A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian LifeRae, Janet Milne
History
A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life
Rae, Janet Milne
India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
The change, however, was effected, though Hester averted her eyes from
the mirror that she might not behold herself in the resplendent gem,
though she felt somewhat rewarded for her self-sacrifice by her
husband's gratification.
The long elaborate dinner seemed to drag endlessly, and it was apparent
to Hester that one or two of the guests looked bored. After the ladies
returned to the drawing-room, the "rankest" lady, whom the host had
taken into dinner, said to her with a pronounced yawn:
"I didn't like to ask your husband--but my dear Mrs. Rayner, what became
of the Collector of Puranapore? I understood he was to be your guest
this evening?"
"Oh, that was only a peradventure, Mrs. Grace. Mr. Worsley only arrived
in Madras to-day, and was engaged for this evening."
"Then he declined your invitation?" asked Mrs. Grace sharply. "And his
Assistant, did he also decline? I thought we were to have the pleasure
of meeting both. In fact, Mr. Rayner told my husband so some time ago."
She was about to add: "And but for that expectation we would have also
declined the invitation." But even the Mrs. Graces of Anglo-Indian
society have bounds which they cannot pass.
Observing the flush that rose to her hostess's face, she changed the
topic, though on her drive home she did not fail to remark to her
husband:
"That favourite of yours has shifty eyes, my dear. I don't like the man,
and he lured us to that dull party on false pretences. I discovered
that neither Mr. Worsley nor his Sub. had accepted the invitation to the
party--found it out from Mrs. Rayner. Sorry for her, poor thing! She
seems a lady, didn't even try to explain away her husband's snaring of
us, though I saw she felt it. And what an extravagant dinner! Why, those
flowers must have cost a fortune! And the things all came from
D'Angelis, I recognised his dishes."
"First-rate wine," remarked Mr. Grace in a plethoric voice. "Wish I
could afford such good stuff! Rayner must be a rich man. That feast
anyhow must have cost a mint of money!"
"And did you see his wife's diamonds too? A new acquisition
evidently--never saw them before. A little gold cross was all the girl
ever wore. I expect he was bullied into that expensive gift, or perhaps
she got it from some admirer."
"What cats you women are! Don't believe that girl could bully anybody
though she tried. To my mind she's the most ladylike girl about just
now. I felt sorry for her to-night. Her face had a sad look when she
wasn't trying to talk to that dull fellow who took her in. I don't know
where Rayner picked him up. I suppose he was asked to fill the
Collector's place."
The conjugal remarks as the relays of carriages swept out of the
Rayner's compound bore a strong resemblance to each other. The host and
hostess were also keenly aware that the elaborate dinner-party had been
less successful than any of its predecessors, though that knowledge
affected them differently.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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