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  CHAPTER III

  IN BOMBAY

  It was not until a day late in January eight years afterwards that Thresksaw the face of Stella Derrick again; and then it was only in a portrait.He came upon it too in a most unlikely place. About five o'clockupon that afternoon he drove out of the town of Bombay up to one of thegreat houses on Malabar Hill and asked for Mrs. Carruthers. He was showninto a drawing-room which looked over Back Bay to the great buildings ofthe city, and in a moment Mrs. Carruthers came to him with her handsoutstretched.

  "So you've won. My husband telephoned to me. We do thank you! Victorymeans so much to us."

  The Carruthers were a young couple who, the moment after they hadinherited the larger share in the great firm of Templeton & Carruthers,Bombay merchants, had found themselves involved in a partnershipsuit due to one or two careless phrases in a solicitor's letter. The casehad been the great case of the year in Bombay. The issue had beendoubtful, the stake enormous and Thresk, who three years before had takensilk, had been fetched by young Carruthers from England to fight it.

  "Yes, we've won," he said. "Judgment was given in our favor thisafternoon."

  "You are dining with us to-night, aren't you."

  "Thank you, yes," said Thresk. "At half-past eight."

  "Yes."

  Mrs. Carruthers gave him some tea and chattered pleasantly while he drankit. She was fair-haired and pretty, a lady of enthusiasms and upliftedhands, quite without observation or knowledge, yet with power toastonish. For every now and then some little shrewd wise saying wouldgleam out of the placid flow of her trivialities and make whoever heardit wonder for a moment whether it was her own or whether she had heard itfrom another. But it was her own. For she gave no special importance toit as she would have done had it been a remark she had thought worthremembering. She just uttered it and slipped on, noticing no differencein value between what she now said and what she had said a second ago. Toher the whole world was a marvel and all things in it equally amazing.Besides she had no memory.

  "I suppose that now you are free," she said, "you will go up into thecentral Provinces and see something of India."

  "But I am not free," replied Thresk. "I must get immediately back toEngland."

  "So soon!" exclaimed Mrs. Carruthers. "Now isn't that a pity! You oughtto see the Taj--oh, you really ought!--by moonlight or in the morning. Idon't know which is best, and the Ridge too!--the Ridge at Delhi. Youreally mustn't leave India without seeing the Ridge. Can't things wait inLondon?"

  "Yes, things can, but people won't," answered Thresk, and Mrs. Carrutherswas genuinely distressed that he should depart from India without asingle journey in a train.

  "I can't help it," he said, smiling back into her mournful eyes. "Apartfrom my work, Parliament meets early in February."

  "Oh, to be sure, you are in Parliament," she exclaimed. "I hadforgotten." She shook her fair head in wonder at the industry ofher visitor. "I can't think how you manage it all. Oh, you mustneed a holiday."

  Thresk laughed.

  "I am thirty-six, so I have a year or two still in front of me before Ihave the right to break down. I'll save up my holidays for my old age."

  "But you are not married," cried Mrs. Carruthers. "You can't do that. Youcan't grow comfortably old unless you're married. You will want to workthen to get through the time. You had better take your holidays now."

  "Very well. I shall have twelve days upon the steamer. When does it go?"asked Thresk as he rose from his chair.

  "On Friday, and this is Monday," said Mrs. Carruthers. "You certainlyhaven't much time to go anywhere, have you?"

  "No," replied Thresk, and Mrs. Carruthers saw his face quicken suddenlyto surprise. He actually caught his breath; he stared, no longer aware ofher presence in the room. He was looking over her head towards the grandpiano which stood behind her chair; and she began to run over in her mindthe various ornaments which encumbered it. A piece of Indian draperycovered the top and on the drapery stood a little group of Dresden Chinafigures, a crystal cigarette-box, some knick-knacks and half-a-dozenphotographs in silver frames. It must be one of those photographs, shedecided, which had caught his eye, which had done more than catch hiseye. For she was looking up at Thresk's face all this while, and thesurprise had gone from it. It seemed to her that he was moved.

  "You have the portrait of a friend of mine there," he said, and hecrossed the room to the piano.

  Mrs. Carruthers turned round.

  "Oh, Stella Ballantyne!" she cried. "Do you know her, Mr. Thresk?"

  "Ballantyne?" said Thresk. For a moment or two he was silent. Then heasked: "She is married then?"

  "Yes, didn't you know? She has been married for a long time."

  "It's a long time since I have heard of her," said Thresk. He lookedagain at the photograph.

  "When was this taken?"

  "A few months ago. She sent it to me in October. She is beautiful, don'tyou think?"

  "Yes."

  But it was not the beauty of the girl who had ridden along the SouthDowns with him eight years ago. There was more of character in the facenow, less, much less, of youth and none of the old gaiety. The openfrankness had gone. The big dark eyes which looked out straight atThresk as he stood before them had, even in that likeness, something ofaloofness and reserve. And underneath, in a contrast which seemed to himstartling, there was her name signed in the firm running hand in whichshe had written the few notes which passed between them during thatmonth in Sussex. Thresk looked back again at the photograph and thenresumed his seat.

  "Tell me about her, Mrs. Carruthers," he said. "You hear from her often?"

  "Oh no! Stella doesn't write many letters, and I don't know hervery well."

  "But you have her photograph," said Thresk, "and signed by her."

  "Oh yes. She stayed with me last Christmas, and I simply made her get herportrait taken. Just think! She hadn't been taken for years. Can youunderstand it? She declared she was bored with it. Isn't that curious?However, I persuaded her and she gave me one. But I had to force her towrite on it."

  "Then she was in Bombay last winter?" said Thresk slowly.

  "Yes." And then Mrs. Carruthers had an idea.

  "Oh," she exclaimed, "if you are really interested in Stella I'll putMrs. Repton next to you to-night."

  "Thank you very much," said Thresk. "But who is Mrs. Repton?"

  Mrs. Carruthers sat forward in her chair.

  "Well, she's Stella's great friend--very likely her only real friend inIndia. Stella's so reserved. I simply adore her, but she quite prettilyand politely keeps me always at arm's length. If she has ever opened outto anybody it's to Jane Repton. You see Charlie Repton was Collector atAgra before he came into the Bombay Presidency, and so they went up toMussoorie for the hot weather. The Ballantynes happened actually to havethe very next bungalow--now wasn't that strange?--so naturally theybecame acquainted. I mean the Ballantynes and the Reptons did..."

  "But one moment, Mrs. Carruthers," said Thresk, breaking in upon thetorrent of words. "Am I right in guessing that Mrs. Ballantyne livesin India?"

  "But of course!" cried Mrs. Carruthers.

  "She is actually in India now?"

  "To be sure she is!"

  Thresk was quite taken aback by the news.

  "I had no idea of it," he said slowly, and Mrs. Carruthers repliedsweetly:

  "But lots of people live in India, Mr. Thresk. Didn't you know that? Weare not the uttermost ends of the earth."

  Thresk set to work to make his peace. He had not heard of Mrs. Ballantynefor so long. It seemed strange to him to find himself suddenly near toher now--that is if he was near. He just avoided that other exasperatingtrick of treating India as if it was a provincial town and all itsinhabitants neighbours. But he only just avoided it. Mrs. Carruthers,however, was easily appeased.

  "Yes," she said. "Stella has lived in India for the best part of eightyears. She came out with some friends in the winter, made CaptainBallantyne's acquaintance and m
arried him almost at once--in January, Ithink it was. Of course I only know from what I've been told. I was aschoolgirl in England at the time."

  "Of course," Thresk agreed. He was conscious of a sharp little stab ofresentment. So very quickly Stella had forgotten that morning on theDowns! It must have been in the autumn of that same year that she hadgone out to India, and by February she was married. The resentment wasquite unjustified, as no one knew better than himself. But he was a man;and men cannot easily endure so swift an obliteration of their imagesfrom the thoughts and the hearts of the ladies who have admitted thatthey loved them. None the less he pressed for details. Who wasBallantyne? What was his position? After all he was obviously not themillionaire to whom in a more generous moment he had given Stella. Hecaught himself on a descent to the meanness of rejoicing upon that.Meanwhile Mrs. Carruthers rippled on.

  "Captain Ballantyne? Oh, he's a most remarkable man! Older thanStella, certainly, but a man of great knowledge and insight. Peoplethink most highly of him. Languages come as easily to him ascrochet-work to a woman."

  This paragon had been Resident in the Principality of Bakuta to the northof Bombay when Stella had first arrived. But he had been moved now toChitipur in Rajputana. It was supposed that he was writing in his leisuremoments a work which would be the very last word upon the nativePrincipalities of Central India. Oh, Stella was to be congratulated! AndMrs. Carruthers, in her fine mansion on Malabar Hill, breathed a sigh ofenvy at the position of the wife of a high official of the British _Raj_.

  Thresk looked over again to the portrait on the piano.

  "I am very glad," he said cordially as once more he rose.

  "But you shall sit next to Mrs. Repton to-night," said Mrs. Carruthers."And she will tell you more."

  "Thank you," answered Thresk. "I only wished to know that things aregoing well with Mrs. Ballantyne--that was all."