The note to Lord Tremlyn enclosed sixteen cards printed in gold letters, one for each member of the company, and they were passed around to them. They were to the effect that Perbut Lalleejee would celebrate the marriage of his son that evening, and the favor of the recipient's attendance was requested to a Grand Nautch at nine o'clock. The gentleman who sent out these cards was one of the wealthiest of the Parsee community, with whom the viscount was intimately acquainted, and he strongly recommended the Americans to attend.

The Parsees kept their religious affairs to themselves, and the party were not to "assist" at the ceremony, which would have been an extra inducement to attend. Promptly at the hour named the carriages set the tourists and their volunteer guides down at the magnificent mansion of the father of the young man who was to enter the marriage state that evening.

The street in the vicinity of the house was brilliantly illuminated, and it was covered over with an awning, from which no end of ornamental lamps were suspended. Behind a mass of flowers--cartloads of them--a foreign orchestra was placed. As the carriages stopped at the door, the band began a military march, whose inspiring strains seemed to give an additional lustre to the elaborate decorations. It was easy for the guests to believe that they had been introduced into the midst of a fairy scene. Sahib Perbut appeared at the door as soon as the vehicles stopped, and took his lordship by the hand, and each of the guests were presented to him as they alighted. The host was not an old man, as the strangers expected to find him, since he had a son who was old enough to get married.

He was very richly dressed, and he was a gentleman of unbounded suavity. Taking Mrs. Belgrave by the hand, he conducted her into the house, the rest of the party forming a procession behind them. The Americans had been obliged to make a trip to the Guardian-Mother, to obtain garments suitable for such a "swell" occasion, and they were all dressed in their Sunday clothes.

If the exterior of the splendid mansion had challenged the admiration of the guests, the interior presented a scene of Oriental magnificence which might have astonished even the Count of Monte Cristo. The party were conducted to the grand and lofty apartment where the Nautch was to be given. Immense mirrors reflected the brilliancy of a thousand lights; the floor was covered with the richest of carpets, the luxurious divans and sofas were overspread with the cloths of Cashmere; the elaborate richness of the costumes of the Oriental guests, and the army of servants manipulating punkas, or fans, formed a scene not unlike, while it out-rivalled, the grand dénoûment of a fairy spectacle on the stage.

The procession of foreign guests were all seated in the most conspicuous divans; for if Lord Tremlyn had been the Prince of Wales, he and his friends could hardly have been treated with greater distinction, as he was the unofficial representative of the predominating influence in the affairs of India near the throne of the United Kingdom and the Empire. The party were immediately beset with servants offering them fruit and sherbets, and they were sprinkled with rose-water from silver flagons.

The Nautch girls were not the same the tourists had seen earlier in the day. There were more of them, and they were of a finer grain; in fact, the gentlemen, who were judges, declared that most of them were really pretty. They were seated on the floor in native fashion. They had great black eyes; their complexion was only the least tawny, and was paler than it would have been if they had lived on a more invigorating diet than rice and fruits.

There were half a dozen musicians, who played upon tom-toms, instruments like a fiddle, and one that was very nearly a hurdy-gurdy, with lutes and flutes. They gave the preliminary strains, and the dancers formed the semicircle. The performance was similar to that the party had seen at the hotel, though it was more finished, and the attitudes and posturing appeared to belong to a higher school of art than the other. But the whole was so nearly like what the strangers had seen before, that they were not absorbed by it, and gave more attention to the people attending the feast; for they were an exceedingly interesting study to them.

After the performance had continued about a quarter of an hour there was a pause, and the dancers retreated to a corner of the room, seating themselves again on the floor. At this moment Sahib Perbut came into the grand saloon leading a boy, who did not appear to be more than ten years old, by the hand. He was dressed in the most richly ornamented garments, and he was an exceedingly pretty little fellow. He was conducted to the viscount.

"Will your Lordship permit me to present to you and your friends my son Dinshaw, in whose honor I am making this feast? This is Lord Tremlyn, my son," said the father, who was evidently very proud of the boy.

"Sahib Dinshaw, I am very happy to make your acquaintance," replied his lordship, as he rose and took the hand of the young gentleman, whom he introduced to every member of his party.

They all followed the example of the viscount, and addressed him as "Sahib Dinshaw," the title being equivalent to "Lord," or "Master," applied by the natives to their employers, and to the English generally. All of them gazed at him with intense interest, not unmingled with admiration. The hero of the occasion spoke English as fluently as his father.

"How old are you, Sahib Dinshaw?" asked Mrs. Belgrave, who was strongly tempted to kiss the little fellow; but she was afraid it would not be in order, and she refrained.

"I am ten years old, madam," replied Dinshaw, with the sweetest of smiles.

"And you have been married this evening, sahib?" continued the lady.

"I should not ask him any questions in that direction," interposed Sir Modava, afraid she would meddle with an interdicted subject; and the young gentleman's father seemed to have a similar fear, for he gently led him away.

He was introduced to the members of the "Big Four," who could hardly keep their faces at the proper length after hearing what passed between the youthful sahib and Mrs. Belgrave, at the idea of a ten-year-old bridegroom.

"Is it possible that this little fellow is married, Sir Modava?" exclaimed the principal lady from Von Blonk Park.

"There can be no doubt of it," replied the Hindu gentleman. "But it is hardly in the same sense that marriage takes place in England and America. The bride will be received into this Parsee fam............