‘Who raised that shawl just now, Dye? Tell me—I will know!’ says Mrs Dunstan.
‘Oh, mam! How can poor Dye tell? Perhaps it was the English lady come to take my little missy! Oh! when shall we go back to Mudlianah and be safe again?’
‘English fiddlesticks! Don’t talk such rubbish to me. I am up to all your tricks, but you won’t frighten me, and so you may tell the others. And I shall not go back to Mudlianah one day sooner for anything you may say or do—’
Yet Mrs Ethel does not feel quite comfortable, even though her words are so brave. But shortly afterwards her thoughts are turned into another direction, whether agreeably or otherwise, we shall see. As she is sitting at breakfast the next morning, a shouting of natives and a commotion in the courtyard warns her of a new arrival. She imagines it is her husband, and rushes to meet him. But, to her surprise and chagrin, the figure that emerges from the transit is that of Mrs Lawless looking as lovely in her travelling dress and rumpled hair as ever she did in the most extravagant costume de bal.
‘Are you surprised to see me?’ she cried, as she jumps to the ground. ‘Well, my dear, you can hardly be more surprised than I am to find myself here. But the fact is, Jack and the colonel are off to Hoolabad on business, so I thought I would take advantage of their absence to pay you a visit. And I hope you are glad to see me?’
Of course Mrs Dunstan says she is glad, and in a measure her words are true. She is glad to keep this fascinating wicked flirt under her eye, where it is impossible she can tamper with the affections of her beloved Charlie, and she is glad of her company and conversation, which is as sociable and bright as a clever little woman can make it. Mrs Lawless is full of sympathy, too, with Mrs Dunstan’s fears and the bad behaviour of her servants, and being a very good linguist, she promises to obtain all the information she can from them, and make them fully understand their mistress’s intentions in return.
‘It’s lucky I came, my dear,’ she says brightly, ‘or they might have made themselves still more offensive to you. But you have the dear colonel and Jack to thank for that, for I shouldn’t have left home if they had not done so.’
‘Ah, just as I imagined,’ thinks Ethel, ‘she would not have left him unless she had been obliged, and she has the impudence to tell me so to my very face. However, she is here, and I must make the best of it, and be thankful it has happened so.’ And so she lays herself out to please her guest in order to keep her by her as long as she possibly can.
But a few days after Cissy’s arrival she receives a letter that evidently discomposes her. She keeps on exclaiming, ‘How provoking!’ and ‘How annoying!’ as she peruses it, and folds it up with an unmistakable frown on her brow.
‘What is the matter?’ demands Ethel. ‘I hope it is not bad news.’