A reaction of relief met the twinkle, in Ally’s facile nature. “By Jove! I was drunk!” he said, laughing, as he dropped into a chair by the Major’s side. “My mouth feels like a sponge to-day. Did I gas much? I owe Mrs. Churton an apology for such an exhibition in her house.”
“You were a bit on. Nothing to hurt—unless your pony suffered! You went down that hill like greased lightning. I had no idea the brute had it in him—Polo knocks their feet about as a rule.”
“Snapshot took me home—I certainly didn’t take him. By the way, have you heard anything of any native trouble?”
“Yes, there was a scare, I believe. Gregory sent up a message that we must be ready to turn out, in the middle of the night, and rode to China Town afterwards. Nothing came of it, I presume—at least we have heard nothing more.”
“My wife got wind of it. I haven’t seen the Administrator.” Ally’s eyes were still troubled for all the easy assurance of the Major’s tone.
“Of course there may be a row brewing at China Town,” he said. “Even going on. We shan’t hear till it’s over, according to Mr. Gregory’s usual methods. I think myself it was a false alarm.”
“There’s a telephone from the barracks to Burton’s house, isn’t there?” said Ally. “They may have heard something up at Maitso.”
“All right, I’ll ask Di.” The Major rung up and curtly demanded to be connected with his house. After the usual trying delay Ally heard him say, “Oh, that you, Di?” and waited breathlessly.
“No,” he remarked after a few brief questions and imaginable answers. “No news,—Di,” his mouth was again at the tube—“Lewin is here. All the better for last night’s temperance meeting! What?—Oh, Di wants you to come and lunch.”
Now was Ally’s good angel to fail him. He thought of the limp feeling that self-abasement gave him, and of how it would certainly season his luncheon with Chum’s uncomplaining face opposite. He thought also, with a sense of injury, that she took his one excess very seriously, and that Churton himself made light of it. If he went to Maitso Diana would by no means have a chastening and depressing influence. Hang it! he had eaten humble pie enough for one morning, and been wretched into the bargain. No doubt he should have another bad quarter of an hour with Gregory; he would not be miserable from choice.