British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
“No, Mrs North, you’re right; I don’t. If we had both been hurt there
would have been no one with the slightest chance of catching up the
rascals. Whether she takes him or me in the end, I did save her, at
any rate.”
“Good,” said Georgia encouragingly. “I like that spirit.”
“Well, now you know how things stand. You see what an advantage the
Kumpsioner Sahib is taking of her gratitude and your kindness, and you
can guess how I feel about it. Tell me candidly, do you think I have
the slightest chance? Why did you say that you hoped I had not
understood my own feelings?”
“Simply because a waiting game is your only chance. Since you ask me,
I will speak plainly. You are younger than Mabel, you know; it is
undeniable, unfortunately”--as Fitz made a gesture of impatience--“and
Dick and I have got into the way of treating you like a son or a
brother--a very much younger brother. We haven’t taken you seriously,
and I am very much afraid Mabel doesn’t either. Mr Burgrave holds a
very high position, and he is a man of great distinction. We on this
frontier cherish an unfortunate prejudice against him, of course, but
elsewhere he is considered most charming and fascinating. How can she
but feel flattered by his homage? And he has undoubtedly acquired a
great influence over her; I can’t help seeing that. And yet I can’t
make out that she cares for him, and I have watched her closely.”
“Well, that is one grain of comfort, at any rate,” said Fitz
disconsolately. “But he is not going to carry her off without my
having the chance to say a word to her first, I can tell him.”
Georgia looked up anxiously. “Don’t throw away your only hope,” she
entreated. “What you have to do is to make yourself necessary to her.
You have been managing very well hitherto--always ready to do anything
she wanted. Make yourself so useful to her as a friend that she would
rather keep you as a lover than lose you altogether.”
“Oh, I say, Mrs North, you don’t flatter a man’s vanity much!”
“Yes, I do. At least, I am showing that I think you capable of a great
deal of self-effacement for the sake of winning her.”
“And if the Commissioner carries her off meanwhile?”
“I don’t think he will, provided you let her alone. But if you worry
her to have you, she may accept him just to be rid of your attentions.
And then there will be nothing to be done but to bear it like a man.”
“You don’t disguise the taste of your medicines much, Mrs Dr North.
I’ll chew the bitter pill as I ride, and try to look as if I liked it.
I was to meet the Major at the old fort at ten o’clock. It’s awfully
good of you to have listened so patiently to my symptoms, and
prescribed for me so fully.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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