As it happened, we weren't allowed
to part with her as soon as we could have wished. She discovered we
were staying at the same hotel, so we had to dine together, and she
talked the Taj all through dinner, spattering it with adjectives,
while Boggley grunted at intervals. It was refreshing to see Mr. Brand
again. He seems to be enjoying India vastly, and had three quite new
stories, though if he didn't laugh so much telling them it would be
easier to see the point. Boggley and he loved each other at once.
After dinner, when the men were smoking, the Rocking Horse Fly began
to get arch--don't you hate people when they are arch?--and said
surely I was never going home without capturing some heart. I replied
stoutly and truthfully that I was.
"Naughty girl!" said the R.H.F. "You haven't made the most of your
opportunities. Don't you know what they call girls who come out for
the cold weather?"
I said I didn't.
"They are called 'The Fishing Fleet,'" she said sweetly.
I said "Oh," because I didn't know what else to say, feeling as I did
so remiss.
I have heard--Mr. Townley told me--that long ago when a ship from
England arrived in the Hoogly a cannon was fired, and all the gay
bachelors left their offices and went to the docks to appraise the new
arrivals. A ball was given on board on the night of arrival, and many
of the girls were engaged before they left the ship. I don't object to
that. It was a fine, sincere way of doing things; but why the subject
of marriage should be made an occasion for archness, for sly looks,
for--in extreme cases--nudgings, passes my comprehension.
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