CHAPTER VI.
'A COMPETITION-WALLAH.'
Ainsi doit etre Un petit-maitre; Leger, amusant, Vif, complaisant, Plaisant, Railleur aimable, Traitre adorable; C'est l'homme du jour, Fait pour l'amour.
One of the stupid things that people do in India is to select the twohottest hours of the day for calling on each other. How such an idioticidea first found its way into existence, by what strange fate it becamepart of the social law of Anglo-Indians, and how it is that no one hasyet been found with courage or strength enough to break down a custom sodetrimental to the health and comfort of mankind, are among the numerousmysteries which the historian of India must be content to leaveunsolved. Like Chinese ladies' feet, the high heels on which fashionableEurope at present does penance, suttee of Hindu widows, and infanticideamong the Rajpoot nobles, it is merely a curious instance that there isnothing so foolish and so disagreeable that human beings will not do orendure if it only becomes the fashion.
At any rate, the ladies and gentlemen of Dustypore were resolved not tobe a whit less fashionable and uncomfortable than their neighbours, andreligiously exchanged visits from twelve to two.
Maud's arrival was the signal for a burst of callers, and a goodlystream of soldiers and civilians arrived day by day to pay their homageto the newly-arrived beauty and her chaperon. Felicia's house was alwayspopular, and all that was pleasantest and best in Dustypore assembled ather parties. Young London dandies fresh from home, and exploring theSandy Tracts under the impression of having left the _Ultima Thule_ ofcivilisation far behind them, were sometimes startled to find herdrawing-room as full of taste, luxury, and refinement as if they hadsuddenly been transported to Eaton Square.
What is the nameless grace that some women have the art of putting intochairs and tables, which turns them from mere bits of upholstery intosomething hardly short of poetry? How is it that in some rooms therebreathes a subtle charm, an aroma of delicacy and culture, a proprietyin the behaviour of the sofas and ottomans to one another, a pleasantnegligence apparent through the general order, a courageous simplicityamid elaborated comfort, which, in the absence of the mistress, tellsthe expectant visitor that he is about to meet a thoroughbred lady?
Some such fascination, at any rate, there lingered about the cool,carefully-shaded room in which Felicia received her guests. It was by nomeans smart, and not especially tidy, for it was often invaded andoccupied by a victorious horde from the nursery, and bore many a sign ofthe commonplace routine of daily life. But to Felicia's friends it wasan enchanted abode, where a certain refuge might be found from whateverdisagreeable things or people prevailed outside, and where Felicia, who,whatever she might feel, always looked calm and radiant and cool,presided as the _genius loci_, to forbid the possibility of profaneintrusion.
One thing that made it picturesque was that at all times and seasons itabounded in flowers. Felicia was an enthusiastic gardener, and herloving skill and care could save many a tender plant which would, in aless experienced hand, have withered and sunk under the burning heat anddust that prevailed everywhere but in the confines of Felicia's kingdom.Her garden gave her a more home-like feeling than any other Indianexperience. It refreshed her to go out early in the morning, while thechildren were yet asleep, and the sun's rays had barely surmounted thetall rows of plantains that marked the garden's boundary, and guardedher treasures from the sultry air. It soothed her to superintend fernsand roses, cuttings from some Himalayan shrub, or precious littleseedlings from England. By dint of infinite care she had created a patchof turf, which, if not quite as green, fresh and dewy as the lawn athome, was at any rate a rest to eyes weary with dazzling wastes and thebright blazing air. There Felicia had a shady corner, where pots andsticks and garden-tools attested the progress of many a new gardeningexperiment, and where the water forced up from the well at the garden'send went rippling by with a pleasant sound, cooling and softening allthe air around. Oftentimes, as she lingered here, her fancies wouldwander to the pleasant Manor House, where her taste for flowers had beenacquired in her father's company, and she would be again fern-huntingwith him through some cool mossy woodland, or roaming through a paradiseof bluebells, with the well-loved beeches towering overhead, while thesweet summer evening died slowly away.
Early amongst the visitors Mr. Desvoeux was announced, and Felicia, whenshe saw his card, told Maud that she would be sure now to be very muchamused.
'He is the most brilliant of all the young civilians,' she said, 'and isto do great things. But he talks great nonsense and abuses everybody. Sodo not be astonished at anything you hear.'
'And is he nice?' inquired Maud.
Felicia made a little face, not altogether of approval:
'Well,' she said, 'he is more curious than nice;' and then Desvoeux madehis appearance, and while he was exchanging preliminary commonplaceswith Felicia, Maud had an opportunity of observing the visitor'sexterior claims, which were not inconsiderable, to the regard ofwomankind.
He was certainly, Maud felt at once, extremely handsome and, apparently,extremely anxious to be thought so. The general effect which he producedwas that of a poetical dandy. He was dressed with a sort of effeminatefinery, with here and there a careless touch which redeemed it all fromutter fopdom. He was far too profusely set about with pretty things,lockets and rings and costly knickknacks; on the other hand hishandkerchief was tied with a more than Byronic negligence. The flower inhis button-hole was exquisite, but it was stuck in with a carelessnesswhich, if studied, was none the less artistic. On the whole he wasover-dressed; but he walked into the room with the air of a man who hadforgotten all about it, and who had no eyes or thoughts for anythingbut his present company.
Maud soon began to think him very entertaining, but, as Felicia hadsaid, 'curious.' He was full of fun, extravagant, joyous,unconventional; he had turned, after the first few sentences, straightupon Maud and pointedly invited her into the conversation; and she soonfelt her spirits rising.
'I saw you this morning,' he said, 'in the distance, riding with Sutton.I should have asked to be allowed to join you, but that I was too shy,and Sutton would have hated me for spoiling his _tete-a-tete_.'
'Three is an odious number, is it not, Mr. Desvoeux?' said Felicia, 'andshould be expunged from the arithmetic books. Why was it ever invented?'
'In order, I suppose,' said Desvoeux, 'that we three might meet thismorning, and that there might be three Graces and three witches inMacbeth, and three members of the Salt Board. Three is evidently anecessity; but when I am of the trio, and two of us are men, I confess Idon't like it. It is so nice to have one's lady all to one's self. But,Miss Vernon, you are alarmed, I know, and naturally; you think that I amgoing to ask, what I suppose fifty people have been asking you all theweek, whether you enjoyed the voyage to India, and how you like thelooks of Dustypore. But I will be considerate, and spare you. Enjoyedthe voyage, indeed! What a horrid mockery the question seems!'
'But I _did_ enjoy it,' cried Maud; 'so you see that you might haveasked me after all. It was very exciting.'
'Yes, all the excitement of wondering every day what new mysteries ofhorror the ship's cooks will devise for dinner; whether the sinews ofSunday's turkey can rival those of Saturday's goose; the excitement ofgoing to bed in the dark and treading on a black-beetle; the excitementof shaving in a gale of wind and cutting one's nose off, as I verynearly did; the excitement of the young ladies who are expecting theirlovers at Bombay, and of the young ladies who will not wait till Bombaybut manufacture their lovers out of hand. It is too thrilling!'
'Well,' said Maud, 'we had theatricals and readings and dances, and agentleman who played the most lovely variations on the violin, and Ienjoyed it all immensely!'
'Ah,' said Desvoeux, as if suddenly convinced, 'then perhaps you areeven capable of liking Dustypore!'
'Poor Mr. Desvoeux!' said Felicia; 'how sorry you must be to havefinished your march, and be back again at stupid Dustypore!'
'No
place is stupid where Mrs. Vernon is,' said Desvoeux, gallantly;'or rather no place would be, if she were not so often "not at home."'
'That must be,' Felicia said, 'because you call on mail-days, when I ambusy with my home despatches.'
The real truth was that Felicia considered Desvoeux in need of frequentsetting down, and closed her door inhospitably against him, whenever heshowed the least inclination to be intimate.
'Well,' said Desvoeux, 'the days that you are busy with your despatchesand when I have written the Agent's, I do not find it lively, I admit.Come, Mrs. Vernon, the Fotheringhams, for instance--does not the verythought of them leave a sort of damp upon your mind? It makes oneshudder.' Then Desvoeux passed on to the other officials, upon whom hepoured the most vehement contempt.
The Salt Board, he told Maud, always from time immemorial consisted ofthe three greatest fogies in the Service; that was the traditionaryrule; it was only when you were half-idiotic that you could do the workproperly. As for Mr. Fotheringham, he was a lucky fellow; his idiocy haddeveloped early and strong.
'That is why Mrs. Vernon detests him so.'
'I don't detest him at all,' said Felicia; 'but I think him ratherdull.'
'Yes,' said Desvoeux, with fervour; 'as Dr. Johnson said of some one,he was, no doubt, dull naturally, but he must have taken a great deal ofpains to become as dull as he is now. Now, Miss Vernon, would you liketo see what the Board is like? First, you must know that I am theAgent's private secretary, and part of my business is to knock his andtheir heads together and try to get a spark out. That is how I come toknow about them. First I will show you how Vernon puts on his air ofUnder-Secretary and looks at me with a sort of serious, bored, officialair, as if he were a bishop and thought I was going to say somethingimpertinent.'
'As I dare say you generally are,' said Felicia, quite prepared to dobattle for her husband.
'Well,' said Desvoeux, 'this is how he sits and looks--gravity andfatigue personified.'
'Yes,' cried Maud, clapping her hands with pleasure; 'I can exactlyfancy him.'
'Then,' continued Desvoeux, who was really a good mimic and warmingrapidly into the work, 'in comes the Board. First Fotheringham,condescending and serene and wishing us all "Good-morning," as if hewere the Pope dispensing a blessing. You know his way--like this? Thenhere is Cockshaw, looking sagacious, but really pondering over his lastnight's rubber, and wishing the Board were finished.'
Felicia was forced to burst out laughing at the imitation.
'And now,' cried Maud, 'give us Mr. Blunt.'
Desvoeux put on Blunt's square awkward manner and coughed an imprecatorycough.
'Gentlemen,' he said, 'your figures are wrong, your arguments false andyour conclusions childish. I don't want to be offensive or personal, andI have the highest possible opinion of your service; but you must allowme to observe that you are all a pack of fools!'
'Capital,' cried Maud; 'and what do you do all the time, Mr.Desvoeux?'
'Oh, Vernon and I sit still and wink at each other and hope for the timewhen we shall have become idiotic enough to be on the Board ourselves.We are of the new _regime_, and are supposed to have wits, and we have agreat deal of intelligence to get over. But you know how the old oneswere chosen. All the stupidest sons of the stupidest families in Englandfor several generations, like the pedigree-wheat, you know, on theprinciple of selection; none but the blockheads of course would haveanything to do with India.'
'Don't abuse the bridge that carries you over,' Felicia said: 'Notreason to India--it has many advantages.'
'Innumerable,' cried Desvoeux: 'first, a decent excuse for separationbetween husbands and wives who happen to be uncongenial--no othersociety has anything to compare with it. You quarrel, you know----'
'No, we don't,' said Felicia, 'thank you. Speak for yourself.'
'Well, I quarrel with Mrs. Desvoeux, we'll say--though, by the way, Icould not quarrel even with my wife--but suppose a quarrel, and webecome mutually insupportable: there is no trouble, no scandal, noinconvenience. Mrs. Desvoeux's health has long required change of air; Isecure a berth for her on the P. & Q., escort her with the utmostpoliteness to Bombay, have a most affectionate parting, remit once aquarter, write once a fortnight--what can be more perfect?'
'But suppose,' said Maud, 'for the sake of argument, that you don'tquarrel and don't want to separate?'
'Or suppose,' said Felicia, who knew that the conversation was takingjust the turn she hated, 'that we try our duet, Mr. Desvoeux? You knowthat you are a difficult person to catch.'
'That is one of your unjust speeches,' said Desvoeux, dropping his voiceas they approached the piano and becoming suddenly serious: 'You knowthat I come quite as often as I think I have a chance of beingwelcome.'
Felicia ignored the remark and began playing the accompaniment with theutmost unconcern. The fact was that Desvoeux, though not quite such aDon Juan as he liked to be thought, had a large amount of affection todispose of, and had given Felicia to understand upon twenty occasionsthat he would like to begin a flirtation with her if he dared.