The Lamp in the Desert | Page 9

yet she was
the only woman in the station who refused to follow Lady Harriet's lead.
As Tommy had said, she was a nobody. Her influence was of no
account, but yet with unobtrusive insistence she took her own way, and
none could turn her therefrom.
Mrs. Ermsted held her up to ridicule openly, and yet very strangely she
did not seem to dislike the Adjutant's sharp-tongued little wife. She had
been very good to her on more than one occasion, and the most
appreciative remark that Mrs. Ermsted had ever found to make
regarding her was that the poor thing was so fond of drudging for
somebody that it was a real kindness to let her. Mrs. Ermsted was quite

willing to be kind to any one in that respect.
They approached now, and Lady Harriet gave to each her distinctive
smile of royal condescension.
"I expected to see you dancing, Mrs. Ermsted," she said.
"Oh, it's too hot," declared Mrs. Ermsted. "You want the temperament
of a salamander to dance on a night like this."
She cast a barbed glance towards Stella as she spoke as Monck guided
her to the least crowded corner of the ball-room. Stella's delicate face
was flushed, but it was the exquisite flush of a blush-rose. Her eyes
were of a starry brightness; she had the radiant look of one who has
achieved her heart's desire.
"What a vision of triumph!" commented Mrs. Ermsted. "It's soothing
anyway to know that that wild-rose complexion won't survive the
summer. Captain Monck looks curiously out of his element. No doubt
he prefers the bazaars."
"But Stella Denvers is enchanting to-night," murmured Mrs. Ralston.
Lady Harriet overheard the murmur, and her aquiline nose was
instantly elevated a little higher. "So many people never see beyond the
outer husk," she said.
Mrs. Burton smiled out of her slitty eyes. "I should scarcely imagine
Captain Monck to be one of them," she said. "He is obviously here as a
matter of form to-night. The best man must be civil to the
bride--whatever his feelings."
Lady Harriet's face cleared a little, although her estimate of Mrs.
Burton's opinion was not a very high one. "That may account for
Captain Dacre's extremely complacent attitude," she said. "He regards
the attentions paid to his _fiancée_ as a tribute to himself."
"He may change his point of view when he is married," laughed Mrs.

Ermsted. "It will be interesting to watch developments. We all know
what Captain Dacre is. I have never yet seen him satisfied to take a
back seat."
Mrs. Burton laughed with her. "Nor content to occupy even a front one
at the same show for long," she observed. "I marvel to see him caught
in the noose so easily."
"None but an adventuress could have done it," declared Mrs. Ermsted.
"She has practised the art of slinging the lasso before now."
"My dear," said Mrs. Ralston, "forgive me, but that is unworthy of
you."
Mrs. Ermsted flicked an eyelid in Mrs. Burton's direction with an
insouciance that somehow robbed the act of any serious sting. "Poor
Mrs. Ralston holds such a high opinion of everybody," she said, "that
she must meet with a hundred disappointments in a day."
Lady Harriet's down-turned lips said nothing, but they were none the
less eloquent on that account.
Mrs. Ralston's eyes of faded blue watched Stella with a distressed look.
She was not hurt on her own account, but she hated to hear the girl
criticized in so unfriendly a spirit. Stella was more brilliantly beautiful
that night than she had ever before seen her, and she longed to hear a
word of appreciation from that hostile group of women. But she knew
very well that the longing was vain, and it was with relief that she saw
Captain Dacre himself saunter up to claim Mrs. Ermsted for a partner.
Smiling, debonair, complacent, the morrow's bridegroom had a careless
quip for all and sundry on that last night. It was evident that his
_fiancée's_ defection was a matter of no moment to him. Stella was to
have her fling, and he, it seemed, meant to have his. He and Mrs.
Ermsted had had many a flirtation in the days that were past and it was
well known that Captain Ermsted heartily detested him in consequence.
Some even hinted that matters had at one time approached very near to
a climax, but Ralph Dacre knew how to handle difficult situations, and

with considerable tact had managed to avoid it. Little Mrs. Ermsted,
though still willing to flirt, treated him with just a tinge of disdain,
now-a-days; no one knew wherefore. Perhaps it was more for Stella's
edification than her own that she condescended to dance with him on
that sweltering evening of Indian spring.
But Stella was