subdued. He stands in doorways and strokes
his moustache. He nods sadly to you as you pass. He is preoccupied
with--himself, [some suppose; others aver his office.] He has a
motherly whisper for Secretaries and Members of Council. His way with
ladies is sisterly--undemonstratively affectionate. He tows up rajas
to H.E., and stands in the offing. His attitude towards rajas is one
of melancholy reserve. He will perform the prescribed observances, if
he cannot approve of them. Indeed, generally, he disapproves of the
Indian people, though he condones their existence. For a brother in
aiguillettes there is a Masonic smile and a half-embarrassed
familiarity, as if found out in acting his part. But confidence is
soon restored with melancholy glances around, and profane persons who
may be standing about move uneasily away.
An A.D.C. should have no tastes. He is merged in "the house." He must
dance and ride admirably; he ought to shoot; he may sing and paint in
water-colours, or botanise a little, and the faintest aroma of the
most volatile literature will do him no harm; but he cannot be allowed
preferences. If he has a weakness for very pronounced collars and
shirt-cuffs in mufti, it may be connived at, provided he be honestly
nothing else but the man in collars and cuffs.
When a loud, joyful, and steeplechasing Lord, in the pursuit of
pleasure and distant wars, dons the golden cords for a season, the
world understands that this is masquerading, skittles, and a joke. One
must not confound the ideal A.D.C. with such a figure.
The A.D.C. has four distinct aspects or phases--(1) the full summer
sunshine and bloom of scarlet and gold for Queen's birthdays and high
ceremonials; (2) the dark frock-coats and belts in which to canter
behind his Lord in; (3) the evening tail-coat, turned down with light
blue and adorned with the Imperial arms on gold buttons; (4) and,
finally, the quiet disguises of private life.
It is in the sunshine glare of scarlet and gold that the A.D.C. is
most awful and unapproachable; it is in this aspect that the splendour
of vice-Imperialism seems to beat upon him most fiercely. The Rajas of
Rajputana, the diamonds of Golconda, the gold of the Wynaad, the opium
of Malwa, the cotton of the Berars, and the Stars of India seem to be
typified in the richness of his attire and the conscious superiority
of his demeanour. Is he not one of the four satellites of that Jupiter
who swims in the highest azure f
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