“Dear Anna, thank Heaven I am exceptional in having nothing to confide,” she retorted with a sort of perky significance.
How tired I felt of them all, and how disappointed! They were full of petty malice and empty bitterness and were making me just the same. I already felt a blight on the joy that Africa had waked in me. As day by day I had sped across the wide, rolling plains and rivers, in the generous sunshine, I had seemed to feel my soul expand and be set free from the littlenesses of life. Now here, right up in the heart of the wide continent where I had dreamed of finding simple-hearted people living happy, sincere lives—here were the petty things of life once more—empty malice, small talk, and aching hearts caused by a lack of poudre de riz! And not a sign of Lobengula and his six wives!
I finished my tomato sandwiches and sighed for my disillusionment. Mrs Skeffington-Smythe spoke me kindly:
“My poor child! you must be terribly warm in your heavy coat. Why don’t you take it off?”
“Yes, I think I really must,” I said, glad of a reason to rise and depart. “I am so very tired, Judy. I hope you will forgive me if I ask to go to bed at once.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, and they all chorused “Of course,” and began to put on their wraps to go. “It was horrid of us to come in so soon,” they said, “but we simply had to welcome you. It is sweet having some one new; it is so sinfully dull up here. Of course, knowing that you had arrived so recently from home, we couldn’t resist coming straight away. Do forgive us. Goodnight. Do rest. You look positively haggard with fatigue.”
That was the last poisoned arrow they flung at me. But I received it heroically, for I observed that Judy and Mrs Valetta, who still remained seated, had discarded their languor and weariness for a moment and were sharing a malicious smile. I should have liked to take down one of the assegais from the wall to them, but I had to content myself with saying dryly:
“It is really too charming of you all to welcome me so warmly!”
Mrs Valetta continued to smile in her sleep, but Judy resumed her languor like a wrap as the door closed on the others.
“Ah! we all live in each others’ houses up here—and know each others’ secrets. You will get used to this happy state of things if you mean to stay long, Deirdre.”