CHAPTER XXXIII
IT was the night of the Club ball, the first and chief event of the Durban season, and all the fashionable world was busily pranking itself for the occasion.
Bramham had dressed early, for he had been elected by Mrs. Portal to be one of the wild-geese who were to escort her house-party to the Town Hall. Just as he was choosing some cigars for the night at the dining-room table, Carson's telegram arrived. He whistled, meditating upon it for a while.
"Well, this Carson!" he called out to Abinger, who was in a neighbouring room, also arraying himself for the festival. "Wants me to meet him at the station, I thank you!"
"Meet him! What for? He ought to get a maid!"
"Well, I can't do it, anyway," said Bramham, and sitting down, hastily scribbled a note, saying that he could not possibly wait on account of his engagement with Mrs. Portal, but suggesting that Carson, on arrival, should dress and come down to the Town Hall. He left this note on the table, with instructions to the boys to see that Carson got it as soon as he arrived; then jumping into his carriage, he set off for the Portals' house.
On his way up he had an impulse to call at the Caprons', to see what arrangements Mrs. Capron had made for going to the ball. He was aware that Nick had been away for a week, and was not in the way of returning yet a while. A man called Lessing had pitched a camp out beyond Inanda, to try some experiments in coursing with six pedigree dogs he had imported from home, and several other men had joined him, to see the sport and incidentally get a little late fishing. Bramham had received a note from Lessing that morning, asking him to come out for a few days before they broke camp, and mentioning that he should not be in for the ball, because Capron, having put in a week's steady drinking without anyone particularly noticing the fact, was now in the uproarious stage and couldn't possibly be left. Whether Mrs. Capron was aware of the state of affairs Bramham did not know, but he thought that a friendly thing to do would be to find out if she had arranged for an escort, and, if not, to offer to call for her with Mrs. Portal's party.
At the sound of the carriage she came out into her verandah, looking supremely lovely, as white-skinned, red-haired women have a way of doing in a black setting.
"I thought I'd just look in to make sure that you were coming, Mrs. Capron," said Bram, his eyes shining with the delight and excitement he always felt at the sight of a pretty woman.
"Yes, I'm coming, though Nick isn't," she said gaily. "He is out at George Lessing's encampment, you know. I've lent my carriage to Mrs. Portal for some of her party, but Mrs. Lace is going to call for me—she will be here any moment now."