and wonderful she is.  But Tess apparently agreed with Hamlet that “the play’s the thing,” and was much too interested in the plot to interfere with it.  She attended the usual round of dinners, teas and tennis parties, that are part of the system by which the English keep alive their courage, and growing after a while a little tired of trivialty, she tried to scandalize Sialpore by inviting Tom Tripe to her own garden party, successfully overruling Tripe’s objections.

“Between you and I and the gate-post, lady, they don’t hanker for my society.  If somebody—­especially colonels, or a judge maybe,—­wanted to borrow a horse from the maharajah’s stable,—­or perhaps they’d like a file o’ men to escort a picnic in the hills,—­then it’s ’Oh, hello, good morning, Mr. Tripe.  How’s the dog this morning?  And oh, by the way—­’ Then I know what’s coming an’ what I can do for ’em I do, for I confess, lady, that I hanker for a little bit o’ flattery and a few words o’ praise I’m not entitled to.  I don’t covet any man’s money—­or at least not enough to damn me into hell on that account.  Finding’s keeping, and a bet’s a bet, but I don’t covet money more than that dog o’ mine covets fleas.  He likes to scratch ’em when he has ’em.  Me the same; I can use money with the next man, his or mine.  But I wouldn’t go to hell for money any more than Trotters would for fleas, although, mind you, I’m not saying Trotters hasn’t got fleas.  He has ’em, same as hell’s most folks’ destiny.  But when it comes to praise that ain’t due me, lady, I’m like Trotters with another dog’s bone—­I’ve simply got to have it, reason or no reason.  A common ordinary bone with meat on it is just a meal.  Praise I’ve earned is nothing wonderful.  But praise I don’t deserve is stolen fruit, and that’s the sweetest.  Now, if I was to come to your party I’d get no praise, ma’am.  I’d be doing right by you, but they’d say I didn’t know my place, and by and by they’d prove it to me sharp and sneery.  I’ll be a coward to stop away, but—­’Sensible man,’ they’ll say.  ’Knows when he isn’t wanted.’  You see, ma’am, yours is the only house in Sialpore where I can walk in and know I’m welcome whether you’re at home or not.”

“All the more reason for coming to the party, Tom.”

“Ah-h-h!  If only you understood!”

He wagged his head and one finger at her in his half-amused paternal manner that would often win for him when all else failed.  But this time it did not work.

“I don’t care for half-friends, Tom.  If you expect to be welcome at my house you must come to my parties when I ask you.”

“Lady, lady!”

“I mean it.”

“Oh, very well.  I’ll come.  I’ve protested.  That absolves me.  And my hide’s thick.  It takes more than just a snub or two—­or three to knock my number down!  Am I to bring Trotters?”

“Certainly.  Trotters is my friend too.  I count on him to do his tricks and help entertain.”