In front of them, and standing in groups here and there, were numerous officers of the different regiments at the station, fine, handsome young fellows, for the most part, in the bloom of life, on whom the sword, and time, and care, and the airs of the death-concocting jungles, had yet to do their work. There they were, laughing the light laugh of the careless heart, and doing and saying all those things, the exact counterpart of which, perhaps, had been said and done in that very bungalow by many a set as jocund as they, who had gone before them, had run their brief Indian career, died, and been forgotten. Then, as a sort of counterpoise to the youth of the party, were certain portly colonels and majors, button-holding in corners over grave discussions of off-reckonings, changes of stations, &c., their goodly and well-matured persons contrasting with those of the slender youths around—as do the gnarled and bulky oaks of many a winter, with the tall and slender saplings of the forest. Then there was a jovial old surgeon from the north of the Tweed, who took snuff out of a mull, and cracked the driest of jokes in the crabbedest of tongues; and two or three _distingué_-looking civilians, temporary visitants to Barrackpore, exhibiting, in the studied simplicity of their attire and well-tied cravats, a striking contrast to the gay uniforms of the military—who, poor fellows, too often illustrate the proverb, that “all is not gold that glitters;” and hence, indeed, the civilian consoles himself for wanting it on his coat, by the comfortable consideration that he has _quantum suff._ of it in his pocket. Particularly conspicuous amongst the company assembled at Mrs. Brownstout’s, was a jocose old collector, the life and soul of the party, who, being remarkably ill-favoured, and very good-natured, seemed to feel himself privileged, without danger of misconstruction, to be wondrously facetious with the young ladies, whom he roundly declared were all in love with him, and gave him no rest or peace with their incessant attentions. “There now you see, there it is,” said he, starting pettishly away, and looking piteously and appealingly to the company, as Miss Maria touched his elbow, and asked him to take some tea; “there it is again; you see she won’t let me alone.” I learnt afterwards that he had been an old friend of the deceased major, with whom he had hunted and shot, and drank pale ale, on and off, for five-and-twenty years; that he was, moreover, Maria’s godfather, and the true friend of the family, by whom he was consulted on all weighty and important matters. Though a systematic drole or humourist, he was at bottom a man of sound judgment and extensive knowledge, and the most benevolent of human kind.