sometimes. But I didn't know that there were men-dowds, too.'

Then, for the first time, it occurred to Otis Yeere that his clothes
wore rather the mark of the ages. It will be seen that his friendship
with Mrs. Hauksbee had made great strides.

As that lady truthfully says, a man is never so happy as when he is
talking about himself. From Otis Yeere's lips Mrs. Hauksbee,
before long, learned everything that she wished to know about the
subject of her experiment: learned what manner of life he had led
in what she vaguely called 'those awful cholera districts'; learned,
too, but this knowledge came later, what manner of life he had
purposed to lead and what dreams he had dreamed in the year of
grace '77, before the reality had knocked the heart out of him. Very
pleasant are the shady bridle-paths round Prospect Hill for the
telling of such confidences.

'Not yet,' said Mrs. Hauksbee to Mrs. Maliowe. 'Not yet. I must
wait until the man is properly dressed, at least. Great heavens, is it
possible that he doesn't know what an honour it is to be taken up
by Me!'

Mrs. Hauksbee did not reckon false modesty as one of her failings.

'Always with Mrs. Hauksbee!' murmured Mrs. Mallowe, with her
sweetest smile, to Otis. 'Oh you men, you men! Here are our
Punjabis growling because you've monopolised the nicest woman
in Simla. They'll tear you to pieces on the Mall, some day, Mr.
Yeere.'