“Just as I pay the bills,” interrupted his companion, “and have a prosperous air, but I never _said_ I was rich.” (Nevertheless, he acted and spoke precisely as a man to whom money was no object. Nor was it, being not his own, but Mr. Pollitt’s.) “When I started to play polo, men were politely amazed,” continued Jervis; “when I gave fifty rupees for the new harmonium, people looked astonished; the peon with the church-books, who gathers up our Sunday offerings, gazes at my chit for four rupees doubtfully; as he hands it to me, I know that he wonders at my extravagance, and whether I can afford it? We are going to give a bachelors’ ball as a set off against the married ladies’ picnic.” “I hope the supper will be within ten miles of the ball-room,” interposed Waring, briskly. “And Hawks the secretary, a very good sort, said to me, quite confidentially, ‘You are not a rich Johnnie. I’ll let you down easy; I’ll take fifteen rupees.’” “Yes; and what do you think of that young brute Skeggs, who has been going steadily to everything ever since he came up, breakfasts, teas, tiffins, dinners, balls--an ugly, pudding-faced chap?” “Yes, fearfully handicapped by his hands and feet.” “He was asked to join, and make some return for the great hospitality that had been shown to bachelors. He said no, promptly, he would not give an anna; and why, do you suppose?” pausing dramatically. “Because, in his opinion, a young man was a sufficient reward in himself for any amount of civilities.” “Mean beast! He was lunching at the Brandes’ yesterday. But to return to our subject”--feeling conscious that his clever companion was slipping away from it. “You are off to-morrow, and before we go I really think we ought to take the opportunity of each appearing in our true and real character. Are you, like Barkis, willing?” Clarence coloured a deep red, and looked annoyed. “No--I am not--willing,” he said with an effort. “We have only a few months more to play our parts, and I vote we see them out. I adopted the _rôle_ of purse-bearer and leader to satisfy a caprice of yours, as you know, and I mean to stick to it till we are in Bombay Harbour.” “Well, I am very sorry now I was such a sensitive, vain idiot, as to get into a regular funk, simply because a few third-rate globe-trotters threw themselves at my money-bags. Why on earth did you not tell me that they were not a true specimen of Indian society? There are heaps of wealthy men out here--we have met them--heirs to titles, or really distinguished fellows, and no one bothers about them. I was too conceited and too great a fool.” “It’s too late to think of that now!”--with easy scorn. “No, better late than never! I intend to tell the Brandes and Mrs. Sladen, and Clifford, Scrope, Villiers, and one or two other fellows--that I am not what I seem.”