CHAPTER II
THE RETURN
Stella's first impression of Bhulwana was the extremely Europeanatmosphere that pervaded it. Bungalows and pine-woods seemed to be itsmain characteristics, and there was about it none of the languorousEastern charm that had so haunted the forbidden paradise. Bhulwana was acheerful place, and though perched fairly high among the hills ofMarkestan it was possible to get very hot there. For this reason perhapsall the energies of its visitors were directed towards the organizing ofgaieties, and in the height of the summer it was very gay indeed.
The Rajah's summer palace, white and magnificent, occupied the brow ofthe hill, and the bungalows that clustered among the pines below itlooked as if there had been some competition among them as to whichcould get the nearest.
The Ralstons' bungalow was considerably lower down the hill. It stoodupon more open ground than most, and overlooked the race-course somedistance below. It was an ugly little place, and the small compoundsurrounding it was a veritable wilderness. It had been named "The GrandStand" owing to its position, but no one less racy than its presentoccupant could well have been found. Mrs. Ralston's wistful blue eyesseldom rested upon the race-course. They looked beyond to themist-veiled plains.
The room she had prepared for Stella's reception looked in an easterlydirection towards the winding, wooded road that led up to the Rajah'sresidence. Great care had been expended upon it. Her heart had yearnedto the girl ever since she had heard of her sudden bereavement, and herdelight at the thought of receiving her was only second to her sorrowupon Stella's account.
Higher up the hill stood the dainty bungalow which Ralph Dacre had takenfor his bride. The thought of it tore Mrs. Ralston's tender heart. Shehad written an urgent epistle to Tommy imploring him not to let hissister go there in her desolation. And, swayed by Tommy's influence,and, it might be, touched by Mrs. Ralston's own earnest solicitude,Stella, not caring greatly whither she went, had agreed to take up herabode for a time at least with the surgeon's wife. There was nonecessity to make any sudden decision. The whole of her life lay beforeher, a dreary waste of desert. It did not seem to matter at that stagewhere she spent those first forlorn months. She was tired to the soul ofher, and only wanted to rest.
She hoped vaguely that Mrs. Ralston would have the tact to respect thiswish of hers. Her impression of this the only woman who had shown herany kindness since her arrival in India was not of a very definiteorder. Mrs. Ralston with her faded prettiness and gentle, retiring waysdid not possess a very arresting personality. No one seeing her two orthree times could have given any very accurate description of her. LadyHarriet had more than once described her as a negligible quantity. ButLady Harriet systematically neglected everyone who had no pretensions tosmartness. She detested all dowdy women.
But Stella still remembered with gratitude the warmth of affectionateadmiration and sympathy that had melted her coldness on her wedding-day,and something within her, notwithstanding her utter weariness, longed tofeel that warmth again. Though she scarcely realized it, she wanted theclasp of motherly arms, shielding her from the tempest of life.
Tommy, who had met her at Rawal Pindi on the dreadful return journey,had watched over her and cared for her comfort with the utmosttenderness; but Tommy, like Peter, was somehow outside her confidence.He was just a blundering male with the best intentions. She could nothave opened her heart to him had she tried. She was unspeakably glad tohave him with her, and later on she hoped to join him again at The GreenBungalow down at Kurrumpore where they had dwelt together during theweeks preceding her marriage. For Tommy was the only relative she hadin the world who cared for her. And she was very fond of Tommy, but shewas not really intimate with him. They were just good comrades.
As a married woman, she no longer feared the veiled shafts of malicethat had pierced her before. Her position was assured. Not that shewould have cared greatly in any case. Such trivial things belonged tothe past, and she marvelled now at the thought that they had everseriously affected her. She was changed, greatly changed. In one shortmonth she had left her girlhood behind her. Her proud shyness hadutterly departed. She had returned a grave, reserved woman, indifferent,almost apathetic, wholly self-contained. Her natural stateliness stillclung about her, but she did not cloak herself therewith. She walkedrather as one rapt in reverie, looking neither to the right nor to theleft.
Mrs. Ralston nearly wept when she saw her, so shocked was she by thehavoc that strange month had wrought. All the soft glow of youth hadutterly passed away. White and cold as alabaster, a woman empty andalone, she returned from the forbidden paradise, and it seemed to Mrs.Ralston at first that the very heart of her had been shattered like abeautiful flower by the closing of the gates.
But later, when Stella had been with her for a few hours, she realizedthat life still throbbed deep down below the surface, though, perhapsin self-defence, it was buried deep, very far from the reach of allcasual investigation. She could not speak of her tragedy, but sheresponded to the mute sympathy Mrs. Ralston poured out to her with agratitude that was wholly unfeigned, and the latter understood clearlythat she would not refuse her admittance though she barred out all theworld beside.
She was deeply touched by the discovery, reflecting in her humility thatStella's need must indeed have been great to have drawn her to herselffor comfort. It was true that nearly all her friends had been made introuble which she had sought to alleviate, but Mary Ralston was toolowly to ascribe to herself any virtue on that account. She only thankedGod for her opportunities.
On the night of their arrival, when Stella had gone to her room, Tommyspoke very seriously of his sister's state and begged Mrs. Ralston to doher utmost to combat the apathy which he had found himself wholly unableto pierce.
"I haven't seen her shed a single tear," he said. "People who didn'tknow would think her heartless. I can't bear to see that deadlycoldness. It isn't Stella."
"We must be patient," Mrs. Ralston said.
There were tears in the boy's own eyes for which she liked him, but shedid not encourage him to further confidence. It was not her way todiscuss any friend with a third person, however intimate.
Tommy left the subject without realizing that she had turned him fromit.
"I don't know in the least how she is left," he said restlessly."Haven't an idea what sort of state Dacre's affairs were in. I ought tohave asked him, but I never had the chance; and everything was done insuch a mighty hurry. I don't suppose he had much to leave if anything.It was a fool marriage," he ended bitterly. "I always hated it. Monckknew that."
"Doesn't Captain Monck know anything?" asked Mrs. Ralston.
"Oh, goodness knows. Monck's away on urgent business, been away for everso long now. I haven't seen him since Dacre's death. I daresay hedoesn't even know of that yet. He had to go Home. I suppose he is on hisway back again now; I hope so anyway. It's pretty beastly without him."
"Poor Tommy!" Mrs. Ralston's sympathy was uppermost again. "It's been atragic business altogether. But let us be thankful we have dear Stellasafely back! I am going to say good night to her now. Help yourself toanything you want!"
She went, and Tommy stretched himself out on a long chair with a sigh ofdiscontent over things in general. He had had no word from Monckthroughout his absence, and this was almost the greatest grievance ofall.
Treading softly the passage that led to Stella's door, Mrs. Ralstonnearly stumbled over a crouching, white-clad figure that rose up swiftlyand noiselessly on the instant and resolved itself into the salaamingperson of Peter the Sikh. He had slept across Stella's threshold eversince her bereavement.
"My _mem-sahib_ is still awake," he told her with a touch ofwistfulness. "She sleeps only when the night is nearly spent."
"And you sleep at her door?" queried Mrs. Ralston, slightlydisconcerted.
The tall form bent again with dignified courtesy. "That is my privilege,_mem-sahib,_" said Peter the Great.
He smiled mournfully, and made way for her to pass.
Mrs. Ralston knocked, and heard a low voice speak in answer. "What isit, Peter?"
Softly she opened the door. "It is I, my dear. Are you in bed? May Icome and bid you good night?"
"Of course," Stella made instant reply. "How good you are! How kind!"
A shaded night-lamp was burning by her side. Her face upon the pillowwas in deep shadow. Her hair spread all around her, wrapping her as itwere in mystery.
As Mrs. Ralston drew near, she stretched out a welcoming hand. "I hopemy watch-dog didn't startle you," she said. "The dear fellow is soupset that I don't want an _ayah_, he is doing his best to turn himselfinto one. I couldn't bear to send him away. You don't mind?"
"My dear, I mind nothing." Mrs. Ralston stooped in her warm way andkissed the pale, still face. "Are you comfortable? Have you everythingyou want?"
"Everything, thank you," Stella answered, drawing her hostess gentlydown to sit on the side of the bed. "I feel rested already. Somehow yourpresence is restful."
"Oh, my dear!" Mrs. Ralston flushed with pleasure. Not many were thecompliments that came her way. "And you feel as if you will be able tosleep?"
Stella's eyes looked unutterably weary; yet she shook her head. "No. Inever sleep much before morning. I think I slept too much when I was inKashmir. The days and nights all seemed part of one long dream." Aslight shudder assailed her; she repressed it with a shadowy smile."Life here will be very different," she said. "Perhaps I shall be ableto wake up now. I am not in the least a dreamy person as a rule."
The quick tears sprang to Mrs. Ralston's eyes; she stroked Stella's handwithout speaking.
"I wanted to go back to Kurrumpore with Tommy," Stella went on, "but hewon't hear of it, though he tells me that you stayed there through lastsummer. If you could stand it, so could I. I feel sure that physically Iam much stronger."
"Oh no, dear, no. You couldn't do it." Mrs. Ralston looked down upon thebeautiful face very tenderly. "I am tough, you know, dried up and wiry.And I had a very strong motive. But you are different. You would neverstand a hot season at Kurrumpore. I can't tell you what it is likethere. At its worst it is unspeakable. I am very glad that Tommyrealizes the impossibility of it. No, no! Stay here with me till I godown! I am always the first. And it will give me so much pleasure totake care of you."
Stella relinquished the discussion with a short sigh. "It doesn't seemto matter much what I do," she said. "Tommy certainly doesn't need me.No one does. And I expect you will soon get very tired of me."
"Never, dear, never." Mrs. Ralston's hand clasped hers reassuringly."Never think that for a moment! From the very first day I saw you I havewanted to have you to love and care for."
A gleam of surprise crossed Stella's face. "How very kind of you!" shesaid.
"Oh no, dear. It was your own doing. You are so beautiful," murmured thesurgeon's wife. "And I knew that you were the same all through--beautifulto the very soul."
"Oh, don't say that!" Sharply Stella broke in upon her. "Don't think it!You don't know me in the least. You--you have far more beauty of soulthan I have, or can ever hope to have now."
Mrs. Ralston shook her head.
"But it is so," Stella insisted. "I--What am I?" A tremor of passioncrept unawares into her low voice. "I am a woman who has been deniedeverything. I have been cast out like Eve, but without Eve'scompensations. If I had been given a child to love, I might have hadhope. But now I have none--I have none. I am hard and bitter,--oldbefore my time, and I shall never now be anything else."
"Oh, darling, no!" Very swiftly Mrs. Ralston checked her. "Indeed youare wrong. We can make of our lives what we will. Believe me, the barrenwoman can be a joyful mother of children if she will. There is alwayssomeone to love."
Stella's lips were quivering. She turned her face aside. "Life is verydifficult," she said.
"It gets simpler as one goes on, dear," Mrs. Ralston assured her gently."Not easy, oh no, not easy. We were never meant to make an easy-chair ofcircumstance however favourable. But if we only press on, it does getsimpler, and the way opens out before us as we go. I have learnt that atleast from life." She paused a moment, then bent suddenly down and spokeinto Stella's ear. "May I tell you something about myself--something Ihave never before breathed to any one--except to God?"
Stella turned instantly. "Yes, tell me!" she murmured back, claspingclosely the thin hand that had so tenderly stroked her own.
Mrs. Ralston hesitated a second as one who pauses before making asupreme effort. Then under her breath she spoke again. "Perhaps it willnot interest you much. I don't know. It is only this. Like you, Iwanted--I hoped for--a child. And--I married without loving--just forthat. Stella, my sin was punished. The baby came--and went--and therecan never be another. I thought my heart was broken at the time. Oh, itwas bitter--bitter. Even now--sometimes--" She stopped herself. "But no,I needn't trouble you with that. I only want to tell you that verybeautiful flowers bloom sometimes out of ashes. And it has been so withme. My rose of love was slow in growing, but it blossoms now, and I amtraining it over all the blank spaces. And it grew out of a barren soil,dear, out of a barren soil."
Stella's arms were close about her as she finished. "Oh, thank you," shewhispered tremulously, "thank you for telling me that."
But though she was deeply stirred, no further confidence could she bringherself to utter. She had found a friend--a close, staunch friend whowould never fail her; but not even to her could she show the blacknessof the gulf into which she had been hurled. Even now there were timeswhen she seemed to be still falling, falling, and always, waking orsleeping, the nightmare horror of it clung cold about her soul.