No More Learning

"

"She sat in a heap on the edge of a couch, and managed to convey the
impression that she was suffering from stomach-ache, at the very least.
It was all I could do not to ask after her symptoms. When I rose she
grunted just like a buffalo in the water--too lazy to move. "

"Are you certain? "--

"Am I blind, Polly? Laziness, sheer laziness, nothing else--or her
garments were only constructed for sitting down in. I stayed for a
quarter of an hour trying to penetrate the gloom, to guess what her
surroundings were like, while she stuck out her tongue. "

"Lu--cy! "

"Well--I'll withdraw the tongue, though I'm sure if she didn't do it
when I was in the room, she did the minute I was outside. At any rate,
she lay in a lump and grunted. Ask the Hawley Boy, dear. I believe the
grunts were meant for sentences, but she spoke so indistinctly that I
can't swear to it. "

"You are incorrigible, simply. "

"I am not! Treat me civilly, give me peace with honor, don't put the
only available seat facing the window, and a child may eat jam in my
lap before Church. But I resent being grunted at. Wouldn't you? Do you
suppose that she communicates her views on life and love to The Dancing
Master in a set of modulated 'Grmphs'? "

"You attach too much importance to The Dancing Master. "

"He came as we went, and The Dowd grew almost cordial at the sight of
him. He smiled greasily, and moved about that darkened dog-kennel in a
suspiciously familiar way. "

"Don't be uncharitable. Any sin but that I'll forgive. "

"Listen to the voice of History. I am only describing what I saw. He
entered, the heap on the sofa revived slightly, and the Hawley Boy and
I came away together. He is disillusioned, but I felt it my duty to
lecture him severely for going there. And that's all. "

"Now for Pity's sake leave the wretched creature and The Dancing Master
alone. They never did you any harm. "

"No harm? To dress as an example and a stumbling-block for half Simla,
and then to find this Person who is dressed by the hand of God--not that
I wish to disparage Him for a moment, but you know the tikka-dhurzie
way He attires those lilies of the field--this Person draws the eyes of
men--and some of them nice men? It's almost enough to make one discard
clothing. I told the Hawley Boy so. "

"And what did that sweet youth do? "

"Turned shell-pink and looked across the far blue hills like a
distressed cherub. Am I talking wildly, Polly? Let me say my say, and
I shall be calm. Otherwise I may go abroad and disturb Simla with a few
original reflections. Excepting always your own sweet self, there isn't
a single woman in the land who understands me when I am--what's the
word? "

"Tete-Fele'e," suggested Mrs. Mallowe.

"Exactly! And now let us have tiffin. The demands of Society are
exhausting, and as Mrs. Delville says"--Here Mrs. Hauksbee, to the
horror of the khitmatgars, lapsed into a series of grunts, while Mrs.
Mallowe stared in lazy surprise.

"'God gie us a gude conceit of oorselves,'" said Mrs. Hauksbee, piously,
returning to her natural speech. "Now, in any other woman that would
have been vulgar. I am consumed with curiosity to see Mrs. Bent. I
expect complications. "

"Woman of one idea," said Mrs. Mallowe, shortly; "all complications are
as old as the hills! I have lived through or near all--all--ALL! "

"And yet do not understand that men and women never behave twice alike.
I am old who was young--if ever I put my head in your lap, you dear, big
sceptic, you will learn that my parting is gauze--but never, no never
have I lost my interest in men and women. Polly, I shall see this
business Out to the bitter end. "

"I am going to sleep," said Mrs. Mallowe, calmly. "I never interfere
with men or women unless I am compelled," and she retired with dignity
to her own room.

Mrs. Hauksbee's curiosity was not long left ungratified, for Mrs. Bent
came up to Simla a few days after the conversation faithfully reported
above, and pervaded the Mall by her husband's side.

"Behold! " said Mrs. Hauksbee, thoughtfully rubbing her nose. "That is
the last link of the chain, if we omit the husband of the Delville,
whoever he may be. Let me consider. The Bents and the Delvilles inhabit
the same hotel; and the Delville is detested by the Waddy--do you know
the Waddy? --who is almost as big a dowd. The Waddy also abominates the
male Bent, for which, if her other sins do not weigh too heavily, she
will eventually be caught up to Heaven. "

"Don't be irreverent," said Mrs. Mallowe. "I like Mrs. Bent's face. "

"I am discussing the Waddy," returned Mrs. Hauksbee, loftily. "The Waddy
will take the female Bent apart, after having borrowed--yes! --everything
that she can, from hairpins to babies' bottles. Such, my dear, is life
in a hotel. The Waddy will tell the female Bent facts and fictions about
The Dancing Master and The Dowd. "

"Lucy, I should like you better if you were not always looking into
people's back bedrooms. "

"Anybody can look into their front drawing-rooms; and remember whatever
I do, and whatever I look, I never talk--as the Waddy will. Let us hope
that The Dancing Master's greasy smile and manner of the pedagogue will
soften the heart of that cow, his wife. If mouths speak truth, I should
think that little Mrs. Bent could get very angry on occasion.

"But what reason has she for being angry? "

"What reason! The Dancing Master in himself is a reason. How does it go?
'If in his life some trivial errors fall, Look in his face and you'll
believe them all. ' I am prepared to credit any evil of The Dancing
Master, because I hate him so. And The Dowd is so disgustingly badly
dressed"--

"That she, too, is capable of every iniquity? I always prefer to believe
the best of everybody. It saves so much trouble. "

"Very good. I prefer to believe the worst. It saves useless expenditure
of sympathy. And you may be quite certain that the Waddy believes with
me. "

Mrs. Mallowe sighed and made no answer.

The conversation was holden after dinner while Mrs. Hauksbee was
dressing for a dance.

"I am too tired to go," pleaded Mrs. Mallowe, and Mrs. Hauksbee left
her in peace till two in the morning, when she was aware of emphatic
knocking at her door.

"Don't be very angry, dear," said Mrs. Hauksbee. "My idiot of an ayah
has gone home, and, as I hope to sleep tonight, there isn't a soul in
the place to unlace me. "

"Oh, this is too bad! " said Mrs. Mallowe sulkily.

"'Can't help it. I'm a lone, lorn grass-widow, dear, but I will not
sleep in my stays. And such news, too! Oh, do unlace me, there's a
darling! The Dowd--The Dancing Master--I and the Hawley Boy--You know
the North veranda? "

"How can I do anything if you spin round like this? " protested Mrs.
Mallowe, fumbling with the knot of the laces.

"Oh, I forget. I must tell my tale without the aid of your eyes. Do you
know you've lovely eyes, dear? Well to begin with, I took the Hawley Boy
to a kala juggah. "

"Did he want much taking? "

"Lots! There was an arrangement of loose-boxes in kanats, and she was in
the next one talking to him. "

"Which? How? Explain. "

"You know what I mean--The Dowd and The Dancing Master. We could hear
every word and we listened shamelessly--'specially the Hawley Boy.
Polly, I quite love that woman! "

"This is interesting. There! Now turn round. What happened? "

"One moment. Ah-h! Blessed relief. I've been looking forward to taking
them off for the last half-hour--which is ominous at my time of life.
But, as I was saying, we listened and heard The Dowd drawl worse
than ever. She drops her final g's like a barmaid or a blue-blooded
Aide-de-Camp. 'Look he-ere, you're gettin' too fond 0' me,' she said,
and The Dancing Master owned it was so in language that nearly made
me ill. The Dowd reflected for a while. Then we heard her say, 'Look
he-ere, Mister Bent, why are you such an awful liar? ' I nearly exploded
while The Dancing Master denied the charge. It seems that he never told
her he was a married man. "

"I said he wouldn't. "

"And she had taken this to heart, on personal grounds, I suppose. She
drawled along for five minutes, reproaching him with his perfidy and
grew quite motherly. 'Now you've got a nice little wife of your own--you
have,' she said. 'She's ten times too good for a fat old man like you,
and, look he-ere, you never told me a word about her, and I've been
thinkin' about it a good deal, and I think you're a liar. ' Wasn't that
delicious? The Dancing Master maundered and raved till the Hawley Boy
suggested that he should burst in and beat him. His voice runs up
into an impassioned squeak when he is afraid. The Dowd must be an
extraordinary woman. She explained that had he been a bachelor she might
not have objected to his devotion; but since he was a married man and
the father of a very nice baby, she considered him a hypocrite, and this
she repeated twice. She wound up her drawl with: 'An I'm tellin' you
this because your wife is angry with me, an' I hate quarrellin' with any
other woman, an' I like your wife. You know how you have behaved for the
last six weeks. You shouldn't have done it, indeed you shouldn't. You're
too old an' fat. ' Can't you imagine how The Dancing Master would wince
at that! 'Now go away,' she said. 'I don't want to tell you what I think
of you, because I think you are not nice. I'll stay he-ere till the next
dance begins. ' Did you think that the creature had so much in her? "

"I never studied her as closely as you did. It sounds unnatural. What
happened? "

"The Dancing Master attempted blandishment, reproof, jocularity, and the
style of the Lord High Warden, and I had almost to pinch the Hawley Boy
to make him keep quiet. She grunted at the end of each sentence and, in
the end he went away swearing to himself, quite like a man in a novel.
He looked more objectionable than ever. I laughed. I love that woman--in
spite of her clothes. And now I'm going to bed. What do you think of
it? "

"I sha'n't begin to think till the morning," said Mrs. Mallowe,
yawning "Perhaps she spoke the truth. They do fly into it by accident
sometimes. "

Mrs. Hauksbee's account of her eavesdropping was an ornate one but
truthful in the main. For reasons best known to herself, Mrs. "Shady"
Delville had turned upon Mr Bent and rent him limb from limb, casting
him away limp and disconcerted ere she withdrew the light of her eyes
from him permanently. Being a man of resource, and anything but pleased
in that he had been called both old and fat, he gave Mrs. Bent to
understand that he had, during her absence in the Doon, been the victim
of unceasing persecution at the hands of Mrs. Delville, and he told the
tale so often and with such eloquence that he ended in believing it,
while his wife marvelled at the manners and customs of "some women. "
When the situation showed signs of languishing, Mrs. Waddy was always on
hand to wake the smouldering fires of suspicion in Mrs. Bent's bosom
and to contribute generally to the peace and comfort of the hotel. Mr.
Bent's life was not a happy one, for if Mrs. Waddy's story were true,
he was, argued his wife, untrustworthy to the last degree. If his own
statement was true, his charms of manner and conversation were so
great that he needed constant surveillance. And he received it, till
he repented genuinely of his marriage and neglected his personal
appearance. Mrs. Delville alone in the hotel was unchanged.
She removed
her chair some six paces toward the head of the table, and occasionally
in the twilight ventured on timid overtures of friendship to Mrs. Bent,
which were repulsed.

"She does it for my sake," hinted the Virtuous Bent.

"A dangerous and designing woman," purred Mrs. Waddy.

Worst of all, every other hotel in Simla was full!

* * * * *

"Polly, are you afraid of diphtheria? "

"Of nothing in the world except smallpox. Diphtheria kills, but it
doesn't disfigure. Why do you ask? "

"Because the Bent baby has got it, and the whole hotel is upside down
in consequence. The Waddy has 'set her five young on the rail' and fled.
The Dancing Master fears for his precious throat, and that miserable
little woman, his wife, has no notion of what ought to be done. She
wanted to put it into a mustard bath--for croup! "

"Where did you learn all this? "

"Just now, on the Mall. Dr. Howlen told me. The Manager of the hotel
is abusing the Bents, and the Bents are abusing the manager. They are a
feckless couple. "

"Well. What's on your mind? "

"This; and I know it's a grave thing to ask. Would you seriously object
to my bringing the child over here, with its mother? "

"On the most strict understanding that we see nothing of The Dancing
Master. "

"He will be only too glad to stay away. Polly, you're an angel. The
woman really is at her wits' end. "

"And you know nothing about her, careless, and would hold her up to
public scorn if it gave you a minute's amusement. Therefore you risk
your life for the sake of her brat. No, Loo, I'm not the angel. I shall
keep to my rooms and avoid her. But do as you please--only tell me why
you do it. "

Mrs. Hauksbee's eyes softened; she looked out of the window and back
into Mrs. Mallowe's face.

"I don't know," said Mrs. Hauksbee, simply.

"You dear! "

"Polly! --and for aught you knew you might have taken my fringe off.
Never do that again without warning. Now we'll get the rooms ready. I
don't suppose I shall be allowed to circulate in society for a month. "

"And I also. Thank goodness I shall at last get all the sleep I want. "

Much to Mrs. Bent's surprise she and the baby were brought over to
the house almost before she knew where she was. Bent was devoutly and
undisguisedly thankful, for he was afraid of the infection, and also
hoped that a few weeks in the hotel alone with Mrs. Delville might lead
to explanations. Mrs. Bent had thrown her jealousy to the winds in her
fear for her child's life.

"We can give you good milk," said Mrs. Hauksbee to her, "and our house
is much nearer to the Doctor's than the hotel, and you won't feel as
though you were living in a hostile camp Where is the dear Mrs. Waddy?
She seemed to be a particular friend of yours. "

"They've all left me," said Mrs. Bent, bitterly. "Mrs. Waddy went first.
She said I ought to be ashamed of myself for introducing diseases there,
and I am sure it wasn't my fault that little Dora"--

"How nice! " cooed Mrs. Hauksbee. "The Waddy is an infectious disease
herself--'more quickly caught than the plague and the taker runs
presently mad. ' I lived next door to her at the Elysium, three years
ago. Now see, you won't give us the least trouble, and I've ornamented
all the house with sheets soaked in carbolic. It smells comforting,
doesn't it? Remember I'm always in call, and my ayah's at your service
when yours goes to her meals and--and. . . if you cry I'll never forgive
you. "

Dora Bent occupied her mother's unprofitable attention through the day
and the night. The Doctor called thrice in the twenty-four hours, and
the house reeked with the smell of the Condy's Fluid, chlorine-water,
and carbolic acid washes. Mrs. Mallowe kept to her own rooms--she
considered that she had made sufficient concessions in the cause of
humanity--and Mrs. Hauksbee was more esteemed by the Doctor as a help in
the sick-room than the half-distraught mother.

"I know nothing of illness," said Mrs. Hauksbee to the Doctor. "Only
tell me what to do, and I'll do it. "

"Keep that crazy woman from kissing the child, and let her have as
little to do with the nursing as you possibly can," said the Doctor;
"I'd turn her out of the sick-room, but that I honestly believe she'd
die of anxiety. She is less than no good, and I depend on you and the
ayahs, remember. "

Mrs. Hauksbee accepted the responsibility, though it painted olive
hollows under her eyes and forced her to her oldest dresses. Mrs. Bent
clung to her with more than childlike faith.

"I know you'll, make Dora well, won't you? " she said at least twenty
times a day; and twenty times a day Mrs. Hauksbee answered valiantly,
"Of course I will. "

But Dora did not improve, and the Doctor seemed to be always in the
house.

"There's some danger of the thing taking a bad turn," he said; "I'll
come over between three and four in the morning tomorrow. "

"Good gracious! " said Mrs. Hauksbee. "He never told me what the turn
would be! My education has been horribly neglected; and I have only this
foolish mother-woman to fall back upon. "

The night wore through slowly, and Mrs. Hauksbee dozed in a chair by the
fire. There was a dance at the Viceregal Lodge, and she dreamed of it
till she was aware of Mrs. Bent's anxious eyes staring into her own.

"Wake up! Wake up! Do something! " cried Mrs. Bent, piteously. "Dora's
choking to death! Do you mean to let her die? "

Mrs. Hauksbee jumped to her feet and bent over the bed. The child was
fighting for breath, while the mother wrung her hands despairing.

"Oh, what can I do? What can you do? She won't stay still! I can't hold
her. Why didn't the Doctor say this was coming? " screamed Mrs. Bent.
"Won't you help me? She's dying! "

"I-I've never seen a child die before! " stammered Mrs. Hauksbee,
feebly, and then--let none blame her weakness after the strain of long
watching--she broke down, and covered her face with her hands. The ayahs
on the threshold snored peacefully.

There was a rattle of 'rickshaw wheels below, the clash of an opening
door, a heavy step on the stairs, and Mrs. Delville entered to find Mrs.
Bent screaming for the Doctor as she ran round the room. Mrs. Hauksbee,
her hands to her ears, and her face buried in the chintz of a chair, was
quivering with pain at each cry from the bed, and murmuring, "Thank God,
I never bore a child! Oh! thank God, I never bore a child! "

Mrs. Delville looked at the bed for an instant, took Mrs. Bent by the
shoulders, and said, quietly, "Get me some caustic. Be quick. "

The mother obeyed mechanically. Mrs. Delville had thrown herself down by
the side of the child and was opening its mouth.

"Oh, you're killing her! " cried Mrs. Bent. "Where's the Doctor! Leave
her alone! "

Mrs. Delville made no reply for a minute, but busied herself with the
child.

"Now the caustic, and hold a lamp behind my shoulder. Will you do as you
are told? The acid-bottle, if you don't know what I mean," she said.

A second time Mrs. Delville bent over the child. Mrs. Hauksbee, her face
still hidden, sobbed and shivered. One of the ayahs staggered sleepily
into the room, yawning: "Doctor Sahib come. "

Mrs. Delville turned her head.

"You're only just in time," she said. "It was chokin' her when I came
in, an' I've burned it. "

"There was no sign of the membrane getting to the air-passages after the
last steaming. It was the general weakness, I feared," said the Doctor
half to himself, and he whispered as he looked. "You've done what I
should have been afraid to do without consultation. "

"She was dyin'," said Mrs. Delville, under her breath. "Can you do
anythin'? What a mercy it was I went to the dance! "

Mrs. Hauksbee raised her head.

"Is it all over? " she gasped. "I'm useless--I'm worse than useless! What
are you doing here? "

She stared at Mrs. Delville, and Mrs. Bent, realizing for the first time
who was the Goddess from the Machine, stared also.

Then Mrs. Delville made explanation, putting on a dirty long glove and
smoothing a crumpled and ill-fitting ball-dress.

"I was at the dance, an' the Doctor was tellin' me about your baby bein'
so ill. So I came away early, an' your door was open, an' I-I lost my
boy this way six months ago, an' I've been tryin' to forget it ever
since, an' I-I-I-am very sorry for intrudin' an' anythin' that has
happened. "

Mrs. Bent was putting out the Doctor's eye with a lamp as he stooped
over Dora.

"Take it away," said the Doctor. "I think the child will do, thanks to
you, Mrs. Delville. I should have come too late, but, I assure you"--he
was addressing himself to Mrs. Delville--"I had not the faintest reason
to expect this. The membrane must have grown like a mushroom. Will one
of you help me, please? "

He had reason for the last sentence. Mrs. Hauksbee had thrown herself
into Mrs. Delville's arms, where she was weeping bitterly, and Mrs. Bent
was unpicturesquely mixed up with both, while from the tangle came the
sound of many sobs and much promiscuous kissing.

"Good gracious! I've spoilt all your beautiful roses! " said Mrs.
Hauksbee, lifting her head from the lump of crushed gum and calico
atrocities on Mrs. Delville's shoulder and hurrying to the Doctor.

Mrs. Delville picked up her shawl, and slouched out of the room, mopping
her eyes with the glove that she had not put on.

"I always said she was more than a woman," sobbed Mrs. Hauksbee,
hysterically, "and that proves it! "

* * * * *

Six weeks later, Mrs. Bent and Dora had returned to the hotel. Mrs.