"Oh, Geff, Daddy——" then she paused, as her eyes met Mrs. Rochfort's basilisk gaze.
"Run in, Mota, run in, go to Mrs. Dixon. This lady has come from England, to see your father."
Almost before Mallender completed the sentence, the child had darted back to the house, and rushed into her father's den, gasping out:
"Oh, Dad, Dad, only think! a lady has come from England to see you!"
Major Rochfort with a violent gesture motioned the messenger to leave him. He looked so alarmingly unlike himself, so frowning, and forbidding, that for the first time in her life Mota felt a little cowed, and ran to her brothers for explanation, and consolation.
Sophy was bringing the sentence herself—so be it! The culprit rose unsteadily, as Mallender ushered in his wife—a figure of frozen dignity—closed the door, and subsequently fought off, and held at bay, the united curiosity of the family, and Mrs. Dixon.
For nearly an hour Mallender paced the moonlit compound, conferring with his thoughts. He seemed to be always entangled in other people's affairs, and yet never got to grips with his own. First, there was stranded Miss Sim; now, the unmasked Rochfort. Well, at any rate as far as lay in his power, he had played the game, and done his best for them both. He felt a little bitter on the subject of his Cousin Fred, who had taken no notice of his letters—although Fan had declared that his hot temper soon subsided. He had now been five long weeks at Panjeverram, surely this was ample time for the cooling of Freddy's wrath! Yes, but how could he know, that the embers of his cousin's anger were stoked and kept aflame by the beautiful Lena.
For a woman of a cold lymphatic temperament, she had been unusually roused—and what an escape was hers! Imagine marrying a boy fourteen years her junior, who was a pauper! In all his complaints, and grievances, she warmly sympathised with Colonel Fred; to her, he confided his disappointment, and eagerly accepted her flattering sympathy—for the topic of Geoffrey was one he never ventured to discuss with Fan or Nancy. Also, he was secretly vexed, that the boy having thrown off his leading-strings, had suffered no appropriate punishment!
A friend lately "up" from Madras, had remarked:
"By the way, I saw that young fellow, your cousin, one evening on the Marina in a fine new motor."