The Keeper of the Door Part 65

She sat down on his knee, and slipped a kindly arm round his neck. "I hope you won't be dead, Noel," she said, in the careful tone of one not wishing to be taken too seriously.

The best man smiled all over his merry face. "I shall do my best to survive for your sake," he said.

She nodded thoughtfully. "But why aren't you goin' to get married sooner?"

He surveyed her with his head on one side. "My little sweetheart is only pocket size at present," he said. "I'm waiting for her to grow up."

"Oh! Is she little like me?" asked the chief bridesmaid, looking slightly disappointed.

"She's just like you, sweetheart," said Noel, with cheery a.s.surance.

"She has eyes of wedgewood blue, and hair of golden down, a mouth like a rose, and the jolliest little turn-up nose in the world. And she's going to be six next birthday."

This cla.s.sic description was an instant revelation to the chief bridesmaid. She blushed very sweetly, with pleasure unfeigned in which shyness had no part. "Oh, Noel!" she breathed, in rapturous antic.i.p.ation. "But why must we wait till we're growed up?"

"We!" said Noel, who was twenty-two and a crack shot in the Regiment.

She kissed him propitiatingly. "I mean--dear Noel--. why can't we go and get married now? I'm sure Mummy wouldn't mind."

"H'm! I wonder!" said Noel.

"I do love you so very much," said the chief bridesmaid, with eyes of shining sincerity. "And you are just the beautifullest soldier _I_ ever saw!"

He threw back his head in a laugh that showed his white teeth, to his small adorer's huge delight. He was certainly a very gallant figure in his red and gold uniform with his sword dangling at his side; and his winning Irish ways gained him popularity wherever he went.

It was true that the chief bridesmaid's mother shook her head at him, and called him fickle, but then his fickleness was of so open and boyish an order that it could hardly be regarded as a fault, especially since no one--with the exception of the chief bridesmaid--ever took him seriously. And to her at least young Noel Wyndham was always tenderly faithful in his allegiance.

On the present occasion, though nominally he had been acting as best man to a brother officer, he had spent most of his time in the service of the muslin-frocked, bare-legged atom who now sprawled upon his knee with all the privilege of old acquaintance, a.s.suring him of her whole-hearted devotion and admiration.

He had just been giving her tea and wedding-cake, of which latter she had eaten the sugar and he the cake, a wise division which had pleased them both.

"Will we have a cake just like this when we're married, Noel?" she asked seductively, casting an affectionate glance towards the empty plate.

"Oh, rather!" said Noel. "Several storeys high, big enough to last a whole year."

"Oh, Noel!" she murmured ecstatically.

And, "Oh, Noel!" said her mother, suddenly coming up behind them.

The chief bridesmaid laughed roguishly over Noel's shoulder. "I like weddin's," she said.

Noel set her down and rose. "My dear Mrs. Musgrave, I've been hunting for you everywhere. Have you had any tea?"

She smiled at him with amused reproof. A very sweet smile had Mrs.

Musgrave, but it was never very mirthful. She had lost all her mirth with her youth. Though she could not have been much over thirty, her hair was silver white.

"I was only in the next room," she said. "Yes, thank you; the padre gave me tea. We must be going. Peggy and I. Will left some time ago, directly after the bride and bridegroom."

"Ah, Will is a paragon of industry. I believe he thinks more of that beastly old reservoir of his than of the whole population of Sharapura put together. But surely you needn't go yet? Don't!" pleaded Noel, with his most persuasive smile.

"No, don't let's, Mummy!" begged the child, clinging to her hero's hand.

"Noel and me, we're goin' to be married, we are."

"So we are," said Noel. "And we're going to church on the Rajah's state elephant, and we're going to make him trumpet all the way there and all the way back. I hope we are not springing it on you too suddenly," he added, with a laugh. "It's the usual thing, isn't it, for the best man to marry the chief bridesmaid?"

"I should say it depended a little on their respective ages," smiled Mrs. Musgrave. "Are you going to find my 'rickshaw? It is later than I thought, and I am expecting visitors."

"Ah, I know," said Noel. "Captain and Mrs. Nick of Wara, isn't it?"

"Not Mrs. Nick," she corrected him. "I wish it had been. She is my greatest friend. But she can't leave England because of their child."

"There's a lady of some description coming in his train," a.s.serted Noel.

"I have it on unimpeachable authority."

"Yes, she is his niece. I knew her as a child, a giddy little thing--rather like Nick himself."

"Mrs. Musgrave! Is that how you describe one of our most celebrated heroes? Nick Ratcliffe--the one and only--the most romantic specimen of our modern British chivalry--beloved of women like yourself, respected by men like me! Did I hear aright?"

She laughed. "Oh, don't be absurd! He is the least imposing person in the world, I a.s.sure you."

"And the lady, his niece?" questioned Noel. "Is she married by the way?"

"Oh, no. She is quite a girl."

"A real live girl in this wilderness!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Noel. "I say, may I drop in a little later and see her? Dear Mrs. Musgrave, say Yes!" He stooped and gallantly kissed her hand. "As your daughter's _fiance_, I think you might ask me to dine. I'll be so awfully good if you will. I say, Peggy, ask Mummy to invite me to dinner to-night, and I'll come and say good-night to you in bed."

"Oh, yes!" cried Peggy, jumping with eagerness. "He may come, mayn't he, Mummy? And I'll save up my prayers," she added to Noel, "and say them to you!"

"Hear, hear!" said Noel. "Come, Mrs. Musgrave, you haven't the heart to refuse me such an innocent pleasure as that. I'm sure you haven't, so thank you kindly, I'll come. Shall I?"

"Of course you are quite irresistible," said Mrs. Musgrave. "But I don't--really--think it would be very kind of me to have guests on their first night. The poor child is sure to be too tired for chatter."

"But I shan't chatter," protested Noel. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse.

Come, Mrs. Musgrave, don't be cruel! Remember you're dealing with your future son-in-law, who is absolutely devoted to you; and don't refuse me the only favour I've ever asked!"

He gained his end. Noel Wyndham was an adept at that, having made a study of it all his life.

Mrs. Musgrave, reflecting that the most fascinating young officer in the cantonment could scarcely be unwelcome in the eyes of a young English girl, however tired she might be, finally allowed herself to be persuaded by cajolery on his part and earnest pleading on Peggy's to include him at her dinner-table.

"If you don't mind taking the risk of being de trop," she said, "you may come."

"I'll take any risk," he declared ardently; and, having gained his point, kissed her hand again and departed to summon her 'rickshaw, with Peggy mounted on his shoulder.

CHAPTER II

THE SELF-INVITED GUEST