The conversation between Sanders and Davies was very brief and decidedly grave. Sanders had at first assumed the light air of superiority of the old cadet toward the plebe, and, to head off questioning, plunged into that species of deprecatory and officious advice which is generally prefaced by, "Now, my dear boy, let me as a friend," etc., etc. Like the chaplain's wife, Sanders started with the best intentions, and just as she had excited Mira's resentment so had Sanders aroused Davies's wrath.
"Stop right there, Sanders, and say nothing about friendship until you explain that scene. Where is the packet you were asked to deliver to my wife?"
"I haven't it. I wouldn't touch it. You don't suppose I'd be a party to such a thing. The man was an ass to ask me, and I told him so."
"He doubtless reasoned that a man who could accompany the wife of a brother officer to a place of such miscellaneous character as Cresswell's would not be above carrying secretly to her that which he dare not send openly."
"He had no right to judge by it, Davies! Lots of ladies go there,—and Mrs. Stone matronized us."
"No ladies of our regiment have ever gone there, Sanders, until you accompanied my wife,—an inexperienced and ignorant child. What Mrs. Stone or her associates may have seen fit to do is no concern of mine. You know and I know that women like Mrs. Cranston, like Mrs. Truman, like Mrs. Leonard or Mrs. Wright would not go there under any circumstances, and the fact that a party of women from the fort was in one room simply served to attract a party of—very different women to the next."
"Then I'll bust Cresswell's head for him inside of twenty-four hours," exclaimed Sanders. "The idea of his daring to allow such people in there at such a time!"
"The idea of your not standing my friend—you, the only fellow-graduate of my regiment here at the post—and preventing my wife's being taken there at any time. Think of that, Sanders."
"Why, damn it, Parson, don't be so brutally unjust. I supposed if you cared a rap you'd have stopped it before."
"Stopped it before? Why, Sanders, what are you saying? You don't mean she—my wife—had been there before?" And all the indignation had gone from Davies's face. It was now white, almost awe-stricken.