Mr. and Mrs. Rayner soon perceived the ample form of their hostess. Their names were announced by a white-robed peon. Mrs. Glanton received the young bride graciously, and seemed gratified by her evident appreciation of the bright scene.
"This promises to be a charming gathering," remarked Alfred Rayner, shaking hands with his hostess.
"Yes, I thought it would prove a nice preface to the gaieties of the season. The Brigadier wanted a succession of dinner-parties first, but you understand, Mr. Rayner, the question of who will meet and mix cordially is always a thorny business, and after all the fatigue of entertaining, one often gets a hornet's nest about one's ears. So disagreeable to have people sulking at one for fancied slights, especially so early in the season."
Hester's face wore a slightly puzzled expression, but her husband answered vivaciously:
"That is so, Mrs. Glanton. In fact, only this morning I was explaining to my wife the Scylla and Charybdis of these social disabilities."
"Ah, I see you are wise, Mr. Rayner," returned the hostess, with a responsive smile. "One cannot learn one's lessons too early, one avoids shoals of quicksands later on. Oh, the tales I could tell! And now you will understand how pleased I am to have gathered Madras together for what I call my neutral party. I felt sure I was striking the right key."
"A very minor key, I should say, mother," said the daughter of the house, strolling up and lowering her parasol, then greeting the guests.
"Ah, my dear Mrs. Rayner," said Mrs. Glanton, "I am so glad that you and dear Clarice are friends. She has all the experience of her first season to share with you, and you, my dear, have your home complexion;" and she lightly tapped Hester's sleeve with her fan as she moved aside to greet new relays of guests.
Clarice Glanton had been reckoned the chief beauty of Madras during the last season. She had undeniably well-cut features and a graceful carriage, but though no older than the young wife, she lacked that indefinable air of youth which made Hester's chief charm. There was certainly no symptom of the "close friendship" between the two, and the girl's thin lips curled with a faint cynical smile as she heard her mother's remark. It had been her intention to pass on, being on the outlook for a guest who had not yet appeared, but now she felt it incumbent upon her to exchange a few words.
"I'm afraid you'll feel dreadfully bored, Mrs. Rayner," she said in her staccato voice. "The seats are full, the sets for Badminton, archery, and croquet made up for the moment. But there will be some movement soon. You are devoted to croquet, I recollect," she added, turning to Mr. Rayner; then her attention was attracted by a tall young man advancing along the crimson strip.
"Ah, this must be the gentleman my father met fresh from the steamer this morning and invited to join our party, charging me to entertain him too," remarked Clarice, her sharp eyes scanning the coming handsome figure with its easy grace.
"Oh, Alfred, here he is—here is Mark Cheveril," exclaimed Hester eagerly.
"Then you know him, Mrs. Rayner? Cheveril, yes, that is his name. Wherever has my mother disappeared to? I suppose I must act as hostess."
With a more gracious smile than she had previously bestowed on Hester, she went forward to meet the guest. After a brief interchange of polite words, on Miss Glanton's side marked by studied graciousness, Mark turned to greet again his old friend with a bright smile; while, with an air of nonchalance which surprised his wife, Alfred Rayner came forward to introduce himself, reminding Mark that they were old school acquaintances.
"In the dear old Hacket days, of course! How could I have forgotten that it was then your name was familiar to me! I remember your face perfectly. You are very little changed except that you were then in 'jackets.'"
"And you in Etons. I certainly shouldn't have recognised you, Cheveril, though I do remember some—of your talk." "Too well," he was going to add, but bit his lip and glanced at his wife.
"I expect I talked a good deal of nonsense," responded Mark with a laugh, secretly wondering what of his childish prattle still lingered in the mind of this sharp-looking man with his impassive face, who was saying now with rather a patronising smile:
"Well, I suppose we all live and learn." Then he added, with a neat bow: "Glad to hear you are to be our guest at Clive's Road to-night. We shall have an opportunity of talking over things new and old."
Miss Glanton, in her rôle of brevet-hostess, did not mean to permit more talk between two male guests, especially as she was desirous of monopolising one of them.
"May I introduce, Major Ryde, Mrs. Rayner?" she said, as a dapper-looking officer appeared, evidently with the intention of joining Miss Glanton. Divining Hester's disappointment on being separated from her friend, she added with a smile:
"Believe me, Mrs. Rayner, Major Ryde is as useful to the new-comer as a well-stocked 'Lady's Companion' to a housewife. He knows everybody and everything about everybody. I used to call him the young woman's best companion last season, did I not, Major Ryde?"
"I believe, Miss Glanton, you did me that honour last season, but I should put emphasis on the 'last,'" replied the major with a reproachful air. Then turning to his new charge, he piloted her towards the refreshment tent, which seemed to be the centre of popularity at the moment, to judge from the echoes of gay laughter and talk mingling with the jangle of tea cups and wine glasses which met them as they drew near.
"Now, Mrs. Rayner, seeing the creature comforts have been served, I must try to live up to Miss Glanton's character of me if you will put me to the test," said Major Ryde politely, as they left the tent. "I see there is no chance of entering the croquet lists at this moment." He glanced towards the lawn where more than one game was now in progress, elderly couples poising their mallets with an air of enjoyment, the crack of the boxwood balls sounding in the clear air as they were skilfully driven to their goal.
Hester had been an adept at the game on the home-lawns, but she did not feel inclined to enter the lists at the moment.
"Suppose we have a stroll among the shrubberies," suggested her companion.
It was among those very winding green paths that Hester had been hoping to be permitted to wander in company with her husband and her old friend, and to have the pleasure of seeing them welding together. But that would come later. She turned with gracious courtesy to respond to the amiable effort on the part of her escort and assure him that she had been longing to explore those green labyrinths.
"What a pretty effect all these gay uniforms give to a garden-party. I have seen nothing like this at home, and I don't think there were any uniforms at the only party I've been to since I came to Madras."
"Mrs. Teapes? You are right, Mrs. Rayner. I commend your discernment. That was a judge's house. In fact it is only at Government House, or on occasions when His Excellency or the Commander-in-Chief honours the gathering, that it is de rigueur to don our war-paint. Glad you think it so attractive! The younger men are getting lazy and prefer mufti when they can get off with it. I confess I think a well-made man never looks better than in full dress. Ah, here comes our Commander-in-Chief! Perhaps you'd like to wait and have a look at him before we begin our walk."
Hester saw an elderly man of gracious presence advance along the crimson strip to greet the hostess, his refined face lit up by a smile of singular sweetness. He was followed by his suite.
"Very glad the Chief has put in an appearance," continued the major, "Mrs. Glanton will be gratified. Very good of him to come, he is a weary man often—has seen much service. There is the Brigadier coming to greet him."
"What a fine pair of soldiers they look!" said Hester.
"They are all that," assented Major Ryde warmly. "Glad we've got a man for a Brigadier at last, instead of the little spinning-top we had, who couldn't get on his horse without his syce's back for a foot-stool, and even when