equestrians, were invariably gentlemen in plain coats and white trousers, whilst the militaires were always in the rear, trying vainly to edge in a word or two. There were a great number of red jacketed gentlemen on white horses in the string of riders, who went at a brisker pace than the rest, and seemed to keep very much to themselves, and to take no notice of their neighbours. These were mostly king's officers*-the lady-hunters being griffs, who very often think in their innocence that a red coat is the same talisman in India, that it is in England, and do not find out their mistake until after a few severe snubbings. Peregrine observed that the gentlemen in the plain clothes were much better mounted than those in uniform; and he had not much difficulty in guessing why, for it is just as much as a subaltern officer can do to contrive to mount himself at all.

Peregrine Pultuney was so taken up with his inward observations on men and manners, for which it must be confessed the scene before him supplied plentiful food, that the carriage had gone once down and once up the course before he felt disposed to open his lips, and to ask any questions about the

The officers of Her Majesty's service are not so well known in Calcutta society, as their birth, manners, and education, entitle them to be. And why? Simply, I believe, because they are not disposed to reverse the custom, which obtains in other parts of the world, of waiting for the residents to call upon them, before they call upon the residents.

people, who were of course all strangers to him; but when the coachman drew up his horses and slackened their pace, as seemed to be the fashion on the course after one or two brisk turns, Peregrine took it into his head to make some inquiries about the most noticeable people that attracted his attention, and his aunt, who was very fond of personal conversation, was willing enough to give the required information.

"Well aunt," he began, "we are very silentwho is that pretty woman in the barouche?"

"Who-where? pretty woman?" returned Mrs. Poggleton. "Well, I never!-you young menI can't see a pretty woman in a barouche."

"What, not that lady, with the black cap and the pink ribbands," said Peregrine.

"Oh! that a perfect fright—a horror-pretty woman! only think, dear me-why that's Mrs. Aminidab Ash, and you really think she's prettywhat a taste?"

"I do think so," remarked Peregrine, "but what is Mrs. Aminidab Ash?"

"Not pretty, certainly-he, he !" returned Mrs. Poggleton, considerably amused at the smartness of her repartee." She's an agent's wife-he, he-and they say that whenever she quarrels with her husband, and that's pretty often-he, he! she goes and takes her passage to England-and he has to pay forfeit-he, he! A lakh at least she has cost him in this way—a very expensive shocq (taste).”

Peregrine did not in the least know what a shocq was, neither did he take the trouble to inquire, for his attention was attracted by another lady in a barouche, who bowed to Mrs. Poggleton, as she passed.

"Who is that pretty woman?" asked Peregrinecome you must agree with me this time." "Oh! that-well you think that she is pretty," returned Mrs. Poggleton, nodding her head to a gentleman who passed the carriage, "some people do think so, to be sure."

"And you amongst them, I know, mamma," interrupted Julia, "I have heard you acknowledge it before now."

"Well then-she is pretty well, my dear. I don't think that I said she is a beauty-only think! -a beauty! dear me-why that's Mrs. Jupiter Grand; her husband's a very clever young man— a monstrous clever young man, they tell me-they're particular friends of mine-particular—but here comes a great favourite-Mr. Splashington, how do you do?"

The individual thus addressed was a young gentleman on horseback, dressed with considerable nicety and taste, and displaying a pair of the most unexceptionable slate-coloured kid gloves, which Peregrine thought were not the best adapted for riding in hot weather, but which nevertheless, being rarities in Calcutta, where the majority of men are somewhat given to slovenliness, 'gave him

a favourable impression of the wearer. He reined up his horse, by the side of the carriage, with a somewhat Parisian bow to the ladies-and glanced at Peregrine Pultuney inquiringly.

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My nephew, Mr. Pultuney of the—Artillery— yes-Mr. Splashington allow me to introduce-" "What! Peregrine Pultuney!" exclaimed Mr. Splashington," my dear friend, I am charmé to see you. But, perhaps, you have forgotten Frederick Splashington. It is so long since you knew me at Dr. Radix's."

Peregrine assured Mr. Splashington, that he had not forgotten him, and held out his hand, over the side of the carriage, very cordially to his old schoolfellow, whilst Mrs. Poggleton ejaculated several times-" dear me, only think how funny!"

The little recognition being over, Mr. Splashington turned his attention towards Julia, and in a soft, but as Peregrine thought a somewhat affected, empressé manner, began talking to her about music and "practising."

"I must try that duet with you—I must, indeed -I will call to-morrow, ah! of course I must, to see my old school-fellow there-and we will try it. I wish, Miss Poggleton, I could get you to try Italian, you would never sing your English ballads again."

Really, Mr. Splashington, I don't think so," returned Julia, shaking her head.

"Oh! you must try it-positivement you must.

I will send you O Mio Caro. It will suit your voice, and I'm sure you will be charmed with it. Will you let me send it to you, Miss Poggleton?"

"You may send it certainly," replied Julia, "but I really cannot promise to try it. I like my simple ballads so much better, I do indeed, Mr. Splashing. ton."

"Oh! la petite Anglaise !" ejaculated Mr. Splashington. "We must really cure you of that. If you had been so much in Italy as I have, you would never cling to your barbarous island music; you never would, I assure you, Miss Poggleton."

"I am very glad that I have not then," returned Julia Poggleton, "for I am sure I derive more pleasure from my simple ballad music than from all the flourishing Italian in the world."

"Ah! well-then I may call to-morrow-and we will try the Last Links together. Mrs. Poggleton, you will have your doors open, if I venture out to call on you to-morrow."

"Oh! certainly, Mr. Splashington-how can you ask-only think to have my doors shut to you!"

"Then you shall see me and you, Pultuney, too-I shall be so glad to renew our acquaintance. Are you to be at Mrs. Parkinson's to-night? You did not say no, Miss Poggleton-Helas! You really are not-how cruel! Have you seen the Miss Gowanspecs yet? fine girls-but countrified, very—