Chapter VII

The ladies--sixteen in number--streamed forlornly into the drawing-room, where they broke up into groups--like gravitating to like. The General's wife and Mrs. Tallboys embarked on congenial topics, local charities, and an imminent bazaar; the wearer of the jaunty green feather was captured by Mrs. Fiske, eager to hear the latest news of Barbie's prospects. Barbie and Miss Sim, drawn to one another by mutual sympathy, left the room together, to seek a secluded corner of the verandah, and popular Nancy Brander on her way to a beckoning friend was waylaid by her recent neighbour.

"Do stop and talk to _me_ for a moment!" urged Mrs. Villars, leading her aside. "I want to ask your opinion of my new frock?"

"_Ravissante! Ravissante!_" pronounced Nancy, throwing up her hands. After a pause she added: "I must confess that my chief sentiment is _envy_!"

"It arrived to-day from Mervéille--there is nothing," complacently viewing herself in a long mirror, "like a well-cut new gown for giving a woman an air of superiority--is there?"

"Do you feel so superior?" enquired Mrs. Brander in a bantering voice. "No doubt there _is_ something in what you say. I certainly feel twice as important in a pair of Morkoph's smart shoes as I do in my wobbly goloshes!"

"Good gracious, fancy wearing them!"

"Fancy _not_ wearing them in the rains," rejoined Nancy. "I expect your superior gown cost a pretty penny."

"No; they let me have two for ninety."

"Rupees or guineas?"

"Nan, you are really _too_ bad! I call this cheap for fifty--look at the embroidery, all hand-made--real Mechlin lace--and then the cut!"

"It is not my idea of economy. I never give more than fifteen--and times are so bad."

"But if people only buy frumpish gowns that cost a few pounds--what _is_ to become of the poor tradespeople?"

"Perhaps they may be better off--and have less bad debts," suggested Nancy.

Mrs. Villars coloured guiltily, but instantly recovering her aplomb, said: "I declare your black gown has quite a French effect--where did it come from?"

"My verandah."

"_Dirzee_ made! Never! I simply refuse to believe you. Nan, this is one of your jokes?"

"A joke I cut out with my own hands. I'm full of ideas, and my man is an artist. I have good models, too--Fanny's best; and now and then I get a box out from home."

"But why this miserable economy? your husband's pay, your own fortune----"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Mrs. Brander, "but there are plenty of calls on one's purse, besides spending money on chiffons."

"Are there? I don't think a woman can invest her coin to better advantage than in making herself a pleasure to behold."

"And you would still be that, even if you wore nothing but a blanket and a string of beads."

This verdict was all the more flattering because unwillingly bestowed.

"Really, Nancy," and the beauty laughed, "I hope I may not be reduced to a single garment!--but one never can tell. I am over head and ears in debt."

"And yet you spend ninety guineas at one swoop!"

"Yes, my dear,--debt is like drink. You go on, and on, and on. The more you spend--the more you drink--the tighter the thing takes hold of you! By the way, I was really forgetting something I wanted to ask. What do you think of him?"

"Him?" repeated Mrs. Brander, "which him? We have so many hims this evening, hims ancient and modern!"

"Don't be silly. I mean the nice boy that sat between us at dinner, and by the way, darling, you poached shamelessly!"

"Oh, you mean Captain Mallender. I like him."

"What were you so busy talking about?"

"Let me see," putting her hand to her forehead, "the climate, the ancient Britons, and the Zoo."

"You are always so blue and cultured," declared Mrs. Villars. "I think Captain Mallender very good-looking: such a cheery manner, such gay dark eyes, and a boyish smile; he parts his hair just as I like it! Fan asked me to take charge of him, and be extra nice."

"And so you were! You are always nice--to men," corrected Nancy, with a disarming smile. "You know he is Fred's cousin, out from home."

"And where _is_ his home? What is it like?"

"The photo is in Fred's sanctum, a lovely old Jacobean place standing in a great park."

"So this good-looking boy is rich!"

Nancy nodded.

"And how long is he going to stay?"

"Oh, the usual time--as long as ever he likes."

"I wonder what has brought him out? Says he does not shoot, what can it be?"

"Perhaps to search for a wife?" gaily suggested Mrs. Brander.

"As if a man in _his_ position would look at an Indian spin!" rejoined Mrs. Villars with withering scorn.

"He might do worse," argued the other briskly. "We have a large assortment of really pretty girls, quite fresh and dainty--nothing shop soiled!"

"Really, Nancy, what dreadful things you do say! and if you call any girl in Madras pretty--_I_ don't." As Mrs. Villars concluded, she turned and surveyed herself in the glass, and Nancy Brander thus released effected her escape.

Lena Villars was a shallow, more or less amiable woman, endowed by nature with a lovely face, perfect health, and perennial youth--but stinted in the matter of heart and brain, and with a moral outlook that was somewhat oblique.

She appreciated luxury, had a consuming passion for clothes, and was absolutely devoid of the money sense. Her chief interest in life was the attitude of men towards herself, and she cherished an inexorable resolution to be first, or nowhere.

After gazing exhaustively at her own charming reflection, the beauty stole away to her room, there to repair some little flaws in her toilet previous to the great business of the evening.

Meanwhile, in a remote corner of the verandah, the two girl friends were exchanging miserable confidences in low voices.

"Mother has taken _two_ passages in the Bibby Line for the first week in April," said Barbie Miller. "There is no money to pay for mine--if there were, it would make no difference. She says it's providential that Colonel Harris wishes to marry me, and considers me extraordinarily lucky."

"And what do you say, Barbie?"

"You know very well, Ada. I am still holding out, though the announcement of my engagement has been sent home. I'm afraid Colonel Harris has offered to pay for my trousseau, and I know that he has 'settled' quite a lot of things, including one or two big bills, and given mother a lovely diamond ring. Really, he is most generous; and if he did not want to _marry_ me, I'd like him well enough! I overheard mother telling Mrs. Fiske that the wedding is to take place in the Cathedral early one morning, and we are to start immediately afterwards for the Shevaroy Hills. Honestly, I could not feel more wretched if I were going to be hanged--indeed, I don't think I'd mind!"

"I only wish I had your chance," declared her companion with energy, "I'd marry Colonel Harris like a shot!"

"Oh, _Ada_!" and Barbie stared incredulously.

"Yes, you don't know what it is to be alone in the world, and penniless," declared her friend forcibly; "he, at least, could give me a roof over my head, and a home. Your case is nothing as compared to mine; I am really in despair. I've not enough money to pay the dhoby, or put in the collection plate, or buy stamps. My clothes are so mended and so shabby I am ashamed to be seen. All the same, I don't think anyone but Mrs. Brander guesses that I am so absolutely destitute. Last time she was here she insisted on lending me a hundred rupees--such a boon!--she said she knew what little odds and ends a girl on her own wanted, and I was to pay her any time; and she gave me a lovely hat, because it did not suit her, and several pairs of gloves, because they were too small, and an evening-gown, because her husband could not bear it! For all her funny talk, she is a darling--just like Mrs. Tallboys."

"Does _she_ not know that you are so hard up, Ada?"

"No, and I try to keep it from her. She has been only too kind; she paid my railway ticket down to Calicut, and sent an ayah with me. This is my second visit here, she invited me for a month, and I've stayed two. I feel such a worm, and so deadly ashamed. Mrs. Fiske enquired if I was living here altogether, and said 'this house should be called Hooper's Hotel.'"

"How horrid--and how like her!"

"I know that my room is wanted for Captain Mallender," continued Ada, "the ayah told me so. I've asked the Bells at Coimbatore to take me in, but they made an excuse. Now I've written to the Carsons at Trichy--they are my very _last_ hope. I've no money, and nothing to sell. I sold the pretty frock Nancy Brander gave me--a sergeant's wife offered twenty-five rupees for it; the ayah took ten for commission, and I've told such stories about the gown to Nancy! But poor people _have_ to lie! All I have left are three rupees. I'm so unhappy, so worn out with anxiety and shame, that I wish I were dead! I'd drown myself, only there is no place to do it in--the Cooum is filthy, and off the pier there are sharks!"

"Dear, dear, old Ada," said her companion, stroking her arm, "if I could only bring myself to marry Colonel Harris, you should come and live with _me_. I am as poor as a church mouse, but I can easily let you have ten rupees--and you must, and shall take it! It will at least pay for wires, and stamps, and be a little help in putting you in communication with friends, who might invite you."

"Friends," echoed Ada, "I've none; those I had are thoroughly sick of me, and no wonder. I'm not pretty, or amusing, or accomplished, I don't play bridge for money, I'm not even good-tempered. Just a plain, stupid bore. They say that the poor always help the poor--and it's true--but I won't take your ten rupees, Barbie."

Seeing that Barbie was about to protest, she hurried on:

"Do explain one thing, which puzzles me. Why is Colonel Harris so anxious to marry you, when he, and all the world, must see how you hang back?"

"Why?--because of the hanging back! Mother tells him I'm so shy and timid, such a mere shrinking child, afraid to show my _real_ feelings--and he believes her. I won't call him James, and I won't allow kissing, nor will I accept presents. I beg him to give them to me--afterwards."

"Do you think there will be an afterwards?"

"Ada," she drew a long sigh, "I hope not, but you know I am no match for mother; she is so fiercely determined, so cruel, and so strong. Now listen to me, I'm going to say something dreadful--I almost wish I had been born an orphan, and if mother does go home, and leaves me behind, I hope I may never, never, see her again. Oh," springing up, "she is calling me--the men have come in, and I must fly!"

Presently there were sounds of music in the drawing-room, and if Ada Sim had accompanied her companion--instead of sitting sobbing in a corner of the verandah--she would have heard Mrs. Brander give a superb rendering of Chopin. Subsequently poor Barbie was driven to the Grand Schiedmayer, where with cold and trembling fingers she proceeded to murder Schumann--fortunately not a soul was listening; almost everyone's attention was riveted on the bridge tables so seductively set forth; with their adequate complement of chairs and cards they seemed to summon the company to "come and play."

Mrs. Villars beckoned airily to her new friend, and said:

"I hear from Captain Byng that he has roped you in for polo, he is _so_ pleased."

"I am afraid his pleasure is a bit premature!" rejoined Mallender. "I am out of practice, and I believe some of the competing teams are first-rate."

"You mean the Marauders. Colonel Molyneux's lot?"

"Yes, and the Motagherry Planters; though only two or three pony men play a very hot game, so do the Bluebottles."

"I shall come and look on at the practice, and wave my sunshade and scream '_Shabash!_' only they don't say that down here. Ah, they are moving at last! Do let us cut in, with the General and Nancy Brander."

The General's weather-beaten countenance was a study in satisfaction, when Mrs. Brander fell to his lot as a partner, for her play was famous. Here was a lady who made no mistakes, never lost her head, and knew the history of every card. Their opponents were Captain Mallender, and Mrs. Villars,--who made a delightful picture, as she dealt out the pack with flying jewelled fingers. At first, all the best of the red suits seemed to fall to her and her partner. By and by, the luck turned, the fortunate couple were slammed once and again; the lady made reckless declarations in the true gambler's spirit, ever hoping to retrieve her luck--and lost the rubber, and fifty rupees.

Occasionally Mallender, when "dummy," rose and strolled about the room, exchanging remarks and experiences with his fellow-dummies, and glancing at various other tables. At one of these sat Mrs. Fiske, grumbling incessantly, and bewailing her ill-luck in a manner that was maddening to her companions.

"Never had such luck--this isn't a hand--it's a foot! Don't know what it is to hold a card--nothing but Yarboughs, and Chicane--perfectly _sickening_!"

The serious, stern, and business-like bridgers, such as the future great General, Freddy Tallboys, and Mrs. Damer, played "auction" with grim concentration; here was no whining, no court-martial on indifferent partners. Nothing, nothing, but what Sarah Battle loved, "the rigour of the game." At another table sat Sir William Bream, Mrs. Tallboys, Colonel Harris and Miss Miller. Unhappy girl! her present (and future) partner, found it impossible to conceal his emotion when she trumped his best diamond, and led straight away into the enemy's suit! It is conceded that cards develop one's real disposition, and expose our worst failings; such as envy, jealousy, tyranny, ingratitude, meanness, avarice, and cowardice. Mallender glanced over at Colonel Harris. His face was a deep plum--quite dangerously inflamed; how his great thick neck seemed to swell and bulge over the stiff staff collar! Then the looker-on moved round and stood behind Miss Barbie; he noted her flickering colour, and tremulous lips, as she fumbled with her cards--uncertain what to play. He longed to give her a quiet hint, as she hesitated between a king and a nine; meanwhile her _vis-à-vis_ shuffled his feet impatiently, and her adversaries exchanged significant smiles. As Mallender watched the irresolute girl, he noticed her wealth of beautiful hair, her slender, graceful neck, cheap white frock, and thin silver bangles. Her small childish hands were ringless--apparently, as yet, there was no engagement. He moved away to his own place, just in time to escape the explosion of wrath which burst over the head of little Miss Miller. Of course, as he anticipated, she had played the wrong card, and lost both game and rubber. Bridge continued with unabated zeal till nearly one o'clock, when the General, remembering an early inspection, rose a well-pleased guest--and winner. Mallender and Mrs. Villars had lost ninety rupees, and as the latter gathered up her wisp of a lace handkerchief and little chain purse she said with a smile:

"Let us hope for better luck to-morrow, Captain Mallender! If you will pay the General,--I will settle with Mrs. Brander."

He noticed Mrs. Brander's amused and somewhat inscrutable expression as she collected her gloves and nodded a careless assent.

When the last guest had departed, the last motor hummed away, Mallender, as he followed Anthony and a lantern to his outdoor quarters, realised that this had indeed been an evening of many impressions! A little later, when Colonel Tallboys had locked up the cigars, he came bustling into his wife's room, and found her locking up her diamonds.

"Your usual success, Fan! The dinner was A1, the mutton hung to a second, and that new champagne is very sound."

"That is your department, my dear. Yes, I think everything went off well, and people enjoyed themselves."

"All except that unfortunate Miss Sim, who looked like a death's head--but then, she doesn't play bridge. I say, what about Geoffrey, eh? He got along all right. I'm glad to see that shyness is not one of his difficulties. Molyneux was much taken with him, but these Cavalry chaps always hang on to one another. After you left, he was a help, talking away to the General, and that shikari man; by the way, you've not said a word to anyone about the reason of his trip?"

"My dear Fred, need you ask?" and Mrs. Tallboys confronted him gravely. "I don't want people to suppose that there is insanity in your family!--not that Geoffrey is insane--he is merely obsessed with an idea. The poor romantic boy was too long alone at Mallender; his father's illness and death got on his nerves. He is naturally cheery, and the change out here, with lots of lively company, will effect a cure; he is a dear fellow, with such nice unaffected, courteous manners, and a bright open face."

"Oh!--I see he has been admiring your _china_!" declared Colonel Tallboys with a grin of comprehension.

"No; but I may tell you that I, like Colonel Molyneux, am 'much taken with him.'"

"And he with Mrs. Villars?"

"Yes, you noticed that, in spite of William's smothered wrath, I sent him in to dinner with Lena."

"A capital move. Though I thought William looked pretty sick! So you are bent upon strong measures?"

"I don't know what you call strong measures, but I had a little talk with Geoffrey. I realise that he is completely overmastered by one idea, and I am determined to do all I can to prevent his risking his whole fortune on a wild-goose chase."

"I understand. Between polo, and the beauty, you hope to get the better of this obsession, and to head him off from his crazy enterprise. Well, Fan, you and I will do our best; and as, of course, you have allowed Mary Ayah to retire to her go-down, I suppose I must put on my spectacles, and unlace your dress?"