“James is frantic,” she resumed. “I have never seen him in such a condition; he cannot eat, he cannot rest, he paces up and down the dining-room like some caged animal. There has never been a scandal or a court martial in the regiment—at least, not within the memory of man—and he takes this affair most fearfully to heart. He says it will be in all the papers at home, and that if he had done the deed himself he could not feel the disgrace more acutely. Oh, if I had only known that your brother wanted a loan I’d have lent him the money without hesitation. He was always one of my best boys—and I do try to help them. If he had just given me one little hint—and you, my dear?” turning to me.
“I knew nothing, dreamt of nothing, till the night before last, when I found Ronnie with a revolver in his hand.” Here I broke down and sobbed in her arms.
When I had somewhat recovered and was able to speak more coherently, I told my friend the story of Balthasar’s revenge and perfidy.
“Oh, you poor, poor darling!” she cried. “How dared he? I heard that you had been seen with him in his car, but did not believe it; and so you sacrificed yourself to Balthasar’s vanity and malice, and all for nothing. Well now,” drying her own tears, “I shall come and see you again, of course, and we will lay our heads together and make plans. If there is anyone I can write to, any possible thing that I can do, you have only to send me a line by one of Mrs. Lakin’s chuprassies. Now I am afraid, dear, it is getting late and I must go.”
Mrs. Mills, Zora, the Greys, and various other friends came to see me. Their visits were most kindly meant, but undeniably painful for them and for me. It was not as if I had lost Ronnie by death; I had been separated from him by disgrace, and their condolences were vague and embarrassing.
How I longed to hide myself and be alone, although Mrs. Lakin’s company was never unwelcome. Her large heart overflowed with tactful human kindness, and I was treated as something between a spoilt child and a pampered invalid, and oh, the solid comfort of her ménage! What well-oiled wheels in all departments; what soft-footed servants, what cream, eggs, and butter (Mrs. Lakin had her own cows and poultry); but in these days I could not eat, and supported existence on tea and toast.
Every evening about sundown my friend took me for long drives into the country; the boulder-strewn plains looked soft and beautiful in the moonlight, and as we bowled along behind the old chestnut—a surprisingly free goer—she told me tales of former days, on purpose, no doubt, to keep my thoughts from dwelling—as they did—on the one subject. She also related the history of scandals, social convulsions, courts martial and civil trials, beside which Ronnie’s iniquities were pale and insignificant. The kind woman exerted herself in this manner in order to cheer me and give my future a less hopeless outlook.
Colonel Lakin was also active on my behalf. He got rid of our ponies and cart, Ronnie’s guns and saddlery, all for a good price; and Zora’s eldest brother bought my dear Tommy Atkins and promised him a happy home.
On several occasions I had visited Ronnie, and found him more like his normal self and less depressed.
“Now that I have no anxieties and nothing to hide, I feel better and I can sleep,” he announced. “Arkwright tells me that I have a capital chap as my advocate, and I must say the fellows in the regiment have been extraordinarily forbearing and staunch. Grimes sends down the papers, Waller brought me a box of the best Havana cigars, and I go for a drive every evening when there’s no one about. The one thing that I cannot stand is the sentry always in evidence. I believe the court martial will soon assemble now. They are bringing members from Bellary, Poona and Bangalore, and I don’t suppose it will last longer than a couple of days. Is it not extraordinary that I’ve had neither letter nor cheque from Uncle Horace?”