Neil Harley, in spite of his strong power of will, had said but very few
words to Helen Perowne before little Mrs Doctor Bolter bustled up.
"Oh, Mr Harley!" she exclaimed, "you have carried off my charge."
"Yes," he replied, smiling pleasantly; "we came forward to have a good
view of the sunset."
"Because you could see it so much better at the other end?" said Mrs
Bolter, drily.
"No; but because we could see it uninterruptedly," replied the Resident,
coolly.
"Oh no, you could not, Mr Harley," continued the little lady, "because
you see I have come to interrupt your _tete-a-tete_. Helen, my dear,
will you come back and join us on the other deck?"
"To be sure she will, my dear Mrs Bolter, and I shall come too. There,
mind those ropes. That's better. What a glorious evening! I hope I am
to have the pleasure of showing you ladies many that are far more
beautiful on the Darak river."
Little Mrs Bolter looked up at him meaningly; but the Resident's eyes
did not flinch; he only gave her a quiet nod in reply, and they climbed
once more to the quarter-deck, where, in preparation for the coming
darkness, the sailors were busily hanging lamps.
They had no sooner reached the group of people around Dr Bolter, than,
as if to revenge herself for the annoyance to which she had been
subjected, Helen disengaged her hand, walked quickly up to the Reverend
Arthur, and began to talk to him in a low earnest voice.
"If she would only keep away from poor Arthur," muttered the little
lady, "I would not care--she is making him infatuated. And now there's
Henry talking to that thin dark lady again. I wish he would not talk so
much to her."
"Married late in life," said the Resident, quietly, as he lit a cigar;
"but she seems to have her share of jealousy. She's a dear, good little
woman, though, all the same."
He walked to the side watching Helen where she stood beneath one of the
newly lit lamps, looking very attractive in the faint reflected rays of
the sunset mingled with those shed down from above upon her glossy hair.
"Why does she go so much to gossip with that chaplain? If it is to
pique me it is labour in vain, for I have not a _soupcon_ of jealousy in
my composition. She is very beautiful and she knows it too. What a
head and neck, and what speaking eyes!"
He stood smoking for a few minutes and then went on:
"Speaking eyes? Yes, they are indeed. It is no fancy, but it seems to
have been to lead me on; and as I judge her, perhaps wrongfully, she
loves to drag every man she sees in her train. Well, she has made a
mistake this time if she thinks she is going to play with me. I feel
ashamed of myself sometimes when I think of how easily I let her noose
me, but it is done."
He lit a fresh cigar, and still stood watching Helen.
"Sometimes," he continued, "I have called myself idiot for this sudden
awakening of a passion that I thought dead; but no, the man who receives
encouragement from a woman like that is no idiot. It is the natural
consequence that he should love her."
Just then three or four of the passengers, officers and civil officials,
sauntered up to Helen, and after the first few words she joined with
animation in the conversation; but not without darting a quick glance
once or twice in the Resident's direction.
"No," he said, softly; "the man who, receiving encouragement, becomes
deeply in love with you, fair Helen, is no idiot, but very appreciative,
for you are a beautiful girl and very fond of admiration."
He did not move, but still watched the girl, who began to stand out
clearly against the lamp-light now, more attractive than he had ever
seen her.
"Yes," he said; "you may flirt and coquet to your heart's content, but
it will have no effect upon me, my child. I don't think I am a
conceited man, but I know I am strong, and have a will. Let me see, I
have known you since I went down, at Bolter's request, to be his best
man at the wedding, and I had you, my fair bridesmaid, under my charge,
with the result that you tried to drag me at your car. Well, I am
caught, but take care, my child, prisoners are dangerous sometimes, and
rise and take the captor captive."
"Yes," he continued, "some day I may hold you struggling against my
prisoning hands--hands that grasp you tenderly, so that your soft
plumage may not be ruffled, for it is too beautiful to spoil."
Just then there was a sally made by a French officer of the vessel, and
Helen's silvery laugh rang out.
"Yes, your laugh is sweet and thrilling," he continued softly. "No
doubt it was a brilliant compliment our French friend paid. I don't
think I am vain, if I say to myself even that laugh was uttered to pique
me. It is an arrow that has failed, for I am in a prophetic mood. I
have seen the maidens of every land almost beneath the sun, and allowing
for savagery, I find them very much the same when they turn coquettes.
You could not understand my meaning this evening, eh? Well, we shall
see. Go on, coquette, and laugh and dance in the sun till you are
tired. I'll wait till then. The effervescence and froth of the cup
will have passed away, and there will be but the sweet, clear wine of
your woman's nature left for me to drink. I'll wait till then."
Again Helen's laugh rang out, but the Resident remained unmoved.
"Am I a coxcomb--a conceited idiot?" he said; then softly, "I hope not.
Time will prove."
"I don't care, Harry; I will not have it!"
"But it is only girlish nonsense, my dear."
"Then the young ladies in our charge shall not indulge in girlish
nonsense. It is not becoming. Grey Stuart never gets a cluster of
young men round her like a queen in a court."
"More fools the young men, my dear," said the doctor; "for Grey is
really as sweet a maiden as--"
"Henry!"
"Well, really, my dear, I mean it. Hang it, my dear Mary! don't think I
mean anything but fatherly feeling towards the child. Hallo, Harley!
you there? Why are you not paying your court yonder?"
"Because, my dear Bolter, your good lady here has given me one severe
castigation to-day for the very sin."
"There I think you are wrong, Mary," said the doctor, quickly; "and I
will say that I wish you, a stable, middle-aged man, and an old friend
of her father's, would go and spend more time by her side; it would keep
off these buzzing young gnats."
"If I said anything unkind, Mr Harley," said the little lady, holding
out her hand, "please forgive me. I only wish to help my husband to do
his duty towards the young lady who is in our charge."
"My dear Mrs Bolter," said the Resident, taking the extended hand, "I
only esteem my dear old friend's wife the more for the brave way in
which she behaved. I am sure we shall be the firmest of friends!"
"I hope we shall, I am sure," said the little lady, warmly.
"What do you say, Bolter?"
"I know you will," cried the doctor. "You won't be able to help it,
Harley. She is just the brave, true lady we want at the station to take
the lead and rule the roost. She'll keep all the ladies in order."
"Now, Henry!"
"But you will, my dear; and I tell you at once that Neil Harley here
will help you all he can."
Five minutes later the doctor and his wife were alone, the former being
called to account for his very warm advocacy of Mr Harley.
"Well, my dear, he deserves it all," said the doctor.
"But I don't quite like his behaviour towards Helen Perowne," said the
little lady; "and now we are upon the subject, Harry, I must say that I
don't quite like your conduct towards that girl."
The doctor turned, took her hands, held them, and laughed.
"Why, what a droll little body you are, Mary!"
"And why, sir, pray?" said the lady, rather sharply.
"Four or five months ago, my dear, I don't believe you knew the real
meaning of the word _love_, and now I honestly believe you are finding
out the meaning of the word _jealousy_ as well; but seriously, my dear,
that girl makes me shiver!"
"Shiver, sir! Why?"
"She's a regular firebrand coming amongst our young men. She'll do no
end of mischief. I see it as plain as can be, and I shall have to set
to as soon as I get home to compound a fresh medicine--pills at night,
draught in the morning--for the cure of love-sickness. She'll give the
lot the complaint. But, you dear, silly little old woman, you don't
think that I--oh!--oh! come, Mary, Mary, my dear!"
"Well, there, I don't think so, Harry," said the little lady,
apologetically, "but she is so horribly handsome, and makes such use of
those dreadful eyes of hers, that it makes me cross when I see the
gentlemen obeying her lightest beck and call."
"Well, she does lead them about pretty well," chuckled the doctor.
"She's a handsome girl!"
"Henry!"
"Well, my dear, I'll think she's as ugly as sin if you like."
"And in spite of all you say of Mr Harley, I don't think he is behaving
well. She gave him a few of those looks of hers when he came down to
our wedding, and he has been following her ever since. I've watched
him!"
"What a wicked wretch!" chuckled the little doctor. "Has he taken a
fancy to a pretty girl, then, and made up his mind to win? Why, he's as
bad as that scoundrel Harry Bolter, who wouldn't take _no_ for an
answer, and did not."
"Now, don't talk nonsense, Henry. This is too serious a subject for
joking."
"I am as serious as a judge, Polly."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What!"
"Is there anything the matter, my dear?" said the little doctor, who was
startled by the lady's energy.
"What did you call me, sir?"
"Polly, my dear; tender pet name for Mary."
"Never again please, dear Henry," said the little lady. "I don't wish
to be too particular, and don't mind tenderness--I--I--rather like it,
dear. But do I look like a lady who could be called Polly?"
"Then it shall always be Mary, my dear," said the doctor; "and I won't
joke about serious matters. As to Neil Harley and Helen Perowne, you're
quite right; but 'pon my word, I don't see why we should interfere as
long as matters don't go too far."
"I do not agree with you, Henry."
"You have not heard my argument, my dear," he said taking her hand,
drawing it through his arm, and walking her up and down the deck. "Now
look here, my dear Mary, six months ago you were a miserable
unbeliever."
"A what?" cried the lady, indignantly.
"A miserable unbeliever. You had no faith in its being the duty of all
ladies to get married; and I came to your barbarous little village and
converted you."
"Oh, yes, I had great belief," said the little lady, quietly.
"Well, then, you were waiting for the missionary to come and lead your
belief the right way. Now then, my dear, don't you see this? Suppose a
place where there are a dozen ladies and only one gentleman. How many
can be married?"
"Why, only one lady, of course," said Mrs Doctor.
"Exactly, my dear," said the doctor; "but it is a moral certainty that
the gentleman will be married."
"Well, yes, I suppose so," replied Mrs Doctor.
"Suppose so? Why, they'd combine and kill him for an unnatural monster
if he did not marry one of them," said the doctor, laughing. "Well,
then, my dear, suppose we reverse the case, and take a young and very
handsome lady to a station in an out-of-the-way part of the world, where
the proportions are as one to twenty--one lady to twenty gentlemen--what
is the moral result?"
"I suppose she would be sure to be married?"
"Exactly, my dear. Well, as our handsome young charge evidently thinks
a very great deal about love-making--"
"A very great deal too much," said Mrs Doctor, tartly.
"Exactly so, my dear. Well, she is going to such a place. What ought
we to do?"
"See of course that she does not make a foolish match."
"Ex--actly!" cried the doctor. "Well, Harley seems to have taken a
fancy to her at once. Good man--good position--not too old."
"I don't know," said the lady, dubiously, "I don't quite think they
would match."
"I do," said the doctor, sharply. "The very man. Plenty of firmness.
He's as genial and warm-hearted as a man can be; but he has a will like
iron. He'd break in my young madam there; and, by Jove! ma'am, if I am
a judge of woman's nature--"
"Which you are not, sir," said the lady, sharply. "Well, perhaps not;
but I do say this--if ever there was a Petruchio cut out for our
handsome, dark-eyed Katherine, then Neil Harley is the man!"
"Here, doctor, where are you? Come along!" cried the gentleman in
question. "Music--music! Miss Perowne has promised to sing!"
"Have you been persuading her, Mr Harley?" said the little lady.
"I? My dear madam, no! She refused me; but has been listening to the
blandishments of Captain Lindley; and--there--she is beginning. By
Jove! what a voice!"