"Why do you laugh, Griggs?" asked Isaacs, who saw nothing particularly amusing in what he had said.
"Oh, I laughed because another young gentleman expressed the same opinions to me, in identically the same words, this morning."
"Mr. Westonhaugh?"
"No. You know very well that Mr. Westonhaugh cares nothing about it, one way or the other. The little plan for 'amusing brother John' is a hoax. The thing cannot be done. You might as well try to amuse an undertaker as to make a man from Bombay laugh. The hollowness of life is ever upon them. No. It was Kildare; he called and said that Miss Westonhaugh had never seen a tiger, and he seemed anxious to impress upon me his determination that she should. Pshaw! what does Kildare care about brother John?"
"Brother John, as you call him, is a better fellow than he looks. I owe a great deal to brother John." Isaacs' olive skin flushed a little, and he emphasised the epithet by which I had designated Mr. John Weston haugh as if he were offended by it.
"I mean nothing against Mr. Westonhaugh," said I half apologetically. "I remember when you met yesterday afternoon you said you had seen him in Bombay a long time ago."
"Do you remember the story I told you of myself the other night?"
"Perfectly."
"Westonhaugh was the young civil servant who
