“Oh, yes, he is very pleasant,” the Major said dryly, in a tone that seemed to express that Forster's power of making himself pleasant was by no means a recommendation in his eyes.
But Captain Forster had apparently no idea whatever that his society could be anything but welcome, and called the next day after luncheon.
“I have been leaving my pasteboard at all the residents,” he said; “not a very large circle. Of course, I knew Mrs. Rintoul at Delhi, as well as Mrs. Doolan. I did not know any of the others. They seem pleasant people.”
“They are very pleasant,” Isobel said.
“I left one for a man named Bathurst. He was out. Is that the Bathurst, Major Hannay, who was in a line regiment—I forget its number—and left very suddenly in the middle of the fighting in the Punjaub?”
“Yes; I believe Bathurst was in the army about that time,” the Major said; “but I don't know anything about the circumstances of his leaving.”
Had Captain Forster known the Major better he would have been aware that what he meant to say was that he did not wish to know, but he did not detect the inflection of his voice, and went on—“They say he showed the white feather. If it is the same man, I was at school with him, and unless he has improved since then, I am sure I have no wish to renew his acquaintance.”
“I like him very much,” the Major said shortly; “he is great friends with Dr. Wade, who has the very highest opinion of him, and I believe he is generally considered to be one of the most rising young officers of his grade.”
“Oh, I have nothing to say against him,” Captain Forster said; “but he was a poor creature at school, and I do not think that there was any love lost between us. Did you know him before you came here?”
“I only met him at the last races in Cawnpore,” the Major said; “he was stopping with the Doctor.”