Chapter VIII

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.