she laughed.
He did not reply. He was still wondering why his name, Daniel, should have sounded so pleasant to his ears, and why the expression of silent understanding on Muriel"s face should have stirred him so subtly. It was as though their friendship had taken a leap forward.
He stepped to the side of the car, and put his hand on Muriel"s arm.
"Don"t get too tired," he said, "or you won"t enjoy your dance tonight."
"Are you coming?" Mrs. Cavilland asked him.
"No," he answered, "I have a previous engagement with a lady in the desert."
"Who?" asked Muriel, quickly. She was taken off her guard.
"A very dear friend," he replied. "Her name is Sleep."
CHAPTER XV-A BALL AT THE GENERAL"S
Lady Smith-Evered"s dance was a social event of much importance, and those members of the English community who were not invited had perforce to regard themselves as outside the ranks of the elect: a fact which led that night to much moodiness on the part of ambitious young women who wandered about their creditable little flats and houses, hating their mediocre husbands. On the other hand, those to whom invitations had come somewhat unexpectedly, vied with one another in their efforts to indicate that their presence at the General"s house was to be regarded as a matter of course; and herein, perhaps, lay the explanation of those curious demonstrations of nonchalance which were so frequently to be observed-the careless att.i.tudes, the friendly words to the servants behind the supper buffet, the a.s.sumed knowledge of the plan of the house and garden, and the casual remarks to host and hostess.
Muriel, of course, was the outstanding figure of the ball: not so much because of her looks, for there were many well-favoured young women in the ballroom, nor because of her charming frock, for the beginning of the winter season in Cairo is notable for a general display of recent purchases; but rather because she was her father"s daughter, and, as his heiress, one of the most frequent victims of the familiarities of the London Press.
She paid little attention, however, to the many pairs of eyes which scrutinized her; for she had come here to enjoy herself, and her dancing program was full.
As an opening to the ball, she danced with the General; but her efforts to avoid having her toes trodden upon caused her to indulge in such antics that she speedily manuvred him to a convenient sofa, where he puffed and blew until the military band had ceased and again renewed its conscientious din.
There are few noises so dispiriting as a British military band"s rendering of American ragtime; but, as has already been stated, Muriel was determined to enjoy herself, and, save for an occasional desire to sandbag the conductor, she was entirely untroubled by ill-humoured thoughts as her elegant partners swung her around the room, or led her out to rest in the illuminated garden, where a hundred gaily coloured Chinese lanterns dispelled the mystic sorrow of the moonlight.
After some two or three hours of dancing, however, she began to grow weary; and when something went wrong temporarily with the suspender which held up one of her stockings, she was glad enough to come to rest in the supper-room. Here she seated herself next to her hostess, who was just forming a big party at a little table, and who was jovially endeavouring to pretend that there was much fun to be derived from jamming oneself into the smallest possible s.p.a.ce and eating with one hand.
Lady Smith-Evered, having swallowed during the evening quite a lot of champagne, was in a talkative and even confidential mood. On several occasions she nudged Muriel, and whispered loudly to her from behind her fan, calling her attention to the General, who, at a neighbouring table, was flirting resolutely with Kate Bindane.
"He"s such a Lothario," she whispered: "I"m quite thankful he"s growing old; though, mind you, he doesn"t often show signs of age yet." She laughed hoa.r.s.ely, and turned her eyes upwards with a nod to express admiration for his virility.
Muriel, as she looked at her, conceived a violent horror of old age; and inwardly she prayed that in her own case she would know when to abandon the thoughts which only Youth can make beautiful.
"Women used to be mad about him," Lady Smith-Evered went on presently, still speaking in husky asides, "but I don"t think he was unfaithful to me, except, perhaps, when he was in India." She munched her lobster-salad in silence for a few moments. "One can"t blame him for that, poor dear," she mused at length. "Men will be men-especially in that climate...!"
Muriel turned away in shame, and at once caught the eye of Lord Barthampton, who was one of the party. He was staring at her from the opposite side of the table.
"Lady Muriel," he said, raising his gla.s.s to her, "Your very good health. Cheerio!"
Muriel thanked him, and busied herself in prodding at the food upon her plate which was a full arm"s length away from her.
"Do let me feed you," said the good-looking youth who was sitting beside her, and who had managed to ram himself closer to the table.
He picked up her plate, and, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g himself round on his chair, presented a morsel on the end of the fork to her lips. The intimate operation delighted him, and as he repeated it, Muriel observed the excitement in his face. It is a most dangerous thing to feed a woman: it arouses the dormant instincts of the Pliocene Age.
Lady Smith-Evered patted her hand archly. "You mustn"t let him do that,"
she whispered. "That"s the way doves begin. And look at Charles Barthampton: he"s madly jealous."
"Jealous?-Why?" asked Muriel, glancing at Lord Barthampton, who was scowling at her across the table.
"My dear, haven"t you eyes? Can"t you see that he is making a dead set at you?"
"Oh, nonsense," said Muriel, a little crossly. "I"ve only met him once or twice, and this evening I"ve had half a dance with him."
Lady Smith-Evered smiled knowingly. "He"s a very eligible young man,"
she purred.
"He drinks," Muriel remarked, shortly.
"Oh, but he has turned over a new leaf," her hostess replied. "Didn"t you notice he drank your health in soda-water just now? He"s a very good sort. What a difference there is between him and that extraordinary cousin of his!"
"There is, indeed," Muriel answered, with feeling.
The youth beside her had abandoned his attempts to feed her, and was excitedly filling his own mouth with good things, women and food being a.s.sociated ideas in his pristine young mind.
"Did you notice how he apologized to me?" Lady Smith-Evered remarked.
"Who?" asked Muriel. Her thoughts were wandering.
"Mr. Lane," she answered. "It was a great triumph."
"Who for? You, or Mr. Lane?" Muriel"s heart beat as she asked the question, for it was meant to be a blow in defence of the man she was beginning to regard as her good friend.
Lady Smith-Evered was too befogged to divine her meaning. "It was a triumph for me," she declared. "People generally find it better to be in my good books." She made a menacing gesture to the company at large; and three or four young officers, not quite catching her words, but judging by her expression that she was demanding their approbation, nodded their heads wisely. "But of course he"s not quite right in his head," she went on. "He has lived alone in the desert too much. Why, my dear, do you know what I saw him doing yesterday in the street?"
"What?" asked Muriel, at once alert.
"It was just outside the Residency," she said. "I was talking to him, when a donkey, left alone in a native vegetable cart, got its leg over the shaft and started kicking. Well!... He lifted the creature clean off the ground, got its leg back between the shafts, and then took hold of its ear and whispered into it: "Oh, you absurd ridiculous a.s.s!" It sounded quite uncanny."
Lord Barthampton got up ponderously from his seat and came round the table to Muriel. "The music"s started again," he said. "It"s our dance, isn"t it? Are you ready?"
Muriel rose, somewhat relieved to take her departure from the supper-table. As she did so her hostess again nudged her heavily.
"Just look at the General!" she whispered.
Kate Bindane turned round, and, catching Muriel"s eye, burst out laughing; while the General, finding his wife"s gaze fixed upon him, put his hand playfully over his face.
"What"s the joke?" Muriel asked.
"Sir Henry is telling risky stories," replied Kate.
"It"s all right, my dear," said the General, waving his hand to his wife. "It"s only the one about the little boy and the Sunday school teacher."
Lady Smith-Evered laughed huskily. "I"m glad it"s no worse," she declared. "Henry, you must behave yourself."