house," as the natives term a museum. A wonder-guide had attached himself to us as we made the rounds, greatly to the annoyance of Samuel Daniel, whose severest manner could not rout him. At the door each handed us an umbrella, and as we went down the steps Daniel thrust away the self-appointed guide and began: "Your ladyships"; but the rival slipped past, opened the carriage door, and, bowing, said: "Your highnesses." The constant "ladyships" that we everywhere received declared how the wily Hindu sees and plays upon the weaknesses of the alien race he knows best, and the "highnesses" was climax of the play upon snobbery.
One never could have greater need for an astral body than in Madras, where we drove and drove to get to any place—through miles of banian tunnels and green-vaulted avenues, along the Marina road by the sea, and through the Adyar suburb, where Theosophists still congregate, despite the cruel exposure of the whole Helena Blavatsky-Mahatma-Yogi frauds in that very quarter years ago.
Life is lived on narrow margins in India. One cannot get "something for nothing" in Madras; and every purchase sent to the hotel came with a footnote to the bill: "Coolie not paid." When Samuel Daniel had left for his home, the next post brought us a card: "Your ladyships: I forgetfully leave my carpet and blanket with David's bed at Guindy Bridge. Please David have send to, as railway parcel, to station-master at Trichinopoli." We ordered the room butler to send a responsible person to the station and—but before I could finish my remarks
