Banked Fires
CHAPTER XII
INFATUATION
Filled with the determination to set aside foolish jealousies andcultivate a more generous trust in human nature, the Collector returnedto his administrative duties in camp which were designed to bring himpersonally into contact with the villagers in his jurisdiction.
His bachelor experience of social life in the East had, unfortunately,not helped to supply him with much confidence in his own sex. However,men were not all ravening wolves let loose upon society, and it was anundeniable fact that no man, however unprincipled, would dare to makelove to a married woman without her encouragement, or attempt to seduceher from her lawful allegiance without her co-operation. And Joyce wasincorruptible because of her love for her child.
Yet there were times when Meredith's heart yearned wistfully for hisbeloved wife, and for the power of second sight that he might see howthings were going in his absence; and since he was denied that faculty,it was not a little comfort to him to know that Honor Bright was inintimate companionship with Joyce. He liked to think of her influenceexerted to assist the development of the childlike mind; for HonorBright was "one of the best," and would some day make some lucky fellowa splendid wife; of that there was no doubt whatever. It seemed amystery that she was still unmarried when she had been out in India fora year or more! and Meredith wondered what men were about. It did notstrike him that Honor was not to be had for the asking.
It was well, however, for the Collector's peace of mind and the workupon which he was engaged, that he did not know of the motor driveswhich were to provide a surprise for him one day.
"People are beginning to talk about them," Honor ventured, withreference to their frequency, shy of being misunderstood and afraid ofbeing considered interfering; but she had not forgotten Ray Meredith'sparting words spoken with wistful meaning--"Take care of my wife, she issuch a kid!"
She had accepted the responsibility and it was weighing heavily uponher.
"Very impertinent of 'people,'" said Joyce in return.
"You have to live among them, and in your position they want to look upto you as a sort of 'Caesar's wife,'" said Honor smiling. "But it is, ofcourse, a matter that lies between you and your husband entirely. If_he_ doesn't object----"
"He knows nothing about my learning to drive, as it is to be a surprise.What concern is it of any one else?"
"We generally stand or fall by what people think of us--don't we?However much we would like to ignore the fact, it remainsunquestionable. If we do things liable to misconstruction, we are likelyto suffer in the eyes of the world--and you see it every day. Youyourself disapproved of and condemned Mrs. Fox, whose ways none of usadmire or can stand."
"Oh, Honey!" reproachfully--"would you compare me with Mrs. Fox? Why shedoes scandalous things!"
"God forbid that I should! but Mrs. Fox did not begin by doingscandalous things. When she grew used to doing unconventional things shebecame consciously scandalous. Everything happens by degrees--evendeterioration."
"But you don't think there is any harm in my going for drives withCaptain Dalton, Honey? He is so different. He is not the kind of man whogets women talked about, I should imagine. Why, half the time, he isglum and absent-minded, and he treats me just like a child." Joyce neverresented Honor's plain-speaking.
"It is no business of mine," said Honor, "except that you are my friendand I am jealous for your honourable standing here. I know nothing ofCaptain Dalton, but that he is a man like most others--and you might,some day, meet with a surprise."
"What sort of surprise?" laughed Joyce sceptically.
"I don't know--but you'll remember that I warned you. Meantime, go easywith your favours. You are rather generous, you know."
Honor was thinking of Joyce's innocent demonstrativeness--inseparablefrom herself--which some men might not understand, and the doctor wasbut human after all. She had seen her toying with his watch-chain whilearguing against following his advice for the good of her health; leadinghim by the hand to visit her baby in its crib; seizing the lapels of hiscoat in a moment of eager excitement. On each of these occasions Honorhad been apart from them, an observer at a distance, engaged by othersin conversation and desirous of appearing unconscious of the doctor'sexistence. Since the day she had shown silent disapproval of him on thesteps of the Mission Bungalow, he had made no effort to bring about abetter understanding and she was wounded to the quick, though shesteeled herself to show utter indifference. Yet the sight of the doctorwith Joyce in such intimate circumstances--latterly made more so by thefrequent drives--had caused Honor's heart to twist with sudden anguish;for it was difficult to forget the day at his bungalow when he hadfought for her life and called her the bravest girl he knew. A wordlesssympathy had grown up between them since that day. His eyes had held forher a special message. Though he was "not seeking her for a wife" shefelt that he had liked her more than a little, and she----?
Now they were less than strangers; and Joyce, beautiful and confiding,was innocently flattering him with her preference. Where would it end?
While Honor watched the development of Joyce's friendship with CaptainDalton, she was also aware of a change in Jack. Tommy had drawn herattention to Mrs. Fox's efforts to enslave Jack, whose own demeanour wasbeginning to show that all was not right with him. A newself-consciousness was apparent in his manner towards her, and he madeblundering efforts to avoid being left alone in her company. He wasevidently afraid of her--afraid of himself, too--because of the evilimpulses her insidious influence had aroused in him.
The fact was, Jack had arrived at a just appreciation of the truism,"Opportunity makes the thief." His respect for Mrs. Fox had expiredafter the episode on her moonlight verandah, and though he had madeexcuses for her, he was conscious they had rung hollow. Yet, in spite ofhis strict upbringing and the knowledge of danger, he had come to thepsychological point when Opportunity was certain to make him a thief,for the memory of those kisses burned fiercely. He was as one who, bysteeping himself in the vice of intoxication, begets a craving foralcohol, and he felt that his powers of resistance were on the wane. Hischerished "ideal" was forgotten, and her portrait reposed face downwardamong envelopes and papers in his dispatch-box, while he kept out ofMrs. Meredith's way and neglected Honor Bright.
"Jack's not the same man," Tommy confided to Honor. "He eats little andtalks less. That woman will bring him to grief. I'd cheerfully shoother."
"What's the matter with Jack?" Honor asked, surprised. "What does headmire in her? I have no patience with him."
"I don't know that he admires her. It's an infatuation. She has cast aspell over him somehow, since the night he dined with her alone, and hecan't resist it. She writes to him almost every day."
"And he answers her notes?"
"Of course."
"Jack is weak. I simply have no use for such weakness," said Honorcontemptuously. "There is more hope for the villain who is deliberatelybad than for the wobbly wretch who hasn't the strength to resisttemptation. When the one repents, he is at least sincere; the other cannever be depended upon to repent sincerely."
"I never heard that before," grinned Tommy. "You would rather have Jacksin deliberately with his eyes open than fail in his efforts to keepstraight?"
"I have no patience for 'failures.' One could be angry with him forsinning deliberately, but hardly contemptuous. As it is, I have noopinion of Jack."
Tommy made no complaint, for it was all to his own advantage. Though hewas fond of Jack he had always regarded him as a dangerous rival, who sofar had been merciful in not exerting his fascinations upon the onlygirl in their small circle at Muktiarbad. Since he was such a fool as toprefer dangling after a married woman, ten years his senior, his bloodbe on his own head.
One evening, a few days later, Mrs. Fox discovered Jack Darling alone inthe billiard-room knocking about the balls while waiting for someone tojoin him in a game. The rules of the Muktiarbad Club were lenienttowards the ladies, who thus enjoyed privileges denied to them at l
argerstations. Mrs. Fox was therefore free to enter, and Jack was obliged tosubmit to his fate and comply with her request for a lesson in thescience of "screws" and "potting." He had been priding himself on hiswisdom and self-control in retiring from tennis and the society of theladies, and had not reckoned on the perseverance of the one lady hewished to avoid.
They played till others arrived; Jack was oddly moved by the sight ofher slender hand, exquisitely feminine and appealing, as it poised thecue or lay on the green cloth of the table. Little intimacies wereinevitable as he was further called upon to instruct her in theformation of a "bridge," or the handling of a cue; and he soon forgothis desire to escape, in the involuntary thrills her contact gave him.
Eventually, she gracefully resigned in favour of a couple of members wholooked their anxiety to play, and carried Jack off to escort her home.
"You are quite sure you do not mind?" she asked softly.
"Why should I mind?" he fenced awkwardly.
"Because you have behaved lately as though you did not--not--likeme...."
"Have I?" he asked, flushing red in the darkness. "That isn't true."
"I thought, perhaps, it was not true. That is why I was determined tohave this opportunity for a talk."
She did most of the talking while he barely listened, being consciousonly of the thumping of his capitulating heart. But neither made anyallusion to the tender episode on the verandah, from which Jack datedhis undoing.
In a quiet lane where the shadows lay deepest, he was asked to strike amatch. Convicted of lack of courtesy, Jack hurriedly produced hiscigarette case and offered it to her with confused apologies.
"No thanks. Only a lighted match. I want to show you something," shesaid plaintively. And while he struck a light she rolled back her silksleeve and displayed for his benefit a purple bruise on her shoulderwhere it curved down to the arm; an ugly, evil-looking thing stainingthe marble purity of the flesh.
"How did that happen?" he asked greatly shocked and very sympathetic.
"Can't you guess?"
"Good God!--is it possible? Is he such a cad as all that?" What else wasJack to think?
"Perhaps I had better say no more about it, only I thought you hadbetter know." Only the inference was possible, and Jack stoodstock-still burning with indignant fury that a woman should be subjectedto such brutality at the hands of a man. The match burned down to hisfinger-tips and fell to the ground leaving the two in the shadows of thesilent road.
"It makes me feel pretty mad--what can I do?" he asked helplessly as shedrew the sleeve down.
"You can do nothing--but give me a little tenderness and love," she saidwith a sob, letting him take her in his arms.
"You poor little woman!"
"It is so lovely to feel that you care, Jack! Nothing matters so long asyou care!" She clung to his neck inviting and returning his kisses.
Further down the lane as they walked with his arm about her, they werestartlingly rung out of the way by a cyclist who had come on themunawares. It was Tommy who had neglected to light his lamp, as thenight, though dark, was clear and starry and municipal regulations werelax.
"Do you think he recognised us?" Mrs. Fox asked anxiously.
"Without a doubt," Jack spoke with annoyance.
"But it's only Tommy and you are his friend. He won't give us away." Shehad no idea of the shame and embarrassment that Jack suffered at thethought that he had given his chum ocular proof of his folly, for Tommyhad confessed that he despised Mrs. Fox, and that he had encouragedBobby Smart to break away from her clutches. That there was truth in thegossip concerning Mrs. Fox and young Smart he could no longer doubt, butthis made very little difference to him. As matters stood, he wascommitted and could not go back. Nor did he wish to. At least Tommy wasloyal and would not give him away to the Station. Thoughts of theStation brought thoughts of Mrs. Meredith and Honor Bright whosegood-fellowship he valued. Honor stood for all that was best inwomanhood, and to be worthy of her companionship a man had to be asstraight as a die. Joyce Meredith was "not in the same boat," thoughshe, too, was a "bit of 'All-right.'" Her sister--? what chance had heof ever meeting her sister?--Jack laughed as he shook off a tendency tomorbid regret and bade Mrs. Fox a resolute farewell at her gate. He hadplenty to do preparing a judgment he had to deliver in court thefollowing day, and begged to be excused. Another day--perhaps----
Mrs. Fox fixed the day and parted from him tenderly, full ofsatisfaction at the success of her clever fiction. The accident whichhad occasioned the bruise had been of the commonest, but it had servedher gallantly.
Contrary to Jack's expectations, Tommy was not at all in the mood torag, being silent for the greater part of dinner. However, when thegenial influence of a whisky-and-soda had had time to work on hisspirits, the young policeman apologised for not having carried a lighton his bicycle. It was his way of introducing the subject which washaunting him with forebodings.
"That's all right," said Jack. "But as one whose job is to enforce thelaw, I should imagine you would be more particular."
"If that's all the law-breaking I do, I shan't come to grief, my son. Itis very different in your case. 'Can a man take coals to his bosom andnot be burned?'"
"What the devil are you driving at?"
"I get a tidy lot of wisdom out of old Solomon and I commend you to takeup the dissertation from where I left off. You'll find a good deal toset you thinking."
"Where am I to find it?" Jack asked with determined good-humour.
"Proverbs--sixth, twenty-eighth; read from there, onward."
"Thanks. I'll see what he has to say concerning such stupendous truths."
"I commend you also to try him for advice on seeking a wife," saidTommy. "It will help you to form a judgment. Listen:
"'_Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far aboverubies_'----"
"Blessed old cynic!" interjected Jack, adding, he had heard that before.
"'_The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her_'--mark the word,'trust'.... '_She will do him good, not evil all the days of her life._'I can't remember it all, there is such a lot. He goes on to say, '_Herhusband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of theland.... Strength and honour are her clothing and she shall rejoice intime to come_----'"
"Personally, I should prefer something more decent as a garment,"murmured Jack, while Tommy searched his brains.
"'_She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law ofkindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth notthe bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; herhusband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously,but thou excellest them all. Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain: buta woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of thefruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates._'"
"Is that all?"
"Isn't it enough?"
"And you mean to say you expect to find such a paragon of perfection inmodern times?" Jack asked, pouring out some more whisky.
"Till I do, I shan't marry," said Tommy.
"Here's luck to you!" said Jack raising his glass to his lips,unconvinced. "I'm afraid you'll live to be an old bachelor."
"I'm afraid I shall, though I have found her already," murmured Tommy.