CHAPTER XIX.
Christmas gaieties were now in the air. The pleasant life-longassociations which cluster round that season for Anglo-Indians seem tourge them to almost feverish anxiety to celebrate it with increased zealin their exile. The whole community in fact catches the contagion. Thenatives, both civil and sepoy, look forward to "Kismas" as a time ofgifts and _tomashas_; while the Eurasian community vie with each otherin imitating its time-honoured rites.
To Hester Rayner its approach brought more than a suspicion ofhomesickness. She remembered sadly that the glad old greetings wouldsound for other ears than hers in the dear home far away, while to herhusband, the chief preoccupation seemed the success of the impendingdinner-party on which he had set his heart. The invitations had beenduly issued by Hester, and to his satisfaction the hoped-for guests hadall responded, two covers being reserved for the Collector of Puranaporeand his Assistant.
The dinner had been arranged on an even more lavish scale than any oftheir former entertainments. The rarest flowers procurable were ordered.The menu was to be purveyed by D'Angelis, a clever Italian chef, whosent forth the daintiest of entrees and savouries, and the mostdelectable of ice-puddings.
"All must be of the most elegant and select," said Mr. Rayner, lookingup from his lists before him. "I want old Worsley to see what afirst-rate dinner 'La'yer Rayner' can give. I've ordered cases of thebest hock and champagne to please his fastidious palate. I hear his boyis an excellent caterer, and no doubt Worsley is a _bonne fourchette_."
But disappointment came in the shape of a note from Mark Cheveril toHester, to tell her that he and his chief were engaged for ChristmasEve. She read Mark's letter aloud in faltering tones, knowing thechagrin it would bring to her husband, who said bitterly:
"A very lukewarm friend, Hester! He might easily have arranged to cometo us if he had cared to. Yet what friendship he professed for you andthe whole Bellairs family! But you see it is just in such selfish movesthat his half-caste blood comes out!"
Hester did not like her husband throwing the blame on Mark, yet shecould not help feeling that her old friend might have remembered howmuch it would mean to her to see a home face among the new acquaintanceswho were to gather round their board. Mr. Rayner seemed anxious toignore the disappointment.
"I can easily provide substitutes," he remarked airily, "who will beproud to sit at my table." But Hester felt that this artificial occasionwould only remind her sorrowfully of the happy gatherings of Pinkthorpedays; the excitement of decorating the village church, the frostysunsets, the joys of holly and misletoe, and the festive air whichseemed to pervade everything.
Christmas Eve came round. She had already dressed for dinner, wearing,at her husband's request, her wedding dress, with beautiful, whitecamellias at her waist and on her fair wavy hair.
"Oh, ma'm, how booful you looking," said her ayah, with manyejaculations of admiration; and she called Rosie to have a peep at thebeautiful Dosani.
Hester had just fastened her gold cross with its tiny chain on her neckwhen her husband entered the room.
"How fortunate I've remembered, Hester! I've just excavated yourdiamonds from my safe. I believe you wanted to give them a prematureburial there! Not so shall you treat my loving gifts, my love! Off withthat trumpery cross and let me see my gems sparkling on your beautifulneck!"
Hester tried hard to conceal the disappointment she felt at having towear the ostentatious jewel, but she saw it was inevitable, though theayah, on the pretext of arranging the folds of her dress, whispered toher: "Missus wear cross--that plentee luckee jewel!"
The change, however, was effected, though Hester averted her eyes fromthe mirror that she might not behold herself in the resplendent gem,though she felt somewhat rewarded for her self-sacrifice by herhusband's gratification.
The long elaborate dinner seemed to drag endlessly, and it was apparentto Hester that one or two of the guests looked bored. After the ladiesreturned to the drawing-room, the "rankest" lady, whom the host hadtaken into dinner, said to her with a pronounced yawn:
"I didn't like to ask your husband--but my dear Mrs. Rayner, what becameof the Collector of Puranapore? I understood he was to be your guestthis evening?"
"Oh, that was only a peradventure, Mrs. Grace. Mr. Worsley only arrivedin Madras to-day, and was engaged for this evening."
"Then he declined your invitation?" asked Mrs. Grace sharply. "And hisAssistant, did he also decline? I thought we were to have the pleasureof meeting both. In fact, Mr. Rayner told my husband so some time ago."She was about to add: "And but for that expectation we would have alsodeclined the invitation." But even the Mrs. Graces of Anglo-Indiansociety have bounds which they cannot pass.
Observing the flush that rose to her hostess's face, she changed thetopic, though on her drive home she did not fail to remark to herhusband:
"That favourite of yours has shifty eyes, my dear. I don't like the man,and he lured us to that dull party on false pretences. I discoveredthat neither Mr. Worsley nor his Sub. had accepted the invitation to theparty--found it out from Mrs. Rayner. Sorry for her, poor thing! Sheseems a lady, didn't even try to explain away her husband's snaring ofus, though I saw she felt it. And what an extravagant dinner! Why, thoseflowers must have cost a fortune! And the things all came fromD'Angelis, I recognised his dishes."
"First-rate wine," remarked Mr. Grace in a plethoric voice. "Wish Icould afford such good stuff! Rayner must be a rich man. That feastanyhow must have cost a mint of money!"
"And did you see his wife's diamonds too? A new acquisitionevidently--never saw them before. A little gold cross was all the girlever wore. I expect he was bullied into that expensive gift, or perhapsshe got it from some admirer."
"What cats you women are! Don't believe that girl could bully anybodythough she tried. To my mind she's the most ladylike girl about justnow. I felt sorry for her to-night. Her face had a sad look when shewasn't trying to talk to that dull fellow who took her in. I don't knowwhere Rayner picked him up. I suppose he was asked to fill theCollector's place."
The conjugal remarks as the relays of carriages swept out of theRayner's compound bore a strong resemblance to each other. The host andhostess were also keenly aware that the elaborate dinner-party had beenless successful than any of its predecessors, though that knowledgeaffected them differently.
"I close my cheque book to dinners of that sort in future," said Mr.Rayner with a snarl, as he flung himself on a lounging chair in theverandah and betook himself to a cheroot. "Ungrateful pack, one and all!They only came to eat D'Angelis' excellent _pate de foie gras_ and tossdown my magnums of the best champagne. Shan't get the chance again!"
Hester expressed herself by no means sorry to hear her husband registerthis vow, and added musingly:
"Small dinner parties can be delightful. You remember when we dined atMrs. Fellowes' there were only eight of us in all. And how bright thetalk was, and how prettily Mrs. Fellowes had decorated the table withthose simple tendrils from her own hedge, and how beautifully thosesilver tankards shone--the Colonel's sporting trophies, his own and hisfather's, who had been in the same regiment. He told me so manyinteresting things about the Native Infantry that evening. And thenthose pretty old English ballads Mrs. Fellowes sang were delightful."
"Well, Hester, I'm sure you might have given us a song to-night! Itwould have made a variety. Why didn't you?"
"Because you said last time we had a dinner-party that nobody was to beasked to sing--that music seemed a disturbing element to the lords ofcreation over their wine--so I forbore. Or, rather, I should say, it wasnever suggested. I shouldn't think Mrs. Grace cared for music. But I'llgive you a Christmas carol now before we go to bed if you like. It willchase away the gaudy note of our last big dinner-party. Oh, I'm so glad,Alfred, you've made up your mind not to have any more of those 'meetingsof debtors and creditors,' as someone calls them," said Hester morecheerfully, as she went to the piano and pondered which of the oldcarols she would choose for this Christma
s Eve, deciding that nothingcould be more welcome than the hymn which calls us to "lay aside ourcrushing load and hear the angels sing."
Hester lingered for some time at the piano singing old favourites. Whenshe rose from it, the little cloud which had been resting on her seemedoverlaid by the spirit of peace. She felt vexed as she drew near herhusband's chair that there was no response to the gladsome words. He satstaring gloomily into the darkness, and she did not venture to disturbhim.
Next morning Hester was astir even earlier than usual. She had preparedlittle Christmas presents for each of the numerous servants, andenjoyed their evident gratified reception of them. Her ayah and Rosiewere soon resplendent in her gift of new sarees. Even the _malis_ werenot forgotten, and deposited their big red watering-chattees in front ofthe house while they made salaams to the Dosani in return for their newturbans.
Mr. Rayner had been employing his early Christmas morning by making abig bonfire of old papers outside the verandah of his writing-room,coaxing the flames in the still air with a palm leaf. While so engaged atelegram was handed to him.
"Horrid news from Palaveram, Hester," he called to his wife. "Young Hydeshot himself last night after mess--just as I was trying to extricatehim from his troubles. They've asked me to go out to arrange matters.Great nuisance! I meant to spend the day peacefully lounging about theverandah and smoking cheroots."
"Young Hyde dead by his own hand! Oh, poor boy, how dreadfully sad!"exclaimed Hester in horror, mourning another "rashly importunate gone tohis death" in that long sad procession of broken lives.
Mr. Rayner left after breakfast, and Hester felt glad she could respondto the chimes of the Cathedral, which were ringing for worship on thisChristmas morning. They seemed to have a special note for her saddenedheart, telling of the wideness of God's mercy--like that fair,illimitable ocean in its shining peace which swept round these shores,and of which she could catch glimpses as she took her solitary drive tochurch to find strength and hope in the all-embracing symbols ofInfinite Love.
She returned home soothed and helped by the familiar service whichseemed to forge a link between the little village church at home and thenoble Cathedral beneath the waving Indian palms.
A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life Page 19