"To some extent perhaps it was," Frank Mallett laughed. "Bertha
Greendale is an old chum of mine. I knew her in very short frocks,
for they were near neighbours of ours in the country; and her
father, Sir John, was always one of my kindest friends. She was a
slip of a girl when I went out to India, and though I thought that
she would turn out pretty, I certainly did not expect she would be
anything like as good looking as she is. She was always a nice
girl, and success so far has not spoiled her.
"Then there is a Miss Sinclair, a great friend of Bertha's; and
Jack Hawley of the Guards. I knew him out in the Crimea. The other
two are Wilson, who is a clever young barrister, and a particularly
pleasant fellow; and his wife, who is a sister of Miss Sinclair; so
I think there are the elements of a pleasant party. All the ladies
are broken into smoke, for Sir John smoked, and so does Wilson; so
that you won't be expected to go forward, as they do on the P and
O, whenever you want to enjoy your favourite pipe."
"That is a comfort, anyhow, Mallett. If there is one thing in the
world I hate, it is having to go and hunt about for some place to
smoke in; and I never accept an invitation to any shooting party
unless I know beforehand that smoking is allowed. At what time do
you expect the others?"
"They will be down at half-past twelve; they are all coming by the
same train, and it was because I knew that you would want to be in
a smoking carriage that I told you to come down by the earlier one.
And, besides, I thought it well to get you here first. You are the
only stranger, as it were. The others are all intimate with each
other, and it was as well to post you as to their various
relationships."
"One thing, Mallett. I hope Lady Greendale is not in any way a
marrying woman. I am not like Mr. Pickwick, afraid of widows, and
have perfect confidence in my power to resist temptation; but at
the same time it makes all the difference in the world to one's
comfort. I am not ass enough to suppose that Lady Greendale would
even dream for a moment of setting her cap at a Colonel on half
pay, but if a woman is in the marrying line she always expects a
certain amount of what you may call delicate attention. It is her
daily bread, for she considers that unless every man she comes
across evinces a certain amount of admiration, it is a sign that
her charms are on the wane, and her chances growing more and more
remote."
Mallett laughed. "You can set your mind at ease, for nothing is
further from the thoughts of Lady Greendale than re-marriage. She
was very happy with her husband."
"The more reason for her marrying again," the Colonel said. "A
woman who has been happy with her husband is apt to get the idea
into her head that every man will make a good husband; and a
confoundedly mistaken idea it is. She is much more likely to marry
again than the woman who has had a hard time of it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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