“Now, Clar,” she said impressively, “I have done a good thing for you. This is a splendid chance. Be sure you make the most of it; if you please the ‘uncle,’ as you call him, he will help you to something better by-and-by.” Clarence nodded sagaciously. He was in the highest spirits. “You are not really limited to time, you know,” she continued, in a whisper. “I know,” and there was a significant look in his right eye, almost approaching to a wink. “And you will be manager--and paymaster.” “Guide, councillor, and friend, you _bet_.” “And now, dear boy, _do_ be prudent; don’t get into any more entanglements with grass widows; don’t get into any more betting or gambling scrapes--promise me.” “I shall be as steady as old Time or young Mark himself, and I can’t say more. Well, good-bye--and thanks awfully, Lina. I must say you _do_ stick to your own people”--adding, with a hasty kiss--“I see we are off.” As the carriage moved slowly past the Pollitts, who were standing side by side, Clarence flung himself back with a boisterous laugh, as he exclaimed-- “I declare, the uncle seems quite cut up--ha, ha, ha! Upon my soul, I believe the old chap is _crying_!” CHAPTER X. MAJOR BYNG’S SUGGESTION. Major Byng, a wiry, dried-up little officer, with remarkably thin legs and sporting proclivities, was reclining in a long chair, in the verandah of the Napier Hotel, Poonah, smoking his after-breakfast “Trichy,” and running his eye over the “Asian” pocket-book. “Hullo, Byng, old man!” cried a loud cheerful voice, and looking up, his amaze was depicted in the countenance he turned upon Clarence Waring. “Waring! Why--I thought,” putting down his book and sitting erect. “Thought I had gone home--sold out and was stone broke. But here I am, you see, on my legs again.” “Delighted to hear it,” with a swift glance at Waring’s well-to-do air and expensive-looking clothes. “Sit down, my dear boy,” he cried cordially, “sit down and have a cheroot, and tell me all about yourself and what has brought you back again to the land of regrets? Is it tea, coffee, or gold?” “Gold, in one sense. I am companion to a young millionaire, or rather to the nephew of a man who has so much money--and _no_ children--that he does not know what to do.” “And who is the young man? Does _he_ know what to do?” “His name is Jervis--his rich uncle is married to my sister; we are connections, you see, and when he expressed a desire to explore the gorgeous East, my sister naturally suggested _me_ for the post of guide, philosopher, and friend.” Here Major Byng gave a short sharp laugh, like a bark. “We landed in Bombay ten days ago, and are going to tour about and see the world.” “What is the programme?”