Mr. Rayner had not, as Hester supposed, been accompanied by his guest on his drive. Some letters had reached Mark which required immediate reply, and as he was leaving for Puranapore after breakfast, he decided he must forego the tennis-party in question, and devote himself to his correspondence. He was now seated in a room adjoining the library which his host had put at his disposal. Mr. Rayner was meanwhile on his way back from the tennis-party, not in the best of tempers, for his sworn enemy, the sun, was now high in the heavens and its rays were beating fiercely on his mail-phaeton.
He was driving himself, and as he swept into Clive's Road he perceived in the shade of the hedge a waiting figure whom he recognised with anything but satisfaction, to judge from his quick frown.
"Leila Baltus, by jove! So she's turned up again,—worse luck! Thought she'd taken herself off to Calcutta for good! She's evidently lying in wait for me too! Better interview her here than nearer the house," he muttered to himself, as he threw the reins to the syce and leapt to the ground, saying he would walk the rest of the way, and directing that the phaeton should be taken to the stables.
"She's evidently bound for No. 7, or she wouldn't be so far from Vepery. Fortunate that I've waylaid the creature; she might have tackled Hester and introduced herself as a former acquaintance of mine! What a close shave I've had! Well, I'm in for a tussle now!"
His angry frown was replaced by a studied smile as he hurried forward to meet the same girl who had accosted Mark at Mr. Morpeth's gate. She was now carefully attired in a spotless white muslin dress and a gay hat with a wealth of flowers.
Mr. Rayner lifted his sun-topee.
"Good morning, Leila! You're far from home! Didn't know you were in these parts at all—thought you had gone to Calcutta to keep house for your brother!"
The girl's face was lit up by smiles. "No," she answered. "I'm here again in that hole Vepery. Claud took a wife and don't want me. But I didn't know you were back from England, Alf, till two nights ago, when I see you and another gent in that smart mail-phaeton. Oh my, what a toff you did look! All the same, you oughtn't to turn your back on old friends. You might have looked me and mother up. She will be awfulee glad to see you. You used to enjoy a bit supper with us. You'll mind that prawn curry of mother's, don't you, now?" said the girl, with an insinuating smile.
Alfred Rayner stood hesitating. Was it possible the girl did not know that he was now a married man, and had no intention of continuing the acquaintance of his bachelor days or of eating prawn curry in Vepery again? How bitterly he repented those days of his "griffinage!" when he had been fool enough in idle hours to be fêted and flattered by the Baltus household and other undesirable associates! The memory rankled, and was indeed the chief source of his bitterness against the whole Eurasian class. And with this pretty Leila he had been unwise enough to be betrayed into a flirtation. He winced to recall it. Ever since his return with his bride he had been congratulating himself that Leila Baltus was no longer a denizen of Vepery, and would not cross his path again. Yet there she was, glancing at him with encouraging eyes and an anxious smile. What would she say when she learnt that only a few yards distant a beautiful English wife awaited him? It was an awkward dilemma. No wonder the young man felt the need of choosing his words carefully.
"The truth is," he began slowly, "I'm too busy a man now to avail myself of the pleasures of bachelorhood, Miss Baltus. Besides, the distance between Nungumbaukum and Vepery is great; so you must excuse me. Salaams to your mother, forgive my hurrying off—haven't even had my tub yet!" Lifting his sun-topee he was about to beat a dignified retreat.