At the bottom of her torpid, selfish soul she
was bitterly hurt and disappointed, as those people always are who
have hurt and disappointed others their whole lives, and only a
glimmer of hope that Beatrice's determination might have softened made
her hesitate at the door and glance back. Beatrice sat just as she had
sat the whole evening, in an attitude of moody thought, her fingers
still playing with the blood-red ruby, and Mrs. Cary went out,
slamming the door violently after her.
In consequence of her long and futile appeal, Mrs. Cary had made
herself very late, and when she entered the large marquee which
Travers had had erected in his garden she found that all the guests
had arrived, including Rajah Nehal Singh himself. He stood facing the
entrance, and she felt, with a consoling sense of spiteful triumph,
how his glance hurried past her, seeking the figure which no doubt
above all else had tempted him thither.
The senior lady, Mrs. Carmichael, was at his side, and as Mrs. Cary in
duty bound went up to pay her respects, she added satisfaction to
satisfaction by relating loudly that her daughter had a slight
headache which she had not thought it worth while to increase by a
form of entertainment which, between you and me, dear Mrs. Carmichael,
bad taste as it no doubt is, has no attractions for Beatrice. Now,
anything outdoor, and nothing will keep her from it! She turned to
Stafford, who was standing with Lois close at hand.
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