Part 11 (2/2)

”And what am I going to do?” demanded Mrs. Ermsted fretfully. She was lounging in the easiest chair in Mrs. Ralston's drawing-room with a cigarette between her fingers. A very decided frown was drawing her delicate brows. ”I had no idea you could be so fickle,” she said.

”My dear, I shall welcome you here just as heartily as I ever have,”

Mrs. Ralston a.s.sured her, without lifting her eyes from the muslin frock at which she was busily st.i.tching.

Mrs. Ermsted pouted. ”That may be. But I shan't come very often when she is here. I don't like widows. They are either so melancholy that they give you the hump or so self-important that you want to slap them. I never did fancy this girl, as you know. Much too haughty and superior.”

”You never knew her, dear,” said Mrs. Ralston.

Mrs. Ermsted's laugh had a touch of venom. ”As I have tried more than once to make you realize,” she said, ”there are at least two points of view to everybody. You, dear Mrs. Ralston, always wear rose-coloured spectacles, with the unfortunate result that your opinion is so unvaryingly favourable that n.o.body values it.”

Mrs. Ralston's faded face flushed faintly. She worked on in silence.

For a s.p.a.ce Netta Ermsted smoked her cigarette with her eyes fixed upon s.p.a.ce; then very suddenly she spoke again. ”I wonder if Ralph Dacre committed suicide.”

Mrs. Ralston started at the abrupt surmise. She looked up for the first time. ”Really, my dear! What an extraordinary thing to say!”

Little Mrs. Ermsted jerked up her chin aggressively. ”Why extraordinary, I wonder? Nothing could be more extraordinary than his death. Either he jumped over the precipice or she pushed him over when he wasn't looking.

I wonder which.”

But at that Mrs. Ralston gravely arose and rebuked her. She never suffered any nervous qualms when dealing with this volatile friend of hers. ”It is more than foolish,” she said with decision; ”it is wicked, to talk like that. I will not sit and listen to you. You have a very mischievous brain, Netta. You ought to keep it under better control.”

Mrs. Ermsted stretched out her dainty feet in front of her and made a grimace. ”When you call me Netta, I always know it is getting serious,”

she remarked. ”I withdraw it all, my dear angel, with the utmost liberality. You shall see how generous I can be to my supplanter. But do like a good soul finish those tiresome tucks before you begin to be really cross with me! Poor little Tessa really needs that frock, and _ayah_ is such a shocking worker. I shan't be able to turn to you for anything when the estimable Mrs. Dacre is here. In fact I shall be driven to Mrs. Burton for companions.h.i.+p and counsel, and shall become more catty than ever.”

”My dear, please”--Mrs. Ralston spoke very earnestly--”do not imagine for an instant that having that poor girl to care for will make the smallest difference to my friends.h.i.+p for you! I hope to see as much of you and little Tessa as I have ever seen. I feel that Stella would be fond of children. Your little one would be a comfort to any sore heart.”

”She can be a positive little devil,” observed Tessa's mother dispa.s.sionately. ”But it's better than being a saint, isn't it? Look at that hateful child, Cedric Burton--detestable little ape! That Burton complacency gets on my nerves, especially in a child. But then look at the Burtons! How could they help having horrible little self-opinionated apes for children?”

”My dear, your tongue--your tongue!” protested Mrs. Ralston.

Mrs. Ermsted shot it out and in again with an impudent smile. ”Well, what's the matter with it? It's quite a candid one--like your own. A little more pointed perhaps and something venomous upon occasion. But it has its good qualities also. At least it is never insincere.”

”Of that I am sure.” Mrs. Ralston spoke with ready kindliness. ”But, oh, my dear, if it were only a little more charitable!”

Netta Ermsted smiled at her like a wayward child. ”I like saying nasty things about people,” she said. ”It amuses me. Besides, they're nearly always true. Do tell me what you think of that latest hat erection of Lady Harriet's! I never saw her look more aristocratically hideous in my life than she looked at the Rajah's garden-party yesterday. I felt quite sorry for the Rajah, for he's a nice boy notwithstanding his forty wives, and he likes pretty things.” She gave a little laugh, and stretched her white arms up, clasping her hands behind her head. ”I have promised to ride with him in the early mornings now and then. Won't darling d.i.c.k be jealous when he knows?”

Mrs. Ralston uttered a sigh. There were times when all her attempts to reform this giddy little b.u.t.terfly seemed unavailing. Nevertheless, being sound of principle and unfailingly conscientious, she made a gallant effort. ”Do you think you ought to do that, dear? I always think that we ought to live more circ.u.mspectly here at Bhulwana than down at Kurrumpore. And--if I may be allowed to say so--your husband is such a good, kind man, so indulgent, it seems unfair to take advantage of it.”

”Oh, is he?” laughed Netta. ”How ill you know my doughty Richard! Why, it's half the fun in life to make him mad. He nearly turned me over his knee and spanked me the last time.”

”My dear, I wish he had!” said Mrs. Ralston, with downright fervour. ”It would do you good.”

”Think so?” Netta flicked the ash from her cigarette with a disdainful gesture. ”It all depends. I should either wors.h.i.+p him or loath him afterwards. I wonder which. Poor old Richard! It's silly of him to stay in love with the same person always, isn't it? I couldn't be so monotonous if I tried.”

”In fact if he cared less about you, you would think more of him,”

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