GIFTS AND CONGRATULATIONS
When it became known in the palace that Grace and the rajah were formally betrothed, there was a joyful little tumult of excitement and delight. Lady Elton, who gave her piece of news in the hall after dinner, was surrounded and congratulated, and laughed at, and cried over in turns; and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she could prevent the little society from rushing in a body into Grace's room, and overwhelming her with the congratulations, which she was scarcely strong enough to receive.
The next morning all sorts of delightful rumours were afloat. Hoosanee had been met in one of the corridors carrying a basket of the loveliest white flowers that ever were seen, the rajah's morning greeting to his bride-that-was-to-be. Sumbaten, who was as much excited as anyone else, brought in word of having seen the rajah riding Snow-queen at break-neck speed—an outlet, the ladies said, to his excited feeling. They smiled one to another as they remarked that he was charmingly young, and would make a most amusing lover. But, in fact—it was Lucy, I think, who made this observation—they were all in love with him themselves; and if Grace hadn't been such a darling as well as a heroine, they could not have allowed her to appropriate him. It was true, indeed, that she was the only unappropriated lady in the palace; but this was a minor detail, and not worthy of being mentioned.
Some one had heard, heaven alone knows how, that the ceremony was to be performed according to the rites of the Church of England, and that a clergyman had been already sent for from Agra or Meerut, upon whose arrival it would immediately take place. Mrs. Lyster suggested that they should find out how Grace was before they disposed of her so summarily; but she found everyone firmly convinced that, being engaged, she would very soon be quite well. In confirmation of this benignant prophecy, cases without number were quoted. 'Ah!' said Mrs. Durant fervently, 'happiness is a great tonic! Think of how miserably ill I was before my darling Kit came.'
'We were all ill,' said Lucy. 'I was afraid to go to sleep at night for the dreadful dreams I had. Now I sleep like a top.'
There was another little person present who had pronounced views as to the tonic quality of happiness; but she was too much preoccupied at the moment to be able to enter into the discussion. Certain sounds, indistinguishable probably to the other members of the talkative little group, had fallen upon her ears. With a vague remark about seeing how Grace was, she left the summer-house. When in the avenue she stood, for a few moments, shading her eyes with her hand; then, smiling to herself, and looking very pretty in the process, she put on the broad-brimmed hat she was swinging in her hand, and turned down a narrow walk fringed with grassy borders and light-leaved acacias.
The sounds, which proceeded from a rich baritone voice singing in a subdued key one of the sentimental English love ditties, that were in vogue at the time, drew nearer. The girl in the straw hat stopped to listen, and there was a mischievous expression in her brown eyes. Then, quick as thought, she darted behind one of the trees. Presently a form followed the voice. It was that of an English cavalry officer in full uniform, with clanking sword and spurs—a tall spare young fellow, whose comely face, burnt brown and red by the sun, and lit by a pair of merry blue eyes, was about as pleasant a sight as it would be possible to look upon. This girl at least found it so, for her face was as red as summer roses, and her eyes were dancing with laughter. He, meanwhile, was looking out before him doubtfully. Seeing no one, he drew out his watch.
'I am sure of the path,' he said half-aloud, 'for I counted the turnings. Can I be early? No, I'm late.'
After another long and fruitless look, which penetrated to the very end of the path, he was turning away with a disappointed sigh, when the wild little creature behind the trees darted out upon him. 'Now Trixy!' he said reproachfully, but he caught both of her hands and held them fast.
She looked up at him audaciously, mimicking him. 'I counted the turnings. Can I be late?'
'Trixy, do you know that it is very naughty to play the eavesdropper? And what if I told you that I knew you were there the whole time?'
'You didn't, Bertie,' she said, blushing. 'I certainly shouldn't believe you did if you assured me of it till to-morrow morning. But don't; it would be monotonous. Besides, I have something to tell you—a great piece of news, a delightful piece of news.' She had linked her arm in his, and he was looking down upon her with an expression of love and admiration that made his frank face and blue eyes beautiful. As for Trixy, she would not for worlds have given utterance to her thoughts, which were irresistibly detained now and then by the vision of her own extraordinary good fortune.
'Can you guess?' she said, looking down that he might not see how her eyes were dancing.
'More arrivals?' he hazarded.
'No, no, guess again.'
'Has the rajah had news from the front?' he cried breathlessly.
'I haven't seen his Excellency yet,' said Trixy drily; 'but I believe he is to honour us with his company at breakfast, which is served in a place like a Greek temple. No, Mr. Bertie, my news is much, much more exciting. Do you give it up? Then I must tell you. Tom and our darling Grace are engaged.'
'Weren't they long ago?' said Bertie, looking puzzled.
'Weren't they long ago?' echoed Trixy. 'Do you know, Bertie, you can be a most uninteresting companion. I thought you would at least be pleased.'
'Why, so I am, Trixy. If they only made up their minds yesterday——'
'But don't you see? Can't you understand? They are formally engaged. Tom acted like a gallant gentleman. He wouldn't say a word till mother came.'
'Oh! that's it, is it?' said Bertie, smiling indulgently. 'And now I suppose you are all in a delightful ferment. Love and lovers, wedding frocks and wedding favours——'
'We are not cynics,' said Trixy loftily. 'I know somebody who used to take a little interest in such things himself. Now, I suppose, when he has convoys, and important matters of that description to look after, he disdains frivolities.'
'If he could disdain them as delightfully as a little friend of his, Trixy, he might have some chance of earning a reputation for solidity.'
'Bravo, Bertie! I call that a well-balanced sentence. But, seriously, are you not glad?'
'I am very glad, Trixy, especially as his Excellency and I will be brothers. Perhaps he may show his fraternal feelings by giving us a lift up. I believe he could do anything he liked with our Government just now. Do you know, little Miss Mocker, that he is one of the most distinguished persons in India at the present moment?'
'I have heard other people say so,' said Trixy with some dignity. 'However, that doesn't matter much. The interesting part of it is that he is engaged to Grace.'
'And Grace is better?' asked Bertie.
'Ah! that is just it,' said Trixy, her eyes filling with tears. 'I may be a little goose—they all tell me I am; but there is something in Grace's face that troubles me.'
'She has had some terrible experiences,' said Bertie, shuddering, as he remembered his day and night at Dost Ali Khan's fort.
'I think they must have been worse than any of us imagine,' whispered Trixy. 'She told mother something the night before last. I asked mother to tell me; but she wouldn't, and there has been a scared look in her face ever since.'
'The rajah has a wonderful story to tell,' said Bertie. 'I was with him yesterday evening, you know. I believe he couldn't face the ladies.'
'And he told you he was engaged?'
'No: he didn't. He left me to infer it. I suppose, from what you say, that it was too near a bliss to be talked about,' said Bertie, smiling. 'And I think he was anxious and troubled. But I drew him on to tell me of his adventures and your sister's, and I think it did him good. I met him, you know, when he was in the depths, clue lost, and almost in despair, but pushing on with a plucky disregard of consequences that made us put him down as mad.'
'God bless him! He is a noble fellow, though he is a rajah and an Excellency!' burst out Trixy. 'Grace ought to get better. She must.'
'If she can, Trixy.'
'Oh! she can! she can! I felt like that after my wound. I was so weak and miserable, and everything was so wretched that I thought it would be better to die and be done with it all. Then you came in, my poor boy! and there was such a troubled look in your face. I couldn't bear it. You seemed to be asking me all the time not to give way. And so, one day I set my teeth together, and clenched my fists, and said to myself, "You are a selfish little fool! You shall get better, you shall." In two days I was on my feet, Bertie, and then—' in a lower voice, and looking up at him with dewy eyes—'Happiness came and cured me!'
The next words, which were chiefly of protest, were inaudible. Bertie had caught her in his arms and was covering her face with kisses.
'If you behave like that,' she said severely, when he had released her, 'I shall never tell you my experiences again. Look at my hair! And when I am just going to take breakfast with his Excellency. No sir! keep your distance, if you please; I can set it right myself.'
'God grant,' said Bertie fervently, 'that your experience may be your sister's!'
'She will have a much better-behaved lover,' said Trixy; 'Tom has some spirit of reverence and romance. He will fall on one knee and kiss the tips of her fingers.'
'Will he?' said Bertie, with fine scorn. 'I should just like to lay a wager with you——'
'So should I; but there would be certain difficulties,' said Trixy demurely. 'Who would hold the stakes, and who would be umpire?' This last mocking question brought them in full view of the garden pavilion.
The rajah, looking a little shame-faced, it must be confessed, but otherwise very much his ordinary self, had joined the party of ladies, who were all congratulating him, each in her own characteristic way. Lucy dropped a deep curtsey and said that she had never supposed she would live to be a ranee's first cousin. She felt at least two inches taller. Mrs. Lyster, whose kind eyes shone brightly through quick tears, caught him by both hands and wished him all the happiness that even heaven itself could send. Kit came forward with a little manly stride that set them all laughing; said he was very glad; hoped they would make haste; but he and 'Billy' weren't at all surprised, they had known it all the time. Mrs. Durant shook her head, and begged the rajah to excuse him. The fact was everyone was spoiling Kit. Then the little Aglaia, her face flushed to a beautiful red, stood up before him, and kissed his hand.
'I love Grace almost as much as I love you now,' she said, in her sweet girlish treble, 'and, oh! may I stay with her?'
'Of course you shall, darling,' said Tom, stooping to kiss the little shining face. Was it a dream—a strange illusion? He looked up, smiling at himself for his folly; but it was with him still. He had seen, or fancied he had seen, Grace's expression in the pretty child's eyes.
At this moment, to the surprise and delight of everyone, Grace herself came in. She was leaning on her mother's arm, and Bertie Liston, who, standing at the door of the pavilion, and debating with himself whether he should go in, had caught sight of them and rushed to their assistance, was helping to support her. Grace looked pale and weak; but they thought there was a new brightness in her eyes, a new vigour in her voice.
As for Tom, no human being could have been happier or more brilliantly triumphant than he was that morning. Bertie had, of course, at once given up to him his place by Grace's side, and he led her to the table with a gentleness and reverence that amused and touched them all. He was quite as enchanting a lover as they had expected to find him; while the beauty and dignity of his appearance had never been so marked as now.
After breakfast he insisted that Grace should rest, impressing upon Lady Elton that they must not let her do too much. Then he went to his own business, which consisted principally in letting his intentions be known in the city, and consulting Chunder Singh and others as to the arrangements he should make to celebrate his marriage, and assure his wife a fitting position. He wrote also to his mother, and Mr. Cherry, and General Elton. This over, there came the usual work in court, after which one or two of the principal citizens waited upon him and begged his permission to present themselves at the palace with their congratulations and offerings.
He thanked them heartily, assured them that the palace would be open, and went off to consult Lady Elton about whether Grace could be present at a reception in the early evening.
Grace, who had been resting all the morning, sent back word that nothing would please her better than to see all who cared to come. So they carried her down into the hall, and while the daylight was fading, and the lovely golden hues of evening were winning their way through the marble lattices, she lay in the midst of her friends, receiving the visits of Indians of every degree, and thanking them, in gracious, gentle words, for the welcome they had given her.
None came without his gift—small gifts of fruit and flowers and sweetmeats, and larger gifts of jewels and rich caskets, and costly robes and embroidered stuffs and perfumes; and as she lay amongst them, her pale thin fingers straying from one to another, she looked, Trixy said laughingly, like a fairy-princess in a rainbow bower.
This day was a sample of several others. Those who could not be admitted the first day came the second and the third. Everyone was anxious to see for himself the gracious, beautiful lady, of whom such wonderful tales were told. Everyone desired to give some token, however small, of his reverence and affection for Byrajee Pirtha Raj, their ruler, who had returned to them in the person of his son. Grace received presents enough those three days to constitute in themselves a rich dower.
There was one, however, whom she expected daily, but who did not appear—Vishnugupta, the priest. At last she made inquiries about him. 'Is it because so many people are coming and going that Vishnugupta keeps away?' she said to Tom one day.
'I expect so; but I will ask about him,' he answered.
There were several Indians in the hall. He turned to one, who stood close by, and asked him if the priest had been seen lately about the city.
The man bowed his head low and covered his face.
'The holy man has gone,' he said.
'To his hermitage in the hills, I suppose?' said the rajah.
'No, Excellency, beyond.'
'What! has Vishnugupta other haunts?'
But here Grace touched his arm; and, turning, he saw a strange, indescribable yearning in her face.
'He is dead,' she said. 'I thought so.'
The man of whom they had been inquiring bent his head silently. He had not wished that his should be the voice to speak the word of ill omen; but it had been spoken and he could not deny it.
Grace said nothing more about Vishnugupta that night, but the next day she asked Tom to find out for her how he had died. There was little or nothing to know. After his last conversation with Grace he had started, as it was supposed, for his hermitage in the hills. Some had seen, or imagined, a change in his face—a rapt expression that had awed and solemnised them; but no one had spoken to him. The morning after the day he left the city he was found in a mango-tope at a short distance from the gates, his back against a tree—dead! His face, which, those who found him said, was turned towards the sun rising, had lost the tense and feverish look which it had worn so often in his lifetime. It was irradiated with the morning light, and a stillness—an expression of satisfied longing—seemed to rest upon it. This was what Tom heard and what he told Grace. She listened with a wistful smile. 'A beautiful death,' she said softly; 'I am glad for him.'
'He was an aged man. His death was natural,' said Tom with unusual eagerness.
'Death is always natural,' answered Grace, and she added after a moment's pause: 'What we call death. Isn't it wonderful, Tom, the power words have to mislead us? We think of death with horror; it is the word, the associations. If we were to look at it calmly, as it is——'
'Death means separation, Grace,' interrupted her lover hoarsely. 'To those who go it may mean everything you imagine. To those who are left——'
He broke down, for his own words seemed to choke him. With a force that had in it indescribable pain, Mrs. Lyster's phrase, spoken after his darling's first talk with Vishnugupta, came back to him: 'On the other side.' He rose hastily and looked down upon her with a piteous effort to smile. 'But why should we discuss these dismal topics, darling?' he said. 'Try to look a little less like an angel and I will tell you what I have been doing about our marriage.'
Thereupon he plunged into a long and not altogether new recapitulation of the arrangements that were being made for that glorious event, of the congratulations that were pouring in, and of his own plans, which grew more golden every day, for the wonderful life, radiating happiness upon all who came within the sphere of its influence, that they were to lead together. Generally these talks with Grace gave him fresh hope and courage, but to-day he left her, he knew not why, with a heavy heart.