"Now, no impertinence! Understand, once for all, I won't have Mallender hanging about, so don't you go making up to him."
Barbie became scarlet, and flung her boot across the room with unnecessary violence.
"Keep your temper, Barbara! I won't allow you to speak to him, or encourage him."—In Mrs. Miller's bosom, there rankled a sharp and spiteful memory of the young man's indifference, and neglect.—"He fancies himself no end, and looks down on all Madras spins, and I hear from good authority he is a regular bad lot; so see that you give him a wide berth, or I'll know the reason why. As long as you are under my roof, you must obey my wishes. When you have a house of your own, you can please yourself. You'd better get the ayah to bandage your foot, and put on one of your father's slippers. You must be quick and change and come out to breakfast, as James is here."
CHAPTER XI
One afternoon, after a couple of hours' severe polo practice, Mallender returned home to bathe, and change; and subsequently feeling considerably refreshed, sauntered out to have a smoke. In the immediate neighbourhood of his tent was an ancient pleasure-ground, which doubtless had been laid out in the days of Jane Austen when ladies took exercise and "walked in the shrubbery." Behold a shrubbery with tropical trees, thick undergrowth, a wild tangle of shrubs and creepers, splashed with blossom; and blazing masses of oleanders, pomegranates and variegated crotons, intersected by overgrown, narrow walks. In an open space was a large half-empty, chunam tank, and one or two stone benches. Here Mallender sat down, and lit a cigar. He seldom now had a moment to himself, his days were a wild rush from one function to another. Undoubtedly he was having a very jolly visit, but he must take a pull. He had been nearly a month at Hooper's Gardens, and it was a case of "As you were." His correspondents Jaffer and Co. seemed to be of the same mind as the French cynic, who remarked that "when making promises to people, it was always wise to be exceedingly vague."
He had engagements for weeks ahead, and if nothing turned up meanwhile, had agreed to accompany his relatives to the Hills. He liked them both immensely, and Nancy too. There were lots of good fellows in the polo teams, and the Fort; he was really having the time of his life! All the same, he had not come out to take part in this giddy round. When he began to talk of his enterprise to his cousin, it was odd how sharply he changed the subject; but whatever happened, he could not allow Fred to stand in his way! These reflections were suddenly interrupted by an audible, half-strangled sob; Mallender looked about him. At first he had an idea that the sound came from the mysterious enclosure over the wall; possibly the Prince had been chastising one of his women-folk. It was rather a weird establishment; generally silent as death. At times, he caught the sound of squealing horses, men's sonorous authoritative voices, and occasionally, at a very late hour, the strains of a zitar were wafted above the intervening neem and pagoda trees. Another loud heart-shaking sob! It proceeded from this side of the boundary, and his own immediate vicinity; Mallender rose quickly, and turning into a narrow walk, half choked by masses of shrubs, discovered a girl sitting on a stone seat, her head bowed, her face buried in her hands—evidently in an agony of grief. Hearing his footsteps, she started and looked up, and he found himself face to face with Miss Sim. And, oh what a haggard, tear-stained, ghastly countenance!
"What is the matter?" he asked brusquely.
She choked, and made no reply, but merely continued to stare at him stupidly. He noticed, that beside her on the seat lay a small suspicious looking bottle, at which following his glance, she made a frantic grab.
"Come, Miss Sim," he resumed, now sitting down beside her, "let me hear all about it,—is it something so very bad?"