by F. E. Penny
CHAPTER X
There was one subject alone on which Miss Wenaston and her housekeeperdisagreed. It had nothing to do with the management of the house. Itwas marriage.
Mrs. Hulver having entered the bonds of matrimony three timesconsidered that she was entitled to speak with authority on thecondition of wifehood and widowhood.
Eola Wenaston was twenty-seven years of age and unmarried. When Mrs.Hulver had reached that number of years she had been a wife for adecade, and had entered upon her first period of widowhood. Although aBritish father had done much to form her character, her Eurasian motherhad instilled certain opinions to which she firmly adhered. One fixedbelief, as strong as any article of her faith, was that every womanought to be married. It was the duty of relatives and guardians toforward that end; it was even still more the duty of the woman herselfto attract and secure the best husband available without immodesty.
Miss Wenaston she found sadly wanting in self-help. Dr. Wenaston, herbrother, was a very busy and sometimes overworked man. He did his bestin Mrs. Hulver's opinion when he invited men to his house. Hisefforts, conscious or unconscious--Mrs. Hulver was not sure which--werenot supported as they should have been by his sister. She made noattempt to attract in dress or manner. She was content to wear thesame dinner-dress that served when she and her brother were alone; andshe did not hesitate to allow Dr. Wenaston to absorb all theconversation if he chose, remaining silent through the dinner andperhaps through the whole evening as well. This was altogether amistake, as Mrs. Hulver tried in vain to point out more than once.Eola listened in perfect good nature, but her replies were notencouraging, and the housekeeper was vaguely conscious that she wasbeing kept in her place. She persevered however, and never lost anopportunity of putting in a word as far as she dared; but she alwaysfelt that there was a barrier that she might not pass.
A certain Major Ellingham appeared at Chirapore on his way to ashooting expedition in the Western Ghats. He was entertained by Dr.Wenaston for a week while the camping preparations were made. Mrs.Hulver devoted her attention to the catering; and with the assistanceof Ramachetty and the cook sent in such meals as elicited the guest'swarm approval. In the evening as she sat in her wicker-chair by theopen door of her sitting-room, she smiled as she heard the strains ofthe piano, and Ellingham's fine baritone in "Love's old sweet song," orsome such melody.
Nothing came of it, however; and the guest departed as heart-whole ashe left Eola herself. Mrs. Hulver's even temperament was ruffled by awave of annoyance as she thought of the enhanced bazaar account and allthe trouble she had been put to in devising dainty cooking. Onemorning she ventured to suggest to Miss Wenaston that Major Ellinghamwould make a good husband. Eola agreed readily enough.
"Probably he will pick up some nice girl by and by, when his head isless full of shooting big game," she said indifferently.
"He is not the man to care for a young girl, miss. I take it from hisappearance and general bearing that when he makes his choice, it willfall on a lady with some experience of the world, like yourself andabout your own age."
Eola laughed outright and Mrs. Hulver was hurt. A joke she couldunderstand, but ridicule was like a red hot iron, and she shrank intoherself. Eola saw that her mirth gave offence, and she hastened tosoothe and make amends.
"You need have no fear, Mrs. Hulver. He doesn't take my fancy, nor doI take his; so there is no likelihood of your losing me."
"It's not that, miss, which troubles me," the housekeeper explained."Gladly would I see you go as I went myself to the arms of a husband.It's the proper place for every right-minded woman. As William----"
Eola interrupted her with another laugh that she found impossible torepress.
"You and I don't agree on the subject of marriage and never shall. Iam single and you were very much married----"
Mrs. Hulver bridled and broke in upon her speech with some indignation.
"Indeed, miss! I was no more married than I ought to have been. Tohave been less married with my three husbands wouldn't have beenrespectable. And I am sure it has helped me along; I should have beena poor thing without it. As William--that was my second--used to say:'Humble wedlock is better than proud singleness. Marriage is like agood pair of boots to a woman. It will carry her through fair weatherand foul. If the boots wear out before their time the best thing to dois to get another pair.' He talked like that when I was hesitatingabout taking him. It was not the man himself that made me doubt butthe way he leaned. It was all towards truth and honesty."
"You are truthful and honest, Mrs. Hulver," protested Eola. "Don't sayyou are not or you won't be doing yourself justice."
"I have always shrunk from lies and thieving," admitted Mrs. Hulver."I never could stoop to low conduct of any kind. But there is truthand truth. As William--that was my third--used to say when I gave hima talking to: 'Lay it on mild, me dear. Truth is like a mustardplaster. It may be very good for the patient but you've got to becareful how you apply it or you may hurt your best friend more than alittle.' What troubled me was whether I could live up to the standardof my second."
"You might have been happier if you had not married him," said Eola,with a twinkle in her eye, as she controlled her lips.
"I couldn't have been happy alone with nothing to live up to and no oneto tend. I chanced it and found it quite easy. All I had to becareful about was to prevent anything from coming to his knowledge thatwas not up to his mark. I soon got used to keeping things smooth; andthere was never a married man happier than my second."
The thought of her success as William the second's wife restored hertranquillity of mind, and she left Eola to go about her duties in herusual contented frame of mind.
An Assistant Resident was the next person who all unconsciouslyfluttered Mrs. Hulver's hopes, raising them with regard to Eola only todash them to the ground again. It so happened that a man came to actfor six months whilst the permanent Assistant Resident was away onleave. He was unmarried, musical, and a great reader. Inclination andcompatability of tastes often brought him to the college either todiscuss new writers with Dr. Wenaston, or to try over new music withEola.
Once more Mrs. Hulver concentrated her attention and energy on culinarymatters. She had not been the chosen partner of three husbands withoutdiscovering how great a factor the food question is in the life of aman. She was able to quote from the sayings of all three on thesubject. The Assistant Resident ate such dinners at the college houseas he never forgot; but the way to his heart in his case was notthrough the stomach. Over the music and books he made a certain amountof progress; and had he seen any response to encourage him, he mighthave fallen into the belief that Eola was the one desirable woman inthe world for him; but there was no such encouragement. At the end ofsix months he went away; and it was Mrs. Hulver's heart, not Eola's,that sank in despair.
"Mr. Fressenden will miss you and the Doctor, miss," remarked Mrs.Hulver, austerely, the morning after his departure. "You have beenvery hospitable to him."
"I daresay he will," was the indifferent reply.
"He should get married. An Assistant Resident has to receive a lot ofcompany; and a house without a woman at the head makes a poor show."
"Our present Assistant has a very nice wife."
"It's a wonder that Mr. Fressenden doesn't follow his example."
"He will find a wife in time," replied Eola, as she added up the columnof figures given her by the butler that morning. "I make it half ananna less than Ramachetty. I must go over it again."
"He had better not be too long about finding a wife," continued Mrs.Hulver, determined not to let the subject drop till she had had hersay. "If a man waits too long he ages in looks and manners, and he isnot taken for himself. He may think that he is, for God deals outvanity with a liberal hand when a boy is born. But with a middle-agedman there are other considerations at the back of a woman's mindbesides love; like houses, for instance." She broke off shortly with alittle
laugh. "It tells on both sides for that matter. IfWilliam--that was my first--hadn't had a little property behind him, mymother would never have chosen him for her daughter with his darkcomplexion."
"Was he very much darker? After all I think Ramachetty is right, andthat it is my mistake not his."
"He was quite four shades darker than me; some people might have saidit was five; but that was his age. Being older than me he showed itmore."
"Yes, the butler has added it up correctly," said Eola, laying down herpen. "You were telling me about your first husband. It must have beena drawback to have had him darker than yourself."
"I am not so sure, miss, that it wasn't an advantage. William knewthat he was blacker than me by several shades, and that I was hissuperior in European descent. Both his parents were Eurasians. Withme it was only on one side, my mother's. That being so he never daredto cheek me or speak disrespectfully as country-born people are apt todo when they lose their tempers. It's a very powerful thing in oursex, is the tongue. I'm sure I don't know what we poor women would dowithout it. As William--that was my third--used to say: 'The tongue isa wonderful thing, Maria, me dear! It may be as sweet as sugar; orsharp as a lime; or as stinging as red pepper.' He used to add thatthe devil himself loosened Eve's tongue for her when she took theapple, knowing that she would have no chance with ould Adam unless shehad that advantage."
Yet a third prospective husband, in Mrs. Hulver's opinion, appeared inthe person of an executive engineer in the service of Government. Hewas highly favoured by the housekeeper since Delaine, her firsthusband, had been a subordinate in that same service. With renewedhope she flung herself into the campaign, and left nothing undone inthe commissariat department that might propitiate and lead on afaltering suitor.
It was all to no purpose. He departed like the other two withoutspeaking; and Mrs. Hulver in her vexation could not refrain fromunburdening herself on the subject at the first opportunity.
"When a man in the Public Works Department gets to be an executiveengineer he ought to have a wife. Mr. Fearing is just throwing awayhis opportunities by keeping single. He seems such a nice gentleman,too. There ought to be no difficulty."
"Except that perhaps marriage has no attraction for him," suggestedEola.
Mrs. Hulver stared at her in sheer unbelief. The man or woman sound inmind and body who did not desire marriage in the abstract wasunthinkable. Choice was another matter; many an individual deferredmaking his choice for reasons that might be good or indifferent, butwere sufficient all the same. It was impossible in her opinion thatany one could look upon the estate of matrimony as undesirable.
"Begging your pardon, miss, if I may be so bold as to say so, I don'tthink either you or your brother know much about marriage. Your mindshave not been brought to bear upon it. As William--that was mysecond--used to say: 'Thoughts are like guns; they are no use untilthey are trained on an object.' You haven't had an occasion to trainyours yet on to marriage. Now in my case they've been trained all mylife on matrimony, and I can speak with knowledge and experience. If aman tells you that he doesn't want to get married, you may take it thateither he can't get the woman he wants, or he hasn't made his choice.If a girl tells you that she doesn't want to get married--" Mrs.Hulver actually panted with indignation at the mere thought ofit--"She's--she's--well! she's a liar--at least she is in this country."
Eola's light laugh was the only reply to such an assertion, and Mrs.Hulver took herself off to her sanctum at the back of the house withthe nearest approach to wrath in her placid good nature she was capableof feeling.
Then Bernard Alderbury appeared on the scene, causing Mrs. Hulver doubtand perturbation of mind. He was a vigorous worker in the ranks of oneof the large Church of England missionary societies, a strenuous parsonwho held a charmed life against the many evils prowling in his field oflabour. He seemed immune to the effects of bad water, coarse food,poisonous mosquitoes and a tropical sun. His exemption was notobtained by disregard of the conditions of Indian life up-country. Onthe contrary he observed the greatest care in safe-guarding himself bythe use of such appliances as science provided. He took the minimumrisk and the maximum care and forethought. Aided by a magnificentconstitution and an endless store of confidence and hope that killeddepression, he preserved the health and good spirits so essential tohis particular work.
Wenaston and Alderbury were old college friends. When the missionaryspirit threw its mantle over the latter, Wenaston, by no means anirreligious man, did his best to persuade the other from--as he putit--throwing himself away on the colonies and hiding his light under abushel. A man of his abilities and private means should have differentaspirations.
Alderbury received the advice in his light-hearted manner, and assuredhis friend that going to India as a missionary would prove his ownsalvation and keep him out of the morasses of modern thought andcontroversy.
"I must fight some one," said Alderbury. "I don't want civil war; Iwant an enemy outside the pale of Mother Church. Hinduism seems to methe very thing, a noble and worthy foe; an ancient faith, a marvelloussystem of philosophy with a crafty degenerate priesthood. Doesn't themere thought of it stir your blood and make you tingle to be up andfighting? Grafting upon the obsolete creed something infinitelybetter, a glorious oriental Christ, soul-satisfying and sufficient, Whowill lift India's millions into a fresher and purer atmosphere of lifeand thought."
Wenaston glanced at the shining eyes turned upon him in enthusiasm ashe would have looked at the symptoms of an obscure disease. It was athing he could neither understand nor account for; but some instinctmade him hold his peace. If the man was right, well and good; if heproved wrong, he would find it out for himself. He forbore to commentor to combat the new resolve. Alderbury pursued the course he hadmapped out for himself, and in due time went to India.
Wenaston continued the student and developed into the school-master.When a vacancy occurred in the college of Chirapore he was asked if hewould accept it. Until that moment he had not thought of going to theEast. His sister, who had a great desire to see India, added herweight to inclination, and he decided to take the appointment.
Once more the two friends met, and Alderbury rejoiced in the renewal oftheir intimacy; for among other facts he learned that none pressed moreheavily upon him than the loneliness of the missionary's life, itsisolation and the complete absence of congenial companionship. Underthe circumstances it was not to be wondered at that he never lost anopportunity in his missionary itineration of spending a few days withthe Doctor and his sister. It was a little out of his way, but thatdid not matter. The holiday was the more complete since there was noduty within reach. The missions he superintended were in Britishterritory, beyond the borders of the native state. He would haveestablished work of some sort in Chirapore, but he was not encouragedto do so by his society nor by the Government of the State. Thesociety already had more than enough irons in the fire with an openfield in British India clamouring for yet more workers. But Alderburycould never visit his friend without casting envious glances at the bigclasses of boys assembled in the college hall. He would dearly haveliked a free hand on the platforms of the classrooms; however this wasnot permissible. One of the conditions attached to the appointment ofPrincipal was that there should be no attempt at proselytising; acondition to which Wenaston easily subscribed, since he had not even aspark of missionary enthusiasm.
Eola was of her brother's way of thinking. She too looked atAlderbury's work with something like detached curiosity. His energy,his whole-hearted desire to see India Christianised, his indefatigableand unceasing sacrifice of self, appealed to the instinctivehero-worship that is implanted in every woman's breast; but though shecould wonder and admire and was insensibly drawn by his personality,she could not understand the fascination that held him to his chosenprofession.
As for Mrs. Hulver she had her own reasons for disapproving of hisvisits, and it had nothing to do with his missionary zeal.Neve
rtheless she did not fail to provide a table worthy of her master'sposition. The food was substantial rather than recherche, nourishingrather than dainty. She had formed some fixed opinions upon thesubject of missionaries generally; they were deeply rooted andunalterable. As a class missionaries required feeding up; theirwardrobes needed the services of the dirzee to mend and patch and darn.She was puzzled more than a little when she found that Alderbury paidno particular attention to the food, and ate sparingly, with a distinctinclination towards daintiness. As for his wardrobe it was in bettercondition in some respects and needed less attention than the Doctor's.Not a sock required darning; not a coat needed stitching; and what wasmore, his clothes were not only new and none the worse for wear, butthey were of the best and finest description. The pay of a missionarywas known to be of narrow proportions, leaving no margin for luxury.It did not seem fit and proper in her eyes that he should be betterdressed than his host. That he possessed anything besides his salarydid not enter Mrs. Hulver's head; because if he had private means henever would have come to India as a missionary; he would have adoptedthe military service and been an officer in the army.
Alderbury came and went at his own convenience, never announcing hisproposed visit by more than a day or two, and never prolonging itbeyond the two or three nights, which gave him at least one completeday's rest, so essential sometimes to the worker for whom Sunday is thebusiest day of the week. How intensely the man enjoyed that day hishosts had little suspicion. Whether he discussed the latest theory inscience or religion with Wenaston, or the latest novel with Eola, itwas all pure happiness unclouded by a single anxiety.
Mrs. Hulver was the only person who was disturbed. The laughter of thehappy trio awoke no sympathetic joy in her. She was relieved when sheheard only the low tone of the masculine voices, indicating that MissWenaston was taking no part in the conversation. It was fortunate forher peace of mind that she could not see Eola's eyes dwelling on thelong figure extended in the cane lounge placed between her own easychair and her brother's; nor how she watched him when, carried away byexcitement, he pulled himself forward and even sprang to his feet thebetter to emphasise what he had to say. As he stood before them,speaking to the Doctor, but often turning his deepset eyes upon Eola,the girl thought of St. Paul. By what mysterious force was he driven?What fire was it that kindled in his eyes as he talked and made himlook different from any other man she had known? The Indian world asshe knew it was very peaceful; the people of the native State ofChirakul were notorious for their content and for the absence of allsedition and unrest. Yet to hear him talk one might be brought to thebelief that it was not a peaceful model native state, but an enemy'sland, a field for a deadly battle with a worthy foe.
Alderbury passed out of their little world as suddenly as he came in,leaving them slumberous and quiescent. Eola missed him, but Mrs.Hulver indulged in a sigh of relief. Much as she desired to see Eolamarried she drew a rigid line at missionaries. Not that missionariesshould be debarred from marriage. On the contrary, a wife was moreneedful in the mission house than anywhere else. But the missionary'swife belonged, in her opinion, to quite another class. She did notknow where the wives were bred. They were endowed with many admirablevirtues, and were eminently suited to be helpers to their worthyhusbands in proselytising among the heathen; but of one thing she wassure; there was a wide difference between them and Miss Wenaston.Their rambling bungalows had a certain amount of plain solid comfortabout them; and they made the best of the country fare that theirlimited salaries obliged them to buy, but there was nothing dainty ineither dress or food or furniture.
The large compounds in which their dwellings were placed containedoutbuildings where the natives gathered for instruction; both bungalowand compound were haunted with mild-looking converts in white muslin;their happy faces an indication that Christianity and the pastoralsupervision of the missionary agreed with them.
On the other hand who ever heard of a missionary's wife being invitedto the Presidency town to take a share in social festivities? Who eversaw, asked Mrs. Hulver, with raised eyebrows, "a missionary's lady" ata race meet or at a Government House ball? Miss Wenaston belonged tothe class that welcomed Viceroys and figured at races and balls. Thusit happened that after some of these flying visits Mrs. Hulver hadremarks to make.
"Missionaries are very good sort of people in their way. I oftenwonder how they can keep it up."
"Keep what up?" asked Eola, mystified.
"Their spirits and their belief that they are doing these natives good."
"Of course they are doing good, Mrs. Hulver," said Eola, as if she wereslightly shocked. The half-formed doubt occasionally slipped unbiddeninto her own mind but she had never put it into words.
"I didn't say that they were not doing good. I left it open. AsWilliam--that was my first--used to say when the native overseers hadtoo big a grasp on the profits: 'You can't wash a crow white nor expectanything of him but a croak.' It's the thought of the millions andmillions of heathen in India that is apt to stagger one. It's liketrying to empty a tank with a teaspoon. However, as William--that wasmy second--used to say when I was down-hearted about the way anythingwas going: 'You lay your brick and lay it sound and leave the rest toothers. No man ever built a church steeple all by himself and yet oldEngland is full of churches and steeples.' Anyway, I shouldn't like tobe a missionary's wife. I could dress up to it; I could feed up to it;but I couldn't stand the converts trapesing through the compound andhanging about the verandahs. I shouldn't feel as if the house belongedto me."
"Perhaps it wouldn't be necessary to have them there," suggested Eola,who read between the lines with secret amusement.
"Oh! yes, it would; it's their reward; their right," replied Mrs.Hulver with conviction. "Any lady that's suitable to be a missionary'swife makes no objection; but she must be, so to speak, born to it.It's not a job that would suit you, miss. As William--that was mythird--said when he heard that the Chaplain was going to marry theColonel's daughter: 'If the church mouse takes the field mouse to wifethere'll be a difference of opinion about the mode of living.' Youcould never put up with mission ways."
"You never did any mission work, I suppose," said Eola, turning theconversation from a subject she was not prepared to discuss with herhousekeeper.
"No miss; but my husband William--that was my second--he tried his handat it once, only once. He saw some of the canteen servants doing pujahto a stone image that stood under a tree behind the canteen. He wentup to them in the middle of the pujah and said: 'Boys, you're all goingto hell that way.' One of them that served the Presbyterian ministerspoke up and said: 'No sar! It's the Roman Catholics that are going tohell, not us!' William walked away without another word; and when Iasked him about it, he said that missionary work wasn't his job, andthat he would leave it to those who knew more about it than he did."
"It was very good of him to make the attempt."
Mrs. Hulver looked pleased at the praise and approbation of thedeparted William the second.
"He was a right-minded man about everything, loyal to his God and hisKing; and he was the father of my only child."
