Part 7 (1/2)

”All right, little 'un,” he laughed gladly, finis.h.i.+ng his sherry at a gulp, and, ere catching the little mite in his arms, giving himself that smartening pull together which was so characteristic of the man.

He looked very handsome, very happy, as he came up, with Gladys shaking her curls at him in outrageous flirtation.

”How kind!” said Muriel. ”I don't know what I should do without you.”

That was all; but it sent him off in absolute content to tackle the stoutest lady in the room.

”If _you_ make the move, Mrs. Campbell,” he said diplomatically, ”everyone will follow, and I know Mrs. Smith is anxious we should start, as it will take some time to go round.”

”Ay! that it will!” a.s.sented the good lady in a mournful Scotch accent.

”'Deed if it were not for Dr. James--” she glanced fearfully at a tall man in a black frock coat--a man whose patriarchal beard had once been red and was now the colour of a carpet whisk--who was b.u.t.tonholing Father Ninian; the latter, with his straight slenderness, looking almost youthful beside the other's burly bulk.

”I wouldn't go if I didn't want to,” put in a sharp-featured lady who belonged to another black frock coat--a small one. ”You spoil the doctor, Mrs. Campbell. As I tell _my_ husband, I yield to him in spiritual matters--the mission, you know, and all that; but when it comes to realities--the housekeeping, and what we are to eat, and do, and that sort of thing--that is my province.”

Mrs. Campbell turned her fat good-natured face on her neighbour's placidly. ”Ay, my dear; but ye didn't promise to be a wife to Dr.

James, an' I did. So, Captain Dering, if you can find my niece--”

”Miss Shepherd is quite safe, Mrs. Campbell. Carlyon's looking after her,” interrupted Vincent, feeling another spasm of sheer virtue. He had seen the two sitting together at lunch, apparently interested in each other, and he had noticed how Lance, on entering the drawing-room, had made his way straight to those coils of red-bronze hair which had a trick of being the most conspicuous point in any group of which they formed part. So Lance would enjoy himself simply; he would not have to gain pleasure in complex fas.h.i.+on by dragging about a _posse_ of uninteresting old ladies, for the sake of a lady who was neither.

Vincent's face had a bored look as he began his task by piloting his charge into the verandah, and so on into the open.

It was hot work crossing the stretch of sand which lay between the bungalow and the red brick abutments of the ca.n.a.l head; but once there, with the broad still basin of the united rivers before you, a cool breeze blew pleasantly from that blue barrier of hills with the gold-spiked temples of Eshwara enamelled against it, and a soft white mist hiding the feet of the far-distant snows; so hiding the ”Cradle of the G.o.ds! The floods had gone, however, and so had the robe of righteousness. The sandbanks lay bare, of the earth, earthy. The logs, too, were no longer dipping and dancing in the currents. Some were piled criss-cross on the spit, awaiting ransomers, and a few lay like straight shadows, half in, half out of the receding water.

”A log! not a bit of it!” said someone, stooping for a stone. ”Look!”

The missile fell far short of the low streak of sand and shadow, but did its work. The shadow disappeared, as a bottle-nosed alligator slipped silently into the stream. Most eyes watched it, but Lance Carlyon's turned to Erda Shepherd. He had only met her once, casually, when he was out fis.h.i.+ng on the spit, since the day when Father Ninian had introduced them, and they had seen something else in the river that was also not a log.

”Do you remember,” he began impulsively, ”the first time we met?”

A shadow slipped into her limpid bronze eyes also. ”Certainly,” she interrupted coldly. ”It is not so very long ago--is it?”

She had fenced with his a.s.sumption of friendliness more than once already; feeling vexed with herself, the while, that she should do so.

Since what did it matter? However much she might regret--and she had regretted with foolish unseen blushes as she had lain awake at night wondering what had possessed her--the almost indecent unveiling of realities in that first five minutes, she could not undo it. Besides, she had told herself, he had in all probability forgotten it in polo, and partridge-shooting, fis.h.i.+ng, and such things.

But he had not, apparently; and he parried her fence with a still more friendly laugh.

”I didn't mean that, of course; but we won't talk of it, if you'd rather not. It isn't a very Mark Tapleyish subject, is it, for an afternoon party?”

The blush was to be seen this time. ”So I have been thinking myself, Mr. Carlyon, ever since last Wednesday,” she began, still more coldly, ”and I am sorry--”

He interrupted her quite cavalierly. ”I didn't mean that, either, and you know I didn't. However, we'll leave it alone. So you're not coming to the ball! Do you know, I think it's an awful pity; I'm sure you'd dance beautifully.”

She felt outraged, in a way, and yet she smiled. He seemed so much younger than she was. Younger; but stronger and more vital. That calm a.s.sertion, too, that she knew she was playing feminine tricks with him, had been manly and dignified to quite a crus.h.i.+ng degree. She could not help being at once meek and indulgent.

”I don't dance, Mr. Carlyon,” she said quietly; adding, as a rider and salve to her conscience, ”I--I think it wrong.”

”I thought you might,” he returned, evidently pleased at his own ac.u.men, ”but I don't see it that way. Of course if--if you go in for those ideas, you know, you can make it seem--well--awful low; but I--”

he paused before even a possible sounding of his own trumpet--”you see I think it's awfully jolly; besides, it's such ripping good exercise, and I have to be careful, I tell you, not to put on flesh. I ride thirteen-four, as it is.” His face grew grave over the confession.

”Is that much?” she said, her eyes caught and held by the splendid figure beside her. ”You are very tall, surely.” There was almost a pride in her tone, certainly a tenderness.