The guest was made warmly welcome by "the Miss," or Mrs. Dixon, who assured him, that "all her born days she loved the Army!"
"Sure, an' wasn't I reared in the service, and married into the Roifles," she announced in a high querulous key, "and it does me heart good, to be in the same house with two fine soldiers, like the Major, and yourself."
As for the Smiths, all three had fastened their affections upon "Jeffie" as they called him; he played tennis with the boys, and taught them to box, and suffered Mota to take photographs, and learn to print them. Extravagant was her pride when she produced a picture of her father, with white eyes, and a perfectly black face!
Mallender had written to Fanny, and to Mrs. Villars, but so far had received no reply. And with grief it must be confessed, that for the first time in their married life, Fred and Fanny had had "a few words," and these "words" were on the subject of Geoffrey. In answer to his wife's tearful pleadings, Colonel Tallboys, bubbling over with wrath replied:
"Fanny, I forbid you to correspond with that fellow, or to receive his letters; the pinch of indifference, and some real hardship, will soon bring the young idiot to his senses! I won't have him pitied, and coddled. Now, Fan, you need not argue. I won't listen to excuses. After all, he is my relation—not yours. When did I ever try to come between you, and the Bonds?"
This argument was unanswerable, and Fan, who knew that her husband could be very firm, and "bossy" on occasions, said no more.
As for Lena Villars, she had done with the young man; his unceremonious escape, without even a parting word, had wounded her vanity too deeply. She, who had hitherto believed that no man (and she chose) could resist her! Added to this, was the wild tale she had heard from Colonel Tallboys. The lady listened to his grievance with rapt and touching attention. So this rash obstinate boy was practically penniless, and had flung himself into a pursuit, that could only overtake derision, and ruin. He was a charming fellow, when he was sane, and danced like an angel, but she had no wish to set eyes on him again,—nor would she ever forget him.
Mrs. Tallboys dutifully bowed to her lord's commands, and wrote no letter, but she sent Geoffrey a little registered parcel, containing her treasured talisman—a curious old Greek coin with a hole in it. When Mallender unpacked the gift, he said to himself with a broad smile:
"Surely, between Sawmy's thumbs, and this talisman, I am bound to succeed!"
He had interviewed Shumilal, and overwhelmed him with reproaches,—these ran as lightly off the Agent, as if he were the proverbial duck!—and for his part, he silenced his client with clamorous condolences, sympathy, excuses, and dazzling promises of eventual triumph.