The Daughter of Brahma | Page 5

will, colour ebbed slowly back into his cheeks. The moment's rest "behind the scenes" was over, and it was as a dashing cavalier that he swung into the compound and drew rein at the verandah steps. A native servant lay curled up in the shade, apparently undisturbed in his slumbers by the sound of horse's hoofs, and the judge bent over in his saddle and tickled him playfully hi the ribs with his whip.
"Now, then, Josephus, bestir yourself, will you? No, it's all right, I'm not the tenth Avatar. Just help my mortal remains out of the saddle so, that's better. Ah, then I am expected!" He ran up the steps with the agility of a boy, one big hand outstretched, his square face transformed. "Do you know, I was afraid I had dreamt it!"
His hostess, who had advanced out of the shade of the porch to meet him, smiled faintly.
"I hope it was not a nightmare, Judge!"
"It was a day-dream," he answered, "and, alas, day-dreams have a trick of proving delusive. It took all the eloquence of my boy and my boots to persuade me that your note of this morning was not a pleasant trick of my hopeful imagination."
"Your boots?" she queried.
He looked down at the articles in question and then at her. His expression was ludicrously reproachful.
"My dear friend, can't you see ?"
"They are certainly very beautiful--"
"And an intolerable tight fit. Do you think I should sacrifice so much for my appearance to please any one?"
She laughed quietly.
"I accept the compliment, but come in. I have ordered tea in the drawing-room. You will be thirsty."
He followed her, endeavouring to control a grimace of pain, for the patent leather boots, following the laws of their species, had contracted. Once in the shady drawing-room, he chose the first strong chair and sat down with a sigh of relief.
"It will be some time before you get me to move again," he said conclusively. "I have suffered much, and I claim my just reward."
She seated herself opposite him, but close to the open window, so that her gaze could wander over the sun-scorched plain which undulated towards the hills. The smile hovering about her straight-cut mouth was contradicted by her eyes, which were grave and preoccupied.
"You need not be afraid," she said. "I am not so inconsiderate as to ask a busy man like yourself to call on me in the hottest time of the afternoon for the pure pleasure of saying 'How do you do'-- I have something serious to talk to you about, and I wanted to be alone."
The judge opened his small, blue eyes wide, but made no immediate answer, allowing the entrance of a native with a silver tea-tray to fill up the silence. During the noiseless arranging of the cups he took the opportunity to study his hostess with a frank and uncritical admiration. A critical observer would have admitted that she made a striking but not beautiful picture, though he might have been hard put to it to explain the latter limitation. Perhaps the exceptional about her was too emphasised; for the human taste has erected conventional standards in human beauty, to trespass against which may bring even perfection very near to the repugnant.
The woman seated by the window was, indeed, not perfect, but so nearly did she touch that high ideal that it was difficult to understand why, for many eyes, she was physically almost displeasing. True, it depended on the eyes. The ladies of Kolruna declared among themselves that there was something about Mrs. Hurst's beauty which made them " go cold all over," as they expressed it, but the newly arrived subalterns raved about her and wanted to marry her. Which was an innocent enough form of insanity, for Mrs. Hurst's attitude towards them was scarcely even maternal. As a consequence, they ended by calling her a "hard woman," and their admiration became tinged with a nervous respect. Her very height and bearing seemed to claim that much tribute from them. Her shoulders were broad and straight, like a man's, and suggested strength, though they were perhaps a little too out of harmony with her otherwise slight and fragile figure to be altogether graceful.
On this particular afternoon, her height was accentuated by her dress. The judge, who fancied himself a connoisseur in such things, would have described it as "flimsy," and waved his hand vaguely as a final touch to his description of the indefinable. The ladies of Kolruna would have said, "One of those wickedly expensive tea-gowns, my dear, with real lace!" and exchanged glances which would have given a fillip to many an old, half-forgotten scandal. In reality it was Mrs. Hurst who looked "expensive," rather than the dress. The slim, strong hands lying passively on the arms of her