India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction
“Well, Isobel, I hardly expected that you were going to run the
establishment just at first; indeed, as far as that goes, one’s butler,
if he is a good man, has pretty well a free hand. He is generally
responsible, and is in fact what we should call at home housekeeper--he
and the cook between them arrange everything. I say to him, ‘Three
gentlemen are coming to tiffen.’ He nods and says ‘Atcha, sahib,’ which
means ‘All right, sir,’ and then I know it will be all right. If I have
a fancy for any special thing, of course I say so. Otherwise, I leave it
to them, and if the result is not satisfactory, I blow up. Nothing can
be more simple.”
“But how about bills, uncle?”
“Well, my dear, the butler gives them to me, and I pay them. He has been
with me a good many years, and will not let the others--that is to
say, the cook and the syce, the washerman, and so on, cheat me beyond a
reasonable amount. Do you, Rumzan?”
Rumzan, who was standing behind the Major’s chair, in a white turban and
dress, with a red and white sash round his waist, smiled.
“Rumzan not let anyone rob his master.”
“Not to any great extent, you know, Rumzan. One doesn’t expect more than
that.”
“It is just the same here, Miss Hannay, as it is everywhere else,”
said the Doctor; “only in big establishments in England they rob you of
pounds, while here they rob you of annas, which, as I have explained to
you, are two pence halfpennies. The person who undertakes to put down
little peculations enters upon a war in which he is sure to get the
worst of it. He wastes his time, spoils his temper, makes himself and
everyone around him uncomfortable, and after all he is robbed. Life is
too short for it, especially in a climate like this. Of course, in time
you get to understand the language; if you see anything in the bills
that strikes you as showing waste you can go into the thing, but as a
rule you trust entirely to your butler; if you cannot trust him, get
another one. Rumzan has been with your uncle ten years, so you are
fortunate. If the Major had gone home instead of me, and if you had
had an entirely fresh establishment of servants to look after, the case
would have been different; as it is, you will have no trouble that way.”
“Then what are my duties to be, uncle?”
“Your chief duties, my dear, are to look pleasant, which will evidently
be no trouble to you; to amuse me and keep me in a good temper as far
as possible; to keep on as good terms as may be with the other ladies of
the station; and, what will perhaps be the most difficult part of your
work, to snub and keep in order the young officers of our own and other
corps.”
Isobel laughed. “That doesn’t sound a very difficult programme, uncle,
except the last item; I have already had a little experience that way,
haven’t I, Doctor? I hope I shall have the benefit of your assistance in
the future, as I had aboard the ship.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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