view of Europe to the cultivated man without encumbrances.
His cousin winked at Yorke by way of hint that he was going to draw the captain out.
"No, no, Ted, that won't do. You don't mean to tell me that you're not going to make the running in that line. Wouldn't I, just, if I had your chances! Why, I suppose you are in and out of the residency like a tame dog?"
Captain Sparrow was evidently nettled at his cousin's want of reverence, displayed, too, before a third party; but he condoned it in consideration of the opening afforded to talk about himself, so replied, drawing up both himself and his shirt-collar —
"If you mean that I have the entrée of Cunningham's house, just as he has of mine, of course. But we don't carry the Jack-and-Tom school of manners which appears still to pervade native infantry messes into civilized life, my dear fellow. Of course I could invite myself there at any time; but now Cunningham is so much occupied with his daughter that he leaves all culchery business to his deputy — and in fact you must excuse my running away presently, but I have scarcely a minute to call my own; and, to tell you the truth, I don't much care about making one of the party when they are simply en famille, — one must draw the line somewhere." And Captain Sparrow looked mysterious, and stopped, as evidently inviting further inquiry.
Tills was at once made, Yorke feeling more interested than ever in the conversation.
Captain Sparrow explained that Miss Cunningham had brought out a French servant with her, a lady's-maid, at any rate she came out as a second-class passenger on board the steamer; but now, forsooth, her mistress had established her as a sort of companion, and she took her meals at the same table with Mr. Cunningham and his daughter, when they were alone.
"I shouldn't mind that a bit," said Spragge, "if she's nice-looking, and don't eat with her knife."
"That's hardly a criterion, my good fellow," replied the captain, with an air of superiority; "if you had travelled on the Continent, you would have seen quite elegant women at the tables d'hôte hipping up their food with their knives. That's merely an insular prejudice of yours. Oh no; the girl is well enough in her way, but still there is an etiquette in these things."
"I shouldn't care a bit about etiquette, for my part," said Spragge. "If she's a pretty girl, I'd rather take her in to dinner any day than Mrs. Polwheedle. But I shouldn't be able to talk her lingo, which would be a drawback."
"You need not be alarmed on that score. Justine understands English perfectly, and talks it well enough, and without the vulgarisms some people employ; but still there is a propriety in these things you know — est modus in rebus."
One crumb of comfort Yorke carried away, as he mounted his pony to ride home. Sparrow was not a favoured suitor, as appeared at first sight to be his natural position. Unless a thorough dissembler, which was evidently not his character, he could not be at present even a suitor at all. This conclusion reconciled Yorke to having partaken of luncheon under his roof, which at one time during the visit had seemed to the young fellow as opposed to honourable dealing. This at any rate was some consolation, as he cantered on his pony by the side of his companion, depressed, and yet not hopeless.
"Something like a young lady, by Jove!" cried Spragge, breaking the silence at last, as, on nearing the cantonments, they reduced their pace to a walk. "You don't often see such beauty as that in these parts. And no end of money, too, I expect. Old Cunningham must have saved handsomely; for beyond giving dinners and keeping elephants, he can't have had anything to spend his pay on. All those fellows in red tunics are kept up for him by government, and, I daresay, half his private servants too, if the truth were known. It's only we poor beggars of subalterns who have to pay for our bearers."
"How much does the commissioner get?"
"Four thousand one hundred and sixty-six rupees a month, the pay of twenty ensigns; think of that, my boy: the mind almost refuses to grasp such a sum. My cousin Teddy gets a thousand a month, which is pretty well, and spends it, too, on his pictures, and side-dishes, and fiddle-faddle. However, he's not half a bad fellow, Ted isn't, after all; he stood security for me once, when I was harder up even than I am now. See what it is to get a civil appointment. I wish I could make up my mind to pass; but
