Burning Sands Read online

  CHAPTER XV--A BALL AT THE GENERAL'S

  Lady Smith-Evered's dance was a social event of much importance, andthose members of the English community who were not invited had perforceto regard themselves as outside the ranks of the elect: a fact which ledthat night to much moodiness on the part of ambitious young women whowandered about their creditable little flats and houses, hating theirmediocre husbands. On the other hand, those to whom invitations had comesomewhat unexpectedly, vied with one another in their efforts toindicate that their presence at the General's house was to be regardedas a matter of course; and herein, perhaps, lay the explanation of thosecurious demonstrations of nonchalance which were so frequently to beobserved--the careless attitudes, the friendly words to the servantsbehind the supper buffet, the assumed knowledge of the plan of the houseand garden, and the casual remarks to host and hostess.

  Muriel, of course, was the outstanding figure of the ball: not so muchbecause of her looks, for there were many well-favoured young women inthe ballroom, nor because of her charming frock, for the beginning ofthe winter season in Cairo is notable for a general display of recentpurchases; but rather because she was her father's daughter, and, as hisheiress, one of the most frequent victims of the familiarities of theLondon Press.

  She paid little attention, however, to the many pairs of eyes whichscrutinized her; for she had come here to enjoy herself, and her dancingprogram was full.

  As an opening to the ball, she danced with the General; but her effortsto avoid having her toes trodden upon caused her to indulge in suchantics that she speedily manoeuvred him to a convenient sofa, where hepuffed and blew until the military band had ceased and again renewed itsconscientious din.

  There are few noises so dispiriting as a British military band'srendering of American ragtime; but, as has already been stated, Murielwas determined to enjoy herself, and, save for an occasional desire tosandbag the conductor, she was entirely untroubled by ill-humouredthoughts as her elegant partners swung her around the room, or led herout to rest in the illuminated garden, where a hundred gaily colouredChinese lanterns dispelled the mystic sorrow of the moonlight.

  After some two or three hours of dancing, however, she began to growweary; and when something went wrong temporarily with the suspenderwhich held up one of her stockings, she was glad enough to come to restin the supper-room. Here she seated herself next to her hostess, who wasjust forming a big party at a little table, and who was joviallyendeavouring to pretend that there was much fun to be derived fromjamming oneself into the smallest possible space and eating with onehand.

  Lady Smith-Evered, having swallowed during the evening quite a lot ofchampagne, was in a talkative and even confidential mood. On severaloccasions she nudged Muriel, and whispered loudly to her from behind herfan, calling her attention to the General, who, at a neighbouring table,was flirting resolutely with Kate Bindane.

  "He's such a Lothario," she whispered: "I'm quite thankful he's growingold; though, mind you, he doesn't often show signs of age yet." Shelaughed hoarsely, and turned her eyes upwards with a nod to expressadmiration for his virility.

  Muriel, as she looked at her, conceived a violent horror of old age; andinwardly she prayed that in her own case she would know when to abandonthe thoughts which only Youth can make beautiful.

  "Women used to be mad about him," Lady Smith-Evered went on presently,still speaking in husky asides, "but I don't think he was unfaithful tome, except, perhaps, when he was in India." She munched herlobster-salad in silence for a few moments. "One can't blame him forthat, poor dear," she mused at length. "Men will be men--especially inthat climate...!"

  Muriel turned away in shame, and at once caught the eye of LordBarthampton, who was one of the party. He was staring at her from theopposite side of the table.

  "Lady Muriel," he said, raising his glass to her, "Your very goodhealth. Cheerio!"

  Muriel thanked him, and busied herself in prodding at the food upon herplate which was a full arm's length away from her.

  "Do let me feed you," said the good-looking youth who was sitting besideher, and who had managed to ram himself closer to the table.

  He picked up her plate, and, screwing himself round on his chair,presented a morsel on the end of the fork to her lips. The intimateoperation delighted him, and as he repeated it, Muriel observed theexcitement in his face. It is a most dangerous thing to feed a woman: itarouses the dormant instincts of the Pliocene Age.

  Lady Smith-Evered patted her hand archly. "You mustn't let him do that,"she whispered. "That's the way doves begin. And look at CharlesBarthampton: he's madly jealous."

  "Jealous?--Why?" asked Muriel, glancing at Lord Barthampton, who wasscowling at her across the table.

  "My dear, haven't you eyes? Can't you see that he is making a dead setat you?"

  "Oh, nonsense," said Muriel, a little crossly. "I've only met him onceor twice, and this evening I've had half a dance with him."

  Lady Smith-Evered smiled knowingly. "He's a very eligible young man,"she purred.

  "He drinks," Muriel remarked, shortly.

  "Oh, but he has turned over a new leaf," her hostess replied. "Didn'tyou notice he drank your health in soda-water just now? He's a very goodsort. What a difference there is between him and that extraordinarycousin of his!"

  "There is, indeed," Muriel answered, with feeling.

  The youth beside her had abandoned his attempts to feed her, and wasexcitedly filling his own mouth with good things, women and food beingassociated ideas in his pristine young mind.

  "Did you notice how he apologized to me?" Lady Smith-Evered remarked.

  "Who?" asked Muriel. Her thoughts were wandering.

  "Mr. Lane," she answered. "It was a great triumph."

  "Who for? You, or Mr. Lane?" Muriel's heart beat as she asked thequestion, for it was meant to be a blow in defence of the man she wasbeginning to regard as her good friend.

  Lady Smith-Evered was too befogged to divine her meaning. "It was atriumph for me," she declared. "People generally find it better to be inmy good books." She made a menacing gesture to the company at large; andthree or four young officers, not quite catching her words, but judgingby her expression that she was demanding their approbation, nodded theirheads wisely. "But of course he's not quite right in his head," she wenton. "He has lived alone in the desert too much. Why, my dear, do youknow what I saw him doing yesterday in the street?"

  "What?" asked Muriel, at once alert.

  "It was just outside the Residency," she said. "I was talking to him,when a donkey, left alone in a native vegetable cart, got its leg overthe shaft and started kicking. Well!... He lifted the creature clean offthe ground, got its leg back between the shafts, and then took hold ofits ear and whispered into it: 'Oh, you absurd ridiculous ass!' Itsounded quite uncanny."

  Lord Barthampton got up ponderously from his seat and came round thetable to Muriel. "The music's started again," he said. "It's our dance,isn't it? Are you ready?"

  Muriel rose, somewhat relieved to take her departure from thesupper-table. As she did so her hostess again nudged her heavily.

  "Just look at the General!" she whispered.

  Kate Bindane turned round, and, catching Muriel's eye, burst outlaughing; while the General, finding his wife's gaze fixed upon him, puthis hand playfully over his face.

  "What's the joke?" Muriel asked.

  "Sir Henry is telling risky stories," replied Kate.

  "It's all right, my dear," said the General, waving his hand to hiswife. "It's only the one about the little boy and the Sunday schoolteacher."

  Lady Smith-Evered laughed huskily. "I'm glad it's no worse," shedeclared. "Henry, you must behave yourself."

  "She's egging me on," he replied, slapping his thigh.

  "Now then, now then!" exclaimed Kate, "none o' your sauce."

  Muriel put her hand on Lord Barthampton's arm, and turned away. She wasfeeling an indefinable sense of disgust; and she was glad to merge oncemore into the revolving mas
s of dancers, and to allow the brazen musicto beat the thoughts out of her brain. Her partner did not speak. He wasturning over in his mind the possibilities of future happiness, and theeffort absorbed his attention, so that his dancing, never of a highstandard, became atrocious.

  The only solution of his perplexing problem was for him to marry a richwife: then, if Daniel were to reveal the secret of his birth, he wouldnot suffer a knock-out blow. He would lose his title and the fortunewhich went with it, but he would have refeathered his nest, and allwould be well. And the partner with whom he was now dancing was anheiress, and a jolly fine girl into the bargain.

  He was making praiseworthy efforts to check the downward course of hiscareer, and ever since his interview with his cousin, he had been on thewater-waggon; but, even though his reform were complete, was Daniel tobe trusted not to dispossess him? He doubted it: the temptation would betoo great. What a dirty trick his father had played him! But he wasn'tso easily floored: he would obtain another fortune by marriage, and thenhe could tell Cousin Daniel to go to hell.

  "You're looking very glum," said Muriel, as they wandered out,presently, into the garden.

  Lord Barthampton braced himself. "Yes, I _am_ a bit down in the mouth,little woman," he murmured. "You know, even we soldier fellows get thehump sometimes--sort of lonely."

  Muriel glanced at him apprehensively. She saw at once that the moonlightand the lanterns had had an instant effect upon him, and she presumedthat he would now become sentimental. Self-pity is the token of a fool,and her feminine intuition told her that, since he was worse than afool, he would probably picture himself as a stern, silent Englishman ofheroic mould bravely battling against a deep and poetic loneliness.

  She sighed sweetly, for there was always something of the rogue in her."Yes, I understand," she whispered, and she pressed her fingerssympathetically upon his arm.

  His line of attack seemed to be justified, and he developed it withardour. "Sometimes a chap comes to the end of his tether," he went on,but paused again and squared his shoulders. "However, one's got to keepa stiff upper lip, eh? We're out here, far from home, just to do ourduty, so we mustn't grouse. We have to keep the old flag flying."

  "The dear old flag," said Muriel fervently, feeling rather a beast thusto play up to him, but excusing herself on the grounds of curiosity asto what he would say next.

  "Sometimes it's hard, though," he confessed, "and I'm afraid I've beenreduced more than once to the whisky bottle and baccarat and badcompany. Ah! I know that sounds weak," he exclaimed, as she uttered alittle squeak of distress, "but you don't know the temptations of alonely man, with nothing to do, cursed with wealth...."

  "O, but I can guess," she replied, intoning her words as though she werespeaking Shakespearian lines. "Sunday afternoons, leaning over theparapet, with nothing to do but spit in the river--why shouldn't youjoin in a game of chance, instead of going to church? I can quiteunderstand it."

  He looked at her in astonishment, wondering if she were pulling his leg;but in the moonlight he saw only a sympathetic girl, gazing into thedistance with an expression of saintly purity.

  "It's worse than that," he sighed. "A man has temptations that youcouldn't understand, little woman. What he wants is the pure friendshipof a girl."

  "An English girl," she murmured, with fervour.

  He bent forward and looked into her eyes. "Lady Muriel," he said, "willyou be a friend to me? Will you be my little English rose?"

  "Lord Barthampton ..." she began, wondering how she could terminate ajest of which she was already tiring.

  He checked her. "Please call me 'Charles,'" he begged.

  The music began again in the ballroom, and Muriel rose with alacrity."Come," she said, dramatically. "Let us go back to the gay and frivolousworld."

  "Right-o!" he exclaimed, brightly, inadvertently changing his tone nowthat the desired impression seemed to have been made.

  As they entered the house they encountered Lord Blair, who had looked inat the dance for the purpose of demonstrating the perfect agreementbetween the diplomatic and the military services, for it so happenedthat his own policy and that of the General disagreed on every occasionand on every essential point. He was standing in the hall, having justmade a parade of the ballroom with his hostess, and the latter was nowtalking to him, calling him "George" for the benefit of the guests whohappened to be within earshot.

  As the girl and her partner approached, Lady Smith-Evered whispered thatLord Barthampton seemed very attracted to Muriel; and she repeated herassertion that he was a very eligible young man.

  At this, however, a frown gathered upon Lord Blair's forehead, and hemade a deprecating gesture with his thin hand. He had other plans forhis daughter which, if not yet mature, were already in train; and, itmust be confessed, he wished Barthampton an early and comfortabledemise.

  Muriel presently wandered off with her chaperone, Lady Smith-Evered; andLord Blair thereupon suggested that her late partner should come withhim into the smoking-room for a quiet cigar. The heavy-jowled young manwas inwardly astonished at the mark of consideration, and the thoughtentered his slow-working mind that Lady Muriel's father was taking ananticipatory interest in him.

  The smoking-room not being open to the ordinary guests, the two menfound themselves alone in it; and Lord Blair at once took up his stand,as was his wont, upon the hearthrug, and made his customary pretence ofwarming a certain part of his anatomy before the empty grate. LordBarthampton, meanwhile, seated himself upon the arm of a neighbouringchair, and lit the cigar which had been proffered to him.

  "I'm afraid I shall never persuade your cousin Daniel to come to thesesort of functions," the elder man remarked, after a few casualreferences had been made to the evening's entertainment.

  "No, he's a queer fellow," the other responded, shortly.

  "I have the greatest admiration for him," Lord Blair declared. "Tell me,is he not your heir presumptive?" His words indicated only a politeinterest.

  "Yes," said Barthampton, puffing heavily at his cigar, and shifting hislegs. "But, of course, I shall marry soon--when I find the rightgirl...."

  "Of course, of course," Lord Blair replied. "Very right, very proper.But ..." he paused, "there is no hurry, is there?"

  "I'd like to have a son and heir," the other responded. "You see there'sa good deal of property involved. Luckily, I need not marry for money:I've got plenty." He was anxious to announce his eligibility.

  "Well," said Lord Blair, speaking out of the blacker depths of hisscheming mind, "take my advice, my dear fellow, and don't marry yetawhile. 'Marry in haste and repent at leisure,' you know--a very trueadage. You have a long life before you ... plenty of time, plenty, tomake your choice with care."

  "Yes, I'm pretty healthy," he answered; and Lord Blair looked at himcritically, hoping that he was mistaken.

  "Does the climate agree with you out here?" he asked, hopefully.

  "Well, I can't say I exactly enjoyed the summer," Lord Barthamptonlaughed. "A heavy fellow like me feels the heat."

  Lord Blair's spirits rose. "A little tightness, perhaps, at the back ofthe head, eh?" His thoughts were running on the possibilities ofapoplexy.

  "No," he answered, "but I'm always in such a devil of a sweat."

  "Yes, yes, very natural, I'm sure," Lord Blair murmured. "And a littleshort of breath sometimes, I dare say?"

  The younger man stared at him warily. He was wondering whether thequestions were those of a prospective father-in-law; and he decided thatit was his policy to show as clean a bill of health as possible.

  "Oh, I'm as sound as a bell," he laughed.

  Lord Blair's face fell. If apoplexy were unlikely to carry him off,perhaps there was some hope of kidney-trouble: there were ominouspouches under the young man's eyes.

  "Some people," he said, "find that they suffer out here from pains inthe small of the back--stabbing pains, you know, with a sensation ofburning...."

  "Do they, now?" the other replied, quite interested. "
No, I can't say Iever felt 'em."

  Again Lord Blair's hopes were dashed to the ground. He knew, however,that Barthampton was a heavy drinker, and he introduced the subject withmanifest interest, and with a disregard of principle which sorelytroubled him.

  "Doctors sometimes advise abstemiousness out here," he said, "butpersonally I think a little stimulant is a good thing."

  Lord Barthampton warmed to him. "So do I," he replied heartily. "Still,for the present I'm absolutely on the water-waggon."

  "Dear, dear!" muttered Lord Blair, fidgetting openly. "Dear me!--dearme! That's a little drastic, isn't it?--a little unnecessary?"

  "I don't suppose I'll keep it up for long," was the reply.

  "No, why should you?" Lord Blair commented, and the younger man thoughthim very broad-minded.

  The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the General, insearch of a quiet corner for a smoke, and Lord Blair, much dispirited,presently made his way back to the ballroom, and thence home to bed. Hisdaughter, however, remained till past three o'clock in the morning, andat last was one of the little group of enthusiasts which kept up therevels to the accompaniment of amateur efforts on the piano, after theweary band had dispersed.

  She traversed the short distance back to the Residency under theprotection of Lord Barthampton; who had managed by sheer obstinacy toobtain this office for himself; and as she said "good-night," to himupon the doorstep, he held her hand in his somewhat longer than wasnecessary.

  "I shall always remember tonight," he said, "as the first time I havereally got to know you."

  "Will you?" she replied, feebly, not finding any appropriate comment.

  "Yes," he answered. "Good-night, little woman. Think kindly of yourlonely friend." He came closer to her. "If ever you hear anythingagainst me from Cousin Daniel, take it with a pinch of salt."

  "Oh, I always rely on my own judgment," she answered; and with that shepassed into the house.