The Keeper of the Door Part 89

Why he had decided to grace the occasion with his presence was a matter for conjecture. Owing possibly to his habitual reticence, he was no favourite with the English portion of the community. Daisy Musgrave had nicknamed him Bluebeard long since, and Peggy firmly believed that somewhere in the depths of the Rajah's Palace this old man kept his chamber of horrors.

"What on earth has he come for, Nick?" murmured Olga, as they found places in the pavilion.

Nick laughed, a baffling laugh. "I asked him to come," he said.

"You, Nick! Why?"

He frowned at her. "Don't ask questions, little girl! Ah, that's a fine pony down there! Ye G.o.ds! What wouldn't I give to have another fling at the game!"

"Oh, but you never must!" said Olga quickly. "I couldn't bear you to take that risk indeed."

"You'd like to wrap me up in cotton-wool and seal me in a safe," laughed Nick.

"No; but, Nick, you are so reckless," she said, with loving eyes upon him. "It would be madness, wouldn't it, Max?"

Max's shrewd look rested for a moment on his host. "Little G.o.ds sometimes accomplish what mere mortals would never dream of attempting,"

he said. "How soon do you expect to be Viceroy, Nick?"

"Oh, not for a year or two," said Nick. "I haven't talked it over with my wife yet. There's no knowing. She may object. Wives are sometimes hard to please, you know." He flung a humorous glance at Max, and turned to leave them. "You will excuse me, I am sure, with the utmost pleasure.

I am going to play spelicans with Kobad s.h.i.+kan."

He was gone, and Olga turned to Max, smiling somewhat uneasily. "I wish he wouldn't," she said.

"What? Play spelicans? I should think he might prove as great an adept at that as walking the tight rope," said Max. "Ah, here comes your friend Mrs. Musgrave! She went home and told her husband this morning that I was the most objectionable young man she had ever met."

Olga's eyes widened with indignation. "Max, I'm sure she didn't, and if she did it was entirely your own fault. I believe you wanted her to think so."

"Some people have an antipathy to red hair," observed Max. "You had yourself at one time, I believe. Hullo! Is that our gallant Noel in polo-kit? What a magnificent spectacle!"

It was Noel following Daisy, whose rickshaw he had just spied, and bearing the proud Peggy on his shoulder.

He came straight to Olga, smiling with supreme ease, lowered Peggy from her perch, and dropped into the vacant seat beside her. Daisy pa.s.sed on with a smile to join the Bradlaws. Peggy remained, glued to her hero's side.

"I say," said Noel, "I hope you haven't been thinking me beastly rude, Olga. I've been wis.h.i.+ng you happiness with all my heart all the morning, but I simply couldn't get round to tell you so."

It was charmingly spoken. Her hand lay in his while he said it. He did not seem to observe his brother on her other side. But Peggy observed him and clung to Noel's shoulder with wide, fascinated eyes fixed upon the stranger.

"Noel," cut in the high, baby voice, "isn't that an ugly man? Who's that ugly man, Noel?"

Noel squeezed Olga's hand and set it free to lift the small questioner to his knee.

"That handsome gentleman, Peggy, is my brother, and he is going to marry this pretty lady--whom you know. Any more questions?"

Peggy stared at Olga very seriously. "Do you want to marry him, Miss Ratcliffe?" she asked.

"Of course she does," said Max. "Everyone wants to marry me. It's a sort of disease that spreads like the plague."

Peggy's eyes returned to him and fixed him with grave attention.

"I don't want to marry you," she announced with absolute decision.

"You'd rather have the plague, eh?" suggested Noel.

"No," said Peggy, and turned to him with her sweet, adoring smile. "But I'm goin' to marry you; aren't I, Noel?"

"Hear, hear!" said Noel with enthusiasm.

"Highly suitable," said Max.

"I hope you will both be very happy," said Olga, with a touch of earnestness that she emphasized with a secret pressure of Noel's arm.

"We shall be as happy as the day is long," said Noel, smiling straight into her eyes. "Now, little sweetheart," turning to Peggy, "I must be off. We've got some tough work in front of us."

"I hope you'll win," said Olga.

He stood up, looking very straight and handsome. His dark eyes, laughing downwards, seemed to challenge her to detect any shadow of disappointment in them.

"Win! Why, of course we shall. We're going to lick Akbar & Co. into the middle of next week--for the honour of the Regiment and Badgers."

He cast an impudent glance over his shoulder towards his commanding officer, with whom, however, he was a supreme favourite; smiled again at Olga while wholly over-looking Max, then swung around on his heel and departed.

Peggy stood for a moment watching him go, then with sudden resolution put aside the arm Olga had pa.s.sed around her and ran after him.

"Highly suitable," Max said again.

Olga turned to him. "That's what Nick says. But it's such a long while for him to wait, poor boy."

"That wouldn't hurt him," said Max. "Do him all the good in the world, in fact. He's too much of a spoilt darling at present."

"Oh, Max, how can you say so? He is so splendid."

Max's mouth curved downwards. He said nothing.

"Max!" Olga's voice was anxious; it held a hint of pleading also, "you haven't--quarrelled, have you?"

Max turned deliberately and looked at her. "I never quarrel," he said.

"But you don't seem to be on very good terms," she said.

"The boy is such a puppy," Max said.

"Oh, he isn't!" she protested, flus.h.i.+ng swiftly and very hotly. "He--he is the very nicest boy I know."

He laughed a little. "I believe you would have married him if I hadn't come along just in time."

Olga turned her burning face to the field. She was silent for a s.p.a.ce, studying the mixed crowd a.s.sembled there, till, feeling his eyes persistently upon her, she was at length impelled to speak.

"It is quite possible," she said in a low voice.