Mountains of necessity

Front matter

BY

HESTER WHITE

1 Seeing this vale, this earth, whereon we dream, Is on all sides o'ershadow'd by the high Uno'erleaped Mountains of Necessity, Sparing us narrower margin than we deem."

CHAPTER I. " I CALL it an infernal swindle, nothing more or less."

The speaker was a big, good-looking, soldierly man of about forty, attired in a white linen suit. He was seated before a shabby mahogany writingtable of many drawers (which stood in the centre of a large, bare, whitewashed room, remarkable for its untidiness), and accentuated the vigour of his remark by placing the note he had just written, face downwards on a piece of blottingpaper, and smiting it violently with the palm of his hand.

" I've never married, I've no wish to marry, I've no widows and orphans — I mean, I shan't have when I die — I work like a nigger for my country ; yet I'm supposed to hand over every year a considerable portion of my hard-earned savings in order that — well, in order that Mrs Brown may mourn in the hills and marry again within the year, or the Miss Robinsons send to London for their ball-dresses "

" You don't know much about women if you imagine they can do that sort of thing on what you contribute, old chap."

His friend, lolling back in a low chair with a short pipe in his mouth, spoke with the superior knowledge of a married man. He was a fine specimen of a ruddy, healthy, contented Anglo- Indian, whose splendid constitution and strong vitality had triumphed over every variety of climate, and permitted him to indulge in the wildest acts of imprudence with impunity. Mr Tom Tremaine was head of the telegraph department at Gurmpore, and his garden the best in the place.

It being his way to take things as they came, he made himself quite happy without his wife, who, after two years of married life (during which time she saw a great deal of Indian society and very little of her husband), had elected to return to England and live at Cheltenham with an aunt.

He always found life bearable, but it had been made many degrees pleasanter by the advent at Gurmpore of Major Hugh Evans, who had been appointed cantonment magistrate.

The two men became friends at once ; their tastes were the same, and their characters sufficiently dissimilar to supply the two halves of a whole.

Evans was generous, warm-hearted, impulsive, without caution ; consequently boyish still, in spite of his forty -three years. He had never married, and cared very little for the society of the gentler sex. His profession, sport, the companionship of his men friends, and a hundred other matters were all-sufficient; women stood to him without this charmed circle which made up his life. He did not despise or dislike them, but treated them with a condescending tolerance and indifference, distracting to many fair ladies accustomed to adulation, who admired his handsome appearance and strong dominant personality.

Years before, in early youth, he had experienced what is commonly called a "disappointment." His keen imagination, as unrestrained in those days as his temper, had transformed a very ordinary young woman into an angel, and set her among the stars; in common with many other weak mortals, she could not long remain in so exalted a position, but fell to earth, marrying a rich bucolic squire advanced in years, and sending a foolish, impetuous young soldier, not to the dogs but to India, with — as he thought — a broken heart, and a brain sick through the loss of illusions, the destruction once and for ever of a happy power to create and believe in an ideal. Had he later on felt the necessity of a home and a wife to look after his house and order his dinners, he might perhaps have married ; but at the time of his misfortune he had exchanged into a native cavalry regiment, therefore he belonged to India, became absorbed in her interests, and absolutely contented with a bachelor life.

He possessed a small estate in North Wales and was comfortably off. To marry and bring upon himself the worries which afflicted his friend, he reflected, as the years went by, would be an intense bore if nothing else. He never failed to heed the unsatisfactory marriages that came before his notice, but entirely ignored the happy ones, remaining supremely ignorant of the beauty and peace which love can bring into the poorest home, and of that mysterious affinity and companionship which would most especially have appealed to his ardent affectionate nature.

Tom Tremaine laughed a great deal at his expense, lazily, good-humouredly, to his face, never behind his back. Indeed it was recorded that the jolly simple Cornishman had only once been known to show temper — namely, on one occasion when pretty Mrs Latour, carried away by momentary wrath, had in his presence called his friend a " stuck-up bear," the good-looking Major having denied her the box-seat of the brake next himself because he was anxious to teach a subaltern to drive.

Evans's denunciation of what he disliked was as vigorous and loudly expressed as his applause when pleased to approve.

In the case of the subscription to the officers' families' pension fund, which was deducted every month from the pay of staff corps officers, his abuse of the whole system never ceased. When anything called up the subject, Tremaine was constantly forced into the position of sympathetic listener, whilst the Major anathematised the Government for approving of so preposterous a tax, the military authorities for not protesting against it, and those who in any way advanced or applauded the matter for their lack of judgment and common -sense. We are all said to be mad on one point ; undoubtedly Evans's absurdly violent objection to this same pension fund seemed almost eccentric. His friends began to understand that it was, like M. de Bergerac's nose, a theme not to be treated with flippancy. Money had nothing to do with his displeasure : he would have given twice the sum to a charity which called forth his sympathy, but considered every man entitled to freedom of action with regard to a subscription towards the maintenance of the widows and orphans of his comrades. That bachelors who disapproved of the married state, and thought subalterns, at any rate, lost irremediably if they took to themselves a wife, should be forced indirectly to encourage such folly, appeared to him simply a piece of ridiculous injustice.

" It's never too late to mend, old man," Mr Tremaine remarked as another note was submitted to the sledge-hammer process of blotting. " The best thing you can do is to marry and provide a widow for the fund."

The other's muscles relaxed ; he tried to retain a look of anger and solemnity, but finally burst out laughing.

" Thank you, and perhaps you would kindly mention who you would recommend for the situation,— Mrs M'Cormack? She is fifty, and has her pension already. Miss Niel ? I would pay her to keep out of my way ; moreover, she dislikes me. Or Sister Pretty ? Do you suggest a trip to England with the intention of ' falling in love ' ? If a man wishes to make a fool of himself that is a safe way to do it."

" What a pity Mrs Latour is a grass-widow only; she would jump at you "

" Good Lord ! I'm thankful she hasn't the chance "

"As for Miss Flora Niel — yes, she's out of the question, I fear. I always think that girl's been embittered somehow — not got what she wanted : now and then I have a suspicion that she is a bit over our heads."

" The only thing I know about her at all is that she's as plain - headed a young woman as you'd meet in a day's march. I feel sorry for her; she may try her level best, but she can't keep the whisky-bottle out of Niel's reach. He's her brother; I suppose she's fond of him. I was very fond of my little sister Ellen ; I'd have done a good deal for her when we were young together, but she married a chap I didn't like, we quarrelled, and — well, she died. I don't suppose it does to care too much for any one in this world."

" Are you becoming a cynic in your old age ? Sister Pretty would suit you best, I believe. I don't suppose her ancestors came over with the Conqueror, but she's merry ; she'd make an

MOUNTAINS OF NECESSITY. II

excellent widow, and that is what you want, after all."

" It seems you wish to shunt me into an early grave."

" Early ? Did I hear you say early ? "

" I see a few grey hairs on your head, old man, so don't you talk. Hullo ! there's some one outside. Here, Dulmir, Darwaza bund,1 I don't want anybody at present. Stop that, Pickle," as a small fox-terrier jumped from his perch on a cane-chair and barked loudly.

The lithe bearer in spotless white clothes, whose face and movements exhaled self-importance, salaamed and passed out swiftly and silently. But apparently Pickle had betrayed them, for in another minute there was a clatter of hoofs on the dry ground, and a lady in a brown holland habit and a pith hat covered with white muslin, mounted on a large gaunt waler,2 drew up outside the verandah. She was middle-sized, with dark hair and dark eyes set in a colourless face; the lines of her mouth were strong and almost too decided. It was Miss Kiel ; she called out in a not unpleasant voice —

" Good morning, Major Evans ; I suppose you are there. I don't want you, but Mr Tremaine ;

1 The door is shut. Not at home.

2 Horse from New South Wales.

I rode round to the telegraph-office to find him, and Toolsieram told me he was here."

The two men looked at each other and smiled slightly. What Miss Niel said was usually to the point — she did not pause to "dress up" her remarks : perhaps it was this that had caused some of the men in the station to call her unwomanly. It is not unusual to mistake directness of manner for want of feeling, and imbecility for tenderness.

Tom Tremaine emerged from the shadow.

" What can I do for you, Miss Niel ? "

" Dick is — is not well ; he wants to ride over this evening to Dumbala to meet his chief, and I don't think he is — fit for it. You know how powerless I am when he makes up his mind " (this with a short laugh) ; "I thought perhaps you might help me."

She did not look at him as she spoke, but gazed out into the compound towards the servants' houses, as if intent on watching the antics of several happy naked black babies who were grubbing in the red dust. A close observer would have noticed that she found it difficult to speak as she did before the other man. Tom Tremaine was every one's friend, and it was comparatively easy to confide in him and ask his assistance.

" Drunk again, I suppose," Evans muttered below his breath. As his friend called for his pony, he went out and patted the big waler's neck, remarking that the evening was hot — a scarcely original suggestion.

He was always chivalrous and polite ; but even the somewhat tragic circumstances connected with the Kiel household failed to raise any interest in the sister as an individual. He did feel pity, for his fellow -creatures could always count on his sympathy ; and as the two rode off through the peepul-tre.es1 which surrounded the bungalow, he stood for fully three minutes gazing after them.

" It's hard lines, upon my word ; I wouldn't be in her shoes. Old mother M'Cormack, who has a pretty true knowledge of human nature, declares she is so unselfish with Dick that she can't be bothered to exercise that virtue for the benefit of others. She's probably right. I am sure an eternal screwing to make both ends meet and to keep that young ass in order is enough to sour any one. Poor old Tom ! I'm thankful he's got a wife at home ; there's no knowing what folly he might not be led into."

Mr Tremaine and Miss Niel rode silently along

1 Peepul-tiee of the fig species.

the dusty road. Gurmpore was not without a certain picturesqueness : there seemed less expanse of flat dreary maidan,1 and more broken ground, than is usual in a small cantonment in the plains.

In the midst of the group of bungalows, which stood fairly near together, was a patch of grass surrounded by trees, that to one gifted with a keen imagination and vivid poetic fancy might have recalled an English village green.

Mr Dick Niel, a good - looking, squarely made, and short young man of about twenty-four, with regular features, met them on the verandah. He was hilariously talkative and slightly incoherent, repeating an insignificant anecdote more than once, with the same questions, the same emphasis, and the same fatuous laughter.

Where her brother was concerned Miss Niel relinquished the candour for which she was renowned, for although Tremaine had more than once helped her in difficulties, the true nature of the young man's shortcomings had never been mentioned between them. Tom respected her reserve on the subject, although it struck

J Level plain.

him as strange that her strength of mind did not enable her to rise above the useless comedy which she persistently kept up.

He caught sight of her face as she stood behind Kiel's chair ; the contempt and bitterness in it were very marked.

" She is certainly plain," he thought, " and I suppose she is hard ; " then as his eyes wandered round the bare room, for the first time its meagre, almost sordid, appearance struck him forcibly. A phitlkari1 bespattered with bits of looking-glass hung over the mantelpiece, on which stood two Benares vases and some cheap Japanese fans. The bamboo furniture was unsoftened by drapery ; a common gaudy carpet covered the floor ; none of the feminine trifles which give an air of comfort and an atmosphere of home were present. Involuntarily a vision arose of Mrs Latour's drawing-room in Gurmpore, which had been transformed from a dreary whitewashed apartment into the cosiest boudoir imaginable. There a draped charpoy,2 piled with soft many-hued cushions, formed a luxurious divan ; Kashmir curtains and delicate muslins covered ugly doorways and unsightly patches on the walls, and dainty silver ornaments stood upon

1 Embroidered curtain. '2 Bedstead.

tiny " aspinalled " tables. True, two captains and four subalterns, to say nothing of half-adozen servants, had been employed for several days on this great work (Mrs Latour was somewhat capricious and often changed her mind) ; whilst Miss Niel, on the contrary, had never been known to accept help from any one, unless it was Tom Tremaine.

" You should take a leaf out of Mrs Latour's book," he said, following a thoughtless impulse to speak what was in his mind.

She coloured slightly —

" You think it looks ugly and bare : it does. But everything has to be put away when the hot weather comes. Besides, what is the use of spending money on things that are unnecessary ? I have left it as I found it when I came out."

" You are above caring for luxury ? "

" Not above it. We were rich once, Mr Tremaine— long ago when I was a girl."

" Don't you call yourself a girl now ? "

" No ; I'm nearly thirty. Can't you understand that if you have to give up things it is best to let it all go ? "

She glanced down at her hand. Sister Pretty, the hospital nurse, who professed to be something of a palmist, had told her the morning before, with a twinkle in her eyes and exclamations of surprise, that artistic perception and love of ease were written plainly on the palm.

" I don't think I do understand," Tom said, replying to her question. Dick Niel interrupted—

" Shesh been slangin' me thish mornin' for keepin' her shorter money. Well, Tremaine, orright — I'll dine with you."

When he had left the room Tom turned to the girl —

" Miss Niel, are you short — I mean, we are old friends now — may I — will you promise to come to me if you are in any difficulty about money ? "

She laughed, a hard abrupt laugh that chilled him.

" Oh, thank you ; we're not bankrupt yet. What a miserable thing money is ! but — you will think me despicable when I tell you that I love it, and sometimes believe I should be capable of selling my soul for it. If it wasn't for lack of it Dick wouldn't have — I could save —Oh, don't let's speak of it. Thank you for taking him off to dinner ; I can't think how it is I impose on your good nature as I do."

B

" You do yourself injustice all round," he said gravely ; but he felt snubbed, and, if the truth were known, rather disappointed, as he rode away with Niel in tow. Undoubtedly she was very ungracious.

Chapter II

MRS LATOUR was a lady by birth; she did what are commonly classed as unladylike things in a ladylike manner, therefore often escaped blame where others would have been mercilessly condemned.

In vulgar language, she had a keen eye to the main chance, or, as she would have expressed it, her friends were "very kind" to her; "they seem to anticipate my wishes." Consequently the bungalow she inhabited at Gurmpore had been lent her by a civilian, a Simla acquaintance ; the pony and cart she drove belonged to one subaltern, while most of the furniture in her rooms had been provided by another. " Mr Henry has rather a small room, and I am taking care of several chairs for him," she explained to Mrs M'Cormack. "The piano is Mr Frere's ; I always play his accompaniments, so it was more convenient to have it here. Captain Lawson brought me those rugs from Kashmir."

The stout lady smiled complacently, and observed that it was wise to get as much as possible out of your neighbours, at which remark her pretty hostess opened her eyes in innocent surprise.

Mrs Latour's husband was a captain in the 5th Pioneers, and quartered at Maidanpore. This place being undesirable, she and her child Doreen, aged seven, had taken up their abode at Gurmpore for the winter, intending to remain until the hot weather provided an excuse for flying to the joys of Simla. Most people liked her, most people gossiped about her, and most people forgot her when they saw her face no more.

There existed a few exceptions : some disapproved of her, and some were in love with her. Amongst the first was, strangely enough, good-natured Tom Tremaine, amongst the latter Mr Dick Kiel.

The older man, who in his quiet way was a keen observer, thought this sprightly grass-widow selfish, and at times spiteful ; the younger, susceptible and easily moved, had very soon become entirely infatuated about her.

A few remarks when no one else was within hearing as to the superiority of his play at polo, and the present of a striped waistcoat worked in yellow and black wool by her own hands, sufficed to establish him as her slave.

Many a rupee which his sister refrained from spending went to provide some expensive trifle that Mrs Latour had expressed a desire to possess.

The one man besides Mr Tremaine who did not share with her other friends a talent for anticipating her wishes was Major Evans. He seemed too dense or too indifferent, and she, with a spirit of determination worthy of a better cause, set herself to undertake his education and bring about a reformation. But never did lady attempt a more hopeless task. In the first place, her personal attractions, which were considerable, failed to influence him in the smallest degree ; in the second, it never apparently occurred to him that any one but her husband could be called upon to provide her with the luxuries (she called them necessities) she longed for.

She was clever, however, and soon discovered that a deliberate appeal to his generosity seldom failed.

" Major Evans, you are going down to Sirkurbad ; will you be so very kind as to bring Doreen ' The Jungle Book,' Rudyard Kipling's last ? She is dying for itfc naughty baby ; I

hardly like to ask you, but " or " I see you

have some lovely pink roses ; will you let your mali x give me some ? I have a tea - party to-morrow "

Such trifling requests were not easy to refuse ; but when an invitation to the tea - party was added and a suggestion that his presence was conducive to its success, he found no difficulty in discovering a previous engagement.

" An aggravating man, very aggravating," Mrs Latour exclaimed in a burst of confidence to Mrs M'Cormack one day.

" Yes, and the worst is he's so handsome."

But in spite of his unsociable instincts Major Hugh Evans could not avoid all festivities instituted by this lovely lady and others in the small station.

One evening he found himself driving the fourin-hand brake out to a wild luxuriant garden four miles from the cantonment, belonging to a native banker, where Mrs Latour had organised a moonlight picnic.

The lady was radiant, sparkling, happy. Her friends had been more than kind in supplying everything required — servants, crockery, and silver,

1 Gardener.

to say nothing of the necessary food. Seated on the box-seat next Major Evans, she enjoyed the comparative coolness of the evening, and laughed and chattered to her heart's content. He was in the best of tempers, and the somewhat " scratch " team trotted along merrily, passing the crawling bullock-carts and slow-going ekkas1 so rapidly that had they chosen a wrong moment to cross the road they would have run the chance of extinction.

Inside the brake were Mrs M'Cormack, Sister Pretty, Mr Tremaine, Mr Dick Niel, and a young Captain Lawson. They were very merry, Mr Niel being the only silent one of the party : he failed to appreciate the arrangement that obliged him during the drive to see nothing but Mrs Latour's straight white muslin back. He could not even speak to her now and then, for fate had given him a seat at the farther end.

Miss Niel settled at the last moment to drive out by herself. An engagement made her too late for the brake, and if the truth were known, she was in no mood for company, although she could not avoid the picnic — indeed had an especial reason for wishing to go to it.

Flora Niel had begun life under pleasant cir-

1 Ekka, a native one-horse vehicle.

cumstances. The eldest daughter of a Scottish laird and his pretty high-spirited wife, her advent in the world had been surrounded by a hundred fond excitements, born of the joy, love, and pride which envelop the first child of a happy marriage.

When life is young optimism flourishes, and the future still holds a possibility of all things. Wonderful were the dreams Mrs Niel dreamt over her baby's cradle, wonderful the prophecies that proceeded from the mouths of ancient priestesses who had nursed the laird's father or watched the first footsteps of grandmothers and aunts. They discovered a marvellous likeness to the most beautiful of these ladies in the wide-eyed hairless scrap of humanity, whose nose then resembled a small red mushroom.

The evil fairy did not put in an appearance ; on the hill a bonfire blazed to the sky, and even the weird legend of misfortune which overshadowed the family was forgotten.

As time passed, however, a love of play, which had unhappily descended to him from his grandfather, began to develop in Richard Niel; the cursed whisky -bottle became a more frequent companion, his moral sense deteriorated, consequently his judgment as regards the choice of friends grew less clear.

When an heir arrived six years later, the rejoicings were less spontaneous. The old ill-sounding rhyme was whispered amongst the people, rain almost quenched the bonfires, and a rumour went about that the banshee had been heard through the storm.

Still, the laird, in spite of his weak character, was a good fellow, and loved his strong-willed brave wife : she might have kept his wavering steps on the straight road had she lived. But, like so many who are most wanted in this world, she died and left behind her the little girl of six (possessed of her own courage combined with the intellect which belonged to the Niels) and a sturdy week-old boy, who, unhappily, even in his cradle, was the counterpart of his father.

It broke Richard Niel's heart; he went to the bad without an attempt to do otherwise. Fifteen years later he had drunk himself to death, and had gambled away every penny. The old place was sold, and the orphans found they were forced to depend on the small income left them by their mother, which luckily their father had been unable to touch.

From the age of six almost, Flora presided as small mother, manager, and head of the house :

the old housekeeper became a cipher, and quite under her sway. She had not time to be young ; at thirteen, her mother's diary of her five years of married life seemed pathetically childlike in its simplicity, its belief in the impossible, its doubts and fears. How she treasured that girlish ungrammatical record of happiness and of love, which, forgiving much, had hoped all things and believed all things. As Flora grew older it taught her many lessons : she learnt courage from its pages, and longed for the power that could look with tolerance on faults (even surrounding them with a certain glamour), a long experience of which made her grow hard, bitter, hopeless. " It would have killed her ; thank God she died ! " she said to herself sometimes, and grew more and more reserved, giving pride rein, taking duty as a watchword, and smothering softer feelings as she did self-indulgence and pleasure. Had she known it, through this renunciation of self and adherence to a stern ungilded law of right and wrong, she lost influence, and saw many, less brave and true than herself, succeed where she failed.

One or two men had loved her, playmates who had known her from childhood; but for such matters there was " no time," and where she might have cared, she pulled herself up and firmly put all thoughts of marriage aside.

Dick Niel the younger was clever. He passed well for the "Indian Civil"; and so the brother and sister went together to the great Eastern land that provides for, and engulfs, so many of England's young manhood.

The boy was a general favourite : although weak as water and selfish, he possessed a certain generosity and impulsiveness that made him lovable. Flora, on the other hand, was the last person to become a favourite in India ; women pronounced her "a frump," and men thought her dull and unsociable. Pride, reserve, and an inclination to avoid every one not cut out after your pattern, are the very last traits to win popularity with those whose lives belong to the great sad country of large hearts, where the stiffness of Europe is unknown, and people are not afraid of each other. Flora Niel was unconventional : she cared nothing at all for the opinion, good or bad, of acquaintances, and was not hard in her judgments ; but she felt a profound scorn for the vanity, and what she called want of principle, of a woman like Mrs Latour. She treated with contemptuous indifference many men who might have been her friends, because she considered them woefully lacking in intellect, and it was only good Tom Tremaine's simplicity and single-heartedness that had at last won from her a certain response. This was strange, he being far from clever. She knew that her inner world of thought would have been absolutely incomprehensible to him ; yet his quiet strength was restful, involuntarily she gave him her friendship, and on occasions, when in deep water, appealed to him more than once. His very ignorance of the enormous effort such a proceeding caused her, made it easier to ask his help.

On the evening of Mrs Latour's picnic, seated in the little battered dogcart, innocent of varnish, with her fox-terrier Scamp on the seat at her side and a syce l behind, she made her pony step out along the wide road which ran straight and white between the green rice-fields, and pondered over a matter that was weighing heavily on her mind. The previous day it had come to her knowledge that her brother was in treaty for the purchase of Girofle, a handsome country-bred pony, which he intended to present to Mrs Latour on her birthday. The beautiful delicate-limbed creature was worth 800 rupees, or more; the fair lady had watched it win several races at Sirkurbad, and

1 Groom.

had become possessed with a most fervent desire to see it in her own stable, declaring, while her eyes sparkled and her pretty face glowed with enthusiasm, that just then she cared for nothing else in the wide world in comparison.