The Portland daily press., 1895-05-03
THE WHITE FEATHER.

Yes, 1t seems a funny thing to lind a pi-
ano and mirrors and knickknacks and
china up here among the Himalayan foot
hills, couple of hundred miles from any
where, and an old gray bearded planter,
whose nearest neighbor is 80 miles away
and who never hears the rustic of white
woman's petticoats, seems the last sort of
man to own them.
The piano isn't up to much. 1t hasn't
been tuned for the last Is years. and two
years ago tho Frazer boys who had ridden
over from Rajah Hath to eat their Christ
mas dinner here, managed to break most
of the strings and hammers larking with
it. The mirrors too, are all cracked or
hopelessly blotched by the damp of the
rains, but they looked smart enough when
/ bought them, some Is years ago.
I've got used to the poor finery, and the
Dther boys from the plantations, when they
do ride over here, are good natured enough
in their chaff.
It's not once in blue moon that a globe
trotter like you comes up this path, for the
temple really is not worth seeing, and the
SHOWS are reached with so much less trou-
BILE by the other road, with its well built
dak bungalows. A couple of years ago we
had commissioner who was sportsman
and who used to come here for the great
mahseer, whose favorite haunt is where
the two riveys-you can hear them roaring
now-meet down deep in the valley, but
the present man is not a keen man and
doesn't come as far as this.
Is there a story attached to these old
sticks2
Well anywhere but here should think
1t would not be called one. but if you
don't mind listening will tell you the
whole littls history.
I'd been out in the country ten years
25 years in all I've put in in this old India
and I'd worked up to the position of
manager at the Murrinee estate, which lies
80 miles away over that big ridge Of hills,
about the direction where you can see the
light Of the rising moon, I'd good house
and good income, and like a fool l
thought I'd get myself a good wife. l
went homo. hunted up all my people and
saw as much of society as could-you
wouldn't think 1t of me to look at me- but
am connected with some of the smartest
people of LonQon-and before a quarter of
my leave wassup was head over heels in
love with the most lovely girl had ever
set eyes on. THE life I've led here has
ground all sentiment and that sort of fool
ishness out of me, but even now when !
think Of it there comes back to me a sort
of faint return Of the intense nervousness
I felt the day that r proposed to her, at
dance at the Star and Garter, standing,
we two, on the terrace, with the sleeping
town in blur Of moonshine at our feet
and the river winding a ribbon of silver
through the misty landscauo
She was lovely girl, lovely even among
beautiful women; complexion of rose
tinted ivory, large black eyes, black hair
contralto voice that spoke as sweetly and
with as many modulations as any singing
and a manner SO gentle and soft that she
twisted one round her little finger with
out ones knowing that the process was go
ing on. She had sad story, too-poverty,
a hateful stepmother and no choice excepa
between marriage and becoming govern
ess. We spent mest of the time during our
engagement in shopping. I had plenty Of
ready money, and she had the ideas of
princess as to how she should be housed
These faded brocade curtains we bought
one windy October night at Gillow's; that
rickety old piano was one of Broadwood's
chef d'oeuvres, and those little figures on the
mantel are good dresden. said goodby
to her on board a P. and o. at Southamp-
ton and came out here to get all our pret-
ty things into the house and to arrange for
proper reception of my coming princess.
Two months I lived in lovers dream,
and then I went to Bombay to meet her.
What happened is, know, a comedy
that is played dozen times each season,
but it makes it none the less bitter to the
victim that others have suffered before him
+
She met me as soon as I set foot on deck
and told me that she could never marry
me-that she had altered her mind.
There was no hope for me, she said,
none whatever. There was another
man, and if cared for her-if I cared
for her, my God-I would make it all
as little painful as could be helped
and go. She was very, very sorry, but l
must go.
I went back to my curtains and glasses
and pretty things in the bungalow on the
hillside, cursing God and all creation in
my heart. took great deal of that, too,
then. By tho way, you're not helping
yourself. The whisky's good. You needn't
be afraid Of it. so5 it out direct from
Speyside, and somehow or another re-
port against me got home, and as one of
the directors wanted berth for his broth
er was turned out and sent to this small
estate, where live seeing no one but the
coolies, the. Babu, who lives mile down
below in the village, and old Afz Kahn,
the grim old Afridi who waited on us and
who has been my body servant for the
last 90 years. =
r 41a