haven't made the most of your opportunities. Don't you know what they call girls who come out for the cold weather?"
I said I didn't.
"They are called 'The Fishing Fleet,'" she said sweetly
I said "Oh," because I didn't know what else to say, feeling as I did so remiss.
I have heard—Mr. Townley told me—that long ago when a ship from England arrived in the Hoogly a cannon was fired, and all the gay bachelors left their offices and went to the docks to appraise the new arrivals. A ball was given on board on the night of arrival, and many of the girls were engaged before they left the ship. I don't object to that. It was a fine, sincere way of doing things; but why the subject of marriage should be made an occasion for archness, for sly looks, for—in extreme cases—nudgings, passes my comprehension.
The R.H.F. has a way of making common any subject she touches—even the Taj and marriage—so I thought I would go to bed. As I said goodnight I regarded attentively the friend, wondering much how anyone could, of choice, accompany the R.H.F. in her journeyings. She is a very silent person, large and fat and about forty, and her eyes are small
