back to Meean Meer, having seen my Edith looking as bonny as ever, and learnt that she is still of the same mind as when we gathered shells together—eh?
Edith.—You are a very, very naughty, dear old Frank! But you must be hungry?
Wilmot.—Well, yes—rather. But tell me, Edith, dear, who was the muffin-faced young gentleman in spectacles who came and slanged me this morning? Never was so near punching a man's head in all my life.
Edith.—Punching his head! Why, Frank, that's the most distinguished and rising of young Indian Civilians; he says you are the most abandoned ruffian he ever saw, and he wants to send you to the Andamans. He's a Judicial Assistant, and he's staying in our camp. He is very clever, very learned, and—(maliciously)—when you come to know him, and are not a loafer, you know, very nice; and he's teaching me all sorts of things.
Wilmot.—Deuced kind of him, confound him!
Edith.—I'm sorry he was rude to you, but if you will put yourself in equivocal positions you must take the consequences. But he might come in any minute. Please be a horrid loafer again, and have some breakfast. (Calls khitmutgar.) Oh! but Frank, what will the khitmutgár think if he sees us talking together?
Wilmot.—Khitmutgárs don't think. They wait at table.
(Wilmot seats himself at table. Edith carves, and the khitmutgár hands breakfast.)
Edith.—Papa says you are an abandoned scoundrel, but that I am to give you ham and eggs, hunters' beef, chicken curry and pâté, and that being a ruffian, you probably smoked.
Wilmot (with his mouth full).—Why, he is almost worthy to be your father, Edith!
Edith.-Do you take tea or coffee, and do you like plenty of sugar?
Wilmot.—Tea, please, and as much sugar as you like.
(Sees Smallweed, who enters with a large inscription in his hand, and rises, making a military salute. Stands at attention behind the table.)
Smallweed.—Well, sir! What are you doing here?.
Wilmot.—A'avin' breakfast, sir!
Smallweed.—So I see. But Mr. Bulthrop never meant this
