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 the polo after that. Nobody really watched the polo, except a few enthusiasts, and a few others who thought it good form, and kind of sporting like, to simulate an enthusiastic interest in it. But to me it was a perfectly fascinating sight. The smooth, green polo-grounds might have competed with Hurlingham, and not been ashamed, while as for the games themselves, the competition for the Viceroy's International Cup, open to the world, brought together some of the finest teams you could wish to see. The final between Alwar and Jodhpur was grand, the Maharajah of each State playing for his side, and great was the enthusiasm for the winning team, not so much because it was Alwar, as because it had come out on top after such a splendid and well-fought fight. We saw the fireworks from the Jumma Musjid after all, in spite of vague prognostications. It was there that I met Sir Peter Tweet.

'He's one of the Government of India curiosities,' Berengaria whispered to me just before she introduced him. I am not sure that I should have let Berengaria introduce him if I could have prevented her. But I hadn't time. He was a man with a shaggy beard, and I've no use for men with beards of any kind. But he proved interesting as a curiosity. He sat down beside me, and I saw at once that he was worried and nervous about something. 'I can't think why I came,' he said plaintively, as we watched the rockets and sprays and wonderful huge Katherine wheels. 'To the fireworks?' I asked, surprised at his