When Beryl Denvers first came to Kundaghat to be near her friend Mrs.
Ellis, the Commissioner's wife, society in general openly opined that
she had come to the populous Hill station to seek a husband. She was
young, she was handsome, and she was free. It seemed the only reasonable
conclusion to draw. But since that date society had had ample occasion
to change its mind. Beryl Denvers plainly valued her freedom above every
other consideration, and those who wooed her wooed in vain. She
discouraged the attentions of all mankind with a rigour that never
varied, till society began to think that her brief matrimonial
experience had turned her into a man-hater. And yet this was hard to
believe, for, though quick-tempered, she was not bitter. She was quite
willing to be friendly with all men, up to a certain point. But beyond
this subtle boundary few dared to venture and none remained. There was a
wonderful fascination about her, a magnetism that few could resist; but
notwithstanding this she held herself aloof, never wholly forgetting her
caution even with those who considered themselves her intimates.
Having dismissed Lord Ronald Prior, with whom she was almost
unreasonably angry, she ordered her rickshaw and went out to cool her
hot cheeks. The recent interview had disquieted her to the depths. She
tried to regard his presumption as ludicrous, yet failed to do so. For
what he had said was to a large extent true. She was unprotected, and
she was also lonely, though this she never owned. She stifled a sigh as
she set forth. Hitherto she had always liked Lord Ronald. Why had he
couched his proposal in such impossible terms?
She went to the polo-ground to watch the practice, and here found
several friends in whose society she tried to forget her discomfiture.
But it remained with her notwithstanding, and was still present when she
returned to prepare for dinner. She was dining with the Ellises that
night, and she hoped ardently that Lord Ronald would not make one of the
party.
But she was evidently destined for mortification that day, for the first
thing she saw upon entering the drawing-room was his trim figure
standing by her hostess. And, "Lord Ronald will take you in, dear," said
Nina Ellis, as she greeted her.
Beryl glanced at him, and he bowed in his courtly way. "I hope you don't
mind," he murmured.
She did mind exceedingly, but it was impossible to say so. She could
only yield to the inevitable and rest the tips of her fingers upon his
sleeve.
It was with a decided sense of relief that she found Major Fletcher
seated on her other side. A handsome, well-mannered cavalier was Major
Fletcher, by every line of his figure a soldier, by every word of his
conversation a gentleman. Exceedingly self-possessed at all times, it
was seldom, if ever, that he laid himself open to a snub. It was
probably for this very reason that Beryl liked him better than most of
the men in Kundaghat, was less distant with him, and usually granted the
very little that he asked of her.
She turned to him at once with a random remark about the polo-players,
wondering if they would be able to hold their own against a native team
with whom a match had been arranged for the following week.
"Oh, I think so," he said. "The Farabad men are strong, but our fellows
are hard to beat. It won't be a walkover for either side."
"Where will the match be played?" she asked, nervously afraid of letting
the subject drop lest Lord Ronald should claim her attention.
"Here," said Major Fletcher. "It was originally to have been at Farabad,
but there was some difficulty about the ground. I was over there
arranging matters only this evening. The whole place is being turned
upside down for a native fair which is to be held in a few days, when
the moon is full. You ought to see it. It is an interesting sight--one
which I believe you would enjoy."
"No doubt I should," she agreed. "But it is rather a long way, isn't
it?"
"Not more than twelve miles." Fletcher's dark face kindled with a sudden
idea. "I could drive you down some morning early if you cared for it."
Beryl hesitated. It was not her custom to accept invitations of this
sort, but for once she felt tempted. She longed to demonstrate her
independence to Lord Ronald, whose suggestions regarding her inability
to take care of herself had so sorely hurt her pride. Might she not
permit herself this one small fling for his benefit? It would be so good
for him to realise that she was no incompetent girl, but a woman of the
world and thoroughly well versed in its ways. And at least he would be
forced to recognise that his proposal had been little short of an
absurdity. She wanted him to see that, as she wanted nothing else on
earth.
"You think it would bore you?" asked Fletcher.
"No," she said, flushing slightly; "I think I should like it."
"Well done!" he said, with quiet approval. "You are such a hermit, Mrs.
Denvers, that it will be quite a novelty for us both."
She met his eyes for an instant, assailed by a sudden memory of Lord
Ronald's vague remarks concerning him. But they were very level, and
revealed nothing whatever. She told herself indignantly that there was
nothing to reveal. The man had simply made her a friendly offer, and she
determined to accept it in a like spirit.
"It was kind of you to think of it," she said. "I will come with much
pleasure."
On her other side she heard Lord Ronald's leisurely tones conversing
with his neighbour, and wondered if aught of the project had reached
him. She hoped it had, though the serenity of his demeanour made her
doubtful. But in any case he would surely know sooner or later.