dge and the doctor had of
course their female allies, and had of course repeated to them all
the boasts of the fortunate major and of the fortunate captain. And
was it not equally of course that these ladies should again repeat
the same to Mrs. Cox and Mrs. Price? For she who was so divinely
perfect was Mrs. Cox, and she of the soft, lustrous eyes was Mrs.
Price. Those who think that such a course was not natural know little
of voyages home from Calcutta to Southampton.

But the major, who had been the admirer of Mrs. Cox, had done more
than this--had done worse, we may say. The world of the good ship
"Lahore," which was bringing them all home, had declared ever since
they had left Point de Galle, that the major and Mrs. Cox were
engaged.

Now, had the major, in boasting of his favours, boasted also of
his engagement, no harm perhaps might have come of it. The sweet
good-nature of the widow might have overlooked that offence. But he
had boasted of the favours and pooh-poohed the engagement! "Hinc illae
lacrymae." And who shall say that the widow was wrong? And as to the
other widow, Mrs. Price, she was tired of Captain M'Gramm. A little
fact had transpired about Captain M'Gramm, namely, that he was going
home to his wife. And therefore the two ladies, who had conspired
together to be civil to the two warriors, now conspired together
to be uncivil to them. In England such things are done, as it were,
behind the scenes: there these little quarrels are managed in
private. But a passage home from India admits of but little privacy;
there is no behind the scenes. The two widows were used to this,
and quarrelled with their military admirers in public without any
compunction.

"Hinc illae lacrymae." But the major was not inclined to shed his tears
without an effort. He had pooh-poohed the idea of marrying Mrs. Cox;
but like many another man in similar circumstances, he was probably
willing enough to enter into such an arrangement now that the
facility of doing so was taken from him. It is possible that Mrs.
Cox, when she turned her pretty shoulder on Major Biffin, may herself
have understood this phasis of human nature.

The major was a handsome man, with well-brushed hair, well-trimmed
whiskers, a forehead rather low, but very symmetrical, a well-shaped
nose, and a small, pursy mouth. The worst of his face was that you
could by no means remember it. But he knew himself to be a handsome
man, and he could not understand h