LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 148, 24 November 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

OUR CHRISTMAS EXCURSION, i Continued.) When 1 met Nellie, I found she had forgiven me. How absurd it was that I should have found an irate chaperon in the little sister that I came out to India purposely to take care of ! By daylight my six or seven years’ seniority, and my usual Habit of ruling her, had their ordinary weight and importance, though over-night Nellie had “posed” so imposingly. How anomalous is the whole system of chaperonage ! A mother won’t trust her well-brought-up daughter out of sight. A bride of sixteen plays duenna to a gushing spinster of forty ! Nellie was nineteen, I twenty-six. Nellie was a childish little thing ; I (abnormally unreasonable and foolish that Christmas-tide) was generally looked upon as her strong-minded sister, her ment( ir. I hope that she, poor girl, said her prayers that day better than 1 said mine. I was trying, almost with success, to fancy that indignation was righteous. Sometimes, however, I was remorseful, but the feeling that outweighed every other was one of misery. We were off, that evening, on our excursion, and that added to my unhappiness. George Mainwaring might have left Bombay before we returned, though our trip was only to be the affair of a couple of days. The English letters made a break in the dreariness. 11l at ease, and very unamiably disposed to those around me, how my heart yearned over the dear absent ones ? Large as the family circle was at home, I well knew they missed Nellie and me.

‘ A day at my brother Phil’s bungalow Js a dreary attempt at Christmas you know. The Punkah, instead of the Christmas fire! The colonel, instead of the dear old squire! The lizard, and withering noonday glow, Instead of the robin, the frost and snow ! I know, after all, our lot’s not bad, But, somehow or other, it makes mo sad, At a season like this, when the thoughts will roam, To think what they’re doing just now at home. ” And, worse than home sickness, worse than all else, was the quarrel! I felt ill, as well as unhappy. Late in the day I heard with surprise, that Captain Browne had offered to make a fourth in our travelling party, and Nellie said magnanimously : ‘Well, Mary, if you care for Stanhope Browne, of course I can’t find fault with you for making yourself agreeable to him. ’ I told Nellie, with growing ill-temper, that I “ didn’t care a fig for him,” and a fortunate turn to our conversation was given by a friend, who sent her gardener with two tiny bouquets, made up of pink roses surrounded by a wreath of pretty little mauve flowers, one for “Mem Sahib,” and one for “ Missie Baba,” —which titles being translated mean the great lady, and the young miss. Other friends sent us trays of cakes and fruit, and some people called to wish us a “Merry Christmas!” The words had a mocking sound to me. I had a faint hope George Mainwaring would call, but the day wore on, and the hope died out. I had an idea I should feel less wretched when we were on our journey ; and it was a relief when all the servants had made their salaam, and had each been made happy by a Christ-mas-box of a rupee, and we were driving off to the Byculla station. Nellie looked pleased and amused, and Phil was in wild spirits at the prospect of a little change and freedom. It was a pleasant day with a glorious sea breeze, which was exhilarating, at least to Phil, who distressed Nellie immeasurably by singing out, at sight of Captain Browne’s fashionable attire—- “ He’d a horror he never concealed Of verandah-made, dirzee-cut suits, And a lofty contempt he revealed For Chuckler’s creations in boots.” The “ Lays of Ind” formed, for the moment, one of Phil’s chief delights ; except Baby, the “Lays” amused him more than anything in existence, as long as they were fresh and novel to him. What a scene is an Indian railway-station! How the natives rush and scream as they make for the train! Some of them had good reason to be impatient, for, having now, at long last, realised that the train won’t wait for them, they practise punctuality '(?) by arriving at the station several hours too soon. What a glorious variety of costume there always is in a Bombay crowd ! All the castes seem to be represented in every gathering of people, and Chinese, Japanese, and Europeans battled their way along with the natives. Nellie and her great friend settled down to chat as well as the noise of the train permitted. I threw myself into a corner, and thoughtlessly asked Phil, half in joke, half in earnest, ‘ ‘ If Gora bunder ” (our destination) “ would be a nice place to have another touch of fever in?” Phil looked alarmed directly, and I had to say “I did not mean it ; I felt tired—had a headache, since the dance and thus he was partially re-assured. He was kind, and talked little to me, nor did he expect me to talk to him, on our way to Tannah, where Phil’s servant met us with two shigrams (hired carriages) for ourselves, and a pony-cart for our luggage. The drive from tlxe station to the Custom-house bunder is not a very interesting mile. In the dim light Tannah looked very like any other Eastern Bazaar. It boasted the usual ghee and rice shops, and stores for brass vessels, all of beautiful, because thoroughly useful, practical shapes, alternating with places for the sale of cotton and manufactured goods. With a heavy heart I reflected that every mile we travelled was so much distance the more between me and the friend I had quarrelled with. I Avondered AA-hy I had been so anxious to start. The further avc went, probably, the less chanceof meeting again and “making friends.” Phil and I occupied one of the shigrams, and he kindly left me to my reflections. I felt very grateful to him for not guessing that there Avere such things as love troubles at the bottom of my headache and moodiness; perhaps the good felloAV feigned ignorance, but at the time I thought, ‘ ‘ Just because all his love making was OA r er tAvo years ago, he is happily blind to the existence of other people’s sentimental affairs !” I hated myself for having such a thing as a “sentimental affair ” of my oavh ! Why is it that avc are so often impatient at a daAvning love, and so often proud of a fullbloAvn passion ? 1 Avas very angry Avhen I first had to admit that I Avas “falling in love. ” I had ‘ ‘ fallen ” a long Avay before avc set off on our excursion, g The boat which Avas to take us to Gora bunder Avas lying at anchor in the river near the Custom-house. I ought to say, bunder is the general name for landing places. Our craft Avas called the buuder-boat, till Phil

facetiously dubbed it the “Great Eastern,” and the tyndal (chief boatman) he promoted to the rank of admiral, but though undoubtedly that functionary ought to have been gratified at the unexpected honor, he did not exhibit any great elation. Having made his salaam, “the admiral ” set to work to help in bringing our luggage on board. We had to wait some time before the tide served, and our dinner, served up by the Portuguese cook, and consisting of the regular English Christmas dishes, with the addition of some much better things of French origin, and a rude kind of concert in which the native boatmen were the performers, occupied our leisure. The music was curious and somewhat impressive, but the words were, sometimes, the reverse of sublime ; for instance, the refrain of one of their chants might be translated : “ Sahib, sahib (the master), is very nice, Sahib will give us curry and rice. ” The moon had not then risen, and we depended almost entirely for light on our little candle-lamps. The dark natives flitting about in their white dresses looked very picturesque, and the boatful of Europeans, and natives (boatmen and servants of some of the passengers) of several castes, made a weird picture. But for the gnats, and the thousand and one other winged creatures that were attracted by our lights, it would have all been very peaceful to such of us as had no disquieting thoughts, until there was a cry of “ A tiger ! a tiger 1” and all became excitement. Guns were loaded, for we could distinctly hear a sound by the river’s edge. Some talked of crocodiles as being inhabitants of the Tannah river. I rushed to the boat’s side for a view, and was presently rewarded—or rather disappointed —by seeing a herd of buffaloes disporting themselves in the water ! The glorious moon was rising by this time; “the admiral” had got us under weigh. The scenery gradually became more and more lovely. Though occupied with wretched thoughts, I could not but enjoy the sight of the ruins of the Portuguese churches, monasteries, and other dwellings, and the wooded hills, the whole bathed in the soft charm of the moonlight. I felt less than grateful for the interruption, when Capt Browne suddenly came up to me and said—- ■ I have been fearing I offended you by something I said or did last night. You are altered to-day in your manner, and you broke off our conversation in the verandah so abruptly. Hid 1 annoy you ! Let me assure you; if I did so, it was involuntarily.’ I said ill naturedly, * I don’t think you annoyed me particularly last night—not more than other times. ’

My rudeness stupefied him. We talked on for a little while, for the most part at cross purposes, and I felt with some satisfaction that we should never flirt together again. The conviction was evidently momentarily gaining strength in his mind that I was a thoroughly disagreeable woman, enigmatical, changeable, and wholly unable to appreciate an attractive man like himself. And I certainly was disagreeable to him ; and, what I am more ashamed of, to Phil. He only said, ‘ Moll, you’re not yourself today ; the climate has caught hold of your temper. ’ I had answered a mild piece of “ chaff ” of his very snappishly, and this was Phil’s only retort. Of course I ate humble pie and apologised to him, and he and I “ made it up ” before Nellie and I went to roost in the place arranged for the lady-passengers to sleep in. Nellie, I am sure, had a better conscience, and perhaps a less undesirable couch than I, and she still slept long after I had begun to watch the banks of the Tannah again, and ponder over my troubles. My anger was melting : if I could have met George then and there, and if he had seemed penitent for the part he had taken in our quarrel, I should have forgiven him at once, and “ lived happily ever afterwards,” —at least, so I thought. But what good could thinking do me ? George might even now have started on his journey; he might be going to England, or anywhere, for all I knew ; I might never see him any more ; and if so, how blank my life would be, how monotonous, how uninteresting! It was nearly b a.m. when the dawn began to break. It was a glorious morning. If I could have given myself up wholly to the influences of the scene, what intense enjoyment it would have afforded me ! But, physically as well as mentally, I was unfit fully to appreciate that beautiful moonset, that gorgeous sunrise. The hills grew finer and finer as we neared Gora bunder, and, looking backward, the view of the river was indescribably beautiful. We had all met, and all complained of the sleeping accommodation—a most unromantic topic, and unsuited to a scene of so much beauty, but not to be excluded from our thoughts and our conversation, for no phase of nature’s loveliness can for long render us impervious to a high degree of discomfort —before Gora bunder came in sight. It is a little village of some half-dozen houses, with an old domed church. This church, which is partly in ruins, was lent us by the assistant-col-lector of the district, and under what remained of the roof of the aisles, a rough kind of dwelling had been made for us. Some large screens, such as are in common use in India, divided the space which was covered by the roof, into apartments. It was a novel and picturesque residence, and we were all well pleased with it. Eefreshment and rest awaited us within the church walls, and it was some time before we started on foot to explore the ruins. My reign being over, Captain Browne took up where he had left off his harmless flirtation with Nellie, and she evidently rejoiced in the truant’s return, She has a fancy for well-dressed, chatty, tame-cat sort of men, and the attentions of Captain Browne, who gives himself airs with other people, please the child. It is a mistake of mine to call their intercourse a flirtation. They amuse each other—that is all; just as much so as, and no more than they did a twelvemonth ago when I first came out to Bombay. Phil had a stupid companion in his walk; but then, he was independent of companionship. He shouted to make the ruins echo, which v as as good a pastime as talking, to his mind; and he roused the bats, and the wild birds that were joint-tenants with ourselves in the church. Then, he very conscientiously traced the line of the walls of manastery, and the boundary of the garden. There were still some mangoes planted there by the Portuguese. Before dark, we had made the acquaintance of the proprietor of the nearest village ; who, for the next stage of our journey, promised (for a consideration) to lend us his carriage, a buggj, and his horse, and a bullock-cart besides. He informed us his best bullock-cart was already hired by two gentlemen from Bombay, * great shikarees ’ (hunters) he thought they were. To be continued,