CHAPTER IX.
Mrs. Goldring, the Judge's wife at Puranapore, had finished herafternoon nap and was now preparing for the leading event of the day,the evening game at tennis, which on this occasion was to be held atMrs. Samptor's, the wife of the Superintendent of the District Jail. Shewas therefore not a little surprised to see that lady descending fromher pony-carriage at her own door when she was just about to drive tothe Samptor's compound. Matters of interest in the little Mofussilsociety were narrow in their range, but they were none the less intense.
Mrs. Goldring snatched her last hatpin hurriedly from the deferentialbrown fingers of her waiting ayah.
"What can the woman want, Jane?" she said irritably, addressing herweary-looking daughter, who had just appeared on the threshold of thedressing-room. "I told her she couldn't have my silver teapot again. Shealmost burnt a hole in it last time, 'putting it on a lamp,' so shesaid! If I were at home I should say it had squatted on the kitchenrange for a considerable time! I do hate that system of borrowing somuch in vogue here! I suppose I must go and see what she wants. Now,Jane," she added, after a disapproving survey of her daughter, "I begyou will make yourself presentable for once. It isn't often your fathergives me a piece of news, but he did tell me that the newAssistant-Collector was expected to-day. He may turn up for tennis ifthe Collector isn't too careless and indifferent to think of asking himto come. What a pity our meeting happens to be at Mrs. Samptor's. Hemight get a better impression of the station had it been elsewhere."
Jane stood unresponsive in the doorway. Her eyelids moved slightly asshe listened to her mother's remarks, but she made no reply, sullenlywatching her mother's portly figure clad in rustling silks as she passeddownstairs.
Mrs. Goldring greeted her visitor with an interrogative "Well?" whichMrs. Samptor was keenly conscious of being more direct than polite, butshe felt that the item of news which she was bursting to tell was soimportant that she could afford to echo "Well!" in a key which foretoldpossibilities.
"You will be surprised to see me here, Mrs. Goldring, instead of meetingme on my own lawn, but I saw I had a clear half-hour and thought it myduty to share my news with you. It may avoid complications later, as youwill understand when you hear it."
The Judge's wife inwardly wished that her neighbour would not always beso long in coming to the point, but felt on the whole relieved that thistime she did not appear in her frequent role of a borrower.
"Murder will out, as I often say to Samptor--very appropriate to ajailer, isn't it now? Well, the fact is I've had a letter from anacquaintance who has just got back to Madras by the _Bokhara_. Mr. MarkCheveril, our new Assistant-Collector, you know, was a fellow-passenger.Perfectly charming she says he is, but--oh dear, what do you think? Mrs.Pate had it from a man on board, who had it from Cheveril himself. He'sa half-caste! Though one would never guess it from his appearance, shesays, and the astonishing thing is that he isn't the least ashamed ofthe fact; but Mrs. Pate confesses he never alluded to the flaw in herhearing. Now, isn't this a great shock?"
Mrs. Samptor glanced keenly at her neighbour, divining that the comingof an eligible young man must have raised a flutter of hope in hermaternal heart.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Samptor," said that lady, after a moment's pause. "Weshan't have the half-caste--as you call him--among us long. TheCollector will soon shake him off."
"That's the very plank I cling to as might a drowning man, but Samptor'snot so sure. One can never reckon on what Mr. Worsley may do! But Istill cling to the hope. Look how he got rid of young Printer! There areways and means of doing it even in the Service, though what ailed him atPrinter I never could make out--most affable, I thought him. And thoughthe Collector never said a word against him to anybody as far as I know,I felt in my bones he couldn't abide the man, and sure enough he wastransferred. And I hear there were others before we came that hecouldn't hit it off with. A man of strong prejudices and weak will, thedoctor says he is--in confidence, of course. But he's a bit of a'griffin' yet is Dr. Campbell, though he's a dear, and so is his wife.However, this news doesn't matter to me personally," continued thevisitor, rolling her eyes on Mrs. Goldring, who was not altogether ableto conceal her annoyance, much as she desired to do so. "You see Ihaven't any marriageable daughter with seasons passing over her head! Ideclare, one sometimes is made thankful for what is often foolishlyregarded as a privation," she added with a sigh.
"Now, Mrs. Goldring, what I've come to say is," she continued after apause, bending forward in her chair, "that the Collector should be toldthis news at once. What does he ever hear--out in camp so much--and whenat home lounging in his long chair or shooting in the paddy fields? Andwho is the proper person to do it but yourself--the Judge's wife--thechief lady of the station? Yes, Mrs. Goldring, we must hand over thedisagreeables of your position as well as its amenities! You will haveyour opportunity made for you, for the Collector is actually coming tous this afternoon--told Samptor so."
Again she felt that she had scored, for the Collector was generallyrather conspicuous by his absence from the social functions of thelittle society.
"But what am I thinking of? I should be in my place on my lawn receivingmy guests instead of chattering here, and there is my humble chariotstopping the way of your landau which I see appearing"; and Mrs.Samptor, with an "_au revoir_," nimbly skipped away--many hot weathers,which had encumbered Mrs. Goldring with much superfluous flesh, havinghad the effect of robbing the little lady of all superfluity in thatdirection, leaving her lean and brown-complexioned, and, though"country-born," British to the core in all her prejudices.
Mrs. Goldring's heavy features were marked by an air of worry as shewatched her visitor drive off. How she hated that little woman with hersharp tongue and her divining eyes! And it was only when it suited herpurpose that she would acknowledge her precedence as the Judge's wife,though certainly there was something in the suggestion that she was theproper person to enlighten the Collector concerning this misfortune. Butwhen had she ever confided to Mrs. Samptor that she reckoned on thisnew-comer as a possible fish for her matrimonial bait? Truly she mightsave herself that trouble! The girl was too trying for theaccomplishment of any such design, she thought, glancing with irritationat her daughter who came slowly into the room.
She was a pale girl, blanched by two hot weathers on the plains; therewere dark lines under her dull blue eyes, and her fair hair, which hadbeen her one beauty at home, looked limp and lustreless as it escaped inuntidy strands from her faded tulle hat. Her dress also had awashed-out, crumpled appearance. Yet this girl had been the pride ofloving hearts at home. Notwithstanding their multifarious duties asheads of a select boarding school for young ladies, her father's sistershad mothered her so tenderly that her heart was still tenaciously withthem and their daily round. The artificial life in India was hateful toher, yet it held one bright spot. The face, that had worn such a sullenair, lit up as she heard the sound of wheels.
"Here comes daddy!" she cried, with a note of glee in her voice as shesprang out to the verandah.
The Judge, who had descended from his carriage, had not by any means theimpressive appearance one is wont to attach to legal dignitaries athome. He was a small, meek-looking, fair man, with mild, blinking blueeyes, and a chronically tired expression. Though still in the prime oflife, only his fair hair, unmixed with grey, saved him from giving theimpression of being quite an old man. A struggling youth and theover-pressure of examinations, even more than the ravages of theclimate, had thus prematurely aged him. But the Service had no better ormore devoted member than James Goldring. And as for his loving heart,none knew it better than his daughter Jane, who was now welcoming him.
"Look here, little Jane, why send that big landau to the Kutchery forme? You know I prefer my little bandy."
"Of course, I know, daddy, but mother said the landau was to fetch youthis afternoon."
"I did, James," said Mrs. Goldring, coming forward. "You will persist incoming straight from the Kutchery to tennis
in that hideous littleband-box of yours and stepping out of it like a Jack-in-the-box. You'veno regard for appearances--it doesn't do! And you, Jane, are just thesame, you encourage your father--"
"She does," returned the Judge, with a smile and a loving glint in hisblue eyes as they rested on his daughter. "Well, I suppose I must go andmake myself as gay and festive as you are," he added, looking admiringlyat Jane's faded toilette without the least consciousness of its defects.
"First your cup of tea, daddy," said Jane, bounding off and returningwith a special brew in a lovely Sevres cup and saucer which had beenher gift to him.
"A very bad habit you're getting your father into giving him tea beforehe goes out. And Mrs. Samptor looks furious when he declines hercakes--not that I specially desire to save her feelings," added Mrs.Goldring, recalling the sting of the recent interview.
"Ah, but I do," said the Judge. "So not even a single biscuit with mytea, Jane, that I may do full justice to Mrs. Samptor's cakes, which areexcellent, and made by her own tiny fingers."
"Oh, don't you be paying her any compliments. She's quite conceitedenough already. I've had her here not five minutes ago with no end oftittle-tattle--quite upset me!"
"No end of tittle-tattle in Puranapore! She must have a livelyimagination! I'm sure I've heard nothing exciting at the Kutcheryto-day."
"I shall tell you her news afterwards," said Mrs. Goldring, pursing upher lips as she rose from her chair. "We'd better not keep the horseswaiting longer. I hear the Collector is to be there. I want a word withhim if possible."
"By the way, I did hear a bit of news to-day after all. The newAssistant has arrived! I shouldn't wonder if Worsley brings him round tothe Samptors'."
"That I should think very unlikely from what I've heard this afternoon,knowing the Collector as I do," returned Mrs. Goldring with an emphaticair. "Come, Jane,--how you do loll about! Why did you not put on thatnew frock I took such trouble to order for you instead of that blue ragyour aunts sent?"
"I was just thinking what a pretty blue it was, and how well it matchesJeannie's 'germander' eyes," said the Judge with a smile, patting hisdaughter on the shoulder as she followed her mother to the carriage.
A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life Page 9