Mrs. Potter's quick black eyes looked me up and down, and then she remarked:
"I dare say you will have a very good time. This is a most interesting place, if you care for that sort of thing; and you can see something of all conditions of men, Asiatic and European. There is, as you know, the great city of Hyderabad, which we may not enter without a pass. Then comes Chudderghat, where the Politicals and the Resident live; he has the finest Residency in India. There are also colleges and the convent of the Holy Rosary. Next we have Secunderabad itself, all shops, and bazaars, and fine old bungalows. That brings us here. Up your way the Army is sprinkled about--artillery and engineers, cavalry and line; this is the largest garrison in India--and now you have the place in a nutshell!"
"Who are these people?" I inquired, as I observed close to the _chabutra_ several handsome dark young men getting out of a large motor.
"Oh, they are some of the Nizam's entourage, mostly noblemen and officers of the Golconda Lancers. They have been playing polo with the Lighthearts' team. Your brother is their captain. Of course, you must feel rather strange at first, not knowing a soul in the place!"
"Yes," I answered. I could not say why, but I found it difficult to talk to Mrs. Potter; her sharp eyes seemed to stab me like knives.
"But you will soon know everybody," she continued, with a little air of patronage. "Out here we are all supposed to be in the same set. The set in Secunderabad is embodied by the club--to be a member is our social hall-mark. All the rest are, so to speak, in outer darkness--where I believe there's a good deal of gnashing of teeth!"
As she was speaking I happened to glance towards the entrance through which people were still coming and going, and there I beheld someone who was not a stranger. It was Captain Falkland, attended by Kipper.
Captain Falkland presented a striking appearance in his A.D.C. uniform, mounted on a fine black horse. He looked thoroughly at home in the saddle.
"Behold that faithless man!" cried Mrs. Wolfe excitedly; "how _am_ I to get hold of him?"
"I suppose the general has been inspecting something, as he is on duty," said Mrs. Potter, "and there is the dog that is always at his heels."