"Thanks," responded Mark, "but shall we not accompany Mrs. Rayner? Will that not be simplest?"—"and pleasantest," he was about to add, when he recollected his semi-hostess was by his side.
"Oh, but you cannot escape so, Mr. Cheveril," she expostulated. "Why, you haven't even paid your respects to my mother yet!"
"You are right. You cannot omit that pleasure, Cheveril," said Mr. Rayner, in a ceremonious tone. "Besides, I was in search of you. The Brigadier wants to see you; it seems you have eluded him too."
Again the arrangement of the guests did not please Miss Glanton, though she felt willing to speed the parting guest. The two gentlemen disappeared and she had to be contented to bring up the rear with the ladies.
The drive between the English habitations in Madras is often long in that city of "magnificent distances." The sudden tropical dusk had fallen on the landscape. Her Indian home looked dreary to Hester when she reached it. She felt, moreover, depressed by the events of the afternoon, and flung herself into a wicker chair in the verandah. Mrs. Glanton's exposition of her "neutral party" had jarred upon her. Major Ryde's talk was far from inspiring, and this stupid escapade, which had obliged her to be despatched home like a punished child, and over which Alfred had looked undeniably annoyed, was vexing. And as for Mark Cheveril, he might as well have still been on the Bokhara for all she had seen of him!
A suspicion of homesickness greater than she had yet felt was stealing over her. The only bright spot seemed Mrs. Fellowes' warm friendship; and she was now to have a fresh proof of it.
The maty boy came dragging a big cage-like coop of bamboo into the verandah. "Dosani Fellowes done send her jhapra for to hook up Missus," was Ramaswamy's rendering of her message.
"What?" asked Hester, laughing. The ayah came to the rescue, having already made acquaintance with the useful article then coming into vogue in the fireless bedrooms of Madras.
"Dat boy one humbug! I know all 'bout bamboo. Big chattee charcoal done put under, it make werry warm Missus clothes."
"That reminds me, ayah, I've got wet shoes and stockings, and skirts too," said Hester rising, having in her depressed mood forgotten her plight and its possible consequences.