"Come, come," he answered, "we are bandying terms and words, as if empty
breath amounted to anything but inanity. Do you really doubt the value
of the institution of marriage?"

"No. Marriage is a very good thing when two people are so poor that they
depend on each other, mutually, for daily bread, or if they are rich
enough to live apart. For a man in my own position marriage would be the
height of folly; an act of rashness only second to deliberate suicide.
Now, you are rich, and if you had but one wife, she living in Delhi and
you in Simla, you would doubtless be very happy."

"There is something in that," said Isaacs. "She might mope and beat the
servants, but she could not quarrel if she were alone. Besides, it is so
much easier to look after one camel than three. I think I must try it."

There was a pause, during which he seemed settling the destiny of the
two who were to be shelved in favour of a monogamic experiment.
Presently he asked if I had brought any horses, and hearing I had not,
offered me a mount, and proposed we should ride round Jako, and perhaps,
if there were time, take a look at Annandale in the valley, where there
was polo, and a racing-ground. I gladly accepted, and Isaacs despatched
one of my servants, the faithful Kiramat Ali, to order the horses.
Meantime the conversation turned on the expedition to Kabul to avenge
the death of Cavagnari. I found Isaacs held the same view that I did in
regard to the whole business. He thought the sending of four Englishmen,
with a handful of native soldiers of the guide regiment to protect them,
a piece of unparalleled folly, on a par with the whole English policy in
regard to Afghanistan.

"You English--pardon me, I forgot you did not belong to them--the
English, then, have performed most of their great acts of valour as a
direct consequence of having wantonly exposed themselves in situations
where no sane man would have placed himself. Look at Balaclava; think of
the things they did in the mutiny, and in the first Afghan war; look at
the mutiny itself, the result of a hair-brained idea that a country like
India could be held for ever with no better defences than the
trustworthiness of native officers, and the gratitude of the people for
the 'kindly British rule.' Poor Cavagnari! when he was here last summer,
before leaving on his mission, he said several times he should never
came back. And yet no better man could have been chosen, whether for
politics