‘Can’t say,’ said the Colonel. ‘Let me give you a little champagne; heat of the climate, I suppose; too many soldiers, too few ladies.’ ‘India must be a beautiful place, Colonel Branksome,’ observed the grave little damsel, looking out of her big eyes with an air of deliberate conviction. ‘Glorious, splendid; that is, most infernal hole―hot, dull, miserable―full of niggers. Hope I may never stay another year in it. Get my pension, I hope, when I get back and settle up with the remount agent. After that, if they ever catch Billy Branksome out of England again, they may make a Punkah-wallah of him.’ ‘Good gracious, Colonel Branksome!’ said the matter-of-fact danseuse, who now looked as cool as if she had been walking a minuet. ‘I thought all soldiers were fond of India. Oh! there’s that dear old Captain de Bracy.’ ‘Gad! so it is,’ said the Colonel. ‘Look at him, Bessy, strolling in, and bowing to every woman he knows, as if he was at a ball at the Tuileries. Gad! I _did_ see him there last. And what do you think he was doing?―why, dancing in a set with two crowned heads and four princesses of the blood. He and Charles Standish made up the set; by gad!’ ‘Oh, doesn’t he look like a nobleman?’ said the _debutante_ enthusiastically, opening her innocent eyes and feasting on De Bracy’s middle-aged charms. ‘And oh, what lovely, wonderful studs!’ ‘So you’re here, Master Billy, as usual?’ said the object of this highly favourable criticism. ‘Couldn’t keep away from a ball if your life depended upon it. Old enough to know better, ain’t he, Miss Maybell? Happy to see you all here to-night. Not afraid of the stumps and holes? I’m well enough, thanks, Miss Maybell; heard _you_ were coming, and though I seldom go out now―I am here.’ ‘Oh, Captain de Bracy!’ said little Miss Maybell, perfectly overwhelmed with the compliment to her unworthy small self (as she erroneously held, underrating her fresh and innocent beauty), and mentally comparing De Bracy’s appearance with that of a print of the Chevalier Bayard which was among her treasures at home. A great tidal wave of promenading couples overwhelmed and dispersed the _partie carrée_ for a while, so that they were compelled to make arrangements for the next dance, which happened to be a _deux-temps_ waltz. Having relinquished Miss Branksome to De Bracy, and seen pretty little Miss Maybell carried off by young Tom Branksome, who recommended his uncle to try Mrs. Campion, as being a fine woman and of a suitable age, Ernest found, rather to his surprise, that he was a little late, as every possible partner for a fast dance had been secured. The fact was, that the proportion of the sexes was in the inverse ratio to what generally obtains at balls in a more settled state of society. Therefore, more than average alacrity and foresight was necessary to ensure a regular succession of partners.