Mr. Jervis, Vol. 1 (of 3)Croker, B. M. (Bithia Mary)
History
Mr. Jervis, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Croker, B. M. (Bithia Mary)
British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction
The natives who stood round, whilst the sahib and Miss Sahib ministered
so quickly and effectually to their friend, now changed their
lamentations to loud ejaculations of wonder and praise. Miss Gordon was
amazed to hear her companion giving directions to these spectators in
fluent and sonorous Hindustani, and still more astounded when, as she
took up her topee, preparatory to departure, the Eurasian turned to
him, and said in an impressive squeak--
“Sir, your wife is a saint--an angel of goodness”--and then, as an
hasty afterthought, he added, “and beauty!”
Before Jervis could collect his wits and speak, she had replied--
“I am not this gentleman’s wife; we are only fellow-passengers. Why
should you think so?” she demanded sharply.
“Because--oh, _please_ do not be angry--you looked so suitable,” he
answered with disarming candour. “Truly, I hope you may be married
_yet_, and I wish you both riches, long life, and great happiness,” he
added, bowing very low, lamp in hand.
Honor passed out of the hut, with her head held extraordinarily high,
scrambled up the bank, and proceeded along the line at a headlong pace
in indignant silence.
She now maintained a considerable distance between herself and her
escort; no doubt her eyes were becoming accustomed to the dim light,
and at any rate there was that in her air which prevented him offering
either arm or hand. In spite of the recent scene in which they had
both been actors, where he had clipped hair and cut plaster, and she
had applied bandages and scanty remedies to the same “case,” they were
not drawn closer together; on the contrary, they were much further
apart than during the first portion of their walk, and the young lady’s
confidences had now entirely ceased. She confined herself exclusively
to a few bald remarks about the patient, and the climate, remarks
issued at intervals of ten minutes, and her answers to his observations
were confined to “Yes” and “No.” At last Okara station was reached;
and, to tell the truth, neither of them were sorry to bring their
_tête-à-tête_ to a conclusion. The dazzling lights on the platform made
their eyes blink, as they threaded their way to the general refreshment
room, discovering it readily enough by sounds of many and merry voices,
who were evidently availing themselves of its somewhat limited
resources.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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