# The Dilemma/Chapter VI

CHAPTER VI.
The eminent personage while in camp at Mustaphabad gave, as in duty bound, a succession of dinner-parties, so arranged that during his brief halt every member of the local society was invited in turn; and to Yorke the supreme good fortune happened of being invited for the same evening as the commissioner and his daughter. On any other occasion he would have been duly impressed with the magnificence of the reception-tent, so spacious that thirty or forty guests seemed quite lost in it, and the easy bearing of the staff-officers who were present, and who, marching with his Excellency's camp, treated the entertainment quite as a matter of course. And at another time he would have felt nervous when led up by the aide-de-camp on duty to be introduced to the eminent personage. But on this occasion all these distractions had no effect on him, for standing by the eminent personage, and in conversation with him, was the object of his thoughts and day-dreams. And when, after his Excellency had shaken hands affably, Miss Cunningham, as he passed on, greeted him with her usual kindness, and held out her hand, the young fellow hardly knew what he was about; and as he found his way to a corner of the room, the sudden joy which had possessed him gave way to a revulsion of feeling bordering on despair as he thought how clumsily he had responded to the sweet condescension. That little hand, he thought, which he would have liked reverentially to raise to his lips, he had shaken — awkward blockhead that he was — no more gracefully than if it belonged to any other lady — the brigadier's wife, for example.
That lady's name had hardly occurred to him when he heard her voice proceeding from an ottoman behind him.
"Oh yes, a very sweet girl indeed, but quite unsophisticated, and does such very funny things. You know it is always etiquette after being introduced to his Excellency to pass on and not stand near him. You see even I, who am the senior lady here, have come and sat down here just as a subaltern's wife might do. Of course it's different in my case, because, as his Excellency will have to take me in to dinner, I shall be able to talk to him all the time; but still there is a natural delicacy of feeling which ought to teach people how to behave on these occasions — don't you think so?"
But as she said this, a dreadful doubt crept over the worthy lady's mind that perhaps, after all, his Excellency might be contemplating a coup d'état, and would carry off Miss Cunningham as a partner for dinner, leaving her, the brigadier's lady, neglected on the sofa to follow. Or could it be intended that Mrs. Geeowe, the military secretary's lady, then sitting beside her, should be the favoured person? True, a colonel ranked after a brigadier; but still the military secretary was a very great person, and such mistakes had sometimes been made. In the agony of mind caused by these doubts, the good lady became conscious of Yorke's presence standing in front of her, and called him to her aid.
"Oh, Mr. Yorke, is that you? How do you do? You are lucky, indeed, to be invited here so soon, with all the bigwigs. Just tell the A.D.C. I want to speak to him — will you? Captain Sammys I mean — that's him standing there;" and suiting the action to the word, Mrs. Polwheedle began making a series of telegraphic signals with her fan, until, succeeding in catching the captain's eye, that gentleman crossed the tent at once, holding a paper in his hand, in which he was jotting down the names of the guests, preparatory to marshalling them in pairs.
"Oh, Captain Sammys, I just want to say that if you require any assistance about the names and order of the ladies, pray command my services. It must be so puzzling to meet such a number of strangers at every station, and especially ​at a large station like this, a first-class brigade, you know."
"Oh — ah — well, it is," said the captain; we do make mistakes sometimes; nice little bones of contention thrown among the natives for them to squabble over after we have gone; gives them something to talk about at any rate."
"Oh, but we don't want any bones of contention here," replied the lady, hardly knowing whether or not to be offended at the metaphor; "it's so easy to prevent it if you only ask the proper people for information. I wanted the brigadier to have a list of all the ladies in the station made out in order of seniority, and kept at the brigade-office. Now the commissioner's wife would have been senior to me, you know, only he's not married; and of course Miss Cunningham, she doesn't count in these matters. Then Colonel M$^c$Luckie is senior to Colonel Glumme — that's Mrs. M$^c$Luckie, the little pale thing talking to the commissioner — you wouldn't think it, for Colonel Glumme is ever so much older, and M$^c$Luckie is only a regimental major, and they are both brevets of '54, but M$^c$Luckie was senior as lieutenant-colonel."
"Thank you very much. I'm sure you have made it all as clear as daylight; but it's too late now, I'm afraid, to alter my list, for I should get into a hopeless muddle. You'll go in to dinner with his Excellency, and I must pair off the others the best way I can."
"I am sure you will manage very well," said the lady, a beaming smile succeeding the look of anxiety which had overspread her ample face; "you gentlemen of the staff are so clever."
Yorke, of course, went in to dinner, which was served in an adjoining tent, with the crowd of gentlemen to whose share no ladies fell, as became a subaltern; but it was his good fortune to sit nearly opposite to Miss Cunningham, who was handed in by a colonel on the staff, — and having nobody in particular to talk to, he occupied himself pleasantly enough in watching her furtively. The white ball-dress seemed perfect; but surely this rich dinner-dress was even more becoming. Was there ever seen so radiant and gracious a queen of beauty before? Why does not everybody in the room fall down and do homage? The colonel, happily, was a married man, so there was no cause for jealousy; but an uneasy doubt crossed his mind — what if his Excellency were to fall in love with her, and make her an offer? He was bachelor, and not much over sixty. Would she be able to withstand the temptation of the position in favour of a humble subaltern? But just then, Miss Cunningham looking round suddenly, their eyes met, and she gave him an arch look, as if recognizing a friend among strangers, which drove doubts and fears out of his head for the time. And after dinner, when the company returned to the drawing-room tent, he ventured to find his way to where she was sitting, and exchanged a few words, which sent him home with bounding heart and excited brain.
And yet there was not much in the conversation itself to turn a young fellow's head.
"I felt so sorry for your regiment at the review yesterday," she said, "just as it was coming in front, and looking so well. It was your colonel's fault, wasn't it? He got in the way, or did something ridiculous, did he not?"
"Major Dumble commands our regiment; of course it's the same thing as if he were a colonel." Angry though he was with the stupid old man, he could not be so disloyal to his commanding officer as to run him down in public, even in speaking to Miss Cunningham.
The young lady understood the implied rebuke, and at once continued, "I am very sorry for making such a blunder, and quite deserve to be scolded for it; but you see, I am so ignorant of military etiquette."
"Deserved!" cried the young fellow; "to think that I should have the presumption to say that anything you said or did was not perfect."
"Yes," she said, laughing, "but it was very far from being perfect; but there is so much tittle-tattle in the world, that it is hard not to fall into the way of talking it now and then; don't you think so?"
At this moment Colonel Falkland came up to know if she was ready to go, and Miss Cunningham rose at once.
"I didn't quite mean that, Olivia; your father is anxious to be off as soon as he can, and sent me to ask you to be ready; but you must wait till Mrs. Polwheedle sets the example of rising, or you would give mortal offence."
"There, you see," said she, turning towards Yorke laughingly — "another breach of etiquette!"
"Good heavens!" thought the youngster, "what bliss to have a private understanding set up already! and this is ​hardly more than the third time I have spoken to her."
Mrs. Polwheedle, however, was in no hurry to leave, for she was again in conversation with the eminent personage.
"I hear that your Excellency is going to march to Banglepore. I am so pleased to think that my son will have an opportunity of coming under your Excellency's notice."
"Your son, Mrs. Polwheedle?" said his Excellency; "why, I understood the brigadier here to tell me that he had no ——"
"Oh no, not his son," said the lady, tapping the brigadier on the arm with her fan; "my son by the late Captain Jones of the 10th Fusiliers — my first husband, you know — Lieutenant Jones, of the Banglepore Rangers, — as promising a young officer as there is in the army, I can assure your Excellency. He has passed in the language; and I am sure your Excellency will find him deserving of any favour you may be pleased to show him."