[pg 117]
At Patalpur the winter gaieties were over, and the bustle16 of departure to the hills had just begun. A feeling of temporary leisure pervaded17 the English quarter of the station, and Trixie Coventry could enjoy the pleasant interval18 the more because the drawbacks of the coming months were yet unknown to her. India was perfect. How she loved the sun, the space, the colour, the friendliness19, and the novelty of her surroundings! Since her arrival she had revelled20 in a whirl of popularity; no one's party was complete without pretty Mrs. Coventry; her beauty, her high spirits, and the fact of her youth, contrasted with her position as a colonel's wife, made her exceptionally interesting. One or two "croakers" prophesied21 that it would surely turn her head, but the majority could not pay her too much attention.
Colonel Coventry bore it all with a fairly tolerant spirit. His work had been heavy, his leisure filled with unavoidable engagements that he recognised were multiplied tenfold because of his wife's perfections. He attended dinners, dances, at homes, but all the while he was covertly22 impatient for the lull23 to come, when he and Trixie might be more alone together, when she would settle down, of course, to months of domestic routine. With a certain relief he had observed that, so far, Trixie had given little time to the
[pg 118]
renewal24 of her boy-and-girl friendship with Guy Greaves, who seemed to have no special footing in her favour; and, indeed, Colonel Coventry found nothing to complain of in his wife's attitude towards any of her numerous admirers. She was indiscriminately gracious to them all, riding with one and the other, dancing with each in turn, laughing, chaffing, accepting their notes and offerings and adoration25 with a gay indifference26 that was unquestionably beyond criticism or gossip.
But now that his duties were slackening, now that he had more leisure to devote to his young wife, Colonel Coventry began to notice that he seldom had first claim on her companionship. She was so frequently engaged for rides, and for sets of tennis that she declared had "been made up ages ago, and could not possibly be chucked." And gradually Guy Greaves seemed to be more often her partner, and to be under promise to escort her on so many riding expeditions. To Colonel Coventry the young man now appeared to haunt the veranda27, to be always either calling for Mrs. Coventry, or to have "just brought her back" from something. Inevitably28, dissatisfaction began to creep into the husband's heart. He was not exactly jealous--that, he told himself, would be absurd. Trixie was so frank and open, and so clearly unconscious that she was doing anything to which
[pg 119]
anyone could take exception. Greaves was a mere29 boy, and, moreover, one of his own subalterns; and these facts deterred30 George Coventry from voicing his disapproval31 quite so soon as otherwise he might have done.
This evening he stood in the veranda of his bungalow32 waiting for Trixie to come home. Some regimental complication had called him away unexpectedly after luncheon33, and he had forgotten to inquire before he started as to her plans for the afternoon. Therefore he had hurried back, intending to suggest a ride, but the bearer informed him she had already gone out with "Grivsahib." They had driven away in the sahib's dog-cart half an hour ago. Coventry, in his annoyance34, imagined that the man's eyes held a veiled insolence35, and the little rasp of irritation36 that had worried him of late increased now to definite displeasure with his wife. He went off to play racquets violently; then, calm and more controlled, he had returned, rather late, only to find that Trixie had not yet come back. His anger rose again, but when he had changed for dinner fear also beset37 him lest some harm had come to her, and it urged him out to the veranda.
Darkness, that in the East drops like a curtain, shrouded38 the compound; fireflies were sparkling in the trees, there was a smell of hot dust and tired
[pg 120]
blossoms in the warm, still air that seemed to hold no sound. He waited, anxious, angry, on the steps, listening intently for the roll of wheels and the beat of a pony's hoofs39 on the hard road. Once or twice he thought he heard the sounds he expected, but they died away without coming nearer, if they had really been audible at all; and then, as he waited and listened, there rose sharply, cruelly, in his mind the memory of another night in India, many years ago, when, from another bungalow, in another station, he had heard the rattle40 of a dog-cart driving swiftly into the adjoining compound. He became conscious of the scent5 of violets. In desperate resentment41 he moved forward to try and free himself from this spell of hideous42 recollection, and as he moved his foot struck against a flower-pot. He realised then that it was a pot of violets, and viciously he kicked it over the plinth of the veranda, and heard it smash to pieces as it fell.
The next moment Trixie and young Greaves drove in at the compound gate, laughing, and Trixie called out as the trap drew up before the steps: "Did you think we were lost, George?" She sprang lightly to the ground before he could descend43 to help her. "We are late, but we've had a lovely time. Won't you come in, Guy, and have a drink?"
[pg 121]
"Not to-night, thanks." Then the boyish voice was raised in respectful apology: "So sorry, sir, but we couldn't help it. Mrs. Coventry will explain."
Trixie stood by her husband's side as the dog-cart turned to leave the compound, and she called after the retreating vehicle: "Don't forget the first time there's a moon!" And an answering shout came back: "All right! Good-night!"
She laid her hand on Coventry's arm. "You haven't been fidgeting, have you, George?"
There was no answer. He stood rigid44, unresponsive.
"What's the matter? Are you cross?"
"I thought something must have happened to you," he said stiffly.
"Why, what could have happened? I was quite safe with Guy."
"Mr. Greaves," he corrected.
She laughed. "What nonsense! I've always called him Guy. Why should I begin 'mister-ing' him now? Come along in; I'm so hungry." She chattered45 on happily. "We went on the river and rowed for miles. It was simply lovely. We saw crocodiles, and a funeral pyre on the bank, with the relations all standing46 round and the smoke curling up. And then we landed and got into a grove47 full of tombstones. Guy said he believed it
[pg 122]
was an old Mohammedan burying-ground. So funny, with Hindu corpses48 being burnt just below it. What a mixed-up place India seems to be!"
"What made you so late?" he asked, following her into the drawing-room, that was bright and pretty with lamplight and wedding presents and chintz-covered chairs, though it felt a little close and airless.
"Poof!" said Trixie. "How hot it is in the house! Do let us have dinner out of doors."
"We should be smothered49 with insects," he objected. "We can't dine outside without lamps when there's no moon."
"Directly there's a moon," said Trixie, "I'm going to ride out with Guy to that wood and sit on a tombstone and look at the river. And then we will tango--tango in and out among the trees."
She danced a few steps, singing, down the middle of the room. She looked so gay, so full of life and health, so pretty in her white silk blouse cut open at the neck, and her short drill skirt, and a Panama hat slouched over her forehead, that Coventry's anger melted to a sad regret. He had never felt quite sure of her, never certain that she cared for him; indeed, deep in his heart he knew that Trixie was yet ignorant of love; and he was tortured with the half-acknowledged dread50
[pg 123]
that out of some thoughtless flirtation51 with another man there might arise a primal52 passion that would wreck53 his life again and hers. To-night the memory of Rafella, and the dreadful moment of their parting, was so uncannily insistent54 that he felt as though he stood on the brink55 of another crisis--one that would be infinitely56 worse for him. He loved Trixie as he had never loved his former wife--a mature, strong love that held far less of self, combining almost a paternal57 feeling with the deep devotion of a husband. And now it was poisoned with a helpless, jealous sense of danger that he could not combat. It came between him and his desire to behave wisely, warily58, with tact59 towards her. His innate60 horror of gossip and scandal, his latent distrust of her friendship with young Greaves, added to the lingering influence of his alarm that some accident had befallen her to keep her out so late, held him harping61 on the question that she had not answered.
"You haven't told me why you were so late," he said.
"Oh, George, how you do bother! I don't know, except that I suppose we forgot the time, and then, driving home through the bazaar62, we got into a sort of block--a native procession, a wedding, or a festival of some kind. There was a tremendous crowd and such a noise--tom-toms
[pg 124]
and horns and torches. We were delayed, I should think, for quite ten minutes, drawn63 up at the side of the street while it passed. Guy got so impatient, and wanted to barge64 through the middle of it, but, of course, I wouldn't let him. We should have knocked down dozens of people. And, besides, I was awfully65 interested and amused. I didn't want to go on. It never struck me that you might be anxious."
She ran into her room to dress for dinner, and he could hear her singing softly as she moved about. He resolved to say no more about her staying out so late to-night alone with young Greaves. If it happened again he would put down his foot once and for all. Meanwhile, he would drop a hint to the boy that his behaviour towards Mrs. Coventry should be rather more circumspect66; and as to the moonlight expedition that Trixie seemed to contemplate67, it would be time enough to deal with that if she talked of such a senseless prank68 again. Probably she would forget all about it.
He made every effort during dinner to be amiable69 and entertaining, to avoid any subject that might lead to disagreement, and Trixie responded in her happiest mood. Afterwards they sat outside in the veranda, lazing in their long cane70 chairs, talking little, quietly content, until suddenly,
[pg 125]
from the warm darkness of the compound, there came a harsh and piercing cry that rose to an excruciating pitch, then, note by note, sank back once more to silence.
"Oh! what was that?" she asked, startled.
But it was nothing more alarming than the trial song of India's cuckoo, the bird that is no harbinger of hope and life and all the joys of spring, as is his Western cousin, but the token of a time of stress and strain and trial only to be realised by those who have endured it.
"A brain-fever bird," he told her. "If I can see the beggar to-morrow I'll shoot him."
They listened as the sound rose and fell again, this time farther off.
"India rather frightens me," said Trixie, "and yet I get fits of fascination71 that make me feel as if the country had bewitched me. It all seems so old and so cruel, and yet so alluring72. I felt the spell of it this evening on the river, and still more strongly when we were waiting in the bazaar for the procession to pass. That big city, full of people we really know nothing about, with all sorts of weird73 things happening in it that we never hear of. I think the bazaar is quite wonderful, but Guy Greaves said the smell of it was all that affected74 him, and his one idea was to get out of it."
[pg 126]
"The young fool had no business to take you through the bazaar at all!" said Coventry, with suppressed irritation.
Disapproval invariably spurred Trixie to truculence75. "It was the shortest way," she retorted with spirit, "and we were late as it was. How were we to know that we should be delayed by a procession?"
Coventry did not reply. He had no desire to embark76 on further argument with Trixie.
"I suppose," she went on idly, "there are no end of extraordinary stories buried away all over India. Do you think it is true that lots of white women were carried off in the Mutiny and were never seen again, or only heard of by accident?"
"I don't know," he said, with curt10 reluctance77 to discuss such a subject. "One hears all sorts of things."
One thing had been mentioned in his hearing only this afternoon, on the racquet court, that had filled him with disgust and horror--a whisper, a rumour78, that a woman, an Englishwoman, was living in a certain quarter of the bazaar. The thought sickened him. Pah! it was atrocious, if true. It recurred79 to him unpleasantly, increasing his annoyance that his wife should have been exposed to the gaze of a crowd of excited natives
[pg 127]
in company with a man who was not her husband. In his opinion, the less Englishwomen were observed of Orientals the better. His determination strengthened that in future Trixie should have no escort but himself.
He found it easy to carry out his intention for the time being. Young Greaves was laid low with an attack of malaria80, and afterwards he took a month's leave to join a rich globe-trotting relative on a little tour through native states. Trixie seemed quite content to ride with her husband and to have him for her partner on the tennis court. He rode extremely well and looked his best on horseback, and there were few couples who could hope to beat the Coventrys at tennis when they played together. Just then a small and select tournament was in progress, and Trixie held high hopes that she and George would win it. She coveted81 the prize--a handsome silver chain bag for the lady; and she meant to annex82 the cigarette-case as well that was to reward the victorious83 male partner. And George weakly promised she should have it if they won, though he disapproved84 entirely85 of women smoking, and hated to see Trixie with a cigarette between her red lips. All the same, it was a spectacle that had to be endured, for nothing he could say had yet persuaded Trixie to eschew86 the habit. Dances were in abeyance87 for the next
[pg 128]
few months, but there were little friendly dinners, and it was altogether a pleasant and congenial period, though daily the heat grew and brain-fever birds multiplied in the compounds, and people went out later in the afternoons and earlier in the mornings.
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1
languorous
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| adj.怠惰的，没精打采的 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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withholding
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| 扣缴税款 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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scorch
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| v.烧焦，烤焦；高速疾驶；n.烧焦处，焦痕 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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19
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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revelled
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| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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24
renewal
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| adj.(契约)延期，续订，更新，复活，重来 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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deterred
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| v.阻止，制止( deter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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32
bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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40
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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42
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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46
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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49
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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51
flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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52
primal
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| adj.原始的；最重要的 | |
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53
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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54
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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55
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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56
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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57
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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58
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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59
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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60
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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harping
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| n.反复述说 | |
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bazaar
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| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
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63
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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circumspect
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| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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prank
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| n.开玩笑，恶作剧；v.装饰；打扮；炫耀自己 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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70
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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71
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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72
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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truculence
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| n.凶猛，粗暴 | |
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76
embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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77
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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78
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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79
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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80
malaria
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| n.疟疾 | |
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81
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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82
annex
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| vt.兼并，吞并；n.附属建筑物 | |
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83
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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84
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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86
eschew
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| v.避开，戒绝 | |
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87
abeyance
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| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
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