CHAPTER III
THE TRIUMPH
Lady Harriet's lorgnettes were brought piercingly to bear upon thebride-elect that night, and her thin, refined features never relaxedduring the operation. She was looking upon such youth and loveliness asseldom came her way; but the sight gave her no pleasure. She deemed itextremely unsuitable that Stella should dance at all on the eve of herwedding, and when she realized that nearly every man in the room washaving his turn, her disapproval by no means diminished. She wonderedaudibly to one after another of her followers what Captain Dacre wasabout to permit such a thing. And when Monck--Everard Monck of allpeople who usually avoided all gatherings at the Club and had never beenknown to dance if he could find any legitimate means of excusinghimself--waltzed Stella through the throng, her indignation amountedalmost to anger. The mess had yielded to the last man.
"I call it almost brazen," she said to Mrs. Burton, the Major's wife."She flaunts her unconventionality in our faces."
"A grave mistake," agreed Mrs. Burton. "It will not make us think anythe more highly of her when she is married."
"I am in two minds about calling on her," declared Lady Harriet. "I amvery doubtful as to the advisability of inviting any one so obviouslyunsuitable into our inner circle. Of course Mrs. Ralston," she raisedher long pointed chin upon the name, "will please herself in the matter.She will probably be the first to try and draw her in, but what Mrs.Ralston does and what I do are two very different things. She is notparticular as to the society she keeps, and the result is that heropinion is very justly regarded as worthless."
"Oh, quite," agreed Mrs. Burton, sending an obviously false smile in thedirection of the lady last named who was approaching them in the companyof Mrs. Ermsted, the Adjutant's wife, a little smart woman whom Tommyhad long since surnamed "The Lizard."
Mrs. Ralston, the surgeon's wife, had once been a pretty girl, and therewere occasions still on which her prettiness lingered like the gleams ofa fading sunset. She had a diffident manner in society, but yet she wasthe only woman in the station who refused to follow Lady Harriet's lead.As Tommy had said, she was a nobody. Her influence was of no account,but yet with unobtrusive insistence she took her own way, and none couldturn her therefrom.
Mrs. Ermsted held her up to ridicule openly, and yet very strangely shedid not seem to dislike the Adjutant's sharp-tongued little wife. Shehad been very good to her on more than one occasion, and the mostappreciative remark that Mrs. Ermsted had ever found to make regardingher was that the poor thing was so fond of drudging for somebody that itwas a real kindness to let her. Mrs. Ermsted was quite willing to bekind to any one in that respect.
They approached now, and Lady Harriet gave to each her distinctive smileof royal condescension.
"I expected to see you dancing, Mrs. Ermsted," she said.
"Oh, it's too hot," declared Mrs. Ermsted. "You want the temperament ofa salamander to dance on a night like this."
She cast a barbed glance towards Stella as she spoke as Monck guided herto the least crowded corner of the ball-room. Stella's delicate face wasflushed, but it was the exquisite flush of a blush-rose. Her eyes wereof a starry brightness; she had the radiant look of one who has achievedher heart's desire.
"What a vision of triumph!" commented Mrs. Ermsted. "It's soothinganyway to know that that wild-rose complexion won't survive the summer.Captain Monck looks curiously out of his element. No doubt he prefersthe bazaars."
"But Stella Denvers is enchanting to-night," murmured Mrs. Ralston.
Lady Harriet overheard the murmur, and her aquiline nose was instantlyelevated a little higher. "So many people never see beyond the outerhusk," she said.
Mrs. Burton smiled out of her slitty eyes. "I should scarcely imagineCaptain Monck to be one of them," she said. "He is obviously here as amatter of form to-night. The best man must be civil to thebride--whatever his feelings."
Lady Harriet's face cleared a little, although her estimate of Mrs.Burton's opinion was not a very high one. "That may account for CaptainDacre's extremely complacent attitude," she said. "He regards theattentions paid to his _fiancee_ as a tribute to himself."
"He may change his point of view when he is married," laughed Mrs.Ermsted. "It will be interesting to watch developments. We all know whatCaptain Dacre is. I have never yet seen him satisfied to take a backseat."
Mrs. Burton laughed with her. "Nor content to occupy even a front one atthe same show for long," she observed. "I marvel to see him caught inthe noose so easily."
"None but an adventuress could have done it," declared Mrs. Ermsted."She has practised the art of slinging the lasso before now."
"My dear," said Mrs. Ralston, "forgive me, but that is unworthy of you."
Mrs. Ermsted flicked an eyelid in Mrs. Burton's direction with an_insouciance_ that somehow robbed the act of any serious sting. "PoorMrs. Ralston holds such a high opinion of everybody," she said, "thatshe must meet with a hundred disappointments in a day."
Lady Harriet's down-turned lips said nothing, but they were none theless eloquent on that account.
Mrs. Ralston's eyes of faded blue watched Stella with a distressed look.She was not hurt on her own account, but she hated to hear the girlcriticized in so unfriendly a spirit. Stella was more brilliantlybeautiful that night than she had ever before seen her, and she longedto hear a word of appreciation from that hostile group of women. But sheknew very well that the longing was vain, and it was with relief thatshe saw Captain Dacre himself saunter up to claim Mrs. Ermsted for apartner.
Smiling, debonair, complacent, the morrow's bridegroom had a carelessquip for all and sundry on that last night. It was evident that his_fiancee's_ defection was a matter of no moment to him. Stella was tohave her fling, and he, it seemed, meant to have his. He and Mrs.Ermsted had had many a flirtation in the days that were past and it waswell known that Captain Ermsted heartily detested him in consequence.Some even hinted that matters had at one time approached very near to aclimax, but Ralph Dacre knew how to handle difficult situations, andwith considerable tact had managed to avoid it. Little Mrs. Ermsted,though still willing to flirt, treated him with just a tinge ofdisdain, now-a-days; no one knew wherefore. Perhaps it was more forStella's edification than her own that she condescended to dance withhim on that sweltering evening of Indian spring.
But Stella was evidently too engrossed with her own affairs to pay muchattention to the doings of her _fiance_. His love-making was not of anature to be carried on in public. That would come later when theywalked home through the glittering night and parted in the shadowyverandah while Tommy tramped restlessly about within the bungalow. Hewould claim that as a right she knew, and once or twice remembering themethods of his courtship a little shudder went through her as shedanced. Very willingly would she have left early and foregone allintercourse with her lover that night. But there was no escape for her.She was pledged to the last dance, and for the sake of the pride thatshe carried so high she would not shrink under the malicious eyes thatwatched her so unsparingly. Her dance with Monck was quickly over, andhe left her with the briefest word of thanks. Afterwards she saw him nomore.
The rest of the evening passed in a whirl of gaiety that meant verylittle to her. Perhaps, on the whole, it was easier to bear than anevening spent in solitude would have been. She knew that she would betoo utterly weary to lie awake when bedtime came at last. And the nightwould be so short--ah, so short! And so she danced and laughed with thegayest of the merrymakers, and when it was over at last even theseverest of her critics had to admit that her triumph was complete. Shehad borne herself like a queen at a banquet of rejoicing, and like aqueen she finally quitted the festive scene in a 'rickshaw drawn by ateam of giddy subalterns, scattering her careless favours upon all whocared to compete for them.
As she had foreseen, Dacre accompanied the procession. He had no mind tobe cheated of his rights, and it was he who finally dispersed theirresponsible throng at the steps of the verandah, handing her up themwith a royal air a
nd drawing her away from the laughter and cheeringthat followed her.
With her hand pressed lightly against his side, he led her away to thedarkest corner, and there he pushed back the soft wrap from hershoulders and gathered her into his arms.
She stood almost stiffly in his embrace, neither yielding nor attemptingto avoid. But at the touch of his lips upon her neck she shivered. Therewas something sensual in that touch that revolted her--in spite ofherself.
"Ralph," she said, and her voice quivered a little, "I think you mustsay good-bye to me. I am tired to-night. If I don't rest, I shall neverbe ready for to-morrow."
He made an inarticulate sound that in some fashion expressed what thedrawing of his lips had made her feel. "Sweetheart--to-morrow!" hesaid, and kissed her again with a lingering persistence that to heroverwrought nerves had in it something that was almost unendurable. Itmade her think of an epicurean tasting some favourite dish and smackinghis lips over it.
A hint of irritation sounded in her voice as she said, drawing slightlyaway from him, "Yes, I want to rest for the few hours that are left.Please say good night now, Ralph! Really I am tired."
He laughed softly, his cheek laid to hers. "Ah, Stella!" he said. "Whata queen you have been to-night! I have been watching you with the restof the world, and I shouldn't mind laying pretty heavy odds that thereisn't a single man among 'em that doesn't envy me."
Stella drew a deep breath as if she laboured against some oppression."It's nice to be envied, isn't it?" she said.
He kissed her again. "Ah! You're a prize!" he said. "It was just aquestion of first in, and I never was one to let the grass grow. Iplucked the fruit while all the rest were just looking at it.Stella--mine! Stella--mine!"
His lips pressed hers between the words closely, possessively, and againinvoluntarily she shivered. She could not return his caresses thatnight.
His hold relaxed at last. "How cold you are, my Star of the North!" hesaid. "What is it? Surely you are not nervous at the thought ofto-morrow after your triumph to-night! You will carry all before you,never fear!"
She answered him in a voice so flat and emotionless that it soundedforeign even to herself. "Oh, no, I am not nervous. I'm too tired tofeel anything to-night."
He took her face between his hands. "Ah, well, you will be all mine thistime to-morrow. One kiss and I will let you go. You witch--youenchantress! I never thought you would draw old Monck too into yourtoils."
Again she drew that deep breath as of one borne down by some heavyweight. "Nor I," she said, and gave him wearily the kiss for which hebargained.
He did not stay much longer, possibly realizing his inability to awakeany genuine response in her that night. Her remoteness must have chilledany man less ardent. But he went from her too encompassed with blissfulanticipation to attach any importance to the obvious lack ofcorresponding delight on her part. She was already in his estimation hisown property, and the thought of her happiness was one which scarcelyentered into his consideration. She had accepted him, and no doubt sherealized that she was doing very well for herself. He had no misgivingson that point. Stella was a young woman who knew her own mind verythoroughly. She had secured the finest catch within reach, and she wasnot likely to repent of her bargain at this stage.
So, unconcernedly, he went his way, throwing a couple of _annas_ withcareless generosity to a beggar who followed him along the road whiningfor alms, well-satisfied with himself and with all the world on thatwonderful night that had witnessed the final triumph of the woman whomhe had chosen for his bride, asking nought of the gods save that whichthey had deigned to bestow--Fortune's favourite whom every man mustenvy.