"And I tell you again there is no harm in our friendship, and as long as my conscience is clear the friendship will continue."
"You know your husband hates him," said Mrs. Greaves bluntly, "so your conscience can't be completely clear."
The flush died away from Rafella's cheeks; she twisted her fingers together, and her voice shook as she answered defiantly: "He should be the last person to misjudge me, or to put a wrong construction on my friendships." Mrs. Greaves wished to goodness the girl would break down and cry, then she might be more easy to manage. But there she stood, pale and pig-headed, so silly, and the other woman longed to shake her. Of course the little fool was flattered by the man's attentions, fatally attracted by his arts and wiles, and with a husband like Coventry, who had always been hard on the frailties of women, intolerant even of harmless flirtation, there was bound to be serious trouble sooner or later. What was to be done!
Mrs. Greaves struggled to keep her temper. "Well, my dear," she urged gently, "all I can say is that you'd better be careful. Mr. Kennard's friendships with other men's wives have never yet been regarded as blameless! And I ask you--is it worth the risk of a row with your husband? Wouldn't it be wiser to quarrel with Mr. Kennard than with the man you must live with for the rest of your life?"
Even Rafella could hardly deny the plain common sense of this pleading. She evaded the question, repeated that she had done nothing unworthy, and said that if George could not trust her----
"Oh, good heavens!" Mrs. Greaves broke in wearily. "Of course George trusts you. But he can't bear you to be talked about, and you ought to consider his feelings. Anyone can see you are making him jealous. Those women in the club this evening were thirsting for him to come in and find you sitting alone with Mr. Kennard."
"India is a wicked place!" cried Rafella; "full of gossips and scandalmongers and evil-minded people. Why can't they leave one alone?"
"My good girl, India is no worse than any other part of the globe that is inhabited by human beings," argued Mrs. Greaves; "but out here we are all necessarily thrown a great deal together, and women of our class associate with men much more than is usual or possible for us to do at home. If we are sensible it does us and the men no manner of harm, rather the reverse. If we are fools it may turn our heads, and then, of course, the men will amuse themselves accordingly."
"My head is not turned," said Rafella, like a child; and with an effort Mrs. Greaves forbore to contradict her. It was clear that nothing further could be said at present without endangering their friendship, which for Rafella's sake was not to be desired.
"Well, don't let us argue about it any more. We'll drop the subject. And do stay and dine with us, as your husband is out to-night and you're alone." "No, thank you," refused Rafella with stiff politeness; and she went to the door.