; his is a life of ease. I know too that there are bulgings above and protuberances below, and half a yard of dirty sacking, and seven pieces of ragged rope, and always room THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIIi. ^/^ for sonietliiiig else; but at this point my inijircssion becomes a little confused, and I cannot state with assurance which end is attached to the horse. That, however, is a matter of detail. The real point is that the Brownes found an ekka apparently two feet square, which contracted to carry their luggage, bed- ding, tiffin-basket, and Kasi up to Chakrata and down to the plains for the sum of three rupees per diem, which was extor- tionate. But the piiUhans* were moving down, ;nid the ser- geants' wives would require many ekkas. They could afToru to wait for the sergeants' wives. In expectation of these ladies the ekka market was a solid unit and the Brownes succumbed before it. Next day they left Dehra, dropping the first of its October rose-leave". Thinking of the planter in his grave, Helen won- dered how he could have been so indilTerent as to close his eyes wilfully and intentionally on such a i)lace. It was the morning, there was a sweet and pungent gaiety in the air, the long road they had to travel stretched before them in tlie pleasaunce of leaf-checkered sunshine. Little sti-iped squirrels played on the boles of the trees — they were English-looking trees — that met over their heads. Young Browne thanked (Jod audibly that they were out of the region of palms and plantains. Tiny green fly-catchers swung on the rushes of an occasional pool, pink-breasted ring-doves sidled out of their way, thieving parrots flew by sixes and sevens screaming up from the kJun-if crops.f Very green were the kJufrif crops, with the rain still about their roots, surging up under the lowest branches of the trees as far as these travellers could see before them. But for the teeming luxuriance of everything, the sense of breadth and * Regiments. f Cold weather crops 2/6 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OE A MEMSAIIIB. briglitness und tlie caressing sun, it miglit have been ii road in Devonshire. But for the wayfarers too. There were neither smocks nor gigs ; the ryot went by, chiefly dressed in liis own brown skin, urging his lean oxen ; all the gentle cows had curi- ous humps between their shoulders. And here by the wayside they saw the tiny dome of a battered white praying place, and there the square slab of a Mahomedan tomb. The sun grew hot as they scrambled with the road down to the bridge across a broad river bed full of round white stones and boulders, with a narrow shallow brown stream hurrying along the middle. Further away it trickled into the Jumna; here it played with pebbles and crabs, but now and then in the rains it brought the boulders down from the mountains swii'ling, and threw stones at the Department of Public AVorks, and shook the bi'idges. Looking one way as they crossed the bridge, it was a piled-up picture, the blue hills massed behind, the big white stones huddled and stranded in the glistening grey sand, the foolish little stream in the middle. Looking the other, the pic- ture went to pieces, the hills sloped further away, the sky came down, the big stones rounded themselves into little ones, and spread iudistinguishably far. Either way it was beautiful in the crisp Indian sunlight ; it had a gay untroubled life, like porce- lain. After that there were miles of irresponsible curving, weedy road, that led them sometimes past the sirkar's* sari forest, and sometimes past a little village gathered together under a mango- tree, but oftenest it straggled through wide, sunny, stony coun- try, full of pale half-tints, where only wild grasses grew. Such tall wild grasses, purple and yellow and white, bending and tuft- * Government's. THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. ^77 ing above their heads on either side of the way. " Thev would make Aunt Plovtrce hai^py for life," Helen said. They would indeed, and many another estimable lady resident in Great lirit- ain. It was a sorrowful waste that they should be growing there far from the solemn interiors that yearned for their dusty charms. Helen was so much of this opinion that she dismounted and gathered a bunch, compelling her husband to do the same, to send by parcel post to Aunt Plovtree. She ilicked the tlies off the Diagram's ears with them for three miles, then she lost a third of them in a canter, and young Jirowne arranged that the rest should be carefully forgotten at Kalsi dak-bungalow. He was of opinion that in undertaking an ascent of nine thousand feet on a bazar tat in India you couldn't be expected to gather and preserve wild grasses for your aunt in England. 278 THE SIMPLE ADVEXrUKES OE A MEM SAHIB. CilAITEIl XXV. I » Si \ I »ii( \ 'i, ^ ALL nififlit long tlio Juninji piirivd ill tlieir cars, roll- ing over the stones at the bot- tom of the shady hill, whereon the Kaj had built a travellers' rest. Look- ing out through the dewy branches in the morning, they saw the Doon lying under its mists at their feet, with the rag- ged Siwalliks on the other side — already tliey had begun to climb. Already, too, there Avas the mountain scent in the air — that smell of wet mossy rock and ferns and ruiming streams and vigour — and this, as they set forth ujjon the Himalayas, with their faces turned ui)wards, took possession of their senses and made them altogether joyous. The ]JaJi)ore charger sniffed the wind with his lioman nose as copiously as circumstances would permit, and snapped viciously at young Browne's trousers with his retrea:ing under-lip. The Rajpore charger must have been at least twelve hands high, and fat out of all proportion. His syce and proprietor, Boophal — THE SIMPLE Ain'EXTURES OF A MEMSAlIin. 279 probuljly thirteen years oM, weurin^^ a rarrged cloth jacki^t, a (Ihotj, Jind ill! expression of })recocious iiiitjuity, was very })roii(l of him. Tlic syce attaclied to Helen's pony was visibly abased by the contrast, and Helen herself declared londly a<,'ainst the injustice of being expe(;ted to keep up under the circumstances. Mrs. Hrowne's nuMint had oidy one idea of going, and that was to imitate the gait of her distinguished friend in front at a con- siderable distance to the rear; and there is no doubt that it must have been trvirg invariably to come U]) ])uHing, to the reproaches of a waiting lord, complacent in his saddle. " H' you could ride behind ii)X awhile and beat it," suggested Helen; "• it doesn't seem to niiiul me." But young Browne thought that was fpiite im2)ossible. There was one thing they mifjht do, though — at Saia they might get her a spur ! "(Jeorge!" cried she, "do you think 1 would use a spur? — horrid, cruel thing, that you never can tell when it's going in!" with ungram- matical emotion. " But we might change ponies for a bit, if you like." "We might," said young Browne, reflectively, "but I don't think that I should feel justified in putting you on this one, my dear; his rage and fury with his nose are awful." "But, George, I should like to ride beside yon !" "Xot more than I should like to have von, dear. P)ut T think, since I can't have that pleasure, what a satisfaction I take in the knowledge that you are safe. Do you feel disposed to trot?" "/do," returned Mrs. Browne, with i)laintive emphasis; "but you'll have to start, please. AVliat is the matter with this animal ? " The Diagram was neighing — long, shrill neighs of presage- ment, with her ears cocked forward. " Something's coming," f 1 11 Vili' 280 7"/^^^" SIMPLE ADVENTUKES OF A MEMSAtllB, said young Browne. '•'• Ddk-waUahata!''' * remjirkod Boophal. A fiiint jingling on the fur side of the nearest curve; the duk- walhih liad rounded it, and was upon them, at a short, steady, unrelenting trot. The duk-wallah, all in khaki, had charge of Iler Majesty's mails. There was no time for a salaam, lie wore bells at his waist for premonition, and a spear over his shoulder for defence. These hills were full oi jduwas f without special respect for Iler ^Majesty's mails. On he went, jingling faint and fainter, bearing the news of the mountains down into the valleys, a pleasant primitn'e figure of the pleasant primitive East. Young Browne liked him particularly. " What u decent way of earning one's living ! " said he. The hills began to round out nobly before them now. The road took great sweeps and curves, always penetrating and climbing, and a low stone wall made its appearance running along the outer edge. Over the wall they looked down upon a hurrying river and tree-tops ; but the hill-sides towered straight lip beside them, lost in sari, and oak, and mosses, and shadows. They had climbed a very little way. The stillness seemed to grow with the sunshine. Only now and then a jungle-fowl stirred, or a hoo-poe cried, or they heard the trickling of a tiny stream that made its ferny way down the face of the rock to the road. Underneath the warm air lav alwavs the cool scent; strange flowers bloomed in it, but did not change it; it was the goodly smell of the mountains, and Helen, respiring it, declared that it was the first time her nose had been the slightest pleasure to her in India. They turned to look back — the hills had grown up around them and shut them in ; they were upon the solitary, engirdling road, with its low stone parapet below unknown * The p'^stjnan comes. t Animals. THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB, 28 1 heiglits, above unknown depths, insisting always upwards round the nearer masses to hills that were greater, further, bluer. It was the little parapet, Helen decided, that nuide it look so lonely. It must have taken quantities of people to build the little parajjet along such mighty curves, and now they had all gone away down the road, and it seemed as if none of them would ever come back. After the dak-wallah tlie jogi * with his matted hair and furtive eyes. He asked nothing of the Brownes, the jogi, he extracted pice from his own people, for the good of their souls; the souls of the Brownes were past paying for ; besides, it was so unlikely that a sahib would pay. And after the jogi came a score of black, long-haired, long-horned buffaloes, and a man seated upon an ass driving them. The buffaloes luid evidently never seen anything approaching a Browne before, for they all with one accord stood quite still when they came Avithin twenty yards of these two, and stared with the stolidly resentful surprise that never strikes one as an affectation in a buffalo. '^I'here were so very many buffaloes and so very few Brownes and so little room for any of them that the situation was awkward. "Keep close behind me and stick to the inside," young Browne enjoined his lady. " They have been known to charge at things they don't understand, but they take a good while to make up their minds." " Do let's try to squeeze past before they make them up," said Helen nervously ; but as the Brownes circumspectly ad- vanced eaoh of the small syces ran out from behind his pony's heels, and laying hold of the buffaloes by any horn, ear, or tail that came nearest, jostled them intrepidly out of the way. And 19 Religious beggar. i 282 THE SI Ml' I. r. An\-EXTURES OE A MEMSAIllli. there WHS a deeper luiuiiliiitioii to eoiiic. As tlioy took tlieir ri^lit of way at a trot witli what (lirownes, neck and neck exhorting each other to calmness, then the bleat- ing calf that chased the Hying lirownes, then the snorting cow that chased the bleating calf, and, finally, he upon the ass who chased them all, with shouts and brayings to wake the mountain- side. ]t was a scene for the imperishable plate of a Kochik : there was hardly time to take it witli the imagination. As his ideal departed from him tiie calf fell back into tlie hands, as it were, of his mother and his master; and young Browne, glancing beliind, dechirod with relief that they were both lick- ing him. They stopped to rest, to consume rpiantitics of bread and but- ter and hard-boiled eggs, to ask milk of an out-cropping village. Milk was plentiful in the village, cool creamy buffaloes' milk, and the price was small, but from what vessel should the sahib drink it? All the round brass bowls that held it were sacred to the feeding of themselves, sacred to personalities worth Jibout four pice each ; and the lips of a sahib might not defde them. The outcast sahib bought a new little earthen pot for a })ice, breaking it solemnly on a stone when they had finished ; and 'ti w 1ll; '■ fi I I 284 ^"///^" SIMPIJ'] ADlEXTURliS OF A MEMSAUIB. even mixed witli the taste of fired mud the bulTuloes' milk waa ambrosial. On thoy went and up, the trees shelved further down below and LE AD VEX TURKS OF A MEMSAJIIB. 287 oiiglit to have a g-g-gun, darling, and you ivouhhCt be advised," Mrs. J5rowiie reproaclied liim hysterically. " It's all very well to laugh, but thiu-thin-thiuk of what might have been ! " " It's awful to think of what might have been if I had had a gun," said young Browne solemnly. " In the excitement of the moment I should have been certain to let it go off, and then she would have been down on us, sure. They hate guns awfully. Oh, we may be thankful I hadn't a gun ! " 288 ^'^^ SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. CHAPTER XXVI. J 1 1 PRESENTLY the^ mot a wonderfully pretty lady with red cheeks, such red cheeks as all the Miss Peacheys had in Canbury, being swung along in a dandy on the shoulders of four stout coolies. The red cheeks belonged to Chakrata; they were within half-a-mile of it then ; they would see it before the sun went down. The road zig-zagged a bit and climbed more steeply, narrowing hideously here and there. The khuds became terrific. Young Browne dismounted and walked at his wife's bridle, pushing lier pony close to the mountain-side. The preci- pices seemed to shout to them. Tliere was a last outstanding brown flank ; the road hurtled round it, over it, and then with the greeting of a mighty torrent of wind that seemed to come from the other side of the world it ran out upon a wide level place, where a band played and five hundred soldiers, in Her Majesty's red, wheeled and marched and countermarched, it seemed to the Brownes, for pure light- heartedness. That was the end ; there, grouped all about a crag or two, was Chakrata. There across a vast heaving of mountains to the horizon — mountains that sank at their feet and swelled again and again and again purple and blue — stood the still won- der of the Snows. " They aren't real," said Helen simply, " they're painted on the sky." I i THE SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. 289 The Browncs followed a path that twisted through Cliakrata, and in course of time they came to a little out-cropping wooden diamond-paned chalet, with wide brown eaves that overhung eternity and looked toward the Snows. It was a tiny toy dak- bungalow, and English dahlias, red and purple and yellow and white, grew in clumps and thickets tall and wild around it. Here they entered in and demanded a great fire and a cake ; while a grey furred cloud, flying low with her sisters, blotted out the Snows, and darkness, coming up from the valleys, caught them upon the mountain-top. Distinct and unusual joys awaited them in the morning. The fire had gone out for one thing, and they shivered luxurious shivers at the prospect of getting up without one. They enjoyed every shiver and prolonged it. How little one thought of being thankful for that sort of thing in England, Helen remarked, with little sniffs at the frosty air ; and young Browne said " No, by Jove," and how one hated the idea of one's tub. Oh, delight- fully cold it was, snapping cold, squeaking cold ! Helen showed her hands blue after washing them, and they tumbled through their respective toilettes like a couple of school children. It was so long since they had been cold before. At breakfast the butter was chippy, and that in itself was a ravishing thing. At what time of year, they asked each other, would butter ever stand alone without ice in Bengal. And their fingers were numb — actually numb ; could anything have been more agreeable, except to sit in the sun on the little veranda, as they afterwards did, and get them warm again ! There, without moving, they could watch that magical drifted white picture in the sky, so pure as to be beyond all painting, so lifted up as to be beyond all imagination. A ragged walluut-tree clung to the edge of the cliff ; the wind shook the last of its blackening 290 77/A SIMPLE ADVEXTURES OF A MEM SA II Hi. ■I leaves; tlio vast, wheeling sky was blue and empty, exeept of the Snows, and tlie dalilias had trooped to the verge to look, so tliut the sun shone tli rough their petals with the light of wine. It is their remotenes , tiieir unapproaehableness, that make these Himalayan Snows a sanctuary. From the foot of man any- where they are prodigiously far off, so that they look to him al- ways tlie country of a dream just hanging above the woi'ld he knows, or if he be of prayerful mind, the Habitation of the Holi- ness of the Lord. And since it is permitted to us that by moun- tain and by valley we may journey to look upon the Snows, even from very far otT, our souls do not perish utterly in India, and our exile is not entirely without its possession. The Brownes had only two days in Chakrata, which they em- ployed chiefly as I have mentioned — sitting in the sun devout before the Himalayas, or ecstatically blowing upon their Angers. They made one expedition to see a pair of friends whom the merciful tlecree of Providence had recently brought up from the Plains for g^ [f these under- S where ^ aspire. [1 reflect loulders ense he 11 easily sideriiig 3rnment ) incre- 1. And lent ex- sions to )untains lerfluons ngineers : brevity and suppression which always marks a Royal Knginccr under circumstances where ordinary people would he abusively fluent. Apparently they had command of themselves, they were JJoyal Kngineers, they weren't saying much, but it was vigorous the way they kicked the fire. The Brownes wen; still as mice, and absorbed their soup with hearts that grew ever heavier with a grievous sense of wrong inflicted not only upon their neighbour but upon a Royal Engineer ! "As a matter of fact, you know," said young Browne, " we've no business here. 1 think 1 ought to go and speak to them." " We've got permission," remarked Mrs. lirownc feebly, '* and we were here first." " I'm afraid," said young lirowne, " that we have the best end, and we've certainly got th(3 lamp. Maybe they would like the lamp. I think I ought first to go and see them. After all, it's their bungalow." Young Browne came back presently twisting the end of liis moustache. It was an unconscious imitation of the Royal Engi- neers acquired during their short and embarrassed interview. "Well?" said Helen. "Oh, it's all right. They don't particularly mind. They accepted my apology — confound them ! And they iroidd like the lamp — their's smokes. They're marching, like us, down to Saharanpore, inspecting the road or something, and fishing. No end of a good time those chaps have." " What are their names? " " Haven't the least idea — they're Royal p]ngineers." " Well," returned Mrs. Browne disconsolately, " what are we to do when you give them the buttie?" " Go to bed," returned her lord laconically. 296 THE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEMSAIIIB. Mrs. Browne prepared, therefore, for repose, and while Mr. Browne yiehled up the lamp there reached her from the other end of the hungalow tiie inelfable condescension of a Koyal En- gineer, who said " Thanks awfully." They were gone in the morning ; the Brownes heard from tlie kluinsamah tliat the burra-sahibs had departed at daylight, and the very burra of the burra-sahibs rode a white horse. The Brownes were glad these particularly burra-sahibs had gone ; they found they preferred to bo entertained by the ^Military Works Department in the abstract. " They probably mean to ride a long way to-day, starting so early," said Helen hopefully- "We won't find them at Futtehpore." It was unreasonable in the Brownes; they had no grievance against these Royal En- gineers, and yet they desired exceedingly that somewhere, any- where, their ways should diverge ; and there is no doubt what- ever that the Koyal Engineers would have heartily recommended a change of route to the Brownes. Unfortunately there vras only one, and it lay before them unravelling down among the hills to Futtehpore. It was such glorious cantering, though, that these inconsiderable civil little Brownes on their bazar tats, all agog with their holiday, almost forgot the possible recurrence of the Royal Engineer. lie became a small cloud on the horizon of their joyous day ; he would probably vanish before evening. So that the sun shone and the doves cooed and the crested hoopoe ran across the path, of what import was a Royal En- gineer — or even two? So the Brownes rode valiantly down among the hills, she upon her Diagram and he upon the charger of Rajpore, and when they really went with wings and glory, the syce-boys running behind attached themselves to the tails of the Diagram and the charger of Rajpore respectively, relieving their own legs and adding greatly to the imposing character of the 7. lilc Mr. ic other •val Ell- V I'd from ayliglit, e. The 1 gone ; Military mean to ipcfully- liable in )yal En- •re, any- 3t what- mended ere v/as long the though, zar tats, 3urrence horizon evening. crested )yal En- iy down charger lory, the Is of the ing their er of the U < 1 o ?! O B! U f 2(;8 /•///'; SIMPLE ADVENTUKES OF A MEMSAHIH. cjiviilcjuk-. Ami so tlioy wont down, down, wlioro i)iir|)Ii'-vi'inrd bt'goniiis grow boside the courso of tlio springs, unci tall troos lluttorod tlioir ghostly wliito louvos ovor tlio vorgo, sind orchids blooinod on dead branchos up ovorhcad. As thoy wont thoy mot an invalid boing takon to ('hakrata for ohango of air and soono. IIo rodo in a dandy evidontly mado for his spooial accommoda- tion, oarriod by two ooolios; and a chuprassio attonded him, a beautiful chuprassio with a rod sash and a modal. Tho invalid looked at tho lirownes in a way that askod their solicitude, but he made them no salutation because he was only a big brown and white nuistilT, and besides, he didn't fool up to promiscuous conversation with strangers who might or might not be desir- able. ]iut when young Browne stopped the chuprassio and the coolies, and called him " old fellow " and asked him where he was going and how he had stood the journey, he gave young lirowne a paw and a depreciating turn of his head over the dandy which distinctly said, "Liver complications. We all come to it. Your turn next hot weather. This country isn't fit for a Christian to live in! " and one more homesick alien passed on to look for his lost well-being in the Hills. Mrs. Browne hoped he would find it, he was such a dear dog. 1 THE SIMPLE Al>\'E\TrRES OE A MEMSAI/Ui. -99 ('IIAP'I'KIJ .wvir. ri'lIIM lirowiiCvS li;i(l left tlie sunset Ik'IiuhI tlicm red iipoti tlic -L hei^'hls wlieii tliey reached Fnttelipore, but tliere was still light eiH)u;^li for tliem to descry a white liorse from afar, brows- ing in the coinj)ound, and tliey looked at each other in unalTected melancholy, saying, "They're here." Jf they wanted further evidence they had it in the person of the khansainah, who ran forth wagging his beard, and exclaiming that there was no room — how should there be any room for these Presences from with- out, when two Engineer-sahibs had already come ! Among his other duties one Engineer-sahib had to report the shorteonnngs of this khansamah. Should it be written among tliem that the Engineer-sahib was rendered uncomfortable in his own house ! Ah, that the Prcvsence could be persuaded that there was anotiier bungalow five miles further on, which the Presence knew per- fectly well there w^as not. "Khansamah," replied young Browne, "two sahibs do not require four apartments and all the beds. Go aiul make it right; and, look you, bring a long chair for the memsahib that thy back be not smitten," for by this time the heart of (Jeorge l^rowne, of Macintyre and Ma^intyre's, Calcutta, had waxed hot within him by reason of Royal J]ngineers. The khansamah returned presently and announced that the Presences might have beds, but a long chair — here the khansamah held his back well behind him that it should not be smitten — he 300 TJIE SIMPLE ADVENTURES OF A MEM SAHIB. could not give, for the biirra Eiiginoer-sahib sat upon the one, and the /^," responded the Koyal En