hunt and of Miss Westonhaugh in
particular. Isaacs joined with the rest, and though he only drank some
sherbet, as I watched his bright eyes and pale cheek, I thought that
never knight drank truer toast to his lady. Miss Westonhaugh rose and
went out, leaving us to smoke for a while. The conversation was general,
and turned on the chase, of course. In a few minutes Isaacs dropped his
cigarette and went quietly out. I determined to detain the rest as long
as possible, and I seconded Mr. Ghyrkins in passing the claret briskly
round, telling all manner of stories of all nations and peoples--ancient
tales that would not amuse a schoolboy in America, but which were a
revelation of profound wit and brilliant humour to the unsophisticated
British mind. By immense efforts--and I hate to exert myself in
conversation--I succeeded in prolonging the session through a cigar and
a half, but at last I was forced to submit to a move; and with a
somewhat ancient remark from Mr. Ghyrkins, to the effect that all good
things must come to an end, we returned to the drawing-room.

Isaacs and Miss Westonhaugh were looking over some English photographs,
and she was enthusiastically praising the beauties of Gothic
architecture, while Isaacs was making the most of his opportunity, and
taking a good look at her as she bent over the album. After we came in,
she made a little music at the tuneless piano--there never was a piano
in India yet that had any tune in it--playing and singing a little, very
prettily. She sang something about a body in the rye, and then something
else about drinking only with the eyes, to which her brother sang a sort
of second very nicely. I do not understand much about music, but I
thought the allusion to Isaacs' temperance in only drinking with his
eyes was rather pointed. He said, however, that he liked it even better
with a second than when she sang it alone, so I argued that it was not
the first time he had heard it.

"Mr. Isaacs," said she, "you have often promised to sing something
Persian for us. Will you not keep your word now?"

"When we are among the tigers, Miss Westonhaugh, next week. Then I will
try and borrow a lute and sing you something."

It was late for an Indian dinner-party, so we took our departure soon
afterwards, having agreed to meet the following afternoon at Annandale
for the game of polo, in which Westonhaugh said he would also play. He
and Isaacs made some appointment for the morning; they s