On his way to his office--and important correspondence--Colonel
Tallboys made a long détour to Egmore, in order to advise, and take
council with, Fanny his wife. Arrived at Hooper's Gardens, he ran up
the marble stairs with enviable activity, and dashed into the boudoir,
calling:
"Fan--Fan--I say, where are you, Fan?"
In immediate response, a door opened, and Mrs. Tallboys appeared; a
stately figure, clad in a flowing white dressing-gown; yet, in spite
of her deshabille, this lady must be accorded a formal, and particular
introduction.
Ten years previously, when at home on leave, Major Tallboys elected
to take the waters at Harrogate--more as a precaution than otherwise.
Here, an idle stranger in the smoking-room of a great hotel, he
foregathered with a good-looking, genial neighbour; he liked his
face, approved his clothes, and admired his boots. They discussed the
weather, racing, and forthcoming meetings, and finally drifted into
that absorbing and dangerous mäelstrom--politics. Luckily they were
of the same mind, and the unanimity of their opinions, the warmth
of their convictions, and mutual detestations, firmly cemented the
acquaintance. The agreeable stranger turned out to be Mr. Joseph
Bond, a cotton broker from Liverpool, who subsequently presented
Major Tallboys to his party. The party was composed of his wife, her
sister, Mrs. Tubbs, and a cousin; the latter a pale, lank, dejected
lady in mourning. Mrs. Bond and Mrs. Tubbs were of a different type;
fine big women, boisterous, and loud of voice, who dressed in the last
shriek of fashion, and smoked cigarettes at all hours of the day. When
her hilarious companions departed for long motor trips, Miss Bond,
abandoned to her own resources, sat reading or sewing in the lounge--or
sedately paced the grounds in an unbecoming hat, heavily swathed in
_crêpe_. Major Tallboys, confined to the town by the exigencies of
a strict cure,--being naturally sociable and talkative,--made civil
overtures to this neglected, and solitary damsel. His manner was
attractive, his appearance prepossessing, and as the pair strolled
about, he gathered that she had recently experienced a bereavement, and
was now alone in the world.
For his part, the dapper little officer volunteered copious information
respecting India, and his experiences; he enjoyed the sound of his
own voice, whether on parade or otherwise, and in Fanny Bond found
an eager, and enraptured listener. As her companion described the
glories of the East, its dawns and sunsets, people and pleasures, and
drew vivid pictures of marches up-country, and the racing triumphs
and hair-breadth adventures of his youth, the lady's interest was
gratifying and profound.
In an irresponsible burst of confidence she confided to him, that it
had ever been the dream of her life to see the world, and, above all,
India.
Day after day, these walks and monologues were prolonged. Her cousins,
who had not failed to notice the said walks and talks, tormented their
helpless victim with winks, nudges, and vulgar and incessant chaff,
that made poor Fanny blush to tears.
When discussing family matters in the privacy of her bedroom, Mrs. Bond
had said to her sister: "If the dandy little officer has taken a fancy
to Fan--it will be a very good business!"
"Too good to be true," interjected Mrs. Tubbs. "No such luck."
"It's rather a puzzle to know what to do with her; she can't go back to
that awful little house in Tranmere, and, besides, she's too young to
live alone, and set up a cat and a parrot."
"Yes, poor thing, she's had a starved life, and is as timid as a mouse."
"No wonder, after her awful time with Uncle James," declared Mrs. Bond;
"such pinching and screwing, and scolding, and badgering, as was never
known. You leave the business to me, and I'll have a little talk with
her friend, and let him know that Fan has a bit of money--and no near
relations!"
In order to carry out her project, that same evening, after dinner,
Major Tallboys' particular horror--the loudest and showiest of the
sisters--invited him to come into the conservatory for a smoke, and
tell _her_ something about India.
He obeyed with prompt gallantry,--though secretly alarmed. This
bold-eyed matron with a voice of brass had, undoubtedly, something up
her sleeve.
After a few vague enquiries respecting heat, and snakes, Mrs. Bond,
assuming a more confidential attitude, took the plunge.
"Do you know, Major Tallboys, you have made Cousin Fanny just crazy
about India. Poor dear, she has seen so little of the world."
"So I gather from what she told me."
"I'll bet you a pair of gloves she never told you the reason," the lady
went on impressively, "or that she has been a slave and a martyr to a
terrible old father for ten years! Poor Fan was his drudge and nurse,
and yet she never complained--though it was a dog's life."
"Some dogs haven't half a bad time," argued her companion (who was
thinking of his own happy pack and their assiduous "dog boy").
"Not those that are chained in back yards," declared the matchmaker.
"Fan was always on the chain."
"Did no one interfere?"
"What can you do, between a father and a daughter?--though he was
a Pharaoh--not a father. Besides, we were all mortally afraid of
Uncle James, and never went near him. His temper was something
frightful--just like a tiger with the toothache!"
"How exceedingly unpleasant! Was he always in this deplorable
condition?" enquired Major Tallboys.
"No, he lost a lot of money in some shipping firm, and that soured
him for life. He dropped all his friends, and gave up a fine house
in Prince's Park, Liverpool, and went over to a dingy little terrace
in Tranmere. We never could make out, if he was very poor, or just a
miser. I know, he only took a weekly paper, and gave Fan ten pounds a
year to dress on. Now she is free, and her own mistress, she does not
know what to do with her liberty, and believes she is grieving for the
old man."
Here Mrs. Bond paused for breath, and to dab the stump of her cigarette
in the ash-tray.
"His affairs were in a shocking state," she resumed, "one would think a
monkey had kept his books; but my Joe says there will be a good bit of
money, and that Fan will have between four and five hundred a year!"
Major Tallboys liked Fan for herself, and had hitherto believed her to
be of the genus "poor relation." He noticed that she was the Cinderella
of the family, who ran messages, was left out of expeditions, and
evidently held of no account. Four or five hundred a year would be an
agreeable addition to a major's pay and allowances. He chucked the end
of his cigar into a shrub, and looked Mrs. Bond squarely in the face.
"And I tell you this," she continued eagerly, "Fan is the kindest,
simplest, and most unselfish of women; whoever gets her"--patting his
sleeve with a hateful significance--"will have the best of wives!"
"I am sure of that," he agreed in a studiously bland voice, but his air
was cold and detached, his eyes gleamed frostily, under his somewhat
heavy brows. He was fond of Fanny, but he had no intention of being
managed and rushed by this great, blowsy woman, and abruptly turned the
conversation by remarking:
"I see by the evening paper they have a heat wave in Berlin; how
fortunate _we_ are in our weather!"
"It was no go," the disconcerted matron whispered to her sister; "I did
my big best, but he wouldn't rise--no, not even when I mentioned her
income! He got quite lofty, and shut me up by talking of the _weather_.
So now I can see Fan in our spare back, at Waterloo, for life; I shall
charge her four guineas a week, and laundry. After all, she will be
useful! Since Nan has her hair up she is a regular handful, and must
have some sort of keeper or chaperone to take her to her classes in
Liverpool."
"Nan is as clever as they make 'em, and no fool," remarked her aunt.
"Pity she's so ugly," she added with that unaffected candour habitual
among near relatives; "I'm afraid you'll never get her off--no more
than Fan--she's so cocksey, and so blunt."
Meanwhile, behind a newspaper in the smoking-room, Major Tallboys was
holding a serious mental debate. Of late, as he made his leisured and
fastidious toilet, and preened himself before a glass, he noticed with
grief and pain the deeper furrows in his forehead, and the whitening of
his brown hair. Yes, he was getting on, and if he ever meant to marry,
there was no time to be lost! His mind's eye cast a nervous glance
towards the army of elderly and old men who rented rooms near the
Club--their only home; men, without family ties or affection, their
whole interest bounded by the daily press; desolate poor fellows, who
were tended in sickness by a landlady, or a professional nurse, and
passed out of life, unsped, and unwept.
Fanny Bond was amiable and sympathetic; amazingly well read too!--a
free library had been her only solace and joy. Children and dogs adored
her; her appreciation of himself was unquestionable! She had a slim,
graceful figure, a certain amount of good looks--masses of dark hair,
a pair of confiding brown eyes, slightly prominent, but otherwise
perfect teeth. Her relatives however were a serious drawback;--in fact,
Mrs. Bond's impudent interference had gone near to shattering her
cousin's prospects--but down in his little battered heart there was a
warm corner for Fanny; and a nice-looking, unselfish woman, with five
hundred a year, was by no means to be despised.
Night brings wisdom, and the morning after his interview with Mrs.
Joe, arrayed in a creaseless suit and wearing his most becoming tie,
Major Tallboys invited Miss Bond "to come for a turn in the garden?" By
degrees, he conducted the conversation to her favourite subject, travel.
"I believe we are going to Switzerland this winter," she announced,
"and I cannot tell you how much I look forward to my first trip abroad."
The pair were now pacing a retired walk, overshadowed by a rustic
pergola veiled in masses of pink roses,--one of the glories of the
hotel garden. Major Tallboys, casting a searching glance over his
surroundings, came to an abrupt halt. Although a ladies' man, and the
hero of countless flirtations, the good-looking, agreeable little
soldier was about to make his first serious proposal!
This resolution had been hardening in his mind ever since he had
swallowed his early morning cup of tea.
"How would you like to go to India?" he enquired of his companion.
Colouring vividly, she exclaimed, "Oh, I should like it better than
anything in the world, but I shall never get the chance!"
She looked surprisingly handsome, with her glowing cheeks, and soft
dark eyes; the plain, ill-made alpaca entirely failed to conceal her
slender grace.
"Well, Miss Bond," clearing his throat and looking at her steadily,
"I offer you the chance here and now. Fanny, I am greatly attached to
you--will you be my wife?" and he tendered a thin, sun-dried hand.
For a moment Fanny felt stunned; she stared at her suitor with
stupefied incredulity, then burst into tears.
This sudden opening of the gates of the world and life, so far
transcended her humble hopes. In spite of her cousins' crude and brutal
chaff, Fanny had never thought of the Major's attentions as otherwise
than the good-nature of an idle man, who noticed that she was forlorn,
and a little out of it--the word "neglected" never occurred to her
simple heart.
Tears such as Miss Bond's are quickly dried--on this occasion they
were dealt with by the Major's own delicate silk handkerchief. For
some time, she and her companion remained talking very earnestly to
one another under the pergola, but what they said was known only to
eavesdropping "Dorothy Perkins" and her pretty sisters.
Within half an hour, an engaged couple--each decorated with a pink
rose--turned their happy faces towards the hotel. As they approached
with lagging steps, they were "spotted" by Mrs. Joe, who happened to
be extended in a verandah chair, smoking the inevitable cigarette, and
mentally selecting her autumn toilette. In a second, she had realised
the situation, and springing to her feet, upsetting an ink-bottle and
ash-tray, she clapped her hands in noisy acclamation.
It was arranged that the wedding was to take place within a
month--since there was really nothing to wait for, and the bridegroom
wished the bride to see something of her own country, before sailing
for India.
Bond himself was a good fellow, but his wife, sister-in-law, and
mother-in-law--no. To Major Tallboys it was unbearable that he should
be called "Freddy," in season and out of season, and publicly chaffed
and _kissed_, by the overwhelming Mrs. Joe. The trousseau was selected
in Liverpool--that city of fine shops--and Major Tallboys gave his
fiancée a diamond ring, an unpretentious pendant, and much valuable
advice. The honeymoon was spent in London, with excursions to Devon,
Oxford, and Warwickshire; the newly married pair also made a round of
the theatres, picture galleries, and museums. Great indeed are the
marvels that dress, and a good conceit of oneself, can achieve. Joe
Bond, meeting his cousin in a shop, actually failed to recognise in
this elegant lady, with rustling skirts, a black-feathered hat, white
gloves, and beautifully dressed hair, the dowdy and deprecating Fan!
Shortly before they sailed, the happy couple received intelligence
calculated to still further increase their bliss.
The affairs of the late James Bond, merchant and shipmaster, had been
wound up, and proved that he had been a miser, and, like his kind,
had died a wealthy man. "Frances Ann," his only child, was heiress to
something over five thousand a year.
Mrs. Tallboys' relatives received these tidings with unaffected
consternation, and annoyance. Here was Fanny, a rich woman, married
to a stuck-up little dandy who was carrying her and her fine fortune
out of the country. The capital of this fortune would have made a
noble bulwark to the house of "Bond, Tubbs, and Co." cotton brokers,
and enabled them to extend their business into hitherto undreamt of
regions. Had the Major any inkling of this hidden treasure when he
proposed to Fan? The base suspicion was unfounded--nevertheless it
rankled. Freddy Tallboys was equally thunderstruck by this amazing
windfall; as for his wife--recalling long years of grey poverty--she
could not realise her tens of thousands, and felt as if the whole
world had been turned upside down! However, her clever and practical
husband promptly grasped the change in their circumstances, interviewed
lawyers, bankers, stockbrokers, purchased for Fan a string of pearls,
a superb landau, and a supply of plate and china,--suitable for
entertaining on a generous scale.
Arriving from furlough with a bride whose fortune had been magnified
to millions, his many friends welcomed and applauded clever Freddy.
He had waited to some purpose! At one time it had been feared that
he was about to be snapped up by a girl from Bellary, a hard-riding,
red-haired spin, without a pice!
The return to India, a familiar environment, and a full and busy life,
had worked a transformation in Fanny's husband, and placed him before
her in a still more dazzling light.
On furlough, this naturally keen and busy officer found himself a
nobody!--idle, bored, unrecognised, and consequently inclined to be
irritable, super-critical, and dyspeptic. Once more in harness (a
nice staff appointment) and surrounded by familiar scenes and old
associates, he was a different person full of high spirits, buoyant
energy, and bonhomie.
His bride recognised his importance in his own circle, his popularity
among men, and looked with awe upon orderlies, brass-bound chuprassies,
long official envelopes, and the ever-arriving telegram. A Freddy,
wearing a clanking sword and gold spurs, was new to her, and indeed
Major Tallboys in full-dress uniform (a pattern to his rank) presented
a remarkably dignified, and soldier-like, appearance.
After a short stay in Madras, a bungalow in the Neilgherries was
Fanny's first home. It was at Ooty that she engaged her Indian retinue,
unpacked her glass and china, and set up her own dog. Her husband's
friends, so well known by name, had unanimously offered her a hearty
welcome; these were mostly military people, with easy, agreeable
manners. Her garden was fragrant with roses and violets, the view from
the verandah of Cranford Hall was unsurpassed, and how the sun shone!
Caught into a whirl of congenial society, Frances Ann found herself in
another world.
She realised that she owed this translation from suburbia and gloom
to sunshine and happiness, to Freddy, and worshipped him accordingly.
To behold him of a hunting morning, red-coated, admirably mounted,
"witching the field with matchless horsemanship," was a sight that
filled his wife with a pride and admiration, she was at no pains to
conceal.
Under her husband's guidance and encouragement, Fanny cast away her
shyness, and learnt to play tennis, to drive a pair of hard-mouthed
ponies, and to entertain with self-confidence and grace. So adaptable
was she, that by the end of a year, there was no more popular hostess
than Mrs. Tallboys.
Her kind heart, the memory of her dreary youth, and gratitude
for present good fortune, combined to make her tenderly
sympathetic,--especially towards forlorn, friendless girls, and all
sorts, and conditions, of her own sex.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Mrs. Tallboys is figuratively waiting in the doorway,
her long dark hair hanging in two thick plaits, her eyes fixed
interrogatively upon her lord and master.
"I've had such a morning!" she began, "going through the rooms,
arranging for people, sending the new-comers into dinner according to
precedence, doing the flowers and menus, that I'm dead, and am taking
forty winks before they all arrive. Is there anything you want altered,
Freddy?"
"No, no, my love; I've just rushed in for a second to tell you about
young Mallender. I couldn't say much on the telephone," and in a couple
of pithy sentences, he had laid before her Geoffrey's extraordinary
enterprise.
"Of course, it must be stopped! He is mad to start off at once. I've
handed him over to Byng at the Club, and stuck him to play in the
tournament; this will give us breathing-time."
"Breathing-time," repeated his wife, whose astonishment had carried her
into an arm-chair.
"Here, read this," handing her the precious letter, "and you will
understand the whole position. I know you are safe, Fan, and can be
trusted with a family secret."
For a moment he stood watching her closely as she sat engrossed in the
sheet of thin yellow paper; then he fidgetted restlessly round the
room, straightening a book here, an ornament there.
"What astounding news!" she exclaimed at last; "can you believe it? Do
you think it's _pucka_? or a practical joke?"
"I believe the letter to be genuine," he answered decisively, "and if
the boy--a very nice young fellow--persists in his folly, he will be
made to pay for it! Four thousand a year is no blind nut, and I intend
to put every possible obstacle in his way; not merely because I am
heir, but because I like him."
"What sort of obstacles do you suggest, Freddy?"
"Amusements, distractions, polo, balls, pretty faces. We will knock
this nonsense out of his head, and take him to the Hills when we move;
there he can shoot and hunt, and you might marry him off to some
nice girl; by the time the roof is on, they can return and live at
Mallender!"
"Ah, so that's your programme!" exclaimed his wife. "Well, of course, I
shall be only too delighted to help; but perhaps your cousin is not so
easily managed, and married off, as you suppose!"
"Oh, he'll be all right. I fancy he got a bit hipped, living all alone.
I leave you to tackle him, Fan; this sort of job is your speciality.
Keep the boy incessantly occupied and entertained, and, whatever you
do, my dear girl, don't let him slip through your fingers!"
And with this emphatic injunction Colonel Tallboys waved a valedictory
hand, and disappeared.