entertained royally; he horsed himself well; he gave dances; he was
a power in the land; and he behaved as such.

Consider that everything I am writing of took place in an almost
pre-historic era in the history of British India. Some folk may
remember the years before lawn-tennis was born when we all played
croquet. There were seasons before that, if you will believe me,
when even croquet had not been invented, and archery--which was
revived in England in 1844--was as great a pest as lawn-tennis is
now. People talked learnedly about "holding" and "loosing,"
"steles," "reflexed bows," "56-pound bows," "backed" or "self-yew
bows," as we talk about "rallies," "volleys," "smashes," "returns,"
and "16-ounce rackets."

Miss Beighton shot divinely over ladies' distance--60 yards, that
is--and was acknowledged the best lady archer in Simla. Men called
her "Diana of Tara-Devi."

Barr-Saggott paid her great attention; and, as I have said, the
heart of her mother was uplifted in consequence. Kitty Beighton
took matters more calmly. It was pleasant to be singled out by a
Commissioner with letters after his name, and to fill the hearts of
other girls with bad feelings. But there was no denying the fact
that Barr-Saggott was phenomenally ugly; and all his attempts to
adorn himself only made him more grotesque. He was not christened
"The Langur"--which means gray ape--for nothing. It was pleasant,
Kitty thought, to have him at her feet, but it was better to escape
from him and ride with the graceless Cubbon--the man in a Dragoon
Regiment at Umballa--the boy with a handsome face, and no
prospects. Kitty liked Cubbon more than a little. He never