Why could not so liberal and large-minded a saheb remain unmarried,
and continue to cast the shadow of his benevolence on those who were
so happy as to eat his salt, instead of taking to himself a madam,
under whom there is no peace night or day? As he sits with his
unemployed friends seeking the consolation of the never-failing
beeree, the ex-butler narrates her ladyship's cantankerous ways, how
she eternally fidgeted over a little harmless dust about the corners
of the furniture, as if it was not the nature of dust to settle on
furniture; how she would have window panes washed which had never
been washed before; her meanness in inquiring about the consumption
of oil and milk and firewood, matters which the saheb had never
stooped to look into; and her unworthy and insulting practice of
locking up stores, and doling them out day by day, not to mention
having the cow milked in her presence: all which made him so ashamed
in the presence of the other servants that his life became bitter,
and he was forced to ask for his ruzza.

Lalla, sitting next to him, remarks that no doubt one person is of
one disposition and another of another disposition. "If it had been
my destiny to remain in the service of Colonel Balloonpeel, all my
days would have passed in peace; but he went to England when he got
his PENCIL. Who can describe the calmness and goodness of his madam.
She never asked a question. She put the keys in the Butler's hand,
and if he asked for money she gave it. But one person is of one
disposition and another is of another disposition."

"That is true," replies the ex-butler, "but the sahebs are better
than the mem sahebs. The sahebs are hot and get angry sometimes, but
under them a man can live and eat a mouthful of bread. With the mem
sahebs it is nothing but worry, worry, worry. Why is this so dirty?