Authors: Juliet Armstrong
CHAPTER TWELVE
She wished fervently
as she tidied herself for tea, that she had never sought that interview with Allegra.
They
had, it was true, got down to brass tacks, and Allegra, by admitting her serious financial difficulties had, to a certain extent, put herself in Stella
’
s hands. Yet—had she? How could she, Stella, go to Jim and blurt out, “Your precious Allegra
’
s only marrying you because she
’
s up to her neck in debt. She
’
s just told me so!” Allegra might have to own up to her unpaid bills, but she would certainly deny most vehemently that they had any connection with her acceptance of Jim as a husband. The chief result, indeed, would be a mild reproof from Jim to a tearful and apparently penitent Allegra on the folly of running into debt—and a chivalrous determination on his part to put things right for her. As far as Stella was concerned, she would be regarded by everyone who heard the story as a malicious tale bearer in whom Allegra had been most unwise to confide.
No! Allegra had put no weapon into her hand that she could use either with wisdom or honor. It was she herself who had given Allegra an advantage by admitting her love for Roger.
The more she thought about the situation the more despairing did she feel. Without taking Allegra
’
s threat of suicide very seriously, she knew that if she insisted on bringing that old story into the light of day, and succeeded by this means of frustrating the forthcoming marriage, Allegra would do all in her power to involve Stella and the Fendish brothers in her ruin and disgrace. That had been her line of conduct five years ago, and since then she had become even more selfish and unscrupulous.
It
’
s nothing but a horrible, sordid tangle,
she reflected miserably.
And the best
w
ay to avoid turning all this
misery into utter tragedy is by clearing out of Ghasirabad
at the first possible moment.
At teatime she threw out a feeler to, Miss Jellings in this direction, but the old lady merely looked troubled.
“If I felt up to it, I
’
d arrange to leave for Rajdor within the next day or two,” she said wearily. “But honestly, Stella, I just can
’
t force myself to the effort. I feel that a long journey would finish me off.”
“
I
don
’
t think we should go to Rajdor, certainly.” Stella, looking at her employer, felt suddenly conscience-stricken. “We ought to get to one of the big towns, where you could have proper medical attention.” And she felt ashamed that the necessity of this had not occurred to her before. A nice nurse she was, agitating to move on for her own personal reasons and not troubling about her patient
’
s welfare! If she had not been so absorbed in her own affairs, she would have taken alarm before this and felt the necessity of getting a doctor
’
s opinion.
“My dear child, I haven
’
t the energy for making any sort of journey just yet.” The old woman
’
s tone was faintly fretful. “I must be allowed to stay here in peace till I feel a bit rested.”
“Then I
’
d
better write to Delhi for some of those drops,” Stella suggested, her heart sinking. “We
’
ve only a week
’
s supply, and it will take all of that time to get them sent here.”
Jelly nodded. “Write off this afternoon, my dear.” And then she leaned across the tea table and stroked Stella
’
s hand. “I
’
m sorry to be such a useless old hulk, dearie. I know you
’
re unhappy here, and if I could take you away at once I would. But, you see—” and two large tears coursed down her homely face. “—I just haven
’
t the strength. That dinner party—I was a fool to make the exertion and go! I enjoyed every minute of it, but I
’
ve felt a perfect wreck ever since.”
“Oh, Jelly... ” Stella began reproachfully.
But with a sudden change of mood the old woman smiled broadly. “Now tell me, if you like, that you gave me fair warning
!”
During the days that followed, Miss Jellings
’
s condition showed no sign of improvement. Rest as much as she might, there was no trickling back of energy into her tired
ol
d body; and Stella
’
s unrest at being forced to remain in
the
same town as Roger was gradually lost in her deep anxiety over her friend and patient.
There were many inquiries at the rest house, and though Roger did not appear in person he sent Hussein twice a day
t
o ask after the sick woman.
Stella, while not expecting either Roger or Allegra to call, was a little surprised at Jim
’
s failure to put in an
a
ppearance. The other two had strong motives for wishing
to a
void her, but so far as she knew, he was unaware of any difficulties.
She soon learned the reason, however. Hussein, who had entirely dropped his original hostility to her, and who
a
dded to his grave courtesy a hint of almost fatherly kindness, told her that the
memsahib
’
s
aunt and uncle had returned and that the
sahib
’
s
brother had gone to Bombay.
“I suppose he has to get back to his work,” Stella observed casually.
“That is so. And he has also to make preparations for his marriage. The house in which he is at present living is not grand enough to suit the wishes of the
memsahib
.”
If the old Muslim
’
s antipathy to Stella had died away, his dislike for Allegra had undergone no such change. It seemed, indeed, as though he hated the girl to the point of wishing her ill; for whenever he spoke of “the
memsahib
” it was with something approaching a snarl. More than once she had the feeling that he wished to say something of importance to her about Allegra, but with an inborn horror of listening to servants
’
gossip, she foiled his attempts; and soon, taking the hint, he contented himself with avoiding all reference to the other girl.
It was about a week after Jelly
’
s announcement that she intended to remain for the time being in Ghasirabad that some quite unexpected visitors arrived at the rest house. Stella was preparing some malted milk for Miss Jellings when through the French windows she saw three figures riding up the driveway. The next moment there was a general stir, every servant in the place hurrying out to the front of the building and making profound salaams.
“Their Highnesses the Raja Chawand Rao and Prince Prithviraj!” Muhammad Ali, coming into the room, gave the news with an air of suppressed excitement. “They have
left the orderlies at the gates, in case the sound of so many horses
’
hooves disturbed the
memsahib
.”
And then added in quite a different tone, as though it was a mere afterthought, “Verle Sahib is with them.”
“Sho
w them
in at once,” Stella told him, “and bring in some drinks; some sweet cakes, too, for the little prince, if you can find any.”
A moment later Chawand Rao was shown into the room, holding by the hand a small, bright-eyed boy dressed in clothes that were replicas of his father
’
s sumptuous garments. Behind them, looking rather nervous, was Armand Verle—his gray flannel suit in striking contrast with the gay velvets and silks of the other two.
She shook hands with both men, and then bending down put her arms around the child and kissed him affectionately. Without an instant
’
s hesitation the boy enthusiastically returned the embrace, then produced from a pouch in his waistband the inevitable packet of betel nut and shyly asked her to take some.
Anxious not to hurt his feelings, Stella helped herself to a fragment, but she was relieved when Chawand Rao said casually, “Perhaps Miss Hantley would like to put it on one side for a while. We want to chat with her, and it is hard to talk while one is chewing
pan
.”
The raja
’
s face was so radiant as he looked at her, she felt quite taken aback, but he said quickly in English, as if defining her bewilderment, “If more Englishwomen of your type came to India, how quickly the old antagonisms would die away. I watched you kiss my child—and the action was as spontaneous as though his skin were as white as your own. There was not a second
’
s shrinking—not a trace of disgust!”
“I should think not!” Recollections of the hints that had been given to her of Chawand Rao
’
s feelings toward herself made her speak with the impersonal crispness of the well-trained professional nurse. “Prithviraj and I are great friends, and now,” she added, as Muhammad Ali entered with a tray, “I
’
m going to repay his generosity to me over the
pan
and offer him some cookies.
”
At her invitation they all sat down—Prithviraj evidently intrigued by the novelty of sitting in a European chair
—
and Chawand Rao explained the purpose of his visit.
“
I
’
ve come first of all to inquire how Miss Jellings is
pr
ogressing,” he said in that curiously gentle voice of
his.
T
he worried look came back to Stella
’
s face. “She
’
s just
a
bout the same. There are no particular symptoms. She
’
s
si
mply suffering from mental and physical exhaustion.
”
He nodded gravely. “It must be a great anxiety for
you
—a heavy responsibility. You should not have to bear
it
alone.”
“I know I
’
d give a lot to be able to call in a good doc
tor,
” Stella returned wearily.
“Well, I think I can get hold of one—a Swedish mission
d
octor whom I
’
ve known for some years. He was desperately busy when I wanted him to come to Prithviraj—” md his hand strayed tenderly to his child
’
s shoulder
—
but the epidemic he was fighting is over now, and if I
se
nt a car for him I
’
m pretty sure he
’
d come—just for a
f
lying visit, anyway!”
“It
’
s extremely kind of you!” There was relief in Stella
’
s blue eyes. “But surely if you gave m
e
his name and address I could send for him myself. Miss Jellings isn
’
t a rich woman, but there
’
s money enough for that, I
’
m certain.”
“I should like to arrange it all for you,” Chawand Rao told her eagerly. “I can never repay the debt of gratitude I owe not only to you, but to Miss Jellings, for letting you come to us. Please let me do what I can.”
Stella hesitated and after a moment Chawand Rao got up.
“I will see to the matter this very day,” he said, “and now if you will excuse us, my little son and I must leave you. This is a holy day for devout Hindus, and there is a temple here in Ghasirabad where we must worship and perform certain religious ceremonies.” And then he looked across at Armand. “We shall be starting back for Bhindi about four o
’
clock, Mr. Verle. No doubt you will find plenty to do in Ghasirabad till then.
”
“Certainly, Your Highness.” It was the first time that Armand had spoken since coming into the room. “I will be waiting for you at the northern gate just before the hour.” The next moment Chawand Rao and his little son, murmuring polite farewells, were taking their departure; and when they had gone, Armand let out a great sigh of relief.
“Thank goodness for that. I
’
ve been longing to talk to you, Stella. You must be having a rotten time.”
“I certainly am,” Stella admitted wearily. “Still, if His Highness can get this doctor to come along, it will be a weight off my mind.”
Armand smiled. “I don
’
t mind telling you, in confidence, that the whole thing is fixed up already. Chawand Rao dispatched a Rolls-Royce this morning to fetch Dr. Erickson.”
“Oh, Armand, it
’
s awfully generous of him.”
The Frenchman
’
s smile deepened. “You
’
d certainly say so if you knew the fee he was paying—which goes to the mission, of course!” And then getting up and fidgeting around the room he asked suddenly, “May I plant myself on you for lunch, Stella? And afterward, will you come and have a round of golf with me? You used to say, when you were at Bhindi, that fresh air and exercise were a nurse
’
s first necessity.”
“But I have no clubs,” she objected “and if I had, I couldn
’
t use them. I haven
’
t played more than half a doze
n
times in my life.”
“All the better.” His face was eager. “I
’
ll give you a lesson. You can easily borrow some of my clubs.” And then seeing her lips shape to form a refusal he went on impetuously, “Don
’
t say you can
’
t leave Miss Jellings. Puts Muhammad Ali on guard outside her door while she
’
s having her afternoon nap. In an emergency he could always send someone to fetch you from the course.”
She hesitated; then knowing that there was little she could do for her patient in her present state—for Jelly spent most of her time dozing—and tempted, too, by her healthy longing to be out of doors and moving, she accepted the invitation.