Mildred reached the chair and sank into it. Hugh sat down on a rug on the grass beside her, averting his eyes while she adjusted her skirt, Mildred often managed to have some untidy piece of petticoat showing. He poked gloomily into his ear in a vain attempt to mitigate the buzz. 'Sorry, what did you say?
'I said, «Hugh, come with us to India», said Mildred.
He looked up with surprise. 'India? Are you going to India?
'Felix and I are, said Mildred, 'or so we hope. I can't get Humpo to come. He wants to go back to?RAhat? when the weather gets colder to stay with an old diplomat friend, and doubtless for some other fell purpose. Felix is between jobs at the moment, as you know. His next one is probably recruiting Gurkhas. He adores that. And I thought I might travel out with him. It would be such fun if you came too.
'How kind of you! said Hugh. 'But I'm afraid I couldn't possibly — Then he reflected: in fact there is realy nothing to stop me.
'Nonsense, dear, said Mildred, with the quiet assured smile of one following his thought. Her long intent blue eyes were alight with humour and with a familiar air of friendly bossiness.
Hugh laughed. He rubbed his bald head. 'Of course it would be possible. And I think it's an attractive idea. But it would cost a great deal. And I think I ought to stay here to — to keep an eye on things, you know.
'Don't give me these Civil Service answers, Hugh dear, said Mildred. 'You've got quite enough money to spoil yourself and still leave those children more than's good for them. And we shall be talking to our beds forever soon enough. And as for keeping an eye on things — “things» being Ann and Randall I presume — you said just now that you thought there was nothing to fear. In any case, you know quite well there's nothing you or anyone can do for those two. Leave them alone and they'll come home, bringing their tails behind them.
Hugh was silent. The idea was certainly tempting. He had never travelled much. Fanny had detested foreign travel. And to be free, to get right away. Yet did he really want to travel with Mildred.? — We'll see the Taj Mahal by moonlight! said Mildred. 'Why not?
— It's a tragic country. It would make you sad to see it, Mildred.
— Don't be so stuffy and old, said Mildred. 'It's a wonderful exciting country. Did you know Delhi was Humphrey's next assignment when that Marrakesh thing happened? It would have been his first big job.
Hugh had not known this, and he reflected that if he had never for a moment thought of Humphrey's broken career as a tragedy, that was a tribute to Humphrey.
'I bought so many books on India, Mildred went on, practically a library. Then when we didn't go I was so terribly disappointed. I've never really got over it. I've had a thing about India ever since.
And if it had never occurred to him to think of Mildred as capable of disappointment, as capable indeed of being put out by anything, that was a tribute to her.
'I don't have to decide now, do n' he said. 'I doubt if it's possible. But I'll certainly think about it.
'Of course there's no hurry! cried Mildred. 'Felix's job isn't even definite yet. I thought we might go by boat, you know, if Felix still had a bit of leave left. That would be a nice rest for you. But anyway, think it over. And now, let's walk to the bridge, shall we, before dutiful Ann starts hurrying back to her spouse? She's already stayed longer than she threatened to.
Hugh got up stiffly. India. Why not? As Mildred said, their travelling days would soon enough be over. Yet in the sudden whirl of possibilities which her suggestion had evoked he felt that somewhere, though he could not at the moment discern it, there was an authoritative reason why he could not go.
'The midges down by the river are something dreadful, said Mildred. 'Let me give you some citronella to keep them off.
She picked up a little bottle from beside the deck-chair, and reaching up, dabbed some on to Hugh's neck. The strong curious smell invaded his nostrils; it invaded his mind. Mildred took his Ann and they began to pace slowly towards the river. The smell citronella troubled Hugh exceedingly. What a muddled state he seemed to be in today. Why was that particular smell in that particular place so oddly disturbing?
They reached the grey humped bridge with its two tiny circular arches and its crumbling balustrade yellow with lichen the middle of the bridge they looked back down the little reach of blue haze of forget-me-nots growing out of the water, tangled the verge of the tall flags and bulrushes which almost hid them from view. The clump of slender bamboos, their thickly crowded stems as straight as spears, their drooping delicately fingered tops even on such an evening never still, enclosed the view towards the house. The robust chestnut foliage leaned to touch the stonework on the other side. The little sheet of murmuring water was screened and private.
Hugh leaned on the parapet and looked down. He descried in the sunny water the long waving tresses of the green weed. Then moving his gaze, and by a change of focus, he saw just below him in the stream the reflection of himself, and of Mildred who was leaning close beside him and also looking down. With that, and with a wild rush of distressed emotion the memory came up and he recalled the kiss. It had been here, exactly here, and at just such a moment I hey had both paused and seen their reflections in the glass below them. They had seen their reflections; and then, as if prompted by those shades below, turning to each other, with a naturalness, paIlidly and in silence they had kissed. It must have been the citronella that made him remember; and he somehow knew, though he could not see it with the eye of his memory, that on that evening twelve years ago Mildred must, in exactly the same way, have dabbed the citronella on his neck. But the kiss, that he saw again in all its detail.
Hugh gazed. Their two faces, in the blurred reflection, looked young again. Then with a start he moved away from the parapet. Mildred was looking surprised at his abrupt movement. He could not, he felt, credit her with remembering. The accident of the citronella had been a charm which had worked for him but not for her. For a moment he was disappointed. Then he was relieved. They began to walk back towards the house.
Anil was coming across the grass now, vigorously pulled by Miranda, laughing and trying to talk to Felix who followed just behind her.
'Ah, they're going — said Mildred. She slowed down, and Hugh mended his pace to hers.
'Hugh, she said, 'may I come and see you in London soon? I shall be there mostly for the next few weeks. I haven't seen the Tintoretto for such a long time. That would give me such pleasure.
'You are very kind to me, Mildred, said Hugh. 'I'll give you a ring in London, shall I, and we can fix a day.
'And, Hugh — do come to Vishnuland.
He was feeling thoroughly disturbed, and anxious only to take his leave. India, yes, he would think about that. And in the not altogether painful turmoil of his spirit he tried again to discern what the reason was, the powerful reason, why he could not go. O spare me a little, that I may recover my strength: before I go hence and be no more seen.
They turned the edge of the house, beside the very dark blue Mercedes, in whose shining flank he saw reflected Ann and the tall figure of Felix Meecham who were following close behind. Miranda, who seemed to be more merry and prankish than usual, had raced ahead and, was trying to swing on the door of the Vauxhall in a way which would do it no good.
'Did you see Emma Sands at Fanny's funeral? he said suddenly to Mildred.
'Ah — said Mildred. 'My old college chum. Was she there? No, I didn't see her.
'Yes, she was there, said Hugh. 'Odd, wasn't it. I mean, she hadn't seen Fanny in years.