She was a good girl, but could
not help knowing her power and using it.
Her Mamma was very anxious about her daughter's future, as all good Mammas
should be.
When a man is a Commissioner and a bachelor and has the right of wearing open-
work jam-tart jewels in gold and enamel on his clothes, and of going through a
door before every one except a Member of Council, a Lieutenant-Governor, or a
Viceroy, he is worth marrying. At least, that is what ladies say. There was a
Commissioner in Simla, in those days, who was, and wore, and did, all I have
said. He was a plain man--an ugly man--the ugliest man in Asia, with two
exceptions. His was a face to dream about and try to carve on a pipe-head
afterwards. His name was Saggott--Barr-Saggott--Anthony Barr-Saggott and six
letters to follow.
Departmentally, he was one of the best men the Government of India owned.
Socially, he was like a blandishing gorilla.
When he turned his attentions to Miss Beighton, I believe that Mrs.
Beighton wept with delight at the reward Providence had sent her in her old
age.
Mr. Beighton held his tongue. He was an easy-going man.
Now a Commissioner is very rich. His pay is beyond the dreams of avarice--is
so enormous that he can afford to save and scrape in a way that would almost
discredit a Member of Council.
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