“You mustn’t sing to-night, Pen,” she said; “I’m going to make you rest quietly in a corner.” But Penelope resisted her efforts.
“No, Elma,” she said. “I am going to sing the whole evening. If you want to help me, ask for another song whenever I stop--only not sad ones. Otherwise----”
The entrance of the men prevented the rest of the sentence, and Lady Haigh could do nothing but obey. She was conscious of the thundercloud on Major Keeling’s brow, and thought she could guess at its cause; but she seconded Penelope’s efforts nobly, scouted any sad songs that were suggested, and made the gentlemen agree with acclamation that Miss Ross had never sung with such archness and expression in her life. In her mind was running a line from one of the songs which Penelope had laid down with a shudder,--
“Go, weep for those whose hearts have bled What time their eyes were dry,”--
and she knew that the only chance was to leave her not a moment for thought. It did not surprise her when, after the guests were gone, Penelope took up the guitar once more, and deliberately snapped the strings one after the other. It would be long before she could touch it again without living through that evening’s agony afresh.
Morning came, and with it Ferrers, but by no means in a lover-like frame of mind. His feelings were deeply injured, and he was full of grievances. After leaving the fort the night before, his comrades, taking their cue, as they considered, from Major Keeling, had all but cut him. It had been understood that Ferrers had made a full apology, and expressed his deep regret for the charges he had brought, and that Mr Crayne’s mediation had induced the Commandant to overlook the matter. But Major Keeling’s attitude at the dinner-party, his apparent inability to address a single word to Ferrers, had given the other officers a welcome opportunity of marking their sense of the younger man’s conduct. Ignorant as they were, and as Ferrers himself was, of the new cause of quarrel between the two, they came to the conclusion that his behaviour had been so unpardonable that only the strongest pressure from Mr Crayne had prevailed upon Major Keeling to overlook it even officially, and in their loyalty to their Chief they hailed the chance of copying his demeanour. The faithful Colin, who was much perplexed by Major Keeling’s uncharitable behaviour, and almost felt impelled to remonstrate with him, was the only exception, and managed, quite unintentionally, to fan the flame of Ferrers’ indignation by the fulness of his sympathy. Fortunately for Penelope, Ferrers had not time to recount his ill-treatment at length, and was only concerned to have the engagement fully recognised before he started to escort his uncle back to the river.