The Witness for the Defense | Page 7

very last word upon
the native Principalities of Central India. Oh, Stella was to be
congratulated! And Mrs. Carruthers, in her fine mansion on Malabar
Hill, breathed a sigh of envy at the position of the wife of a high
official of the British Raj.
Thresk looked over again to the portrait on the piano.
"I am very glad," he said cordially as once more he rose.

"But you shall sit next to Mrs. Repton to-night," said Mrs. Carruthers.
"And she will tell you more."
"Thank you," answered Thresk. "I only wished to know that things are
going well with Mrs. Ballantyne--that was all."
CHAPTER IV
JANE REPTON
Mrs. Carruthers kept her promise. She went in herself with Henry
Thresk, as she had always meant to do, but she placed Mrs. Repton
upon his left just round the bend of the table. Thresk stole a glance at
her now and then as he listened to the rippling laughter of his hostess
during the first courses. She was a tall woman and rather stout, with a
pleasant face and a direct gaze. Thresk gave her the age of thirty-five
and put her down as a cheery soul. Whether she was more he had to
wait to learn with what patience he could. He was free to turn to her at
last and he began without any preliminaries.
"You know a friend of mine," he said.
"I do?"
"Yes."
"Who is it?"
"Mrs. Ballantyne."
He noticed at once a change in Mrs. Repton. The frankness disappeared
from her face; her eyes grew wary.
"I see," she said slowly. "I was wondering why I was placed next to
you, for you are the lion of the evening and there are people here of
more importance than myself. I knew it wasn't for my beaux yeux."
She turned again to Thresk.

"So you know my Stella?"
"Yes. I knew her in England before she came out here and married. I
have not, of course, seen her since. I want you to tell me about her."
Mrs. Repton looked him over with a careful scrutiny.
"Mrs. Carruthers has no doubt told you that she married very well."
"Yes; and that Ballantyne is a remarkable man," said Thresk.
Mrs. Repton nodded.
"Very well then?" she said, and her voice was a challenge.
"I am not contented," Thresk replied. Mrs. Repton turned her eyes to
her plate and said demurely:
"There might be more than one reason for that."
Thresk abandoned all attempt to fence with her. Mrs. Repton was not of
those women who would lightly give their women-friends away. Her
phrase "my Stella" had, besides, revealed a world of love and
championship. Thresk warmed to her because of it. He threw reticence
to the winds.
"I am going to give you the real reason, Mrs. Repton. I saw her
photograph this afternoon on Mrs. Carruthers' piano, and it left me
wondering whether happiness could set so much character in a woman's
face."
Mrs. Repton shrugged her shoulders.
"Some of us age quickly here."
"Age was not the new thing which I read in that photograph."
Mrs. Repton did not answer. Only her eyes sounded him. She seemed
to be judging the stuff of which he was made.

"And if I doubted her happiness this afternoon I must doubt it still more
now," he continued.
"Why?" exclaimed Mrs. Repton.
"Because of your reticence, Mrs. Repton," he answered. "For you have
been reticent. You have been on guard. I like you for it," he added with
a smile of genuine friendliness. "May I say that? But from the first
moment when I mentioned Stella Ballantyne's name you shouldered
your musket."
Mrs. Repton neither denied nor accepted his statement. She kept
looking at him and away from him as though she were still not sure of
him, and at times she drew in her breath sharply, as though she had
already taken upon herself some great responsibility and now regretted
it. In the end she turned to him abruptly.
"I am puzzled," she cried. "I think it's strange that since you are Stella's
friend I knew nothing of that friendship--nothing whatever."
Thresk shrugged his shoulders.
"It is years since we met, as I told you. She has new interests."
"They have not destroyed the old ones. We remember home things out
here, all of us. Stella like the rest. Why, I thought that I knew her whole
life in England, and here's a definite part of it--perhaps a very important
part--of which I am utterly ignorant. She has spoken of many friends to
me; of you never. I am wondering why."
She spoke obviously without any wish to hurt. Yet the words did hurt.
She saw Thresk redden as she uttered them, and a swift wild hope
flamed like a rose