Part 11 (1/2)

'Yes,' said Miss F., 'that's what most makes me regret coming to India; we find no people here with handles to their names.'

'Come, come,' said Mrs. B., 'you must not exactly say that; we had Lord E., and his friend the Earl of C., here but a very short time ago.'

'Ah, but there's no one of that rank here now,' returned Miss F., 'and I really don't care much to meet those who are not in some way _distingue_.'

'That's to be expected,' replied Mrs. B. 'Being yourself, by your natural refinement of mind, so _distingue_, you would, as a matter of course, like to meet distinguished people; we will see what we can do to introduce you to someone with a handle to his name. There are two or three officers belonging to the cla.s.s you admire so much about to join the 13th from England, and as soon as any one of them arrives, I'll make it my business to introduce you.'

'Oh, how very kind of you, Mrs. B.! I thank you very much.'

Mrs. C. and her guest now rose to depart. As soon as they were gone, Mrs. B., Colonel G., and his wife all indulged themselves in an unrestrained fit of laughter. 'I really have more than half a mind to play that girl a trick,' said Mrs. B., 'to punish her for her insufferable affectation.' 'On my word she does her best to make herself ridiculous.' 'Several of my servants are sick, including the cook,' said Mrs. B., 'or I'd give an evening party, and introduce some of our young fellows as people of rank.' 'Let that be no obstacle to the fun,' said Mrs. G. 'I'll give the party; do you introduce your friends.' So the two ladies and Colonel G. engaged heartily in the plot.

In due season invitations were issued to 'a select circle of friends,'

as the stereotyped saying has it, which included the C.'s and Miss Freeman, to an evening party to meet Sir Charles Oakley and Sir Hubert Stanley. Great was the excitement amongst all invited to know all about the strangers, of whom they had never heard.

On the evening named, the guests arrived, and as they did so Colonel G., who was waiting in the hall for that purpose, cautioned everyone to say nothing if, in the strangers, they happened to recognise faces with other names than those adopted for the evening. Everyone saw there was some frolic _in hand_ or _on foot_ (if the latter phrase pleases better), and immediately everyone entered into it so far as to resolve to observe all but say nothing.

Mrs. C. and Miss F. soon made their appearance. Captain C., for some reason, did not go, which, as he was a man of sour disposition, inapprehensive of a joke, was lucky. By and by Mrs. B. and the guests of the evening--or, rather, the guest, Sir Hubert being sick--appeared.

'Indisposed to come, I presume,' said Colonel G. 'So I told him,'

returned Mrs. B. As the drawing-room door opened, a half-caste 'writer,'

dressed in livery for the occasion, announced Mrs. B. and Sir Charles Oakley, who immediately afterwards was formally introduced to Mrs. G.

Irrepressible was the t.i.ttering amongst those who recognised in Sir Charles the jolly, fat, good-humoured Lieutenant Mac----ny of the 13th Dragoons; but under Colonel G.'s sharp supervision all held their peace.

Sir Charles was in high spirits, made himself very amusing and agreeable, and was for the evening a real 'live lion.'

As soon as the introductions were over, Mrs. B. called Miss F. to come and sit beside her. Sir Charles was at the time standing near her chair, and a good deal of fun seemed to be going on between them, if that may be inferred from the laughter.

'You know the Marquis of Sevenoaks, I hear, Miss Freeman,' said the Baronet; 'an old schoolfellow of mine at Eton. Many a thras.h.i.+ng he's had from me. I was in the upper forms, and the Marquis was my f.a.g.'

Miss F. opened her eyes very wide, and then exclaimed: 'Oh, but you're joking, Sir Charles! Surely you can't mean that you thrashed the young Marquis of Sevenoaks?'

'Why not, Miss Freeman? All f.a.gs get their share of licking, and why shouldn't he?'

'Oh, but it's so cruel; and the Marquis must have been quite a little fellow then. It's shocking to think that the bigger boys should have the power to thrash the little ones, and actually be allowed to do it, and in this case to a boy of such high rank--a Marquis. I really can't think it; you're trying to possess me' ('Upon my life!' said Mac----ny, 'I'm not') 'with absurd notions and imaginations. The idea of thras.h.i.+ng a young scion of n.o.bility, quite as a matter of routine, as if he was no better than a tinker or tailor! It's quite preposterous and revolting, and seems almost an act of profanation! I never can believe it.'

'It's a pity, then, you didn't hear the young beggar singing out when he had to hold up.'

Poor Miss Freeman! all her ideas suffered a dreadful kind of revolution.

She was in a sort of stupor; her brain was in a whirl. Could it be possible that a young Marquis could be thrashed at the pleasure of an elder boy merely because that boy sat on another form? To be called a young beggar besides, and to have his sufferings actually made game of by a mere baronet, it was all so dreadful, so astounding, and so utterly opposed to all her preconceived notions, that she was lost in amazement.

'You say, Miss Freeman,' said the Baronet, breaking in on her silent contemplations and reflections, 'that the f.a.gging seems to be a matter of form. Well, so it is as to the seats of the boys, but not at all a matter of form as to the smart of the stripes; that depends on strength of arm.'

'Whatever it depends on,' said Miss F., 'it's very shocking to hear; but I'm persuaded you're hoaxing me. I'll never believe that a young n.o.bleman of such high rank would or could be used in such a way.'

'Very sorry you don't believe,' said the Baronet, 'but all the same it's true; and, after all, his allowance as f.a.g was nothing to what he used to get from old Thwack.u.m regularly every day. Spoony, as the young hero was then called, used to get it regularly for his parsing, and whenever he saw the cane coming he used to begin to blubber, to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of old Snuffy, which was Thwack.u.m's common appellation. The old fellow on these pleasant occasions used to become facetious, and, after his fas.h.i.+on, witty. Spoony in those days was marked pretty strongly by the small-pox, and whenever the tears filled the little pits caused by the pock marks, Snuffy used to say: ”What, Mr. Puteus, the lord of the wells! Why, my little conjuring wand is as potent as the rod of Moses in raising the waters, and in setting the streams a-flowing.

But why begin before there's need? The pleasure's to come, you know.”

The reason he called him _Puteus_ was that this is the Latin for a well, and so afforded opportunity for his allusions, and at the same time for a vile attempt at wit, _i.e._, to call him _Mr. Beauteous_.'