At this suggestion, the eyes of the two bystanders met, and exchanged a significant glance, and whilst Colonel Denis was stammering forth his thanks and excuses, they hastily took leave of Mrs. Creery and made their escape.
"The steamer is coming in very fast, and I think I'll go home and see that everything is ready," said the Colonel after a pause.
"Well, perhaps it would be as well," acceded the lady; "but are you really certain you would not like me to meet her, or, at any rate, to be at your bungalow to receive her?"
Once more her companion politely but firmly declined her good offices, assuring her earnestly that they were quite unnecessary, and the lady, visibly disappointed, said as she shouldered her parasol and turned away, "Perhaps you will have your journey for nothing! I should not be the least surprised if she did not come by this steamer after all! and mark my words, that ayah—that Fatima—that you would engage in spite of my advice, will give you trouble yet!"
Colonel Denis, nothing daunted, hurried down to his own bungalow, a large one facing the mainland, entirely surrounded by a deep verandah, and approached by a pathway hedged with yellow heliotrope. A good many preparations had been made for the expected young mistress; there were flowers everywhere in profusion, curious tropical ones, berries, and orchids, and ferns.
The lamps were lit in the sitting-rooms, and everything was extremely neat, and yet there was a want; there was a bare gaunt look about the drawing-room, although it had been lately furnished and Ram Sawmy, the butler of twenty years' standing, had disposed the chairs and tables in the most approved fashion—in his eyes—and put up coloured purdahs and white curtains, all for "Missy Baba." Nevertheless, the general effect was grim and comfortless. There were no nick-nacks, books, or chair-backs: there certainly were a few coarse white antimacassars, but these were gracefully arranged, according to Sawmy's taste, as coverings for the smaller tables! Colonel Denis looked about him discontentedly, moved a chair here, a vase there, then happening to catch a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he went up to it and anxiously confronted his own reflection. How wrinkled and grey he looked! he might be fifteen years older than his real age. After a few seconds he took up and opened a small album, and critically scanned a faded photograph of a gentleman in a long frock-coat, with corresponding whiskers, leaning over a balustrade, his hat and gloves carelessly disposed at his elbow—a portrait of himself taken many years previously.
"There is no use in my thinking that it's the least like me now; she could not know me again—no more than I would know her—" then closing the book with a snap, and suddenly raising his voice, he called out: "Here, Sawmy, see that dinner is ready in half an hour and have the ayah waiting. I'm going for missy."
Doubtless dinner and the ayah had a long time to wait, for it was fully an hour before the Scotia dropped anchor off Ross; she was immediately surrounded by a swarm of boats, including that of Colonel Denis, who boarded her, and descended among the crowd to the cabin, with his heart beating unusually fast.
The cabin lamps were lit, and somewhat dazzled the eyes of those who entered from the moonlight. There were but few passengers, and the most noticeable of these was Helen Denis, who sat alone at the end of a narrow table, with a bag on her lap, the inevitable waterproof over her arm, and her gaze fixed anxiously on the door leading from the companion ladder. Colonel Denis would not be disappointed; his daughter had fulfilled the promise of her youth, and was a very pretty girl. She was slight and fair, with regular features and quantities of light brown hair—hair that twenty years ago was called fair, before golden and canary-coloured locks came to put it out of fashion. Her eyes were grey—or blue—colour rather uncertain; but one thing was beyond all dispute, they were beautiful eyes! As for her complexion, it was extremely pale at present, and her very lips were white; but this was due to her agitation, to her awe and wonder and fear, to her anxiety to know which of the many strange faces that came crowding into the cabin was the one that would welcome her, and be familiar to her, and dear to her as long as she lived? She sat quite still, with throbbing heart, surveying each new-comer with anxious expectation. As Colonel Denis entered she half rose, and looked at him appealingly.