CHAPTER X.
Mrs. Samptor, in her rôle of hostess, welcomed Mrs. Goldring with ceremonious effusiveness, ignoring their parting a few minutes previously. Every time the afternoon entertainment revolved to her compound, Mrs. Samptor felt the delight and importance of the occasion, and certainly she spared no pains to make it pleasant. The fact of her being country born and bred, though it had not impaired her British energy, had given her a mastery over the details of domestic life never attained among the changing Anglo-Indian society. A notable housekeeper, she was well versed in all the tricks of native servants, and got better service from them than anyone else in the station, albeit she ruled them with an iron rod. In bazaar dealing, gardening, pickle-making, and all housewifery lore she was supreme. Being childless, her whole devotion was given to her husband, a big, square-shouldered man with a handsome, good-natured face, who looked like a giant beside his tiny wife as he came forward to greet the visitors.
The only other guests as yet were the young engineer and his wife, and being recent comers, were patronised by the hostess. They sat obediently under the safe shade of a spreading peepul tree on the lawn, where stood the tea-table, which was covered by a spotless linen cloth and groaning with proofs of Mrs. Samptor's skill in the manufacture of cakes.
The Judge at once linked his arm into the jailer's and began to stroll down a shady walk.
"Talking shop, of course! Mrs. Goldring, you should really keep your husband in better order! What can a humble Superintendent of the District Jail do when the Judge leads him into temptation?" said Mrs. Samptor banteringly.
"Yes, the worst of it is, daddy promised to eat a lot of your cakes," remarked Jane bluntly, while her mother groaned inwardly.
"Did he now, dear? How sweet of the Judge! You just go after him, Jane, and pull his coat-tails and remind him of his promise. As for Harry, he won't ever touch anything between tiffin and dinner. But when he eats—he eats!" said Mrs. Samptor, with pantomimic gestures.
"And yet you tempt weaker men by your nice cakes," exclaimed the doctor, who had just arrived. "Is that quite moral?"
"Strictly so, Dr. Campbell, since I happen to know that you haven't broken your fast since early breakfast!"
"How came you to know, Mrs. Samptor? Was it one of the spirits said to inhabit peepul trees that whispered it? Really you are not canny!"