Part 23 (1/2)
Hester would have been quite contented to gaze on the picturesque scene as a spectator only, but though she had not taken time by the forelock like Miss Glanton, partners were not wanting. She was at once sought after and began to enter into the rythmical waltz movement.
She was glad to see that her husband was enjoying the favours of Miss Glanton, but as yet she had not caught sight of Mark Cheveril or his chief, and began to fear that at the last moment Mr. Worsley had devised some specious excuse for absenting himself. On being whirled, however, to the neighbourhood of the dais, she perceived the Collector descending from it, his arm linked in that of one of the Government house-party who seemed delighted to have captured him, and was now leading him off to one of the comparatively quiet side-aisles to pursue their talk unmolested by the jostling dancers. Mr. Worsley's face broke into a pleased smile as he happened to catch a glimpse in the mazes of the waltz of his late companion on the beach, and he and his soldier friend stood watching her for a moment before they retired to seek a quiet nook.
Presently Hester also caught sight of Mark dancing with the younger daughter of the Governor, a graceful girl who danced to perfection, and not a few eyes followed the handsome pair.
Mark, though courteous in his duty to his partner, seemed somewhat absent-minded. More than once she noticed his eyes following the movements of the beautiful Mrs. Rayner. He was in truth trying to divine how things had gone with her since they had parted that afternoon. He had some fear that on her return to Clive's Road she might again have had to encounter a repet.i.tion of the scene which still haunted him like a nightmare. Great, therefore, was his surprise, after he had conducted his partner to a seat, and was standing gazing at the bright scene, to be accosted by Alfred Rayner.
”Good evening, Cheveril!” he said jauntily. ”Glad to see you were honoured by one of the Duke's daughters. I shouldn't have presumed--but nothing venture nothing win!”
Mark, not having any reply ready, maintained a grave silence, which the speaker evidently translated into an att.i.tude of offence towards himself, and still a.s.suming a conciliatory tone, he said:
”Look here, Cheveril! I want to apologise in dust and ashes for making such an a.s.s of myself the other morning. The fact is a night at Palaveram mess makes a wreck of a fellow. You must forgive and forget my nasty fit of temper, and as a proof of this do go and ask Hester for the next dance. I see she is at this moment wasting her fragrance on what I should call 'the desert air'--talking to Mrs. Fellowes!”
”Thanks for the suggestion! I shall certainly speak to both ladies with pleasure,” returned Mark.
Whereupon Mr. Rayner seemed to take for granted that his favour deserved a return. He laid his hand on Mark's sleeve, saying in a coaxing tone:
”I say, Cheveril, I'm going to ask a favour of you! Will you, like a good fellow, introduce me to Mr. Worsley?--or rather, I should put it--bring me again under his notice, for we were introduced at the Club some time after my arrival in Madras. I left my card on him, but no doubt he has now forgotten the name of the humble barrister.”
Mark fervently wished that the Collector of Puranapore had forgotten it, for he feared the requested introduction would prove a th.o.r.n.y business; in fact he quickly decided that for Mr. Rayner's own sake it must not be ventured on. Looking at him with frank, honest eyes he said quickly:
”I'm afraid I must not, Rayner, though in other circ.u.mstances nothing would have given me greater pleasure.”
He felt greatly relieved when at this moment a Club acquaintance claimed his company and led him off.
”'Other circ.u.mstances,' forsooth, just like your half-caste impudence!”
muttered Mr. Rayner, as he turned on his heel and moved away. The band struck up a new waltz and he remembered that Clarice Glanton had promised him this dance. Threading his way towards her, they were soon in the vortex of the s.h.i.+ning floor. Clarice noticed that her companion's gay mood was now replaced by an absent, gloomy air. She began at once to chaff him concerning the change, and Rayner, who was often communicative when reticence would have stood him in better stead, burst forth:
”Oh, it's that young jackanapes, Cheveril, who always rubs me up the wrong way!”
”What, green-eyed jealousy again! I can't see you've any cause for it at this moment. He hasn't once been dancing with your wife, though he has had several partners--and dances well, I observe. As for your precious Hester, she seems glued to a dark corner there, no doubt exchanging views with Mrs. Fellowes about flannels and petticoats for their 'Friendly'!”
”You're always so literal, Clarice. I don't ever harp on one string! It doesn't happen to be jealousy of Cheveril at this moment. Rayner's wife, like Caesar's, is above suspicion! I'll tell you what's bothering me. I happen, for business reasons, to want to have a word with the Collector of Puranapore, and I asked Cheveril to introduce me to him. The surly beggar shuffles out of it in the coolest manner possible. Very rude of him, isn't it? No wonder I'm a bit ruffled!” Mr. Rayner wound up peevishly.
”An introduction to old Mr. Worsley! Why, if that will make you a smiling partner there's no difficulty about it. He's an old chum of the pater's. I've known him since I was a little mite of a child, and he has always a smile for me, for all they say he's such an old bear. Wait till this dance is finished and we'll seek him out.”
Miss Glanton was as good as her word. The iridescent-robed maiden looked very charming, when, with her red lips parted showing s.h.i.+ning white teeth, she approached the Collector, holding out her hand:
”Clarice, of course,” said Mr. Worsley, ”transformed into a dragon-fly or something of the kind.”
”So glad you happen to know me this time,” said the girl airily.
”Well, I don't take credit for any special intelligence, young lady, but you haven't grown, for instance, since we last met!”
”Mercifully not! I don't admire tall women,” she replied spitefully, her eye travelling to Hester's graceful willowy figure gliding past with Mark Cheveril. Then glancing at the man by her side she recalled her present mission.
”I want to introduce my friend here who wishes to know the Collector of Puranapore. Mr. Rayner--Mr. Worsley!”
The barrister made a profound bow, lowering his eyelids as he did so.
When he raised them, Mr. Worsley's nod had changed to a frown.