Captain Russell began to hate the Commissioner of the Aurungpore district very cordially, as well as all the unmarried officers of the 193rd--half of them for daring to aspire to the hand of his charmer, and the other half for being such soulless clods as to refrain from kneeling before the shrine at which he worshipped. Needless to add, then, that he spent a most unhappy day and sleepless night. Jim was the eldest son, and Ted the third, of Major-General Russell, a soldier who had distinguished himself as a youngster in the Gurkha war of 1815, and later in the Afghan and Sikh campaigns. Jim had been ten years in India, and had fought against the Sikhs and helped to conquer their country, the Punjab, before he had been out many months. A year or two later he and his cousin, Charlie Dorricot, had been shut up in the small fort of Chiras, with a mere handful of sepoys, and they had come through the siege with credit. Dorricot was now a lieutenant in the Sirmur Battalion, stationed in the Dehra Dun, near Simla. The evening following the above conversation, Jim burst into Ted's quarters. His face was flushed but beaming, and his eyes seemed to dance through sheer happiness. By way of brotherly greeting he struck the ensign in the chest. "Well, young 'un," he cheerfully exclaimed, "you may congratulate me!" "I'll--I'll knock you down!" answered Ted, staggering from the blow. "You bully, why am I to be permitted to congratulate you?" By way of reply, Jim took hold of his scandalized brother and whirled him round the room. "Because I'm engaged to be married, Ted, to the dearest, sweetest, best girl in the world!" "Oh!" gasped Ted. He had divined the cause of Jim's excitement, but the opportunity for making fun of his senior was too good to be thrown away. "And what's the dearest, sweetest, best, loveliest, most adorable girl in the world thinking of to have you? Besides, what about Miss Woodburn? I thought you were sweet on her, you know." Captain Russell was a sterling good fellow, but his nature was somewhat slower than that of his brother. He stared at the cheeky youngster for a moment before he grasped the meaning of the sarcasm. He recollected that these events formed privileged occasions for youthful wit, and grinned affably; having gained his heart's desire he could afford to be easy-tempered and tolerant of satire. "You young cub," he laughed, "you're too facetious for a small boy. It's Ethel Woodburn I'm engaged to, as you know very well." "Oh!" said Ted slowly. "I didn't recognize her from that glowing description." Russell Minor dodged out of reach, keeping the table between them. "Pax, old man, I'll apologize; I s'pose she's not a bad sort--for a girl. So I congratulate you--that is, if you _had_ to go and get hooked I don't know that you could have done better. Have you written home yet?" "Do be sensible. How could I? Only settled it a couple of hours ago, and I'm going to write now. Wonder what the mater'll think!"