The Road to Mandalay | Page 3

the new-comers were well-to-do; and after
allowing a reasonable time for the strangers to settle down, the

neighbours called.
By and by these calls were returned by Mrs. Shafto in a smart victoria
and a still smarter costume; her husband was merely represented by a
neatly printed card, which bore the name of "Mr. Edward Shafto,
Athenaeum Club." Mr. Edward Shafto was rarely to be met beyond his
grounds and garden, unless driving through the village to Bricklands
railway station, en route for London. He did not sit on the Bench, nor
was he a churchwarden, the usual grounds of meeting. When
encountered he was invariably agreeable and had charming easy
manners, but not much to say for himself, and his acquaintance, like the
farmers and the claret, got "no forrarder." Gradually the painful truth
was accepted that Shafto did not care to know people. He never dined
out, he did not shoot or hunt, but it was mysteriously whispered that
"he wrote." What, no one precisely knew, but one fact was common
property: he was fond of horticulture and the once famous gardens of
"Littlecote" had been delightfully restored.
If Tadpool was held at arm's length by Edward Shafto, the community
had no difficulty in making acquaintance with his consort, a pretty
vivacious lady who accepted all invitations, and herself gave tennis
parties, bridge parties, luncheons and teas. For some time the
neighbourhood was disposed to like her, although perhaps she was not
quite "off the top shelf," a little too demonstrative, loud and unreserved;
then by degrees Mrs. Shafto fell into disfavour; quiet folk were afraid
of her, she enjoyed repeating ill-natured remarks, was capricious in her
likes and dislikes, made a good deal of mischief, and separated chief
friends.
The lady was not disposed to be reticent respecting her family affairs;
there was something satisfactory in this! People learned that her
husband was really a Shafto of Shafton, and also that his elder brother,
who actually reigned in the family place, was "a brute." She volubly
explained that they had deserted the Border and moved south, partly
because "the pater" wished to be within easy reach of London, his Club
and musty old libraries, and also because it was more convenient for
Douglas, who was at Winchester.

Then gradually it came to pass that the village bored the new-comer;
bored her to death. She became restless and quarrelsome, had a
coolness with the vicarage regarding a pew, with Mrs. Tremenheere at
the Park about a housemaid, and actually cut Mrs. General Finch
"dead" in the village post office, owing to a mislaid visiting-card. At
the end of three years Lucilla Shafto had embroiled herself with almost
everyone in her immediate vicinity, and found her true level and most
congenial companions in the busy bustling town of Bricklands, a
rapidly growing and prosperous mushroom place, situated thirty miles
south of London, and within two miles of our ancient and respectable
hamlet. Here she belonged to several clubs, bridge, tennis and croquet;
enjoyed being a Triton among minnows; entertained a third-rate set at
"Littlecote," and joined gay little theatre parties to London to "do a
play," and return home by the last train.
Housekeeping sat but lightly on Mrs. Shafto's graceful shoulders, for
the Shaftos also possessed a family treasure named Hannah, an elderly
woman, who had been in service with "the family" and now managed
the house, and looked after the comforts and buttons of her master and
his boy.
Mr. and Mrs. Shafto went their separate ways, and were rarely to be
seen in one another's company. The lady assured her friends that her
husband's health was indifferent, and that he did not care for society;
for her part she liked amusement, excitement, life; whilst he preferred
to read, write, overlook his garden, and occasionally run up to London.
She did not trouble herself much about her son--a handsome active boy,
resembling his father in looks. Between these there undoubtedly existed
a deep affection. During the holidays they were frequently to be met
walking or riding together, and Shafto pére would so far emerge from
his retirement as to be a proud spectator at cricket matches in
Tremenheere Park and elsewhere. Douglas and two of the Tremenheere
boys were schoolmates, and he was in continual request at their home.
Unfortunately these visits were displeasing to Mrs. Shafto, as was also
his intimacy with the young people at the vicarage; and poor Douglas
had an awkward part to play. He could not avoid or drop his friends;
yet, on the other hand, there were painful difficulties with his mother,

who declared that he was a mean fellow to run after people who had
insulted her, and one day, when in a towering passion, she had been
overheard to scream "that he