Star of India by Alice Perrin (best e book reader .TXT) 📕

of the air, Stella began to think more coherently, to think of all she would have told Philip had he been beside her asking for her confidence, anxious to know all that had befallen her since their parting at Rassih. Then, though she had thought he was going out of her life, the distress and the terror had been leavened by the conviction that he loved her. This time he had gone of his own free will, ready to forget her, wishing to forget her. It seemed years since he had called to her that night in the big drawing-room. She seemed to hear his voice now, charged with love and despair. And the memory of the time intervening until Maud's arrival was like a long nightmare, followed at Surima by a blank that, ill as she was, came as a dreamless, refreshing sleep from which she had awakened to a world of diversion.

With returning health and the stimulation of Maud's company she had begun to find solace in her freedom, in the power of her beauty, which slowly she had learn to value. At first the attention she attracted came to her as a genuine surprise, and all the dances, the parties, the light-hearted gatherings proved a welcome refuge from depressing thought. Finally she had plunged into the gay whirl with a will, encouraged by Maud, living solely in the[Pg 262] agreeable, intoxicating present, banishing as far as possible the past from her mind, refusing to look forward.

And in one second all the false ramparts she had erected around her had crumbled to dust. One moment she had been laughing, free from care, the next she had looked up in the midst of some careless banter to see Philip—but what a different Philip, cold and callous and hard! Stella did not doubt Maud's version of the conversation that had passed between the two. It seemed clear enough that Philip shrank from renewal of the past, and was it any wonder? She tried to be just to him, yet a feeling of bitter resentment fought with her sense of fair play. Why, when she had discovered that, given the opportunity, life could be enjoyed, should he have come to disturb and distress her? Where, all this time, had he been, what had he been doing? No word concerning him had reached her. Of course, she understood that he had not known she was at Surima; yet why, if he did not wish to meet her again, had he come up to her in the ball-room? Surely it would have been simple enough to leave Surima without allowing her to know he had been there at all. Was it partly for her sake that he had, to quote Maud, "cleared out," or was it entirely because he feared she might expect him to lay his heart at her feet once more? Whatever the reason the result was the same. He had gone without a word or a message that would have left her in possession of the truth.

Passionately she wished she had the power to[Pg 263] wipe the whole incident from her mind. Maud was right; she had her compensations; but of what value would they be to her once she was back at Rassih? In another month or less she must return to Robert, to the horrible old house, to Sher Singh, and the loneliness, the dull round of petty happenings repeated day after day.... A fierce defiance seized her; at least she had this month before her; she could but make the best of it. Her heart hardened. She looked up at the clear blue sky, watched an eagle soaring over the valley, became conscious of the vast, sunny peace around her, drew in long breaths of the wonderful air.... After all, she was young, she was well; and when she returned to Rassih she would endeavour to recover her influence with Robert. Once reassured of her loyalty he might allow her to invite friends to stay with her, friends she had made at Surima, might permit her to pay visits in return. Next year she would manœuvre to take a house of her own at Surima for the hot-weather months. With such a prospect the coming winter could be endured. She realised that Robert, on his part, had a grievance against her; undoubtedly she had been a disappointment to him. She owed him some consideration; in his way he had not been ungenerous; all this time at Surima he had kept her well supplied with money, and if he had been glad to get rid of her was it not only natural?

Well, she would continue to enjoy herself now, and then she would go back and wheedle and coax and work upon Robert's weaknesses until she could induce him to grant her liberty when occasion should[Pg 264] arise. Let Philip go hang. If he wished to forget her let him do so; she could play the same game, and play it she would! Resolutely she turned her mind to coming dissipations; the General's garden party this afternoon—she was fully aware that the station regarded her as the special "favourite" of Sir George Rolt. Subalterns made up to her with the idea that she held the ear of the Chief; not only subalterns either, but more senior aspirants to favour and promotion. The sense of prestige and power fed the worst side of her nature, and, in addition, she liked Sir George Rolt, whose free admiration raised her to a pinnacle of importance, rendered her an object of envy among all the other women of a certain type in the place who possessed any claim to attractions. To-night there would be the Club dinner, with theatricals to follow; at both gatherings she knew she would be the best looking, best dressed woman of the throng, and her sore spirit took comfort in the conviction.

Stella wandered back to the little bungalow on the side of the hill feeling as though she had drunk deep of some draught that stilled trouble and pain for the time, however pernicious its after-effects.

[Pg 265]

CHAPTER VII

The Swan Song of the Surima season took the form of a picnic—a truly ambitious entertainment given by a moneyed merchant from Calcutta, whose ideas of hospitality had apparently no boundaries. A banquet was prepared in the vicinity of a famous waterfall some two miles below the station; champagne vied with the waterfall itself in its volume and flow; there was a band; Badminton nets had been erected on a convenient plateau, and covetable prizes had been provided for the winners of an improvised tournament of two a side; in addition every lady present was to receive a gift—chocolates, scent, pretty, expensive trifles. High spirits prevailed, and amid the gay, well-dressed assemblage of women Mrs. Crayfield was pre-eminent.

Stella had won the first prize in the tournament, a jewelled bangle; animated, flushed, she stood the centre of attention receiving congratulations, protesting that her success was due only to her handicap, and to the exertions of her partner in the game. "You all know I can't play a bit!" she said laughing, radiant; the bangle was lovely, everyone was so nice, nobody seemed to grudge her the little triumph; it was all delightful.

"Never mind—you have won, no matter how!" chaffed the General. "Now aren't you tired?" he added, lowering his voice. "Come for a stroll, to get an appetite for tea!"

[Pg 266]

Adroitly he detached her from the crowd that had already begun to disperse in groups and pairs. As Stella and Sir George moved off together Maud and her husband went by; Dick Matthews had arrived at Surima the previous evening, and Bobbie Nash, as some wag had remarked, was nursing his nose in the background for the time being; the only individual, perhaps, who was not altogether enjoying the picnic.

"Don't attempt to follow us!" called Maud as she passed Stella and the General, and she looked back at them over her shoulder, pulled down her mouth, cast up her eyes, then tucked her arm into Dick's and stepped out beside him with an air of exaggerated virtue.

"Little cat!" exclaimed the General, highly entertained with her antics, "as if we should want to follow them!" He glanced about, scanning various directions in which they might hope to find privacy; and presently they were climbing the slope of the mountain above the waterfall to seat themselves on the trunk of a fallen tree screened by a tangle of ferns, saplings, feathery bamboos, beneath the shade of the oaks that rose densely behind them.

Sir George took out his cigarette case. "Well," he said with a resigned sigh, "it's sad to think we shall all be scattered during the next ten days. I wonder when and where you and I will meet again!"

"Goodness knows!" Privately Stella did not particularly care. "Don't let us look forward."

Yet his words gave her a sense of depression after all the gaiety and the glamour of the picnic luncheon[Pg 267] and the surface excitement of the tournament. She was tired, conscious of reaction; her spirits fell. She would have preferred to sit silent, listening to the music of the waterfall, the cheerful chirrup of the crickets, to be soothed by the scenery and the soft evening sunshine, the peace and the remoteness of the surroundings.

"Not look forward to our meeting again?" Reproachful astonishment was in the General's tone as he leaned forward to look into her eyes. "Do you mean to forget me, little girl?"

She was aware of a certain magic in his bold, strong face, in his maturity, and experience of women and of the world. Stella felt helpless, ensnared, yet the ensnarement was enticing, held a baleful fascination. So often during these months at Surima she had felt it, felt at the same time that it meant nothing serious; it was just a game, but a game that Sir George knew so much better than she did how to play without fear of disastrous result. More than once had he led her, as it were, to the edge of the volcano; just a peep over and a timely withdrawal into safety.

"Why don't you answer?" he laid his hand on hers; she moved her hand quickly, yet, as before, not altogether unwilling to dally with the moment that held a little thrill of excitement.

"Of course," she said demurely, "I don't want to forget you. Why should I?"

"Well then, give me something to remember—that we can both remember to the end of our days!"

His arm went round her; his face, his hard, handsome face, was close to hers! he meant to kiss her,[Pg 268] meant business this time—because it was the last opportunity? And of a sudden Stella thought of Philip, of how Philip had held her in his arms, had pressed his lips to hers....

"Don't!" she cried desperately, "don't! You can't understand—it's impossible——"

"Why?" he inquired, intrigued. "Is there someone else?"

She let herself go, turned to him in her distress, with an instinct that he would comprehend if he had but an inkling of her plight. "Yes," she said tremulously, "there is, there was, someone else, and it's all so hopeless, and miserable!"

He held out his hand, this time with friendly, almost fatherly intention. "There! Poor child, how was I to know? Forgive me; I dare say I've been a beast, but I meant no real harm. Tell me all about it, eh?"

Sir George felt as much curiosity as interest to hear the little story. Surely she was too young, too inexperienced, to have had any serious love affair; he was prepared to be secretly amused, as well as to show adequate sympathy. Probably it was just some boy and girl romance, and her parents had married her suitably to put an end to it.

"I can't talk about it," said Stella.

"Did it happen before, or after you were married?" he persisted.

She did not answer.

"Then it was after!"

She nodded reluctantly.

"And shall you see him again?" Clearly it was[Pg 269] no one at Surima, since he himself had been the favoured one of all her adorers.

"No, never!" said Stella vehemently.

"Well then, listen to my words of wisdom. Don't imagine at your age that you won't fall in love again, but when you do remember to keep your head if you can't keep your heart. The world is never well lost for any man's sake, whatever the poets may say. If I'm not mistaken you have plenty of grit; so don't allow circumstances to get the better of you. Take what you can get out of life without losing your place in the ranks of the righteous, or you'll be trampled into the dust. Love as much as you like, but love wisely. Bide your time, Stella, my child;