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"What did you do _that_ for?" she demanded, a ring of defiance in her voice. "I want to ask the Kresneys; and I will--all the same."
"Indeed, little woman, you'll do nothing of the sort."
"Why? What's wrong with them, Theo? They're quite decent people, as far as I can see."
"Which doesn't prove that you can see very far! You must just take my word for it, that whatever else they may be, the Kresneys are not our sort at all."
"I suppose you really mean they're not up to _Frontier Cavalry form!_"
she retorted, not without a thrill of fear at her own daring; for the pride of the Frontier Force is a deeply-rooted pride; and, considering its records, not unjustifiable after all.
Desmond's eyes flashed fire, and a sharp retort rose to his lips. But, after a brief silence, he answered his wife with a restraint that spoke volumes to the girl at the tea-table behind him.
"Your taunt is unjust and untrue. In a general way we accept most people for what they are, out here. But one has to draw the line somewhere, even in India. If I were Deputy-Commissioner, the Kresneys would be asked along with the rest. But, in my position, I am free to make distinctions. And I have very good reasons for not asking Kresney to an informal picnic of my particular friends. On neutral ground, such as the club, or the tennis-courts, I have nothing to say; though I should naturally feel pleased if you considered my wishes a little in this matter."
"Well, then, why can't you consider _mine_ a little too? I told Miss Kresney about it, and she's expecting to come."
"I'm sorry for that; I don't want to hurt the girl's feelings. But you can't take people up just for once and ignore them afterwards. The truth is, they both see plainly enough that you haven't quite got the hang of things out here yet, and they are naturally taking full advantage of the fact."
Evelyn's pa.s.sing gentleness evaporated on the instant.
"They're _not!_" she protested wrathfully. "And it's horrid of you to say such things! They like me, I don't see why I shouldn't be nice to them. Besides, this is _my_ picnic--I planned it--and if _I'm_ the hostess I can ask who I please." The touch of young importance that sounded through the petulance of her tone dispelled the last shadow of Desmond's annoyance and set him smiling.
"Why, of course, Ladybird--within reasonable limits. But after all, the hospitality offered is mine; and what's more, the hostess is mine into the bargain!"
He laid his hand lightly against the rose-flush of her cheek, but she jerked it impatiently aside.
"Oh, well, if you will take it that way," he said, in a tone of resigned weariness, and turning abruptly on his heel came across to Honor, whose cheeks were almost as hot as Evelyn's own.
"I'm glad Alla Dad Khan made himself interesting this afternoon," he remarked conversationally. "Ressaldar Rajinder Singh, who commands my Sikh troop, is very anxious to come and pay his respects some day soon. You see, as your father's daughter and the Major's sister you are a rather special person for us all. But I must be off now. The fellows will be waiting. I'll arrange about the Sirdar to-morrow."
On the threshold he paused and looked towards his wife, who still sat with her back to the room, her head supported on her hand.
"Good-bye, Ladybird," he said, and there was marked kindliness in his tone.
She acknowledged the words with a scarcely perceptible movement, and a few minutes later the rattle of hoofs on the road came sharply to their ears.
Honor's anger flamed up and overflowed.
"Oh, Evelyn, how _can_ you behave like that to him!"
Still no answer; only, after a short silence, Evelyn rose and faced her friend. Then Honor saw that her cheeks were wet and her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears.
It is to be feared that her first sensation was one of pure annoyance.
Evelyn thoroughly deserved a scolding: and here she was, as usual, disarming rebuke by her genuine distress.
"_Now_, I suppose he'll go--and get _killed!_" she said, in a choked voice.
"My dear child, what nonsense! He'll come back safe enough. You don't deserve that he should be so patient with you--you don't indeed!"
Evelyn looked up at her with piteous drowned eyes, whose expression had the effect of making Honor feel altogether in the wrong.
"He shouldn't have made such disagreeable remarks about me and the Kresneys, then," she said brokenly. "All the same, I wanted to speak to him. But--I was crying, and I couldn't make a scene--with _you_ there. And now--if anything happens to him, and--I never see him again,--it'll be all _your_ fault!"
With that finely illogical conclusion she swept out of the room, leaving Honor serenely unimpressed by her own share in the impending tragedy, yet not a little troubled at thought of the man who, for the rest of his natural life, lay at the mercy of such bewildering methods of reasoning.
CHAPTER V.
AN EXPURGATED EDITION.
"A little lurking secret of the blood; A little serpent secret, rankling keen."
The Kresneys looked in vain for the coveted invitation, and the trifling circ.u.mstance loomed largely on their narrow horizon.
Owen Kresney possessed in a high degree that talent for discovering or inventing slights which is pride of race run crooked, and reveals the taint of mixed blood in a man's veins. As District Superintendent of Police he had relieved his predecessor in the middle of the hot weather. His sister being at Mussoorie, he had arrived alone; and, in accordance with the friendly spirit of the Frontier, had been made an honorary member of the station Mess, where he had found himself very much a stranger in a strange land.
The man's self-conceit was unlimited; his sense of humour _nil_; and in less than a month he had been unanimously voted a "_pukka_[12]
bounder" by that isolated community of Englishmen, who played as hard as they worked, and invariably "played the game"; a code of morals which had apparently been left out of Kresney's desultory education.
The fact revealed itself in a hundred infinitesimal ways, and each revelation added a fresh stone to the wall that sprang up apace between himself and his companions.
[12] Thorough.
Among them all Desmond and Wyndham represented, in the highest degree, those unattainable attributes which Kresney was secretly disposed to envy; and his narrow soul solaced itself by heartily detesting their possessors. This ability to recognise the highest without the least desire to reach it, breeds more than half the pangs of envy, hatred, and malice that corrode the lesser natures of earth. But there were also, in Kresney's case, personal and particular reasons which served to nourish these microbes of the soul.
Toward the close of the hot weather the man's growing unpopularity had been established by an incident at Mess, which brought him into such sharp contact with Desmond as he was not likely to forget.
There had been a very small party at dinner. Several of the older men were absent on leave, and three were on the sick list, no uncommon occurrence in Frontier stations. Thus it had chanced that Desmond was the senior officer present.
The wine had already been round twice when the sound of a lady's name, spoken in pa.s.sing, had diverted Kresney's attention from his own dissatisfied thoughts.
It chanced that he had met this same lady at Murree a year ago, and that she had roundly snubbed his advances towards intimacy. The unexpected mention of her name revived that sense of injury which smoulders in such natures like a live coal; and on the same instant awoke the desire to hit back with the readiest weapon available.
Forgetful of the restriction imposed by the rigid code of the mess-table, he launched the first disparaging comment that sprang to his mind.
Directly the sentence was out, he could have bitten his own tongue for pure vexation.
It fell crisp and clear into a chasm of silence, as a dropped pebble plashes into a well.
The stillness lasted nearly a minute, and while it lasted Kresney felt the fire of Desmond's glance through his lowered lids. Then some one hazarded a remark, and the incident was submerged in a renewed tide of talk.
When dinner broke up, with a general movement towards the ante-room, Kresney became aware that Desmond was at his side.
"You will be good enough to come into the verandah with me," he had said in a tone of command; and Kresney, feeling ignominiously like a chidden schoolboy, had had no choice but to obey.
Before that brief interview was ended, the man had heard the truth about himself for the first time in his life, with the sole result that he registered in his heart an unquenchable hatred of the speaker.