to amuse the rest of his gang;
and all our men-folk here are gilded convicts.'

'But there are scores--'

'I know what you're going to say. Scores of idle men up on leave. I
admit it, but they are all of two objectionable sets. The Civilian who'd
be delightful if he had the military man's knowledge of the world and
style, and the military man who'd be adorable if he had the Civilian's
culture.'

'Detestable word! Have Civilians culchaw? I never studied the breed
deeply.'

'Don't make fun of Jack's Service. Yes. They're like the teapoys in the
Lakka Bazar good material but not polished. They can't help themselves,
poor dears. A Civilian only begins to be tolerable after he has knocked
about the world for fifteen years.'

'And a military man?'

'When he has had the same amount of service. The young of both species
are horrible. You would have scores of them in your salon.'

'I would not!' said Mrs. Hauksbee fiercely.

'I would tell the bearer to darwaza band them. I'd put their own
colonels and commissioners at the door to turn them away. I'd give them
to the Topsham Girl to play with.'

'The Topsham Girl would be grateful for the gift. But to go back to the
salon. Allowing that you had gathered all your men and women together,
what would you do with them? Make them talk? They would all with one
accord begin to flirt. Your salon would become a glorified Peliti's a
"Scandal Point" by lamplight.'

'There's a certain amount of wisdom in that view.'

'There's all the wisdom in the world in it. Surely, twelve Simla seasons
ought to have taught you that you can't focus anything in India; and
a salon, to be any good at all, must be permanent. In two seasons your
roomful would be scattered all over Asia. We are only little bits of
dirt on the hillsides here one day and blown down the road the next. We
have lost the art of talking at least our men have. We have no cohesion.'

'George Eliot in the flesh,' interpolated Mrs. Hauksbee wickedly.

'And collectively, my dear scoffer, we, men and women alike, have no
influence. Come into the verandah and look at the Mall!'

The two looked down on the now rapidly filling road, for all Simla was
abroad to steal a stroll between a shower and a fog.

'How do you propose to fix that river? Look! There's The Mussuck head of
goodness knows what. He is a power in the land, though he does eat like
a costermonger. There's Colonel Blone, and General Grucher, and Sir
Dugald Delane,