"Cheveril looks uncommonly well and brisk," remarked Mr. Rayner. "Puranapore must be suiting him. I expect he is already dropping that quixotic notion of proclaiming the dark spot. And upon my word, I was just thinking when I looked at him that no one could detect the touch of the tar brush! He looks quite the pucka service man already. Old Worsley's companionship must be educating! By the way, Hester, I've been thinking we might try to get hold of Worsley when he's here, I rather want to pick up acquaintance with him. I was once introduced to him at the Club, so I should like you to ask him to dinner with Cheveril, and, of course, a regulation number of picked guests. Let's fix the date, and then you can write to Puranapore! Mrs. Glanton will be capturing the pair for Christmas day, if I mistake not; the Brigadier and the Collector are old friends. Let's say the day before Christmas then. Get our lists full and leave a couple of places for the Puranapore contingent, and then you can annex them nearer the time. Yes, that will be best!"
"You always plan things out so methodically, Alfred! I suppose that comes from your legal training. As for me, I prefer to let things arrange themselves," said Hester with a smile, relieved to see that her husband had forgotten the morning's annoyance concerning which she continued to feel penitently that she was the sole cause. She decided that she would still continue to help Mrs. Fellowes in her work, but would not again obtrude these interests on her husband. With tact and tenderness the time might come when he would be disabused of the prejudice which he nursed against all Eurasians; and who would be more fit to break it down than her old friend, who, Charlie used to say, recalled to him Sir Galahad, whose "strength was as the strength of ten because his heart was pure!" Yes, it would be quite enough joy for her to have one or two good talks with Mark about things old and new, for they would have many mutual experiences to exchange in this their first season in the Eastern land.
The pink haze of the Indian sunset had faded as they drove along the leafy roads. A glorious yellow moon was rising and a soft breeze from the sea rustled among the branching palms overhead. On Hester and her husband fell the peace of the twilight as they sat hand in hand, drinking in the serenity of the scene while the landau bowled along on its easy springs.
The coachman had been told to drive at a slow pace, and just as the carriage was turning into Clive's Road, Hester's attention was attracted by an old woman who was seated on the stump of a tree by the roadside. On catching sight of the carriage, she sprang up quickly, her wrinkled face lit up by a pair of dark piercing eyes.
"Alfred, I'm sure that woman wants to speak to us," said Hester. "She is one of your clients, perhaps."
There was silence for a moment. Mr. Rayner had hurriedly withdrawn his hand from his wife's and seemed pondering.
"Yes, you're right, Hester! That woman is one of my clients. I'd better see what the creature wants, though it's past business hours."
"Poor soul, perhaps she expected to find you at the High Court. It's late for her to have travelled so far out. It's good of you, Alfred, to have pity on her old legs," said Hester, as her husband ordered the landau to pull up. He got out hurriedly without another word and went back to where the old woman stood with statuesque pose.
"How kind-hearted Alfred is to be sure!" thought his wife. "Many a young barrister wouldn't have allowed himself to be bothered like this after hours."
"Just drive on, Hester," Rayner called back. "I can walk home, it's just a step!"