Having no mind to join the festive gathering again, Rayner crept back to the outer edges of the supper tables, and seeing a magnum of champagne, which he decided was the best recipe for steadying his nerves, he partook eagerly. He then took his stand again in the wide aisle and scanned the ballroom, which was now rapidly emptying. The Governor and his party had retired, though various guests still lingered, but the room was beginning to wear the air of "a banquet-hall deserted."
Rayner glanced round furtively for his wife, and presently descried Mark Cheveril in earnest conversation with another civilian.
"So far good," he muttered, "he at least is not taking advantage of my absence to enjoy himself with this wife of mine whom Mr. Worsley places on such a pedestal!"
But after he had gazed out from his corner a little longer, he perceived a combination which aroused his anger.
On one of the sofas placed about for tired guests not far from where Mark stood, sat Hester, and by her side, his own now declared enemy, the Collector of Puranapore. Mr. Worsley was smiling as he talked, and his conversation was evidently pleasing, judging from Hester's look of interest and animation. The topic was, in fact, reminiscences of her uncle, who had been Felix Worsley's particular friend at Oxford.
Striding rapidly across the room, Rayner laid his hand on his wife's arm, saying sharply:
"Come along, Mrs. Rayner, our carriage stops the way."
Hardly allowing her time even to bow a good-night to her companion, and himself ignoring his presence, he hurried her away, keeping his hold on her arm till she reached the door of the cloak-room.
"Alfred, why were you so rude?" asked Hester in dismay. "Do you know it was Mr. Worsley, whom you wanted so much to meet, that I was talking to?"
"I knew it only too well, madam! Therefore it was I chivied you off as I did. Sorry I interrupted what seemed, judging from your appearance, a fascinating tête-à-tête, but a man must use his discretion where his own wife is concerned! Don't be in any hurry, I've got to summon the carriage yet," he called, as Hester, dumb with shame and vexation, was disappearing into the cloak-room. "I'll send and let you know when Mrs. Rayner's carriage stops the way!" Then he added to himself: "Meanwhile I want a little more champagne to steady my nerves after all this worry."