"Serve him right."
"He's only following the old custom."
"I wonder if he would be prepared to jump into a fire for the sake of an old custom."
"Of course he wouldn't. Roshanara's well out of it. I wonder how she managed it. I wouldn't have thought she would have had the spirit."
"When one is faced with death one finds the power to do all sorts of things."
"How do you know? You've never faced death."
"You're right. We none of us know how we would behave in certain circumstances if we have never faced them."
"Philosophising again! Trust old Drusilla. G.K. has been questioning them all. He is trying to find out who disobeyed his orders."
"Has he been telling you?"
"Not he! He's very dignified now ... since that time I sent him off with a flea in his ear."
"As I remember, you did nothing of the sort. The encounter was brought to an end when I came in and rescued you."
"Drusilla to the rescue! Because you did it once over that boring old Comte, you think you do it all the time."
"I am glad he has become that boring old Comte. He was so wonderful at one time."
"Well, Khansamah has been behaving very well lately."
"Very well! Trying to force his daughter-in-law to burn herself to death."
"I was referring to his way with me."
"Of course. You never give a thought to anything that does not concern you."
Lavinia laughed. "Stay with me. I love the way you treat me. I don't know why. Mama would have dismissed you long ago for insolence."
"But you are not Mama, and if I am dismissed I will take myself off without delay."
"Huffy again! Of course I want you to stay. You're my best friend, Drusilla. What a name! It suits you. You look like a Drusilla."
"Prim? Disapproving of all the fun?"
"That's right."
"It's not true. I only disapprove of the so-called fun you like to have with the opposite sex, which has once had dire consequences, which you should remember."
"Are we back to that?"
"Yes ... and be careful of the Khansamah. He may not be what you think."
"Oh, he's polite to me always. He's quite humble now."
"I wouldn't trust him."
"You wouldn't trust your maiden aunt who goes to church four times a day and prays for an hour kneeling by her bedside every night."
"I have no such maiden aunt."
"You ought to be one yourself—only you haven't any family to be aunt to. That's why you impress your prim propriety on me."
"I tell you ..."
"I'm going home!" she mimicked. "Oh, no you won't. What was I telling you? Oh, I know. How G.K. is with me. He is rather sweet really. Do you know he brought me a present the other day. I know what it is for. He's asking for forgiveness for that outburst. Of course I forgive him. He just admired me so much."
"I believe you would have surrendered if I hadn't come in."
"Give up my virtue! What an experience it would have been!"
"You have so little virtue that you would hardly be aware of its loss. As to experience ... so is jumping into the sea and drowning yourself, but I don't suggest you try that for the sake of sweet experience."
"Oh, shut up and look at the present G.K. brought to me."
She went to a drawer and took out a case.
"You mean you accepted a gift ... from him!"
"Of course I accepted it. One has to accept gifts in the spirit in which they are given. It's extremely impolite not to do so."
She opened the box and drew out its contents. She held it to her face, peering over the top coquettishly.
I was staring in horror at a peacock-feather fan.
The weeks that followed were marked by increasing tension. In certain parts of the country open rebellion had broken out, but so far it had been kept under control.
At the beginning of March of that year, 1857, Alice and Tom Keeping were married. It was a simple ceremony, which I attended with Dougal, Lavinia and Fabian, who had made a flying visit to Delhi for the occasion and left immediately afterwards. He did say that he had urgent Company business and must keep in touch with the Army. He was going to the Punjab, where, so far, everything was quiet.
Dougal remained in Delhi and I had several opportunities of talking to him.
He said he would very much like to get out of the country and Fabian had agreed with him on this. Undercurrents of rebellion were springing up everywhere and the journey to the coast might prove very hazardous. But for the children, he thought it would be advisable to attempt to leave. Both he and Fabian agreed that Delhi might perhaps be the safest place for us to be after all, for the biggest concentration of Army personnel was stationed there.
I had thought a great deal about the Khansamah's gift of the peacock-feather fan to Lavinia. I could not help feeling that there was some sinister implication in this. I chided myself. It was a small matter compared with the cloud of uncertainty that hung over us. Fans made of peacock feathers were common enough in the bazaars and marketplaces. True, they were mostly bought by foreigners who would not know of their reputation ... whatever that was. But what was the significance of Khansamah's gift of one to Lavinia?
She believed it was a form of apology for his behaviour; but then Lavinia would always believe what she wanted to.
I did ask Dougal about peacock feathers. He was very interested in old customs and he had probably heard that they were considered to be unlucky. He had not, but being Dougal, he set himself the task of finding out.
As he had known that one day he would have to visit India, he had made it his duty to find out all he could about that country, and in his possession were several books which he had brought out with him from England. There was not much that he could tell me, however, but he did discover that there were suspicions regarding peacocks' feathers and one or two sources stated that in some quarters they were considered to be bringers of ill luck.
I told him that I had one in my possession, which had been given to me by Miss Lucille Framling, who had certainly believed in its evil influence.
"Odd that she should wish to pass it on to you," he said.
I told him of the incident when I had taken the fan. He smiled and said, "I believe she was a little unbalanced."
"Yes, she had a great tragedy. Her lover was murdered and it seemed to her that it was all due to the fan."
"Well, that's a lot of nonsense."
I did not tell him that the Khansamah had presented Lavinia with one. I wondered what he would say if he knew that she had carried on a mild flirtation with the man. Sometimes I thought he did not care what Lavinia did.
"It goes back to the legend of Argus, whose eyes went to the peacock's tail. Some believe that Argus wants revenge and that the spots are eyes which see everything that is going on ... not only what is visible, but what is in the mind. There are quite a number of people in this country who never have peacock feathers in their houses."
"They don't all feel like that, I suppose. Some might think the fans made pleasant gifts. They are really very beautiful."
"It might be that the fact that they are would make them more evil in the eyes of the superstitious."
I tried to forget that the Khansamah had given Lavinia the fan. Heaven knew there were far more important matters to concern me.
I received a letter from Alice. She was very happy. She wrote: "Tom is wonderful and we often marvel at the fortuitous way in which we met. Tom is wondering what is going to happen next. I think he realizes the danger of the situation more than most, for his work takes him all over the country. His work is so exciting and it is marvellous to be able to help him. You will be happy to know that the cargo is settled and being taken care of. I look forward to meeting you some time. Perhaps we shall come back to Delhi. Tom is never sure where his work will take him and things are a little uncertain now. It would be wonderful to have a real talk about everything."