Hester did not like her husband throwing the blame on Mark, yet she could not help feeling that her old friend might have remembered how much it would mean to her to see a home face among the new acquaintances who were to gather round their board. Mr. Rayner seemed anxious to ignore the disappointment.
"I can easily provide substitutes," he remarked airily, "who will be proud to sit at my table." But Hester felt that this artificial occasion would only remind her sorrowfully of the happy gatherings of Pinkthorpe days; the excitement of decorating the village church, the frosty sunsets, the joys of holly and misletoe, and the festive air which seemed to pervade everything.
Christmas Eve came round. She had already dressed for dinner, wearing, at her husband's request, her wedding dress, with beautiful, white camellias at her waist and on her fair wavy hair.
"Oh, ma'm, how booful you looking," said her ayah, with many ejaculations of admiration; and she called Rosie to have a peep at the beautiful Dosani.
Hester had just fastened her gold cross with its tiny chain on her neck when her husband entered the room.
"How fortunate I've remembered, Hester! I've just excavated your diamonds from my safe. I believe you wanted to give them a premature burial there! Not so shall you treat my loving gifts, my love! Off with that trumpery cross and let me see my gems sparkling on your beautiful neck!"
Hester tried hard to conceal the disappointment she felt at having to wear the ostentatious jewel, but she saw it was inevitable, though the ayah, on the pretext of arranging the folds of her dress, whispered to her: "Missus wear cross—that plentee luckee jewel!"
The change, however, was effected, though Hester averted her eyes from the mirror that she might not behold herself in the resplendent gem, though she felt somewhat rewarded for her self-sacrifice by her husband's gratification.
The long elaborate dinner seemed to drag endlessly, and it was apparent to Hester that one or two of the guests looked bored. After the ladies returned to the drawing-room, the "rankest" lady, whom the host had taken into dinner, said to her with a pronounced yawn:
"I didn't like to ask your husband—but my dear Mrs. Rayner, what became of the Collector of Puranapore? I understood he was to be your guest this evening?"