The afternoon was fine, so after a preliminary saddling-up, the whole party filed off, apparently in high spirits. The roads in one direction were always sound, while by ascending slightly one of the spurs of the range a grand view was always obtainable.
Rosamond rode foremost, as she generally did, by right of the exceptional walking of Fergus. She was accompanied by Forbes, whose hackney had been selected after great research, his friends averred, in order that he might rank as the next fastest pacer in those parts. Argyll and Wilfred brought up the rear, occasionally joining company with Annabel and Fred Churbett. The Major and Beatrice went next behind the leaders. The couples preserved the order in which they set out, with the exception of the inroad upon Fred and Annabel’s eager colloquies, which were not deeply sentimental. That amiable personage complained that no one scrupled to break in upon his tête-à-têtes. He ‘thought he should have to grow a moustache and call some one out, in order to inspire respect.’
Major Glendinning had made frequent visits to Warbrok, and familiar intercourse having naturally resulted from his intimacy with their friends at Benmohr, the family had come to look upon him as one of their particular set. Of a nature constitutionally reserved, and more specially self-contained from long residence as a military autocrat in one of the provinces of Northern India, he had read and thought more deeply than men of his class are apt to do. In proportion, therefore, to his general reticence was his satisfaction in unlocking his stores of experience when he met with congenial minds.
A few chance questions on the part of Beatrice Effingham, after his first introduction to the family, had discovered to him that she was better informed as to the administration of Northern India than most people. Hence grew up between them a common ground of interest in which he could expatiate and explain. And his listener was never tired of hearing from an eye-witness and an actor the true story of the splendours and tragedies of that historic land.
The real reason of this research, apart from the hunger for literary pabulum, which at all times possessed Beatrice, was an affectionate interest in the life of an uncle, who, after entering upon a brilliant career, had perished through the treachery of a native Rajah. His adventures had fascinated the romantic girl from early childhood; hence she had loved to verify every detail of the circumstances under which the star of the ill-fated Raymond Effingham had faded into darkness.
By those indescribable degrees of advance, of which the heart can note the progress, but rarely the first approach, a friendship between the Major and the thoughtful girl became so apparent as to be the subject of jesting remark. When, therefore, he had announced his intention of settling in the neighbourhood, a thrill of unusual force invaded the calm pulses of Beatrice Effingham. Had his retirement from the service, from the profession he loved so well, some reason in which her future was concerned? If so, if he settled down on one of the adjoining properties, could any union be more consonant with her every feeling, taste, and aspirations than with one whom, in every way, she could so fully respect and admire, whose deeds in that wonderland of her fancies were written on the records of his country’s fame? It was a dream too bright for reality. And though it would occasionally disturb the even tenor of Beatrice’s hours in the library, her well-regulated mind refused to dwell upon possibilities as yet unsanctioned.
When, therefore, Major Glendinning promptly availed himself of the opportunity afforded by the ride to the lake to constitute himself her escort; when, after a few commonplace observations, she observed that his countenance, though more grave than was usual in her presence, had yet an expression of fixed resolve, an indefinable feeling of expectation, almost amounting to dread, took possession of her, and it was with a beating heart and changing cheek that she listened.
‘I take advantage of this opportunity, Miss Beatrice, to say the words which must be said before we part.’
‘Part!’ said the girl, shaking in every limb, though she bravely struggled against her emotions and tried to impart firmness to her voice. ‘Then you are going to leave us for India? Have you been ordered back suddenly?’