British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
Miss T. I never passed the Higher Standard. But the khansamah is very
patient with me. He doesn't get angry when I talk about sheep's topees,
or order maunds of grain when I mean seers.
CAPT. G. (Aside with intense indignation.) I'd like to see Mir Khan
being rude to that girl! Hullo! Steady the Buffs! (Aloud.) And do you
understand about horses, too?
Miss T. A little--not very much. I can't doctor them, but I know what
they ought to eat, and I am in charge of our stable.
CAPT. G. Indeed! You might help me then. What ought a man to give his
sais in the Hills? My ruffian says eight rupees, because everything is
so dear.
Miss T. Six rupees a month, and one rupee Simla allowance--neither more
nor less. And a grass-cut gets six rupees. That's better than buying
grass in the bazar.
CAPT. G. (Admiringly.) How do you know?
Miss T. I have tried both ways.
CAPT. G. Do you ride much, then? I've never seen you on the Mall.
Miss T. (Aside.) I haven't passed him more than fifty times. (Aloud.)
Nearly every day.
CAPT. G. By Jove! I didn't know that. Ha--Hamm (Pulls at his moustache
and is silent for forty seconds.) Miss T. (Desperately, and wondering
what will happen next.) It looks beautiful. I shouldn't touch it if I
were you. (Aside.) It's all Mamma's fault for not coming before. I will
be rude!
CAPT. G. (Bronzing under the tan and bringing down his hand very
quickly.) Eh! What-at! Oh, yes! Ha! Ha! (Laughs uneasily.) (Aside.)
Well, of all the dashed cheek! I never had a woman say that to me yet.
She must be a cool hand or else--Ah! that nursery-tea!
VOICE PROM THE UNKNOWN. Tchk! Tchk! Tchk!
CAPT. G. Good gracious! What's that?
Miss T. The dog, I think. (Aside.) Emma has been listening, and I'll
never forgive her!
CAPT. G. (Aside.) They don't keep dogs here. (Aloud.) 'Didn't sound like
a dog, did it?
Miss T. Then it must have been the cat. Let's go into the veranda. What
a lovely evening it is!
Steps into veranda and looks out across the hills into sunset. The
CAPTAIN follows.
CAPT. G. (Aside.) Superb eyes! I wonder that I never noticed them
before! (Aloud.) There's going to be a dance at Viceregal Lodge on
Wednesday. Can you spare me one?
Miss T. (Shortly.) No! I don't want any of your charity-dances. You only
ask me because Mamma told you to. I hop and I bump. You know I do!
CAPT. G. (Aside.) That's true, but little girls shouldn't understand
these things. (Aloud.) No, on my word, I don't. You dance beautifully.
Miss T. Then why do you always stand out after half a dozen turns? I
thought officers in the Army didn't tell fibs.
CAPT. G. It wasn't a fib, believe me. I really do want the pleasure of a
dance with you.
Miss T. (Wickedly.) Why? Won't Mamma dance with you any more?
CAPT. G. (More earnestly than the necessity demands.) I wasn't thinking
of your Mother. (Aside.) You little vixen!
Miss T. (Still looking out of the window.) Eh? Oh, I beg your par don. I
was thinking of something else.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account