The following morning a sonorous "Five o'clock, saar," awoke Mallender
from his too brief slumbers; his first struggling thought was "Where
am I?" The cool crisp atmosphere felt strange, so did the sounds of an
unknown tongue, and a stamping of impatient hoofs, in his immediate
vicinity; then, in a second, he recalled his wits; he was in a tent
in India, and pledged to play polo within an hour. A strong cup of
Neilgherry tea, and a cold tub dispersed his drowsiness, and with
the car's swift passage through the invigorating air his spirits and
energies awoke. Lumbering water-carts were already allaying the red
dust, and evoking a curious and unfamiliar smell of wet and pungent
earth. From all directions people were sallying out for the morning
ride or drive; portly cooks, attended by obsequious coolies (carrying
empty baskets), flocked towards the bazaar, pallid Europe children
were being herded forth on ponies, or in prams, in order to "eat the
air," which, at this hour, was deliciously fresh, the sky incredibly
clear and radiant, quivering with brightness and life. At six o'clock,
all Madras was astir, and everywhere was activity, and bustle. As the
smooth-running Napier sped noiselessly onward, Mallender looked about
him, and realised that he was now in the tropics! Dense masses of
purple Bourgainvillia draped and veiled the roadside bungalows; above
their low brick walls, luxuriant bananas waved graceful, if somewhat
dusty, leaves; "Sally Bidon" creeper and the scarlet gold mohur flung
out their blazing signals. Vivid flocks of green paroquets--"the
pretty dear" of barracks--flashed across from the banyans to the
tulip trees, and tall toddy palms seemed to nod their heavy heads in
languid greeting to the stranger, as he skimmed onwards, across the
Marmelong Bridge, and away into the expanse of Guindy Park--where on
the polo-ground Captain Byng and three smart polo ponies were awaiting
him.
A subsequent practice proved fairly successful; the fourteen one
waler ponies were well trained and handy. As Mallender galloped, and
shouted, and wheeled, and hit, he was once more experiencing the _joie
de vivre_, and feeling the sap of youth in his veins! Mallender Court
and its melancholy memories were forgotten--as was also the great
quest; that he had no other reason for coming to India than to play
this uncommonly fast game, was 'number one's' firm (if momentary)
conviction, as he rode off the Governor's Private Secretary, and scored
the winning goal. This polo match at Guindy seemed to be a social
spring-board, from which the new arrival took a headlong dive into the
mäelstrom of Madras society. He now appeared to live amid the whirl of
engagements: golf, boating on the Adyar, hunting, paper-chasing, bridge
or dinner-parties, and a dance almost every other night. Also he found
friends in the regiment quartered in the Fort and among the artillery
at the Mount, and was almost "snowed under" with invitations. As the
Tallboys' relative, a popular and presentable young fellow, who played
polo, bridge and golf, his company was in continual, and even anxious
request. However, his cousin Fan had always the first claim, and a
quiet evening at home, with music and bridge, with Mrs. Villars for his
partner, was always an attraction. Mallender and the lady became, as
she predicted, great friends; unfortunately it was a friendship that
aroused Sir William Bream's ill-concealed jealousy, and wrath.
"What Mrs. Villars could see in that grinning young whipper-snapper?"
was beyond the range of _his_ intelligence! The substantial self-made
man of sixty was insatiable in his demands for the lady's society, for
her insidious and delicious flatteries, her company to play golf, or to
motor about the neighbourhood.--He liked to be seen with the handsomest
woman in Madras.--Sir William owned a magnificent car; also, it was
whispered, thirty thousand a year.
Colonel Tallboys kept a first-class stable, riding was still his
passion; every morning at an early hour he fared forth, accompanied by
Nan on a fine black waler, and as many of his guests as he could induce
to follow his example. If not hunting, or paper-chasing, they scoured
the Island, rode on the Marina, or the old race-course, returning a gay
and happy pack, to an elaborate _chota-hazri_ awaiting them in the open
verandah.
Mrs. Villars did not care for early rising--nor yet riding--although
she liked to sit about in her becoming habit; occasionally she rode
down to the Island of an evening on a well-exercised pony, proceeding
at no greater pace than a hurried walk, as anything more rapid gave her
a pain in the side; but to state the plain truth, the graceful widow
was a trembling coward.
Every evening the beauty appeared in a different toilet--each
outshining the last. Mallender never could decide which suited her
the best? The black, the rose-colour, the smoke-grey, the white, or
the primrose--Mrs. Villars looked lovely in them all! She consulted
him frankly and artlessly on the subject of her wardrobe, discussed
her frocks, hats, and wraps, with the fervour of an enthusiast. The
lady also confided to him that she was too shockingly extravagant, and
simply adored her clothes!
"Do tell me, which of all my gowns you prefer?" she enquired, looking
at him with the gaze of an _ingénue_.
"The one you are wearing," was his gallant reply.
"You mean that as a compliment, but you must have a choice," she
answered impatiently--the pair were sitting in the verandah after
dinner, enjoying coffee and cigarettes.
"Oh, well, if I must say, I choose the blue."
"The blue!" she repeated, "but why? Men _always_ prefer black, or
white."
"I like the blue, because you wore it the first time I saw you."
"Oh, you dear sentimental boy!" and Mrs. Villars extended a taper white
hand, and patted his arm with playful commendation.
Nancy Brander, who happened to be in their neighbourhood, subsequently
remarked to her aunt:
"I say, Fan, Lena Villars is making tremendous running with
Geoffrey--he has given her a lovely gold bag for her birthday."
"Her birthday!" echoed Mrs. Tallboys, "rubbish--why, it's in October!"
"Yes, but perhaps to some it is convenient to have three or four a
year; and when I was sitting out last evening, I declare I felt quite
_de trop_--I expected every minute to see Geoffrey flop down on his
knees, on the cold marble flags."
"Nonsense! How you talk, Nan!"
"Oh, yes, I can both talk and see. Tell me, dear, do you intend this
case to develop? to go on to the end--I won't say bitter end--and marry
Geoffrey to your _old_ friend?"
"Of course I don't, you tiresome girl, and Lena would not think of him."
"You mean that she has other fish to fry--a big fish too! Well, I wish
them both _joy_ when he is landed in the frying-pan."
The easy manner in which his cousin's great establishment was
maintained was marvellous to Mallender. Three or four, or half a dozen
extra guests appeared to make no difference in the perfect domestic
arrangements; everything went on wheels, everyone was looked after,
everyone was free to do precisely what they pleased. Undoubtedly the
head of the household was a born organiser and manager; a woman of
amazing tact, kindness, and self-control.
Geoffrey was still "an outsider" under canvas, and much preferred
his tent to a bedroom indoors. He enjoyed the complete novelty, the
fresh feel of the morning air as it crept into the tent; he liked
as he lay on his camp cot to watch the dull yellowed grass, tinted
pink by the rising sun, and to hear the birds beginning to stir in
the bushes. Other guests had departed and arrived, and these latter
included a civilian and his sister from Mysore, a cultured American
traveller, and a sprightly married couple, Captain and Mrs. Harcourt
Wylie, acquaintances of Sir William, who knew them at home, and having
casually encountered them on an Indian platform, offered them a warm
invitation to Hooper's Gardens. This they accepted with effusive
thanks--their plans being at the time a little vague and undecided.
"My cousins," announced Sir William, in his broad-chested pompous
style, "are the most hospitable people in a hospitable country; they
keep open house, have a first-class cook, entertain enormously, and do
you royally!"
The Wylies, clever, business-like partners, still in the early
thirties, were capable of making themselves welcome and at home in
most places; they danced admirably, and indefatigably, played bridge
extraordinarily well, and talked and dressed in the latest fashion.
Captain Wylie--who never alluded to his regiment--was a tall thin man,
with a hearty manner, and a cordial voice,--always admirably groomed,
and enviably self-possessed.
His wife was slim, smart and very erect; her features were small and
regular, her eyes small and intent. She wore pearls and diamonds--that
were magnificent imitations--and a fixed, agreeable smile.
Beyond the fact, that Sir William had met them at Monte Carlo, and that
they had come out in someone's suite, no one knew much about them; but
they were always lively and enthusiastic, ready to do anything, or go
anywhere at a moment's notice. The Wylies referred to well-known people
as their friends, and by their Christian names, and had evidently
stayed about, and enjoyed themselves vastly; but whether they had a
home of their own, or any belongings, was never positively disclosed.
Nancy Brander did not like "the Prince and Princess Charming"--she
thought the lady sharp and pushing, the man a well-mannered inquisitive
snob--but as Nancy was in the minority, she wisely held her peace.
A grand ball at the Banqueting Hall, given by His Excellency the
Governor, was the first that Mallender attended. Everything was
admirably done; the great room was crowded with everyone who was on
"Government House List." He danced with Mrs. Villars, and sat out
with her; noting with secret pride how much she was sought after,
and how she was followed by the admiring eyes of men and women. She
looked lovely in a Princess gown of gold satin, with a gold butterfly
spreading its wings across her Empire bodice--butterflies caught up
the graceful gold net draperies of her narrow skirt, and a golden band
crowned her classic head. Yet the beauty of the night had honoured him
with two waltzes and a supper dance! The beauty of the night danced
divinely, as did Mallender; numerous wallflowers, and others, found it
a real pleasure to contemplate them. Besides Mrs. Villars, Mallender
waltzed with Mrs. Wylie,--whose style was perfection itself,--with
Nancy and Fan, and several charming girls, among the latter Miss Miller.
She was pretty and girlish, and coloured up when he accosted her, and
asked for a dance; subsequently when resting between two turns, they
attempted the usual spasmodic conversation, he noticed for the first
time how _very_ blue her eyes were!
In answer to his question, Miss Miller informed him that the only other
part of India she knew was Cannanore on the west coast.
"Not many balls there, I take it?" he said.
"No, there were few ladies, the place is like a sponge, so terribly
damp and wet. We had one or two small dances,--but on a chunam floor,
and a drugget."
"And the going pretty bad! I think I saw you riding in the paper-chase
the other day."
"Yes, on an old Artillery 'caster,' with a mouth like iron. I am
looking forward to the next gymkana, for Colonel Tallboys has offered
me Naughty Mary."
"Has he, indeed!" exclaimed her partner, "she's a bit of a handful, you
know."
"Yes, but I like her, and I am accustomed to what you call 'handsful.'"
"What, at Cannanore?"
"No; there we had bullocks; but I rode a great deal before I came out.
I spent all my holidays, since I was about two years old, on a farm
with my father's old nurse. Her family bred, and broke, hunters, they
had quite a reputation."
"And so you learnt to ride, before you cut your second teeth?"
"Yes, I think so," and as she smiled she displayed two dazzling rows of
these.
"And what else did you learn?"
"To milk and make butter, and rear fowl, and all sorts of unusual
accomplishments."
"What sort, for instance?"
"Well, to drive a mowing machine," and she laughed gaily. "Shall we
take another turn, before the music stops?"
As they launched into the vortex, Mallender felt sincerely sorry to
think that this remarkably pretty bright girl, with all her inborn
country tastes, was about to be delivered over to Colonel Harris, her
father's contemporary!
"Won't you have some refreshment?" he suggested as they moved towards
the buffet, "iced coffee, lemonade, champagne?"
"Lemonade, please. I never take wine. Once I drank a large glass of
champagne, thinking it was ginger-beer; and afterwards----"
"Yes, I know; the floor came up, and hit you in the face!"
"Not quite so bad, but I felt rather dizzy, and very, _very_ miserable."
"Champagne is generally supposed to have the opposite effect, and to
make you very, very happy! Will you give me another dance?"
As Miss Miller studied her programme, her mother appeared, decorated
with the waving green feather, and leaning on the arm of Colonel
Harris. They were both looking alarmingly glum, and the latter said:
"Barbie, this is our dance. Where _have_ you hidden yourself? I've been
searching for you all over the place, I've got a _vis-à-vis_, so come
along," and with a scowl at Mallender, he carried her off. Her mother
however still lingered, and before he was aware, had "puckaroed" (i.e.
captured) her daughter's late partner.
"Oh, Captain Mallender," she simpered, bowing, and coquettishly waving
the green feather, "you are related to my _dearest_ friends--the
Tallboys. I've known Colonel Tallboys for twenty years, and more, and
I feel that I know you. I remember Freddy, a smart handsome young man
_too_," she paused expressively, "and such a flirt! Will you be a dear
good Samaritan and get me a glass of champagne?--I feel ready to faint!"
Startled by the threat, Mallender hastened to supply the lady's
wants, but as the buffet was crowded, he had, what seemed to him, a
long time to wait, and meanwhile she chattered continually; airing
the now somewhat faded graces, that had once made her the belle of
an up-country station. As Mallender listened to her remarks upon the
other guests--chiefly critical and destructive--looked into her face,
observed her close-set, reddish-brown eyes, and straight thin-lipped
mouth, he felt moved with a sense of profound compassion for her
daughter. When at last they re-entered the ball-room after this tedious
and wearisome delay, a waltz was being played, and the sprightly matron
said:
"I know you are not dancing this, Captain Mallender, so _do_ take a
little turn with me?" and before her victim had time to remonstrate,
or to realise the situation, he was swimming round the room with the
future mother-in-law of Colonel Harris.
Mrs. Miller danced,--as do many Anglo-Indian ladies,--remarkably well.
She was slight and supple, and had the advantage of a score of years
of incessant practice. The face now resting on her partner's shoulder,
wore an indescribable expression of ecstatic triumph, for here was she,
a woman with a grown-up daughter (and having to take what she could
get, among the rubbish-heap of partners), waltzing "Mon Rêve" with one
of the smartest, and most popular young men in Madras! However, her
ecstasy proved short-lived; when the music had wailed out the last
bars, she gasped:
"Oh, that was a treat. Now do find us a cosy corner!"
But instead of complying with this alluring request, her cavalier
conducted the lady to a prominent chair, and with a formal bow,
withdrew, sternly determined that he would not--as she had broadly
hinted--be her companion in a "Kàla Jaga" and at supper.
The next grand ball took place within the ancient walls of Fort St.
George; and Mallender, who was now on his guard, hastened to fill his
programme at the earliest opportunity. He secured dances with Nancy,
Mrs. Villars, Mrs. Wylie, and various pretty girls, but gave Mrs.
Miller a cautiously wide berth, steadily ignoring her smiles, signals,
and even wafted kisses!
However, she danced all night, as if for very life; but he noticed that
little Miss Barbie--looking rather white and woebegone--sat out the
greater part of the evening with her burly Colonel.