Mr. Jervis, Vol. 1 (of 3)Croker, B. M. (Bithia Mary)
History
Mr. Jervis, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Croker, B. M. (Bithia Mary)
British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction
Letter from Mrs. Brande, Allahabad, to Pelham Brande, Esq., Shirani:--
“DEAR P.
“She arrived yesterday, so you may expect us on Saturday. Send Nubboo
down to Nath Tal Dâk Bungalow on Thursday, to cook our dinner, and
don’t allow him _more_ than _six_ coolies and _one_ pony. Honor seems
to feel the heat a great deal, though she is thin, and not fat like
me. At first sight, I must tell you, I was _terribly_ disappointed.
When I saw her step out of the railway carriage, a tall girl in a
crumpled white dress, with a hideous bazar topee, and no puggaree--her
face very pale and covered with smuts, I felt ready to burst into
tears. She looked very nervous and surprised too. However, of course
I said nothing, she wasn’t to know that I had asked for the _pretty
one_, and we drove back to the Hodsons’ both in the very lowest
spirits. She was tired, the train had broken down, and they had all
to get out and walk miles in the middle of the night. After a while,
when she had had her tea, and a bath, and a real good rest, and
changed her dress, I declare I thought it was another person, when she
walked into the room. I found her uncommonly good-looking, and in five
minutes’ time she seemed really pretty. She has a lovely smile and
teeth to match, and fine eyes, and when she speaks her face lights up
wonderfully. Her hair is brown, just plain brown, no colour in it, but
very thick and fine. I know you will be awfully disappointed in her
complexion, as you were such a one for admiring a beautiful skin. She
has not _got any at all_.
“Just a pale clear colour and no more, but her figure is most
beautiful. Indeed, every time I look at her I notice something new;
now the nape of her neck, now her ears--all just so many models. She
is, of course, a little shy and strange, but is simple and easily
pleased; and, thank goodness, has no _grand airs_. I took her to
Madame Peter (such stuff her calling herself Pierre) to order some
gowns for dinner parties. I thought of a figured yellow satin and a
ruby plush, she being dark; but she would not _hear_ of them, and all
she would take was a couple of cottons. I can see she wants to choose
her own clothes, and that she would like to have a say in _mine_ too;
and knows a good deal about dress, and fashions, and is clever at
milinery (I always forget if there are two ‘L’s,’ but you won’t mind).
She says she is fond of dancing and tennis, but cannot ride or sing,
which is a pity.
“She has brought a fiddle with her, and she _plays_ on it, she tells
me. It reminds _me_ of a blind beggar with a dog for coppers, but the
Hodsons say it is all the go at home; they admire Honor immensely.
“I suppose Mrs. Langrishe’s girl has arrived. I hear she is no taller
than sixpence worth of half-pence, but the _biggest flirt_ in India.
“Yours affectionately,
“SARABELLA BRANDE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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