CHAPTER XII
The hot weather had arrived, the punctual brain-fever bird made his unwelcome appearance, and a much-diminished company prepared to leave Hooper's Gardens, for the Blue Mountains. Colonel Tallboys, who had obtained sixty days' leave (with power to add to their number), his wife, her niece, and child, Mrs. Villars, her maid, and Geoffrey Mallender. Urgent private business connected with cotton, had summoned unwilling Sir William to Bombay, and the Wylies were reluctantly compelled to bring their long "week-end" to a close.
"Hooper's Hotel" was a hostelry entirely after their own hearts; a gracious easy hostess, an admirably run establishment, capital ponies to ride, gay entertainments, and lots of bridge. They were unaffectedly sorry to part with "the management," and Mrs. Wylie threw out many hints, as to how much she longed to visit the celebrated Neilgherries, and talked wistfully of "the chance of a lifetime!" But for once, Fanny Tallboys did not "rise." Then her guest—a woman of invincible nerve, and resolution—came to her sitting-room one morning, and said, with her most persuasive smile:
"Dearest and kindest of friends! I have a great, great, an enormous favour to ask. Alas! our plans for Ceylon have fallen through. We were going to Newara Eliya to the Gordon Walkers, but I heard to-day, that she is ill, and too indisposed to receive us. So will you, like the angel you are, have us for a little, little, tiny visit in Ooty? Darling Cecil wants a change from this steaming, relaxing place—I've been quite anxious about him the last week, and you know our abhorrence of hotels, with their filthy rooms, and disgusting food."
Poor Mrs. Tallboys, feeling exceedingly guilty and uncomfortable, was obliged to tell the piteous pleading lady, that she was really too sorry, but that every corner in "Woodford" had its allotted tenant.
"Tents?" suggested the petitioner, with ruthless pertinacity. "I should simply adore a tent!"
Unfortunately tents were out of the question at that season in the Hills, and so this pair of clever "sponges" and adventurers were compelled to seek for other quarters, and took their departure, with perfunctory thanks, and an air of unpardonable injury; and it is a regrettable fact, that they subsequently spoke of their hosts of "Hooper's Gardens," with patronage and derision, as "those absurd people, the Tallboys, and their dreadful menagerie!"
The weather had suddenly become several degrees warmer, and the party travelled by night, arriving in the early morning at Mettapollium, not far from the foot of the towering ghâts; here after chotah-hazri they entered the mountain railway, that climbed, and wound, and climbed again, till it dragged itself up to Coonoor—which seemed to be awaiting it, as it lay hanging over the edge of the great plateau—unquestionably one of the most wooded, beflowered, and picturesque, Hill stations in Hindustan, and the home of not a few retired Anglo-Indians. Here, the Tallboys decided to halt for a day or two, whilst "Woodford" was prepared for their reception.
Instead of taking the mountain railway, Mrs. Brander had elected to ride up the old ghât, on her big black waler, Bonny; and Mallender promptly volunteered to be her escort. He liked Nancy, she was the best of company, always so cheerful, good-natured, and ready to enjoy everything that came in her way; one of those rare people, who go through life with a happy and contented heart.