"Here in a God-forsaken old Indian backwater, I am Major Smith, an idle slacker, and a model father. Now you shall hear the whole explanation."
Mallender threw himself back in his chair, crossed his knees, and prepared to listen.
"Twenty years ago, I was a subaltern quartered in Madras, a gay young bachelor ready for any mortal thing, and at a Sergeants' Ball I made the acquaintance of Maddalena de Rosa. She was a Eurasian about sixteen, and quite distractingly pretty. I was not a bad-looking chap myself,"—he was good-looking still—"and we fell in love on the spot! I shall never forget Maddie that night, with her pink dress, her little string of mock pearls, and her wonderful eyes! We talked,—though she was not much of a talker—her eyes did the business—and we danced together most of the evening. We met again, of course. I used to go to Vepery Church on Sundays, and tell the other fellows I was out duck-shooting. Well, in the long run, her grandmother settled it! There was no question of marriage,—but it was a real case of love. I took two months' leave, we went to the Hills, and were as happy as mortals could be. Later on, I hired a little bungalow, not far from the Fort. For some time, we had no family, then came twin boys, both unexpectedly dark, and I must confess, I was a good deal startled. Soon after this, the regiment was ordered home, and poor Maddie nearly broke her heart. To tell the truth, I felt pretty bad too! but I sold my rifles and ponies fairly well, and I had come in for a bit of a legacy, so I settled some money on Maddie, and an old native relative—a soucar chap,—bought this house for her, for a song! Her people came from hereabouts, and her grandmother agreed to live with her."
Major Rochfort paused, and poured himself out yet another glass of claret, then looked across at Mallender and said:
"I hope I'm not boring you, am I?"
"On the contrary, I am much interested. What happened next?"
"I went home with the regiment, married Sophy Cosby, and left the service; five years later, I returned to shoot in Travancore, and an irresistible temptation drove me to look up Maddie. I found she had remained faithful to her first love, and never married; she was now twenty-four, and handsomer than ever. Well, on one excuse or other, I stayed month after month, writing home lies, going for short shooting trips, but always returning to Maddie. I was awfully fond of her; somehow she and the boys made me a home,—and I was extraordinarily happy. She was so simple and gentle, and refined; I'll swear Maddie had good blood, English or native, in her veins. At last, I was compelled to leave her, and three months after I got home, I had a letter to say a girl was born, and that Maddie was dead. The news came as a terrible shock, but I pulled myself together, indented the coffee estate, and I came straight back, to fix up things. By great luck, I heard of Mrs. Dixon, a sergeant's widow, who was respectable and trustworthy, but stranded, and I engaged her as nurse and housekeeper, and though she has not much education, she has done me rattling well."
"Yes, I should say so," agreed Mallender, "and of course you are seldom at Panjeverram?"
"No—worse luck! Every two or three years I come out to see my coffee, that's what I call it. I may tell you, that I don't own a bush! but I have a planter friend, and confidant, one Hector Fraser. I write from his estate, but I come here, and live with the children, I get capital snipe and teal shooting in the paddy fields and tanks hereabouts, and now and then, I go off, and do a week in the jungle—but, my heart is with my little family."
"Yes, naturally."