He immediately commenced a series of entertainments, calculated by their unusual number and brilliancy to dazzle the eyes of young Natalian damsels. These latter, accustomed as they were to very occasional and comparatively quiet festivities, and balls at which a few of the subalterns of the small garrison at Fort Napier were their most valued partners, found themselves in a new world of a most fascinating description, all ablaze with gold and scarlet, V.C.’s, C.B.’s, titles, and clever authors. And, what was more, all these striking personages paid them the most gracious attentions—attentions which varied according to the importance of the young ladies’ male relatives to the political scheme afoot. Meanwhile dinner after dinner was given to the said relatives; Sir Garnet Wolseley entertained the whole world, great and small, and the different members of his staff had each his separate duty to perform—his list of people to be “fascinated” in one way or another. For a short time, perhaps, the popularity desired was achieved in consequence of their united and persevering efforts, although from the very first there were voices to be heard casting suspicion upon those who were “drowning the conscience of the colony in sherry and champagne;” and there were others, more far-sighted still, who grimly pointed out to the gratified and flattered recipients of this “princely hospitality” the very reasonable consideration: “You will have to pay for the sherry and champagne yourselves in the end.” Undoubtedly the conviction that the colony would pay dear for its unwonted gaiety—that it was being “humbugged” and befooled—soon stole upon the people. While the daughters enjoyed their balls, their fathers had to buy their ball-dresses; and while the legislative councillors and all their families were perpetually and graciously entertained at Government House, the question began to arise: “What is the object of it all?” All unusual treatment calls forth special scrutiny, and it is to be doubted whether Sir Garnet’s lavish hospitality and (almost) universally dropped honey, with all the painful labours of his brilliant staff combined, did more than awaken the suspicions which a course of proceedings involving less effort would have failed to evoke. Even the most ignorant of Dutch councillors would be wise enough to know that when a magnate of the land treated him and his family as bosom friends and equals of his own, the said magnate must want to “get something out of him”—even the most untaught and ingenuous of colonial maidens would soon rate at their true value the pretty speeches of the “men of note,” who would have had them believe that, after frequenting all the gayest and most fashionable scenes of the great world, they had come to Natal and found their true ideal upon its distant shores.