and Sir Henry Haughton, and Mr. Jellalatty. All Heads of
Departments, and all powerful.'

'And all my fervent admirers,' said Mrs. Hauksbee piously. 'Sir Henry
Haughton raves about me. But go on.'

'One by one, these men are worth something. Collectively, they're just
a mob of Anglo-Indians. Who cares for what Anglo-Indians say? Your salon
won't weld the Departments together and make you mistress of India,
dear. And these creatures won't talk administrative "shop" in a crowd
your salon because they are so afraid of the men in the lower ranks
overhearing it. They have forgotten what of Literature and Art they ever
knew, and the women--'

'Can't talk about anything except the last Gymkhana, or the sins of
their last nurse. I was calling on Mrs. Derwills this morning.'

'You admit that? They can talk to the subalterns though, and the
subalterns can talk to them. Your salon would suit their views
admirably, if you respected the religious prejudices of the country and
provided plenty of kala juggahs.'

'Plenty of kala juggahs. Oh my poor little idea! Kala juggahs in a
salon! But who made you so awfully clever?'

'Perhaps I've tried myself; or perhaps I know a woman who has. I have
preached and expounded the whole matter and the conclusion thereof.'

'You needn't go on. "Is Vanity." Polly, I thank you. These vermin' Mrs.
Hauksbee waved her hand from the verandah to two men in the crowd below
who had raised their hats to her 'these vermin shall not rejoice in a
new Scandal Point or an extra Peliti's. I will abandon the notion of a
salon. It did seem so tempting, though. But what shall I do? I must do
something.'

'Why? Are not Abana and Pharpar.'

'Jack has made you nearly as bad as himself! I want to, of course. I'm
tired of everything and everybody, from a moonlight picnic at Seepee to
the blandishments of The Mussuck.'

'Yes that comes, too, sooner or later. Have you nerve enough to make
your bow yet?'

Mrs. Hauksbee's mouth shut grimly. Then she laughed. 'I think I see
myself doing it. Big pink placards on the Mall: "Mrs. Hauksbee!
Positively her last appearance on any stage! This is to give notice!" No
more dances; no more rides; no more luncheons; no more theatricals with
supper to follow; no more sparring with one's dearest, dearest friend;
no more fencing with an inconvenient man who hasn't wit enough to clothe
what he's pleased to call his sentiments in passable speech; no more
parading of The Mussuck w