he uneasy start I had
remarked on former occasions, and rising hurriedly, came to meet me.

"Good evening, Marian," I said, taking her by the hand. "I should have
been here sooner but for that surly gardener of yours, who kept me
waiting at the gate."

"I will speak to him about it," she answered.

It was not light enough for me to see her face, but I observed that
she spoke in a tone of indifference, as if scarcely heeding what she
said. At the same time she took her seat on the divan, and asked me to
sit by her.

"Is your father well?" I asked, putting the question out of courtesy,
for by this time we both knew that the poor man was ruined by his
dreadful habit, from which it was impossible he should ever be
released.

"Yes, I think so. I have not seen him lately," she said, still with
the same distracted air.

I will confess, plainly, that I had begun to have fears for her, lest
either the ravages of the climate, or the sufferings she had
undergone, had wrought upon her mind.

"I come to bring you bad news," I went on. "The Nabob has died."

"So I have understood," Marian replied in the same listless way. Then,
seeming to recollect herself, she added quickly--"I learnt the news
this afternoon from a friend."

Since her arrival I knew that some of the ladies of the settlement had
shown Marian some kindness, inviting her to their houses occasionally.
One of these ladies, I concluded, had been beforehand with me in my
intelligence.

"I am glad to see you so easy under the circumstances," I said,
feeling perhaps a little jealous. "I suppose you know that the new
Nabob is no friend to the Company, and that we may have trouble with
him before many months are past."

"I suppose it may be so. But though Surajah Dowlah may have grounds
for complaint against the Council here, I can't think he will carry
his resentment so far as to injure the peaceable inhabitants of
Calcutta."

I turned towards her, amazed.

"What do you say?" I cried. "You speak as though you were in the
Nabob's interests! Have you been listening to the talk of some Moor or
other? If so, let me tell you that they are nothing but liars and
traitors, every mother's son of them!"

"You needn't be so fierce!" she returned, more warmly than she had yet
spoken. "I have had no conversation with any Moor, or Gentoo either,
upon the subject. Surely I may have leave to think as I choose,
without being bound to take my opinions from Mr. Athelstane Fo