OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS fcZ-3 V. I i\ /. &l ^/ e-^^J* THE COUNTESS RADNA New Novels at the Libraries. AS A MAN IS ABLE. By Dorothy Leighton. 3 vols. THE LAST SENTENCE. By Maxwell Gray. 3 vols. THE HEAVENLY TWINS. By Madame Sarah Grand. 3 vols. IDEALA. By Madame Sarah Grand. New Edition. 1 vol. 6s. THE PREMIER AND THE PAINTER. By I. Zangwill and Louis Cowen. New Edition. 1 vol. 6s. CHILDREN OF THE GHETTO. By I. Zangwill. New Edition. 1 vol. 6s. LONDON : WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21, Bedford St.. W C. THE COUNTESS RADNA A NOVEL W. E. X ORRIS AUTHOR OF 'HIS GRACE,' ' NO NEW THING,' ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. I. §ecmtb Coition LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN 1893 [All rights reserved] Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/countessradnanov01norr I CONTENTS OF VOL. I CHAPTER PAGE I. THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE - - 1 II. THE COUNTESS RECEIVES - - -22 III. ENGHIEN - - - - - 37 IV. A QUALIFIED CONGE - - - - 57 V. PEGGY ROWLEY - - - - 71 VI. DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT - - 89 VII. ON THE PIC DE NETHOU - - - 110 VIII. THE RESULTS OF A THUNDERSTORM - - 129 IX. GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY - - 143 X. AN ACCOMPLISHED FACT - - - 158 XI. FAILURES AND SUCCESSES - - - 177 XII. THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE - - 195 XIII. CE QUE FEMME VEUT - - - 213 XIV. CUTTING THE KNOT - 234 XV. IN THE DARK .... 251 XVI. SANS RANCUNE .... 264 J^ THE COUNTESS RADNA CHAPTER I. THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE. 1 Colborne — Douglas Colborne ?' said his Excellency the British Ambassador to the French Republic. ' Xo ; I don't remember ever to have heard of him before ; still, that is no fault of his, and I dare say he is all right. Even if he isn't all right, it doesn't much matter. By all means ask him to your horrid crush !' Lady Royston, the Ambassador's wife, who was seated at her writing-table, was a tall, graceful woman, not so very many years younger than her gray- headed little husband as she looked. 1 I was wondering,' said she, ' whether we VOL. I. 1 2 THE COUNTESS RADNA ought not, perhaps, to ask him to dinner. He called yesterday and left a letter of intro- duction from Peggy Rowley. She says ' ' Oh,' interrupted Sir Edmund Royston, with a laugh, 'what she says is of no con- sequence. From the moment that Peg Row- ley answers for him, we are bound to accept him. Tell her, with my love, that her friend shall be looked after and that everything shall be done to make his stay in Paris pleasant. That is, unless he is an inquiring M.P. or a man with ideas about European politics who writes for reviews — in either of which cases you will have to undertake him. You might intimate to Peg that it is as much as my place is worth to mix myself up with people of that kind, and that I really can't do it, even to please her.' But Mr. Colborne, it appeared, was not a person of that kind. After her husband had left her, Lady Royston glanced again at the open letter which lay before her, and which seemed to classify the stranger in a few graphic touches : 1 I hope you will be kind to him, and introduce him to anybody worth knowing ; for he rather requires introductions to those THE HERO MEETS THE HERO LYE 3 who are worth knowing, having hitherto led the healthy but narrow sort of life that most young Englishmen of good birth lead. They are sure to like him, and so are you ; because he is very nice in every way. Clever, too, and with distinct ambitions — which isn't a disadvantage. His mother considers him remarkably good - looking, and there are moments when I almost agree with her. At any rate, he has good manners, and he has lately succeeded to a property near this which ought to be worth more than it is, and he has resigned his commission in the Guards in order to look after it, and I shouldn't wonder if he were to get into Parliament one of these days — and I believe that is about all. Don't cold-shoulder him. You will hurt his feel- ings if you do, not to speak of mine ; for I am fond of his mother and his sisters, and I want him to be a credit to them. He can't be expected to do credit to anybody or any- thing until he has seen a little more of the world than he has at present.' After that, the very least that Lady Roy- ston could do was to take care that a card of invitation to her forthcoming reception should be despatched to Mr. Colborne's hotel. She 4 THE COUNTESS RADNA thought it might be as well just to have a look at him before taking further steps ; because in these days the utmost circumspec- tion is, unhappily, necessary, and it can no longer be deemed an absolute guarantee of fitness for the highest circles to have held a commission in the Guards, or even to be a friend and neighbour of Peggy Rowley's. However, the misgivings of this experienced lady were satisfactorily dispelled before she had exchanged a dozen observations with the hero of the present narrative. Douglas Col- borne, it may at once be stated, is only pre- sented to the reader as a hero in the sense of having been the chief personage affected by certain events and episodes : nobody has ever thought of calling him heroic, nor, if there was a substratum of heroism in his char- acter, was it of that nature which appeals to popular enthusiasm and is rewarded by laurel wreaths. But everybody who knew him admitted that he was a thorough gentle- man, and Lady Royston, without knowing him at all, admitted as much as soon as she saw him and heard his voice. He approached her on the evening of her re- ception, threading his way through the gold- THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE 5 laced and ribboned official throng which had congregated near the doorway, with the easy, assured air of one who knows that he is in his proper place, and is consequently free from any embarrassing consciousness of his own personality. He was a tall, spare young man, with dark hair and iron - gray eyes, not exactly handsome, yet as near being so as any male specimen of the race can be required to be, and his clothes fitted well, and he had a pleasant, honest sort of smile. He shook hands with his hostess, and, as in duty bound, said something about their common friend, Miss Rowley ; after which Lady Royston inquired whether he had come to Paris for any special purpose, or merely as a tourist. ' Oh, I'm a mere tourist,' he answered, laughing. l I haven't many ideas as yet, and I haven't come here in search of them, though, of course, I shouldn't mind picking up any that might be going. It was Miss Rowley who urged me to cross the Channel by way of widening my mental horizon. She has an impression — I'm sure I don't know whether it is a correct one or not — that Paris is the centre of modern civilization.' ' That is the usual impression,' Lady Royston 6 THE COUNTESS RADNA observed. ' Most likely Peggy is right, for she almost always is, and I suppose there can be no doubt that society is rather more cosmopolitan here than it is in London ; but I can't speak from personal knowledge, be- cause I am not allowed to make acquaintance with people, I am only allowed to look at them. You would like to make acquaintance with them, perhaps ?' ' Well, yes,' replied the young man ; i I think I should — if they are worth the trouble.' 1 Some of them are. There is the Countess Iiadna, for instance, who is quite cosmo- politan. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life, besides being fabulously rich, absolutely independent and rather eccentric. She delights in new types, I am told, and probably you would strike her as a new type, though I won't promise that she shall be delighted with you. Would you care to take the chance ?' To such an invitation only one response was possible, and Douglas Colborne made it with the more alacrity because he was eager to see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears w T hat foreigners (he did not imagine that there was any very important difference THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE 7 between one kind of foreigner and another) were like when you came to talk to them. Presently, therefore, he was making his best bow to the most beautiful woman Lady Roys ton had ever seen in her life. AVas she the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in the course of his more limited experience ? He really thought that she was ; certainly, she was not at all like the rest of the world. Her wavy brown hair was drawn up and back from her low, broad fore- head ; her eyes were of that dark blue colour which is rarely seen out of Ireland ; her complexion was almost unnaturally perfect (though the credit of having produced it belonged to Xature alone); her little straight nose, her short upper lip. and her rounded chin proclaimed the nobility of her birth, as did also the poise of her head and the grace of her movements. She had some diamonds of great size round her neck and in her hair, otherwise her costume was simple enough — or, at all events, it appeared so to him. She reminded him of certain miniatures, represent- ing beauties of the last century, which he had always hitherto set clown as over- flattering to the deceased ladies. It now seemed quite 8 THE COUNTESS RADNA upon the cards that the Countess Radna's great-grandmother might have been accurately portrayed by one of them. Having met nobody at all resembling her before, he naturally did not know what to make of her ; but she, apparently, was troubled by no such difficulty as regarded him, for after a rapid survey of his person, she asked, with a smile, and without a trace of accent : ' Oxford or Cambridge ?' ' Well, if you put it in that way, Oxford,' he replied. * Nevertheless, I took my degree nearly three years ago. Do I look so very juvenile ?' She shrugged her shoulders slightly. ' It is the most excusable of all defects, and, such as it is, you will not suffer from it long enough to find it wearisome. Three years ago, you say ? And since then ?' i Since then I have been a sort of a soldier, and now I am nothing at all, except a country gentleman in a humble way. But I dare say you don't know what that means.' ' Not very distinctly, because I have never been in England, but I have met many Englishmen and read innumerable books about your island. I think I can guess what THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE 9 a country gentleman is. As a general rule, he needs some other vocation than that, does he not ? You have come to Paris to seek for one, perhaps ?' ' Xo : only to divert myself, and to pick up stray scraps of information and experience. I brought a letter of introduction to Lady Royston, who, as you see, is passing me on to her friends. So much the worse for her friends, you will say.' 'Why should I say so? On the contrary, I congratulate myself upon the honour of being included among Lady Royston's friends. Do you speak French at all?' ' Only when I can't help it ; but I under- stand what is said to me.' ' Then you are more fortunate than I am. I very often fail to understand what is said to me : but I am too good a linguist to refrain from talking when I should do better to hold my tongue. I asked the question because I was wondering whether, if you are disengaged, you would care to dine with me to-morrow evening and meet a few celebrities. They are famous without deserving fame, most of them; still, they are amusing in their way, and, as they would a great deal rather entertain you io THE COUNTESS RADNA than be entertained by you, you won't have to exert yourself if you come.' Mr. Colborne accepted the invitation un- hesitatingly, and was endeavouring to express his £ratitude in fitting; terms, when she inter- rupted him rather brusquely by saying, i Very well ; eight o'clock, then. Avenue Friedland — every cab-driver in Paris knows the house.' ' So that you yourself are quite as cele- brated as your guests, I suppose?' ' Oh, I suppose so. Paris is a small place — much smaller than London ; and I am a big personage — much bigger than I look. Everybody will tell you that, if you will make inquiries ; only they won't be able to tell you why I am big, because neither they nor I know. Probably it is because I am considered odd, and because oddity is fashionable.' He would have liked to ask her in what her oddity consisted, but she gave him no opportunity of prosecuting his researches, for she now turned away to speak to one of the high official gentlemen who had been hover- ing near her during the above colloquy, and he was fain to apply for further information to a second Secretary of Embassy, Lindsay by name, with whom he had some slight THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE n acquaintance. Mr. Lindsay knew all about the Countess Radna, and was willing to tell all that he knew. ' She is an heiress of the very first water,' said he, ' one of those heiresses who can't be produced out of the Austro - Hungarian Empire, and aren't produced very freely there, because, as a general rule, Hungarian counts, like other people, manage to have sons. The late Count Radna didn't manage to accomplish that feat, and the consequence is that the lady who has asked you to dinner — it isn't everybody whom she asks to dinner, let me tell you — has larger estates and a vast deal more money than the common run of European royalties. Odd ? Oh, well, I don't know that there is anything particularly odd about her, except that she is still single and that it isn't over and above easy to get even with her. Of course she gives herself airs — any woman in her position and with her face would — but she hasn't earned a character for being specially emancipee so far. However, I can't pretend to be among her intimates. I have known her ever since she came to Paris, about six months ago, but she hasn't asked me to dine yet, and I imagine that she never 12 THE COUNTESS RADNA will. What made her ask you to dine, do you suppose ?' Douglas Colborne was quite unable to say. He deemed it probable that he owed the honour conferred upon him to his obscurity ; but this suggestion was scouted by the young diplomatist, who assured him that the Countess had no fancy for ciphers. ' Then/ said he, ' perhaps she asked me because she has a fancy for new types. Lady Eoyston told me that she had, and thought I might present myself to her in the light of one.' 1 Ah, yes, that may be,' agreed Mr. Lindsay, whose vanity may have been soothed by the hypothesis ; 'yes, you would naturally strike her as being rather raw. Which you are, you know, if you'll excuse my saying so. From her point of view, I mean.' Douglas Colborne did not at all mind being considered raw from anybody's point of view. He was not conceited, and was well aware that he had as yet seen only a very small part of the very small planet which we inhabit. He was anxious to see as much more of it as he could before finally settling down into the narrow channel marked out for him by THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE 13 destiny ; and that was one reason why he looked forward with pleasure and curiosity to the entertainment to which he had been bidden. Another was that he had been greatly attracted by the Countess Radna's beauty, as well as by the informality of her manner. Yet she was formal enough when he pre- sented himself, at the appointed hour, at her hotel in the Avenue Friedland. and when she rose to receive him. She briefly introduced him to three or four of his fellow-guests (he noticed that before doing so she had to consult some ivory tablets, attached to her fan, in order to make sure of his name), and then resumed her seat and her conversation with an old o'entl eman whom he afterwards dis- covered to be one of the most famous of modern French painters. This indifference chilled him a little, as it may not impossibly have been intended to do ; but he enjoyed the evening in spite of it. There were sixteen people present, and a dozen of them were what she had promised they should be, celebrities. Whether she had accurately described some of them as bein^ famous without having deserved fame, Douglas Colborne did not i 4 THE COUNTESS RADNA presume to judge ; but after a time he thought her amply justified in having called them amusing. He was placed at the dinner-table between two ladies, one of whom was the wife of a Minister, while the other, who was a widow, was known to all Europe as a Legiti- mist, an ardent sportswoman and a politician (as far as the providing of funds went) for the fun of the thing. Understanding enough of French to follow a comedy at the Theatre Francois, he did not understand the language quite sufficiently to appreciate all its recent developments, so that he missed some of the amenities which were exchanged across him between this couple of fair antagonists ; still, he caught a few of them, and was diverted by them ; he himself was scarcely required to open his lips ; and when, from time to time, he took the liberty of listening to the incessant and rather noisy conversation which was being carried on at a greater distance from him, he found that also extremely diverting. If the Countess Radna was odd in nothing else, she was evidently odd in her selection of those whom it pleased her to assemble under her roof. It was not necessary to possess any intimate knowledge of Parisian society in THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE 15 order to perceive that she had collected what Mr. Colborne mentally characterized as ' a mixed pack,' nor could it be doubted that a world-renowned philosopher and freethinker, an ascetic bishop, an ex-diplomatist of the Second Empire, and a former member of the Provisional Government of 1870 had been invited to meet one another for experimental and slightly mischievous purposes. They did not, however, come to blows, and their hostess apparently derived less satisfaction from their wordy altercations, their sarcasms and their witticisms, than the young Englishman who was watching her did. He noticed that she ate scarcely anything and spoke very little. Most of the time she was leaning back in her chair, fanning herself languidly and looking most unaffectedly bored, and once, when their eyes chanced to meet, she made a little depre- catory grimace at him, as who should say : 1 After all, it wasn't worth your while to come, was it ? The puppets won't dance.' For his part, he thought that they were dancing quite creditably, and later in the evening he made so bold as to take advantage of an opportunity for telling her so much. After dinner the company adjourned to a 1 6 THE COUNTESS RADNA conservatory, where coffee and liqueurs and cigarettes were served ; and espying a vacant chair at his hostess's elbow, lie audaciously possessed himself of it. ' Tant mieux /' said she, in answer to his observation ; ' since you are amused, there is no need for me to apologize. Nevertheless, they are not amusing. They might be if they believed in themselves, or their theories, or their principles ; but the unfortunate thing is that not one of them, unless perhaps it may be the old bishop, does. Are you, by any chance, provided with a creed, political, social, or religious, which you take seriously ? If you were, one would be grateful to you for proclaiming it.' ' Oh, I suppose I am,' answered the young man, laughing. ' I believe in Christianity and the political supremacy of the landed classes. Also, to a great extent, in human nature and in the perfectibility of the species.' 1 What droll articles of faith ! I don't see how you can make the first agree with the residue ; but if you really believe in the last, you must believe that one man is as good as another.' ' Oh dear no ; if anything is patent to the THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE 17 meanest capacity, it is that the intelligent minority always must and will govern the stupid majority, whether your form of govern- ment be monarchical or republican.' 1 And universal suffrage ?' 'Well, we know how that works. Of course, it is an idiotic system; but it admits of manipulation and is manipulated. Put it how you will, our only concern is to secure a majority of the minority, and we could do it in England if only the Radicals were not so abominably unscrupulous. It is different in foreign countries, because you have the fear of war constantly before your eyes ; and although you may enjoy worrying the men who hold office, you wouldn't like to throw them over and put the Socialists into the saddle.' The Countess was perhaps more interested in her interlocutor's personality than in his political views. She made no response to these ; but presently she said : 1 You are actually and seriously a Christian, then ?' 1 Certainly 1 am. Aren't you ?' ' No ; I have passed through that phase, and have had to abandon the theory, not vol. 1. 2 1 8 THE COUNTESS RADNA without regret. It is a pretty theory ; but unluckily it isn't true — at all events, it can't be proved to be true.' ' Oh, if you insist upon proofs ' ' Isn't that just what one has a right to insist upon, supposing that one possesses any rights at all ? What right, I wonder, have I to be enjoying every luxury that money can buy, while hundreds of thousands of my fellow-creatures haven't enough to eat ?' ' Have you any inclination to resign your privileges ?' 1 Not the smallest. Only, if the populace were to deprive me of them some fine day, I shouldn't have the effrontery to complain ; all I could do would be to protest that I had been born, through no fault of my own, to my present position in the world, which I had no hand in bringing to its present pass. The truly consolatory and delightful thing would be to believe, as I suppose you do, that we are all where we are and what we are by the decree of some wise and supernatural Creator. It would be a funny belief to hold, no doubt ; but it isn't in the least funny to hold no belief, and it is most particularly stupid to profess a belief which one doesn't really hold. THE HERO MEETS THE HEROIXE 19 That is why everybody, except you, is so par- ticularly stupid this evening.' The young Englishman said he was glad to hear that he was exceptional, although he had never expected to be so styled in virtue of his being obviously ordinary. 4 You seem to have s^one so far in vour search for abnormal beings,' he remarked, • that an encounter with a normal Briton is quite a pleasant shock and surprise to you.' • Who told you that I was in search of abnormal beings ?' retorted the Countess. 4 Don't try to say clever things ; that is not at all the rffle of the normal Briton, and you are not likely to shine in it. You will probably shine in other ways before long, if you con- tinue to be simple and honest ; only you should beware of sneering at what seems to you to be morbid affectation. We are morbid, I confess ; but we are not affected, and, such as we are, we constitute the majority of the minority that you were speaking about just now. You will have to reckon with us when you have attained the summit of your ambition, and been invited to take your place as one of your Queen's advisers. That is, if your minority is worth considering at all — as 20 THE COUNTESS RADNA I dare say it may be for another half-century. Let us talk about something else now.' However, she did not seem very eager to talk about anything else ; for she soon rose, and, crossing the room, seated herself beside the artist, who was possibly more successful in amusing her than Douglas Colborne had been. The latter took his leave with a regretful impression that he had affronted his hostess, and a strong desire to see more of her. He was youthful enough to be ignorant of the essential characteristics of the opposite sex ; he was clever enough to have half divined the necessity of keeping women (for their own sakes) in a state of subjection, and he was sensitive enough to have been slightly piqued by a display of that very ancient recipe of theirs for temporarily subjugating their natural masters. Once give a young man to understand that he has inspired you with a certain amused, disdainful liking, as for a worthy, inexperienced sort of creature, and if, after that, you cannot get him to fall in love with you, you must be possessed of physical advantages far inferior to those of which the Countess Radna could boast. Xot, of course, that Douglas Colborne had the remotest intention or idea of falling in THE HERO MEETS THE HEROINE 21 love with this fair and wealthy Hungarian. He had a cool head on his shoulders, and he knew very well that he could no more aspire to ally himself with a grandee of that class than with a Eoyal Highness. Besides, he did not mean to marry anybody for a good many years to come. For a good many years to come he would have plenty to do and think about. He had to get a neglected property into order, if that could be done ; he had to carve out some sort of a career for himself ; he had also to look after his mother and sisters, who might not improbably require looking after. Nevertheless, he thought that the Countess Radna might be cured of the erroneous ideas she had taken up ; in ad- dition to which, he felt sure that she was really worth far more than she chose to repre- sent herself as being. In addition to that, again, he rendered a just and dispassionate tribute to the loveliness of her person, which made her mere presence a boon to the just and dispassionate critic. Musing thus over a noc- turnal cigar after he had returned to his hotel, he resolved that he would call upon her on the following Thursday. She had mentioned to him, when he took leave of her, that she was at home on Thursdays. CHAPTER II. THE COUNTESS RECEIVES. If we all of us had everything that we could wish for, how miserable we should all be ! That is what has been impressed upon us, without convincing us, by innumerable philo- sophers and divines, ever since those two classes of more or less useful mortals sprang into existence to meet as well as they could, with their wise platitudes, the demands of a dissatisfied race. However, if there is one thing more certain than another, it is that the most fortunate of us may always rely upon having something still remaining- to long for ; and it was owing to the above happy pro- vision on the part of nature that the Countess Radna was not really quite as miserable as she thought herself. It is true that she had vast wealth, rare beauty, absolute independence, THE COUNTESS RECEIVES 23 and health so excellent that there was not the slightest need for the services of the physician who formed one of her household ; yet it was a matter of no difficulty whatsoever to her to be depressed and discontented, while nothing debarred her from the consolation of believing that she would have been a hundred thousand times better off if she had been somebody else. Although it is doubtful whether she would have enjoyed washing clothes and cleaning grates, she often envied washerwomen and housemaids, whose duties are obvious, whose work must be done, whether they are in the mood for it or not, and who have no leisure to sit down and meditate ruefully upon the dread- ful, dreary monotony of life. The Countess Radna was four-and-twenty years of age — not less than that — her parents had died during her childhood ; she had long been released from the supervision of her guardians ; she had been everywhere, she had seen every- thing, and she would willingly have written an additional chapter to the Book of Eccle- siastes had she been possessed of the requisite skill. The worst of it was that she possessed no skill, literary or other ; at any rate, this 24 THE COUNTESS RADNA was what she said to herself in her frequent moments of despondency. She could paint a little ; she could play the piano a little ; she had read rather more, and she could, when she chose to take trouble, talk a good deal better than most women ; but what was the good of all that ? What was the o-ood of owning large tracts of country to which you couldn't pay more than a Hying visit without being tempted to cut your throat ? What was the good of wandering about Europe, if you could only look forward to meeting the same dull people over and over again ? What was the good of being courted and admired, unless you could bring yourself to feel some vestige of admiration for your admirers ? What, indeed, was the good of being alive, since ex- istence appeared to be merely synonymous with weariness and disgust ? One fine morn- ing the Countess put some of these cheerful questions — not for the first time — to her body physician, Dr. Schott, who chuckled in his gray beard, shook his fat sides, and prescribed a tonic. Dr. Schott had an easy and well- paid berth, which he probably was not anxious to relinquish. He had always assured his gracious mistress that her constitution was a THE COUNTESS RECEIVES 25 frail one ; but having a tolerably clear com- prehension of her character, he had been care- ful to refrain from vexing her by subserviency of manner, nor had he ever scrupled to laugh at her fancies and her continual trifling ailments. ' A few grains of quinine are very well/ said he ; ' change of scene would be better ; but what would be best of all would be to get up an interest in something or somebody — especially somebody. When one is interested in what is outside, one forgets to think about what is within.' ' I ask nothing better,' returned the Countess. ' Will you be so good as to pro- vide me with somebody in whom it is possible to take an interest ? If you can discover such a person in Paris, you will be more fortunate than I have been, so far. To be sure, I re- member now that there is a young Englishman who dined here the other night, and who seemed to me to differ in some ways from the rest of the nobodies. Come to my re- ception this afternoon, and tell me what you think of him. He is almost certain to call.' 1 A fresh bretendant V inquired the Doctor, with his thick, Teutonic laugh. 26 THE COUNTESS RADNA 'No, not a pretendant ; and I wish you would not use French words, dear doctor — your pronunciation of them gets upon my nerves. He is a sort of schoolboy ; but he is fresh, and, after a fashion, original, and Hiked him. You shall tell me whether he is going to be a man or not some day — you who are so clever at reading character.' The Doctor was really a very fair judge of ordinary character ; but as much could hardly be said for the Baroness von Bickenbach, who ranked next to him in the Countess Radna's household, and whom that lady now proceeded to summon to her presence. ' Bickenbach,' said she, when the faded little middle-aged woman who had once been her governess, and who was now utilized by her in the alternative capacities of housekeeper, chaperon and companion, had appeared in prompt obedience to her commands, ' if }^ou had nothing better to do, it would be kind of you to help me out with the entertainment of the host of tiresome people who may be expected to invade the house this after- noon.' c Ach, most gracious Countess !' sighed the other, ' you know that your wishes are my THE COUNTESS RECEIVES 27 law ; but you know also that 1 am not enter- taining.' 1 Possibly not to them ; yet you never fail to entertain me by the things that you say about them after they are gone away. Keep your eye upon a young Englishman of the name of Colborne, ray good Bickenbach, and when you have studied him, let me hear what impression he has produced upon you. It has been his great privilege to please me: isn't he a fortunate man ?' The Baroness thought him fortunate indeed, and expressed her opinion with the utmost emphasis. Furthermore, she was very anxious to learn whether the favoured Englishman was handsome, and whether he belonged to what she was pleased to call la haute volee. Like Dr. Schott, she was always expecting the advent of the man upon whom the control of her patroness's fortune must some day devolve ; but, unlike him, she was free from any selfish prejudices in the matter. She was romantic, as the ladies of her nation commonly are ; she desired, above all things, that her beloved Countess Helene should be happy ; she had a firm faith in the possibility of matrimonial felicity, and as for herself, her 28 THE COUNTESS RADNA little economies enabled her to look forward with comparative equanimity to the not im- probable event of her dismissal. But this legitimate curiosity on her part received scant gratification ; for her beloved Countess Helene only answered : ' Bickenbach, you bore me. There is just a chance — but I am afraid it is a poor one — that Mr. Colborne may amuse me for a short time ; he is not an Adonis, and it would make no difference to me if he were. You ought to understand me well enough to know that, if I every marry at all, I shall marry somebody of whom I am a little afraid. One is not afraid of students and debutants, and one doesn't take the trouble to notice their features or inquire who their fathers may be.' Notwithstanding this contemptuous declara- tion, the Countess Radna had deigned to notice that Douglas Colborne was a pleasant, manly-looking young fellow, and when, in accordance with her anticipations, he entered her drawing-room that afternoon amongst other visitors, she did think it worth while to question him upon the subject of his parentage. On being informed that his father was dead, that he was his own master, that THE COUNTESS RECEIVES 29 he had no other near relations than a mother and two sisters, and that his modest mansion, with the adjacent lands, had been the pro- perty of his family for a matter of three centuries, she remarked : 1 That is as much as to say that your position has been created for you, and that the only problem you have to solve is how to get through your life without becoming sick of it.' 1 Oh, I am not so hard up for problems as that,' he replied, with a laugh ; ' there are plenty of others which will take me all my time to solve, I expect. How to pay my way will be one of them, and my people think that how to get into Parliament ought to be a second. Xot that I should be in any danger of becoming sick of life, even if I were a county member already and as rich as a Rothschild. Such as they are, the amuse- ments of life are quite good enough for me.' 1 You mean, perhaps, what you and your compatriots call sport — hunting and shoot- ing?^ 1 Yes ; and games. Luckily for me, I love games. I love hunting and shooting, and racing, too ; but I can't expect to have the 30 THE COUNTESS RADNA cream of these things, because I can't afford them. Still, one can treat one's self to the pleasure of looking on at some of them, and I mean to look on at the Grand Prix next Sunday, though it does take place on an un- lawful day. Shall you be there ?' ' Cest selon : I shall be there if I am in a mood to go there when the time comes ; but I am deprived of the temptation which you enjoy, because the only difference that I can discern between Sunday and Mon- day is that Monday will bring me twenty- four hours nearer to the end of this tedious comedy or tragedy — whichever it may be. So you actually believe that you will commit a sin by attending a race-meeting on the first day of the week, and you mean to attend it in spite of your belief ? Happy man !' Mr. Colborne explained. He did not deem it a sin to be present at the Grand Prix — otherwise he would deny himself that pleasure — but in England there were still to be found thousands of excellent people who held that strict obedience to the Ten Commandments, as adapted to the requirements of modern Eng- lish life, was essential ; so that if, by an im- THE COUNTESS RECEIVES 31 possibility, such a thing as a Sunday race- meeting were to be proposed in his native land, he should feel bound to discountenance it. ' I don't feel bound,' he added, ' to insist upon the observance of the Jewish Sabbath ; nobody does observe it, and nobody dreams of doing so. Still, some concessions must be made to inherited prejudices, and it is better, after all, that the masses should stick to an exaggerated creed than that they should abandon everything in the shape of a creed. Don't you think so ?' 4 Infinitely better,' she answered, ' and so the French, nation will discover before the twentieth century begins. It is also very wise on the part of the instructed few to pander to the prejudices of the uninstructed many. Whether it is quite honest is another question ; but that concerns you more than me. Anyhow, I may look forward to the felicity of seeing you at Longchamps, and perhaps, if I do, you will kindly try to en- lighten me as to the excitement that can be derived from ascertaining that this long- legged, narrow-chested horse can get over a given space of ground in a slightly shorter time than that.' 3 2 THE COUNTESS RADNA Douglas Colborne bad a great deal to say in reply to so absurd a travesty of tbe signifi- cation of horse-racing ; but she did not listen to him very attentively, and her next remark was totally irrelevant. ' You talk with an authoritative accent,' said she ; ' it seems a pity that you should no longer be a soldier, because fighting is the one clear and satisfactory business that remains open to men in these days. Although, as far as one can see at present, it would have taken you rather more than an average life- time to have become a Field- Marshal. Do you never sigh for military glory ? You look as if you ought to.' 4 It is my humble endeavour to sigh for nothing that I can't possibly have,' he answered, laughing. ' Meanwhile, I have just been made a Colonel of Yeomanry ; so that when our friends on this side of the Channel become our enemies and invade us, thev will find me ready to receive them at the head of the distinguished corps which I command.' She shrugged her shoulders. ' Did I not tell you that you were a happy man !' she exclaimed. ' Imagine one whose ambition it is to desire only what he can get ! THE COUNTESS RECEIVES 33 I really must introduce you to Dr. Schott, who will cordially sympathize with you, and to my companion, the Baroness von Bicken- bach, who shares your ideas without having the faintest suspicion that she shares them. Don't make fun of Bickenbach, unless you wish to hurt my feelings. You will think her a fool ; but she is not a fool, because nobody who is so perfectly sincere can be.' It was little that Douglas Colborne cared whether the clumsy, colourless German frau to whom he was presented was as wise as Solomon or as silly as she presented every appearance of being. He did not want to talk to her or to Dr. Schott, and he would have liked very much to talk a little longer with his hostess. But the latter had either had enough of him or thought that the rest of her visitors had not had quite enough of her ; for she now turned away, and during the next quarter of an hour it devolved upon him to make conversation for the benefit of her dependents. He got on pretty well with the Baroness, who entertained him with extrava- gant eulogies of her former pupil and present mistress, extolling the Countess Radna's kind- ness of heart and boundless liberality, while vol. 1. 3 34 THE COUNTESS RADNA she deplored the influence of the Zeitgeist, which, according to her, led so many pure and noble beings into representing themselves as something infinitely inferior to what they actually were. The Baroness might be foolish, but seemed to be sympathetic ; whereas Dr. Schott displayed none of the sympathy and cordiality with which he had been credited in advance. Dr. Schott was somewhat grumpy and surly ; Dr. Schott, to tell the truth, had taken the stranger's measure, and had been dissatisfied with the result of his scrutiny. 1 Young, not ill-looking, rather clever than stupid, and remarkably fresh,' was the Doctor's inward verdict. ' Just the sort of fellow to captivate her, and just the sort of fellow to make the position of resident physician uncomfortable. Das geht nicht /' Consequently, Schott said some rather rude things about the importance of England as a factor in European politics. He was very well aware that nothing that he could say or do would interfere witli the gratification of his mistress's caprices ; but that knowledge left him free to indulge his own ill-humour, and he did not deny himself so modest a luxury. THE COUNTESS RECEIVES 35 When Mr. Colborne took leave of the Countess he made so bold as to inquire why she kept a tame doctor. ' And not such a very tame one either, if it comes to that,' he remarked. ' Your doctor growls and shows his teeth even while one is patting him on the head and saving nice things to him.' e Does he ?' she returned, laughing. ' Well, that shows what a capital watch -dog he is. I am sorry if he growled at you ; but perhaps that may have been because you couldn't distinguish his head from his tail, and stroked him the wrong way. I have known such mistakes made by others before now ; still, I have very seldom met with anybody who could manage to irritate my dear, good Bickenbach. I trust you haven't been laugh- ing at her.' ' Not for one moment. She has been praising you up to the skies, and there was nothing to laugh at in that.' The Countess gave him a smiling little bow of acknowledgment and dismissal. She herself affected a sans facon which bordered upon familiarity ; but her rank and her wealth placed her upon so lofty an eminence that she was little accustomed to familiarity on the 36 THE COUNTESS RADNA part of her associates, and the simple, self- possessed manners of this young Englishman tickled without offending her. ' Many thanks,' she interrupted her esteemed physician and counsellor by saying, after the company had departed, ' but, upon second thoughts, I am not sure that I care to hear your opinion of Mr. Colborne. I have formed my own, and it is a favourable one.' Bickenbach made a soft murmur of assent, while Dr. Schott returned roughly, ' You will change your opinion, or else you will be sorry for not having changed it.' Thereupon the Countess threw herself back in her chair, and laughed heartily. The thinly - veiled apprehensions of the Doctor always made her laugh, and she was always careful to refrain from reassuring him. He would have been far less diverting than he was had it been in his power to discern the absurdity of imagining that she, who had refused countless brilliant alliances, was likely to bestow her hand or her affections upon an obscure young Briton. CHAPTER III. ENGHIEN. Ox the following day Douglas Colborne did his duty by calling at the British Embassy. Lady Royston was at home, and made herself extremely pleasant, hoping that he would not scruple to make use of her during his sojourn in Paris, and that if there was anybody in particular whom he would like to meet he would let her know. 1 For my own part,' she remarked, ' I am too good an Englishwoman to appreciate the society of other nations ; still, no doubt it does one good to rub shoulders with them from time to time. It's a wholesome sort of alterative.' He thanked her, but said that he had hardly had time as yet to assimilate the dose with which she had already been kind enough 38 THE COUNTESS RADNA to provide him. * The Countess Radna,' he observed, ' is a tremendous alterative.' ' Is she ? Well, I dare say you know her better than I do, for you have been to dinner with her, I hear. When she speaks to me she talks like anybody else ; but that may be because I am only a woman. Men, I believe, become crazy about her, and one can't wonder at it, considering how lovely she is. Never- theless, I wouldn't imitate them in that respect if I were you. In fact, I must beg as a personal favour that you won't, because if you did I should get into trouble with Peggy Rowley, of whom, I may confess to you in strict confidence, I am a good deal frightened.' Colborne laughed at the idea of anybody being afraid of Peg Rowley, whom he had known intimately from his earliest childhood, and who did not strike him as a formidable personage ; but he declared that he was in no peril of losing his heart to the fascinating Countess. 'I know my place,' said he, ' and I fully realize what a great gulf is fixed between an English country gentleman on a small scale and a Hungarian magnate. Yet I must say EXGHIEN 39 that I should like to make friends with her, especially as she seems quite disposed to be friendly. At all events, she is very candid. She told me one or two things about herself which made me feel rather sorry for her.' • That does credit to the tenderness of your heart, though I should think you might easily discover some more deserving subject for pity.' c Oh, one can't tell ; beauty and riches aren't everything. Anyhow, I hope I shall find out a little more about her before I take leave of her for ever, and I am in hopes of encounter- ing her at the Grand Prix on Sunday. Do you propose to honour the races by your presence ?' The Ambassadress shook her head ; there were a great many things which she was not permitted to do, she informed him, and Sir Edmund Royston thought that going to the races on Sunday ought to be one of them. 1 But he doesn't ask the young men how they employ their time on that da}^' she added, 1 and I suspect that your friend Mr. Lindsay will make a point of being at Longchamps. You had better get him to take you with him ; be is very well qualified to act as a cicerone.' 4 o THE COUNTESS RADNA Mr. Colborne thought this was not a bad suggestion, and, looking in at the Chancery afterwards, obtained a prompt offer of a seat in the second secretary's dog-cart for the occasion. In the plenitude of his hospitality Mr. Lindsay offered furthermore to back the favourite on his behalf ; but he declined to risk his money, alleging that he was, for once, more anxious to see the spectators than the sport. ' Well, they're worth looking at, some of them,' returned the other, and proceeded to mention a few of the ladies who appeared to him worthy of an inquiring stranger's notice. ' Oh, I don't mean women of that sort,' returned Colborne, with a slight gesture of disgust ; ' I mean high society in general, and the Countess Radna in particular.' 1 That's it, is it ?' exclaimed Lindsay, raising his eyebrows. ' You have made the most of your time, it seems. Did she give you a rendezvous, if one may venture to ask?' 4 Of course not ; but she said there was a chance of her beinof there.' 1 Then the odds are that she won't be there, and it's still longer odds that if she is there ENGHIEN 41 she won't speak to you. From what I have heard of the lady, that's her little way — an old dodge, you know, but usually an effective one. Don't blame me when she cuts you dead, that's all.' Colborne replied, laughing, that he would blame nobody for the occurrence of such a calamity — not even the Countess Radna her- self, who, supposing that she did cut him, would certainlv do so only because she had failed to recognise him, not because she had deemed it worth her while to employ any dodges, old or new, for his subjugation. But this becoming modesty did not prevent him from being a little bit disappointed and a little bit mortified by the verification of Mr. Lindsay's prophecy. The Countess Radna did attend the meeting : he saw her from afar in a stand to which he was doubtful whether he could obtain admittance, surrounded by a crowd of individuals of whom the greater part wore uniforms and decorations ; but all he got from her was one of those vague smiling bows whereby it is the custom of her sex to acknowledge the salutes of casual acquaint- ances, and the victory of the French horse, Stuart, neither aroused his enthusiasm nor 42 THE COUNTESS RADNA abased his patriotic pride. What the deuce did it matter which horse won ? He was entitled to that inward ejaculation because he had openly avowed that he was not at Longchamps for the sake of sport. Very different and much more satisfactory was the case of Mr. Lindsay, who had backed the winner and was proportionately j ubilant. ' The best colt of the year,' said he, as he climbed up into his dog-cart and took the reins, preparatory to driving his friend home. ' I knew that weeks ago, and all these fellows might have known it if they had had the sense to keep their eyes open. Well, that puts me a couple of hundred to the good, which is better than nothing, though I'm sorrv it isn't more. What have you been doing with yourself all this time ? Sloping about and studying beauty and fashion, eh ? I'm afraid you must have had rather a slow day of it' ' I didn't expect to have an exciting day,' answered Colborne somewhat gloomily. ' Of course, I don't know any of these people.' 1 What about your Countess, by the way ? She was there, for I caught a glimpse of her, looking, as usual, as if she wished herself ENGHIEN 43 anywhere else. Was she graciously pleased to notice your worship's presence ?' Colborne had to admit that her recognition of that circumstance had been of the slightest possible kind, whereupon his companion laughed aloud. ' I told you how it would be,' said he. ' If you feel any little premonitory symptoms of a weakness in that quarter, be advised by me, my dear boy, and stamp them out. Really, when you come to think of it, what conceivable comfort is there to be obtained out of playing tame cat to one of these magnificent ladies ? They like to keep a stock of tame cats, and small blame to them ; but it's no part of your duty or mine to gratify their tastes, and, luckily for us, we are not restricted, as they are, to one solitary form of amusement.' No adequate reply could be made to so sensible and succinct a summing-up of the case, nor was any forthcoming ; but its own inherent inadequacy was made manifest before Mr. Lindsay's high-stepping horse had trotted quite as far as the Arc de Triomphe. For that showy animal had not reached the turn out of the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne when he was passed with very great ease by a pair 44 THE COUNTESS RAH A A of grays, drawing a victoria in which a single lady was seated ; and presently this equipage was brought to a standstill, while a resplen- dent chasseur in a cocked hat and feathers descended from the box and approached the dog- cart, with a request from the Countess Radna that Mr. Colborne would speak to her for one moment. Mr. Colborne, it need scarcely be said, lost no time in obeying the Countess's summons, and was rather surprised to find that, after all, she had nothing of any importance to say to him. 4 1 only wanted to tell you,' was her greet- ing, ' that I shall not be beguiled by you a second time into looking on at one of these senseless contests. The betting is the only thing that enlivens them, and if one stayed at home and backed one fly against another upon a window-pane, one would be spared the discomfort of swallowing huge mouthfuls of dust.' ' Oh, there is a great deal more in horse- racing than that,' answered Colborne. ' I could have explained to you where the difference comes in if you had allowed me the chance. But you wouldn't.' ENGHIEX 45 1 Ought I to have beckoned to you ?' she asked, laughing. ' I am very sorry that I didn't happen to think of doing so ; because it is just possible that, if I had, you might have made this dreary day a shade less dreary for me. However, there is one thing to be said in favour of to-day, which is that it is nearly over, and to-morrow, if only the sun shines, may take away the taste of it. To- morrow my good Bickenbach and I are going into the country, all by ourselves, to look at green fields and gather wild-flowers and forget what sophisticated beings the force of cir- cumstances has converted us into. We are the very embodiment of pastoral simplicity from time to time, Bickenbach and I.' ' And in what particular spot are you think- ing of giving play to your pastoral disposi- tions ?' inquired Colborne, who could not help fancying that this announcement con- veyed something in the nature of an in- vitation. ' Oh, not in any very remote spot. Only at Enghien, which is reached by frequent trains from the Gare du Xord, but which is rustic enough for our purpose. You ought to visit Enghien and Montmorency some fine 46 THE COUNTESS RADNA day, and pay the tribute of a sigh to the memory of Jean Jacques Rousseau, if you have ever heard of that writer. Now I must not detain your friend's fiery horse any longer. Tell him — your friend, I mean — that I shall not be offended with him for passing me, if he can/ Douglas Colborne did not deliver the above polite message, nor, in spite of plain and direct queries, did Mr. Lindsay learn what had passed between him and the Countess Radna during their brief interview; but it seems almost superfluous to mention that the hero of this narrative was taking a return ticket for Enghien shortly before mid-day on the morrow. The railway journey to Enghien occupies half an hour or thereabouts, and so astute had been his calculations that he felt able to count with tolerable certainty upon the fact that two ladies of Continental habits who proposed to spend a day in the country would find it necessary to partake of a dejeuner a la fourchette between twelve and one o'clock. An Englishwoman might probably take a packet of sandwiches with her and eat them out of doors ; but such Spartan abstinence was hardly to be expected of those who had ENGHIEN 47 had nothing but a cup of coffee and a roll to sustain them since rising from their beds. On alighting from the train, therefore, he proceeded straight to the principal restaurant in the place, where he was rewarded b} 7 the sight of the Countess Radna and the Baroness von Bickenbach, who were seated at a little round table in the public dining-room, and one of whom, at least, did not seem to be at all more surprised by this encounter than he himself was. 1 So you have come,' said she composedly, as he approached, and while the worthy Bickenbach was giving vent to sundry guttural and perfunctory exclamations of astonishment ; ' I thought you would, and I shouldn't wonder if you were under the im- pression that I wanted you to come.' He began to protest that he had entertained no such audacious hope ; but she interrupted him by savini>" lauo-hinody, ' Oh, I did want you ; why not ? Sit down and order some food for yourself. I have eaten as much as I want ; but the appetite of our dear friend on the other side of the table knows no bounds, and you will finish before she has done even now, if you make haste.' 48 THE COUNTESS RADNA Bickenbach, whose accomplishments in- cluded only a very elementary knowledge of the English language, nodded en- couragingly at him, and he soon found that she well deserved the reputation claimed for her by her patroness. For his own part, he had no wish to enter into competition with her, and although, to keep up appearances, he disposed of some cutlets and fried potatoes, he was far less eager to appease the pangs of hunger than to ascertain what was to be done and what he would be expected to do on the conclusion of the repast. The Countess, w T ho sat watching him with an amused expression of countenance from beneath her half-closed eyelids — and who, after uttering the above recorded sentences, was pleased to continue the conversation in French — relieved his mind of all anxiety upon that point by calmly issuing her commands as she rose from the table. • Bickenbach,' said she, i is going to sketch the lake. In the matter of sketching and painting in water-colours Bickenbach is de premiere force and ought not to have her at- tention distracted by the chatter of inartistic neighbours. While she is at work, you and ENGHIEN 49 I will walk to Montmorency ; or perhaps we will only sit down somewhere in the shade and talk. At any rate, we have the whole afternoon before us ; so that it is quite un- necessary to decide at once how we will spend it.' The programme had a seductive sound, and it was not, at all events, for him to offer any objections to the carrying out of it. After paying his modest bill, he accompanied the two ladies to the margin of the lake, whither the excellent Bickenbach's easel and camp- stool and other paraphernalia had already been transported, and when he had seen her com- fortably established beneath a gigantic white umbrella he was willing enough to walk to Montmorency or any other destination with the Countess Kadna, who beckoned him away, remarking, ' Now, for the next hour or two ) we can do and say exactly what we please.' It did not please her to make a pious pilgrimage to the spots rendered classic by memories of the author of ' La Nouvelle Heloise.' She said the sun was too hot for violent exercise, and confessed, besides, that she was no very enthusiastic admirer of Jean Jacques. ' Although,' she added, ' he knew r vol. i. 4 50 THE COUNTESS RADNA a good deal — more, perhaps, than we do, in spite of our having, in one sense, so completely outstripped him. All things considered, philo- sophy is hardly worth the trouble, is it ? Nobody really knows anything, and the best thing we can do is to plod along, with our eyes fixed upon the ground and a firm con- viction that nothing outside the range of our short vision is of much importance to us as individuals. That, I am sure, is your opinion.' She seated herself, as she spoke, upon the grass beneath a spreading chestnut- tree, and Colborne hastened to follow her example. ' I suppose we all know what our immediate duties are, and I suppose the main thing is that we should do our best to fulfil them/ was his highly practical rejoinder. ' No doubt ; and what do you regard as your immediate duties ? It might be inter- esting to hear about them and how you arrived at the point of being certain that you can recognise them.' He gave her the desired information with perfect readiness and simplicity of diction. It was incumbent upon him, he thought, to stud}? agriculture, with a view to rendering his property somewhat more productive. ENGHIEN 51 Without pretending to be a political sage, he claimed some acquaintance with British domestic politics, and was inclined to believe that, if a seat in Parliament could be found for him, he ought to secure it and add such personal weight as he possessed to that of the patriots who were gallantly striving to push the wheels of the State in the right direction through the mire of an obstructive Opposition. He considered, furthermore, that he owed allegiance to those principles of conduct which have from time immemorial been held to be obligatory upon Christians and gentlemen ; and he wound up (although he had not been invited to tag a moral on to his profession of faith) by observing that those who set their own amusement before themselves as their chief object in life were very unlikely, by his way of thinking, to get any amusement out of life at all. 1 You say that for me,' remarked the Countess composedly. ' I don't know who told you that I lived only for my own amuse- ment, but nothing can be more positive than that I haven't succeeded in amusing myself as yet. Still, I admit, with gratitude, that you are amusing, for the moment.' LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 52 THE COUNTESS RADNA 1 You mean, I suppose, that I am an ass. All the same, I don't see why I am an ass. You yourself admit that nobody can look much farther ahead than the length of his nose.' c And don't you ever look further ahead than that ? What about those ideas of yours respecting your home politics which brought quite a fine colour into your cheeks when you mentioned them ? Oh, you will go far, and your nose will go on in front of vou ; you have only to follow it, as it will follow your will. The difference between you and me is that I can't follow my nose, because I have no will to direct it. It is turning for- lornly this way and that, sniffing the air and detecting no symptom of scent anywhere.' Xow, it is no very difficult matter for a man possessed of ordinary common-sense to point out that plenty of scent, true and false, is discoverable at all points of the compass. The time slipped away quite pleasantly while Colborne expounded his modest creed and endeavoured to apply it to the case of his companion, who, to tell the truth, was by no means averse to discussing herself. She affected to laugh his panaceas to scorn, but ENGHIEN 53 she confessed that she was not yet an abso- lutely convinced pessimist, and perhaps the conclusion at which he arrived after a pro- longed interchange of ideas was not so very © © -J far removed from being a correct one. 1 The long and the short of it is,' said he, ' that what you want is somebody whom you can care for more than you care for yourself. And, of course, you will meet with such a person one of these days.' 1 Shall I ? That doesn't seem to me to be proved. If he is to appear at all — naturally, you are speaking of Aim, not of her or them — he ought to have made his appearance by this time, ought he not ? Since you are so con- fident of his existence, will you tell me what he will be like ? It would save me trouble to be able to recognise him at a glance.' © © She was looking full at her interlocutor from beneath her sunshade, and he was con- scious that her glance gave the spur to his heart. Xevertheless, he was also conscious — as, indeed, he had been throughout the inter- view — that he would be a double-dyed fool if he were to let himself fall in love with one who not only was, but considered herself to be, so far above him in rank. 54 THE COUNTESS RADNA ' I'm sure I don't know what the happy man will be like,' he answered, with a half- smothered sigh, ' and I'm sure I don't want to know. I should probably detest him if I could see him, even with the mind's eye ; so it's just as well that 1 can't.' She raised her eyebrows. ' Why should you detest this shadowy per- sonage ?' she inquired innocently. 1 Doesn't one always detest the people who marry one's friends ?' ' Comme vous y allez ! — I had no idea that I had the honour of being a friend of yours. But, perceiving that his feelings were rather more wounded by this speech than she had intended them to be, she hastened to add : * Not that I object to being your friend ; pray don't imagine that. On the contrary, I ask nothing better. Let us agree to be friends, then, if you will have it so, and let us shake hands upon it, after the custom of your people.' Nothing will ever convince foreign nations that we are not perpetually shaking hands, nor is it possible to persuade them that we do not habitually devour underdone beef. These irremovable misapprehensions, with the con- ENGHIEN 55 sequences thereof, must be submitted to, and, in truth, the consequences of the former are apt to be less unpleasant than those of the latter. Douglas Colborne certainly did not find it unpleasant to take the Countess's cool, white hand ; yet her fingers had not remained for more than a few seconds within his clasp when he became aware, with a sudden, sharp shock, of something that was likely to bring a great deal of unpleasantness into his future life. Not all his prudence, nor all his clear realization of the circumstances, could help him ; he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that what he had scarcely gone the length of dreading was now an actual fact, and that there could never be any question of friend- ship between him and the Countess Radna. And while he looked at her, sitting there in the sunshine, with a half-mocking smile upon her lips, he discerned a barely perceptible change in her expression which told him that she had read what was in his mind. Neither of them spoke for a minute or two ; he was horribly disconcerted, but she did not appear to be in the least so, and presently she rose,, remarking that it was time to go and examine the results of Bickenbach's labours. So he 56 THE COUNTESS RADNA followed her in silence to the spot where the worthy Baroness was hard at work, when she surprised him by saying composedly : ' Mr. Colborne has come to bid you adieu ; he has to return to Paris by the next train. You and I, my Bickenbach, will spend the rest of the day here and go home at nightfall, like a couple of good bourgeoises' She did not offer to shake hands with him a second time, but took leave of him with a friendly little motion of her head, and he was fain to depart, inwardly abusing himself for his clumsiness and stupidity, while acknow- ledging that he had, upon the whole, been mercifully dealt with. Nevertheless, he felt, as he strode towards the railway-station, that the matter could not end there and then. Clumsy and stupid he might have been, and presumptuous into the bargain ; yet he was not quite humble enough to submit to being good-humouredly waved aside, like an importunate beggar. And if some less merciful method of dismissal was in store for him — as, no doubt, it was — it must be formulated before he could make his final bow of withdrawal and resignation. CHAPTER IV. A QUALIFIED COXGE. It does not seem very extravagant to assume that the majority of those who will honour this unpretending work with their perusal are acquainted either with the passion of love, or with some such semblance of it as may do duty for an equivalent ; so that they will, it is to be hoped, readily understand Douglas Colborne's condition of mind. He had to tell the Countess Eadna in plain words that he loved her. That she would refuse him might be a foregone conclusion ; that she would be astonished at his impudence was not im- probable. Still, he owed it to himself and to the sincerity of his sentiments to be defeated before accepting a defeat. The above being his view of the situation, it evidentlv behoved him to lose no time in 58 THE COUNTESS RADNA picking up the thread of their intercourse at a point where, if he had had all his wits about him, he would not perhaps have suffered it to drop ; and a justly irritated man he was when he found that, do what he would, he was unable to carry so simple and straightforward a programme into effect. It was not very difficult to meet the Countess, and, as a matter of fact, he did meet her three or four times during the course of the ensuing week ; but it was impossible to speak to her in private without her consent, and this she was apparently determined to withhold from him. Through the kindly intervention of Lady Royston, he obtained admission to various entertainments where the Countess Radna shone resplendent ; he was permitted to join the throng which surrounded her, and to bask for a few minutes at a time in her smiles, but she did not let him draw her away from the throng, nor would she let him into her house. He called upon her twice, but was turned back from the door both times, and really had not the face to make a third attempt. She would see him, no doubt, on her reception - day ; but what would be the use of that ? Meanwhile, he had already exceeded what A QUALIFIED CONGE 59 he had mentally decided upon as the term of his visit to the French capital ; he must soon return home. He understood, or thought that he understood, that the woman whom he loved was merely anxious to spare him and herself a more or less painful scene, and he could not but admit that her behaviour was both reason- able and considerate. All the same, that painful scene must needs take place. He would never be able to forgive himself if he were to shirk it ; and he was debating in complete perplexity by what means it was to be brought about, when, wandering down the Faubourg Saint -Honore one afternoon, he encountered a little old lady who was holding up her petticoats in both hands, thus display- ing a pair of thick ankles and immense flat- soled feet to the gaze of the irreverent. He placed himself unhesitatingly in her path, and, removing his hat, said : i How do you do, Madame von Bickenbach ? May I have a word with you ?' The little old lady dropped her skirts in order to throw up her hands. Perhaps she was really not so much surprised as she always appeared to be when anybody accosted her ; but the habit of affecting this amiable 60 THE COUNTESS RADNA astonishment had become a second nature to her. 1 Ach, Herr Je /' she exclaimed in her native tongue ; ' how you startled me !' Douglas Col borne, who did not speak German, proceeded to explain himself in his best French. He wanted, he said, without circumlocution, to know why the Countess Eadna refused to receive him. Also, whether there was any particular day or hour when he might count upon finding her at home and disengaged. He would be leaving for England no o o shortly, and he had reasons for wishing to speak to the Countess alone before he started on his journey. This statement, of course, was compromising!} 7 explicit, but he desired to be explicit, and was quite willing to com- promise himself. Bickenbach made a series of extraordinary grimaces, which, if he had only known it (but, indeed, they hardly spoke for them- selves), were designed to express sentimental sympathy. ' Mon bon monsieur,' said she (her actual words were ' Mon pon mossie'), 'you can have nothing to tell the Countess that she does not already know. There have been so A QUALIFIED CONGE 61 many like you ! It is a pity ; but there is no help for it, and if you will take the advice of an old woman that wishes you nothing but good, you will rest satisfied with having made her cry. Ma parole dhonneur I she cried, after we had returned from Enghien the other day — which, for the rest, proves very little. Go home, dear sir, and forget us. We ourselves are about to quit Paris, for we always visit our estates in Hungary at this time of year. ' 1 You will not, if I can help it, leave before I have seen you — that is, before I have seen the Countess Radna,' Colborne declared. ' What you say is kindly meant, I am sure ; but, as I dare say you will understand, it comes too late to be of any service to me. You might do me a genuine service bv begging the Countess to grant me a farewell on o o interview.' Bickenbach shrugged up her shoulders. ' As you please/ she replied. ' I cannot tell whether the Countess will receive you or not, but probably she will, and probably you will wish afterwards that she had not. The Countess has a heart of gold, vet she often causes great suffering to others, because she 62 THE COUNTESS RADNA has difficulty in believing that they are sincere. Enjin ! since it is your wish ' It was most decidedly his wish and his determination to take personal leave of this sceptical lady, whose scepticism, he nattered himself, was unlikely to remain proof against the declaration which he had to make to her. He was curious to know in what fashion she would give him his conge, that was all — that, and a pardonable disinclination to retreat until he should be compelled to do so. Therefore he thanked the friendly Baroness, saying that he counted upon her to deliver his message, which she promised to do. 4 Only,' said she, on parting with him, ' you are asking for something which cannot make you happy, and may make you very unhappy. Pray remember afterwards that I warned you of that. You will see that she will treat you as she has treated the others.' Douglas Colborne did not quite like this repeated allusion to ' the others ' ; still, of course there must have been others — heaps of others — and, after all, what difference did it make to him ? At least, she had not ap- parently lost her heart to any of the others. So, all things considered, he was disposed to be A QUALIFIED CONGE 63 grateful to his lucky star for having caused him to run against the Baroness von Bickenbach, and his satisfaction was complete when the post of the following morning brought him a short note, written in a large straggling hand upon very thick paper, which was embellished by an enormous coronet and monogram. The note, notwithstanding its brevity, was all that he could have wished or expected it to be : 4 Dear Mr. Colborxe, 1 I hear from my excellent Bickenbach that you are anxious to make your adieux to me before leaving the country. That is most amiable of you, and if you will look in between five and six o'clock to-morrow evening, you will find me at home, and enchanted to profit by this occasion of wishing you boa voyage. chosen to throw him over, and it seems that she has got into great disgrace at Court about it. She pretends not to care, they say; but of course she must care, and of course everybody declares now that she has formed some unfortunate attachment. I trust that you are not the culprit.' Lady Royston was only joking ; but the young man's heightened colour caused her to open her eyes and wonder whether she might not perchance have spoken a true word in jest ; while Peggy Rowley, who joined the pair at this moment and who had caught her last sentence, asked : 1 What are you accusing him of? Judging by his face, he is guilty. Now, Lady Roy- ston, if you have been corrupting an innocent English squire by introducing him to French 94 THE COUNTESS RADNA ladies of uncertain reputation, I will never forgive you.' Lady Royston was a good deal in awe of Peggy Rowley, whose plain speech and abrupt manner always affected her with a sensation of nervous dread as to what might be coming next. She hastened to explain that the lady whom they had been discussing was Hun- garian, not French ; that her reputation was absolutely unblemished, and that an English squire had as little to fear from her as she had from him. 4 Oh, there is a lady in the case, then/ said the relentless Peggy; "I thought he couldn't be blushing in that undisguised way for any- thing less. The same lady, perhaps,' she added, turning to Douglas, ' about whom you told me — the one who has everything that the heart of woman can desire, except a husband. And, after all, that is a blessing which isn't desired by the heart of every woman in the world. I forget what you said her name was.' Miss Rowley was speedily informed of the lady's name, and also of the circumstance that she had recently proved herself to be one of those exceptional women who do not desire DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 95 to be provided with a husband. She was likewise told of the conspicuous favours which it had pleased the Countess Radna to bestow upon Douglas Colborne, and she did not fail to chaff her young friend unmercifully about his conquest. Douglas took her chaff with perfect good - humour, though he inwardly congratulated himself upon having resisted the inclination which he had felt at the time to let her into the secret. First and last, he had let Peggy into a good many of his secrets, and he had always found her friendly and sympathetic ; but it was evident that she would not have sympathized with his present predicament, nor, in truth, could he have expected her to do so. She was too sensible — possibly also a little too hard — to sym- pathize with what was obviously ridiculous. Ridiculous it must obviously be for him to flatter himself that he had had the remotest connection with the Countess's rupture of a suitable alliance — why, indeed, should she have thought of forming such an alliance, unless she had been wholly fancy-free ? Yet the fact remains that he was excited, and in some measure elated, by the news which he had heard. At the bottom of his heart he 96 THE COUNTESS RADNA cherished a conviction that he had not been invited to travel all the way to Bagneres de Luchon for nothing. Likewise he esteemed the woman whom he loved too highly to believe that she could have been actuated bv a mere ignoble wish to retain one obscure name upon the lengthy list of her admirers. However that might be, he fully intended to keep his tryst, and was fully determined to say nothing about that intention until the time should be at hand for executing it. During the remainder of the season he met Miss Rowley pretty frequently, and they had divers long confabulations together upon political topics ; but she did not again refer to the Countess Radna, nor did he care again to introduce that lady's name into their colloquies. Early in July she left London, and it was not until the last days of that month that Mrs. Colborne's heart was glad- dened by the intelligence of the impending return of her fair neighbour to Swinford Manor. ' Peggy is coming home in a week or ten days,' the unsuspecting lady announced joy- fully to her son one morning. ' Now we may hope to keep you at home, too. I was afraid DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 97 you were getting bored here and that you would be wanting to be off to Scotland or somewhere,' ' Well, the fact is/ answered Douglas, ' that I shall be off in a day or two. I am sorry to miss Peggy ; but I dare say I shall find her here when I come back. I am thinking of spending a few weeks in the Pyrenees.' 1 The Pyrenees !' echoed Mrs. Colborne, with a look of consternation ; ' what on earth can be taking you there ? What does one do in the Pyrenees ? Are you going alone ?' ' Oh yes ; I am going alone. I can't tell you exactly what one does there. One shoots isards, I believe, if one wants to shoot them, and I suppose one ascends mountains and admires the scenery. Anyhow, it will be a change.' Mrs. Colborne said all that she could in opposition to a project which seemed to her to be singularly ill-timed. She expressed surprise that his engagements should permit of his leaving England ; she represented that he ought really to be within reach, in case of anything happening to poor Mr. Majendie, and she urged that even a temporary separa- tion between him and those who were likely vol. 1. 7 98 THE COUNTESS RADNA to influence his election was to be deprecated ; but he had answers ready for all these objec- tions, and she knew better than to jeopardize her power over her son by a fruitless assertion of domestic tyranny. Happily, it did not occur to her, after ascertaining that he was to travel alone, to inquire whether he expected to meet anybody on reaching his destination ; for he was a truthful man, and, had she put such a question, he would have had to give her a truthful reply. As it was, he was not called upon to face any embarrassing examination. Phyllis, it is true, appeared to smell a rat, and displayed an inquisitive spirit which, in his capacity of her elder brother, he deemed it incumbent upon him to rebuke ; but he dealt more leniently with Loo, who only sighed and remarked : 1 It is a great pity, your going away just when Peggy is expected home. I'm afraid she will think you don't care about seeing her.' 1 If she thinks that,' he returned, ' she will be much mistaken. Tell her from me that, unless something altogether unforeseen happens, I shall be back in time to shoot her pheasants — not to speak of her partridges. DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 99 Between you and me, though, my dear old Loo, I doubt whether she would break her heart if I never came back at all.' Loo was of a contrary opinion, and pro- claimed it so emphatically as to provoke an outburst of laughter on his part. Loo was like his mother ; she believed the ugly duck- ling of the family to be a fit mate for any swan, and would have been honestly amazed at his rejection by the greatest heiress in England. Naturally, he himself was subject to no such illusion, nor did he for a moment suppose that Peggy Rowley would accept his hand and heart if he were to offer her those treasures — which thing he had not the slightest intention of doing. Only he did think that Peggy was capable of making some sarcastic remarks respecting his sudden anxiety to inspect the Spanish frontier ; and that was why he was not sorry to escape from the country without bidding her farewell. It was on the third of August that he reached the little Pyrenean watering-place which has always been a favourite resort of fashionable Parisians, and has become more so since the patriotic pride of these ladies and gentlemen has forbidden them to disport ioo THE COUNTESS RADXA themselves at Baden-Baden. Luchon, tying in a narrow green valley, hemmed in on either side by wooded hills, above which a glimpse of snow -clad summits may occasionally be caught, is one of the most charming spots in a charming region. Its loveliness is not, perhaps, enhanced by the presence of the said ladies and gentlemen, who, when they are not gambling at the casino or listening to the band, are for the most part galloping full-tilt along the highroad on hired horses and cracking their whips ; yet there is compensa- tion in all things, and its hotels would doubt- less be less numerous and less comfortable without the distinguished patronage which the place enjoys. Douglas Colborne, at all events, had not undertaken that long, hot and dusty journey in search of solitude; so that his appreciation of a good dinner on his arrival was not marred by any sense of incon- gruity between the chattering, gaily-attired throng around him and the solemn, silent mountains by which he and they were over- shadowed. He had ascertained, by an exami- nation of the visitors' book, that the Countess Kadna was not staying at the hotel where he had taken up his quarters ; but this was DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 101 scarcely a disappointment to him. She had only said that she proposed to be at Luchon in the month of August ; she had not speci- fied a date, and he was quite prepared to await her advent patiently for a week or more, if need be. His patience, as it turned out, was not subjected even to that moderate strain ; for. wandering away from the hotel on the follow- ing morning, in obedience to the natural impulse which prompts those who are at the bottom of a valley to make for the top of some hill or other, he found himself all of a sudden in the presence of the lady with whom he was at the moment rehearsing an imaginary en- counter. She was descending and he was ascending one of the zigzag paths which lead through the woods behind the Etablissement to the grassy heights of Superbagneres. She was unaccompanied ; she held a large bunch of wild-flowers in one hand and a long stick in the other — which was, perhaps, a sufficient reason for her accosting him merely with a bow. She was not in the least taken aback, although he, who had anticipated a meeting which must have seemed to her highly im- probable, was quite deprived of the power 102 THE COUNTESS RADNA of speech by so abrupt a fulfilment of his hopes. ' You look astonished,' she remarked, with a smile. * Nevertheless, I understood you to say, when we parted, that I should find you here about this time.' ' Yes,' answered Douglas, recovering him- self, ' and, unless I am mistaken, you answered that you would be profoundly astonished if you did.' 1 Did I ? I am sorry I cannot keep my word ; but it is a fact that I am not at all astonished. However, I am sincerely pleased, if that will do as well. Have you been here long ?' He hardly knew what to make of this matter-of-course reception. He was glad that she had expected him, and glad that she was pleased to see him ; yet some show of sur- prise or perturbation on her part might have been a rather more hopeful sign. ' Anyhow, here I am/ was his rejoinder, ' and, as you know that I have only come here to meet you, you won't shut your door in my face again as vou did in Paris, will vou ?' 1 Not for the world ! I apologize for ever having been so rude, but I suppose I must DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 103 have had mv reasons. What can they have been, I wonder ? At all events, the door of Chalet des Rosiers, which is my present abode, stands open from the time the servants get up in the morning until after sunset. Bicken- bach is with me, and so is Dr. Schott, whom you may remember. By his advice I am £oino- through a course of baths : though he can't tell me — and I'm sure I can't tell him — why I should require sulphur baths. What I do require, and what is doing me an immen- sity of good, is a course of peace and liberty.' He expressed a desire to share the fruition of those blessings with her, and, as she did not forbid him to do so, they strolled through the woods together for half an hour ; after which she dismissed him, saying that it was time for her to partake of her mid-day meal. He ascertained the situation of her villa, and then bent his steps meditatively towards his hotel, endeavouring, as he went, to sum up the results of an interview to which he had looked forward for so many weeks, and which had not at all resembled his anticipations of it. In one sense it had been satisfactory enough ; but upon the whole it had puzzled and dis- appointed him. The Countess had been per- 104 THE COUNTESS RADNA fectly friendly, perfectly at her ease, and had seemed to take it for granted that during the rest of her sojourn at Luchon they would meet frequently ; but she had not chosen to allude in the most distant manner to the declaration that he had made before parting with her in Paris, and a lack of courage for which he was inclined to reproach himself had prevented him renewing it. They had simply talked about trifles like a couple of tolerably in- timate friends, which was really ridiculous. A certain virility and tenacity of purpose with which this young man was dowered, notwith- standing his genuine modesty, made him resolve that he would at least not accept the position of an amiable but impossible sonpi- rant. Thus it came to pass that, on the succeed- ing day, he betook himself to the Chalet des Kosiers with a decided step and a mind firmly set upon the speedy fulfilment of his destiny, whatever that might be. The pretty little wooden house, built in florid imitation of the Swiss order of domestic architecture, stood in the midst of a large and shady flower-garden, through which a brawling torrent, spanned by several rustic bridges, hurried on its way DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 105 down the valle} T to meet the Garonne. A fat man, who wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, w 7 as seated in the garden, smoking a long pipe with a china bowl and perusing a German newspaper. He dropped the newspaper and removed the pipe from his lips, and his hat from his head, as the visitor approached, saying : 1 1 was about to do myself the honour of calling upon you, sir.' ' How do you do, Dr. Schott ?' returned Douglas affably. ' I am glad to have saved you the trouble of a walk in this hot sun.' ' Oh, the trouble would have been nothing ; I am accustomed to taking trouble. But, to speak honestly, I should not have ventured to remind you of our so slight acquaintance if I had not been commissioned to deliver a message to you from the Countess, who, par parenthese* is not at home. Pray take a chair ; in such weather on fait bien cle se mettre a VabrV The Doctor was rather proud of his French, which he was seldom permitted to air in the presence of his patroness, whose sensitive ear would not tolerate such methods of pronuncia- tion as bar barendese or a Vapri. Douglas 106 THE COUNTESS RADNA Colborne was less fastidious ; but he did not much like Dr. Schott, who was scrutinizing him with a somewhat sardonic smile, and who, as he was aware, had not failed to notice his vexation on learning that he was not to be admitted into the house. ' Thank you,' he answered rather curtly, 1 but I don't think I'll wait, since the Countess Kadna is not at home. You had a message for me from her ?' The truth was that he fully believed the Countess to be at home at that moment ; if so, the chances were that her message would not prove to be a welcome one. However, he was wrong ; for the Countess was really out walking, and the communication which the Doctor presently made to him on her behalf turned out to be of a nature to raise his spirits and his hopes. The Countess, it appeared, had been suddenly seized with a craze for what her physician called les crandes ascensions. On the morrow she, attended by her limited suite, proposed to set forth with a view to scaling the Pic de Nethou, which is the highest summit of the Pyrenean range, and it had occurred to her that Mr. Colborne might like to be of the party. Mr. Colborne, DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 107 it need scarcely be said, asked for nothing better, and was complimented upon bis alacrity by bis interlocutor, who remarked sadly : ' You have long legs and a light body ; I have a heavy body and short legs. For you it may be a pleasure to scramble over rocks and ice and snow ; for me it is a very great misery. Also a foolish and a most unneces- sary misery.' ' Then why you should do it I don't know,' said Douglas pertinently. ' Because I am paid to do it, my dear sir,' responded the corpulent German, with a half-impatient chuckle, ; because I have to be in attendance upon my employer, for whom over-exertion is at least as dangerous as it is for me. What if she were to faint or to sprain her ankle, or even to break a limb, which is a very possible event ? I am compelled to be with her, although you are not, and I shall not be surprised if, at the end of this expedition, she has to remain in her bed for a week. I have told her as much ; but ce que femme veut P He shrugged his fat shoulders, and, after a pause, mentioned the arrangements which had 108 THE COUNTESS RADNA been made in preparation for the expedition. The start was to be effected as early as possible on the following morning ; they were to drive as far as the Hospice de Luchon at the head of the valley ; thence they were to cross the Port de Venasque on mules or on foot, and they were to spend the night ' in some horrible cavern ' on the slopes of the Maladetta. Beyond that no mule could go ; so that the ascent of the mountain itself must be accomplished by the exercise of such powers of wind and limb as these un- accustomed pedestrians might possess amongst them. 1 1 do not think,' observed Dr. Schott pensively, 'that the Baroness will climb higher than the cave ; we shall have to leave her there. As for me, I can only hope that my strength may hold out as long as the Countess's ; for where she goes I must go.' Such heroic determination deserved a better reward than the laughter with which Douglas Colborne greeted it. For his own part he was secretly in hopes that when the time came the Doctor might be prevailed upon to share Bickenbach's lonely tenancy of the cave, and that it would be his happy lot to escort the DOUGLAS KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 109 Countess to the summit, accompanied only by guides and porters, who would not under- stand what they were saying to one another. It was a pleasing vision, and it sent him back to the hotel quite exultant. CHAPTER VII. ON THE PIC DE NETHOU. It will perhaps be permitted to an old climber to doubt whether mountaineering is quite the most suitable or becoming form of exercise for ladies to adopt : he may at least take it upon himself to affirm that they will hardly find its immediate results becoming. How- ever, it is far too late in the day to protest against the participation of women in every pursuit affected by man ; and since it pleases them to hunt, shoot, drive four-in-hand, and actually invade the sanctity of the smoking- room, some of us may take comfort from the thought that we are, happily, not bound to be present when they do these things. For the rest, the Pic de Nethou is not the Matter- horn ; it is not even Mont Blanc or Monte Rosa : it is a mountain of which the ascent ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 1 1 1 implies little difficulty or danger, though it does imply fatigue and a certain amount of hardship. The Countess Radna, to whom danger and difficulty were words of delight, was easily fatigued, and hated discomfort ; hence it may be inferred that her resolution to set foot on the highest point of the Pyrenees was due to some other motive than that of enhancing the high reputation for courage which she already enjoyed. But what was her motive ? This was what Douglas Col- borne was curious to discover, and this was what he made so bold as to inquire of her, while he was plodding by the side of her mule up the slopes of the Port de Venasque, a pass which has to be traversed before the Maladetta mountains can be reached from Luchon. The sky was cloudless and the heat over- powering. Dr. Schott, who preceded his gracious employer up the narrow path, was mopping his brow and trying to accommodate the movements of his unwieldy body to those of the rough-paced animal which he bestrode ; a little farther ahead the Baroness von Bickenbach, under a huge white umbrella, was sighing and uttering despondent ejacula- tions in her native tongue ; the army of U2 THE COUNTESS RADNA porters whom the Countess had engaged were groaning under the preposterous load of baggage which she had laid upon their shoulders. She pointed to the cortege with her small gloved hand, and said : ' Can you ask ? What can be more amus- ing than to force one's fellow -creatures into making themselves thoroughly unhappy and supremely ridiculous in obedience to one's whims ? The sort of power which belongs to money is an ignoble sort of power, if you like ; but that does not make the exercise of it any the less entertaining.' 1 I don't believe you are so ill-natured as that comes to,' Colborne declared. ' Oh, you dou't? Well, it is true that I haven't paid you to walk up this steep hill, and that you are walking up it, when you might have ridden, entirely by your own good will and pleasure.' 1 It is evident that if I had mounted a mule I couldn't have walked beside you ; which seems to show that wealth is not your only source of power.' 1 You are kind enough to say so, and you mean, I presume, to convey a delicate com- pliment to my personal appearance. But in ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 113 reality I depend almost entirely upon my wealth : a few years hence I shall depend entirely upon it. And, when all is said, it isn't omnipotent. At the present moment I am in such deep disgrace that, notwith- standing all my wealth, I should scarcely be received in Vienna if I were to take it into my head to go there next winter.' 4 Yes ; I heard something about that,' said Douglas, with quickened interest ; ' Lady Roy- ston told me. I wish you would tell me the whole story — that is, if you don't mind talking about it.' 1 Not in the least,' answered the Countess, laughing ; ' only there isn't much of a story to tell, and, such as it is, it was public property from the first. Count Siedenberg did me the honour to ask me to marry him, and as Count Siedenberg is a middle-aged man of whom I have always stood rather in awe, besides being quite the most influential bachelor in Austria, I saw no reason why I shouldn't accept him. But when I came to know him more intimately, I found that he didn't inspire me with awe any longer, which robbed him of his chief attraction. Conse- quently I broke off the affair, and the vol. 1. 8 H4 THE COUNTESS RADNA grandees were furious with me. That is all.' ' I believe you threw the man over because you didn't love him, and I don't believe you accepted him because he was influential or because you were afraid of him,' said Douglas. ' Is that your view ?' asked the Countess, with a yawn. ' Possibly you may be right — in any case, the thing is over and done with ; so it doesn't much matter whether you are right or wrong.' ; It matters a great deal to me,' Douglas declared eagerly ; and he would have pro- ceeded to explain precisely why it mattered, had he not been interrupted by a request from his companion that he would step for- ward and reassure Bickenbach, who showed signs of becoming seriously alarmed by the precipitous nature of the incline up which her mule was scrambling:. The shaly acclivity which they had now reached, and which is swept during the spring by constant avalanches, was in truth some- what precipitous ; so that a nervous old lady might be excused for doubting whether she was not in some danger of presently starting an avalanche on her own account by being ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 115 hurled, head first, among the boulders that bordered the track ; but, after half an hour of agony, the Baroness was safely led through the narrow cleft which is known as the Port de Venasque, and forgot her terrors in shrill admiration of the prospect revealed to her. There are more beautiful prospects in Europe than that which is to be obtained from the Port de Venasque ; but there are few which burst upon the spectator with such dramatic suddenness. The step which takes him out of France into Spain not unfrequently lands him in a totally different weather-system, and always presents him with a totally different aspect of nature, from those which he has just quitted. The scene which Douglas Colborne and the Baroness von Bickenbach beheld at the end of their Ions: ascent was one of wild and desolate grandeur, partially obscured by heavy clouds. These hung low over the bare hills and cornfields of Aragon, breaking up that portion of the view into broad patches of light and shade ; but the rugged, menacing mass of the Maladetta, which rose directly before them, was distinctly visible, with its glaciers, its rocky slopes and its pine-forests, devastated by the passage of a thousand tern- n6 THE COUNTESS RADNA pests and avalanches. Thither the Baroness turned her eyes, after exhausting her vocabulary of adjectives (which, to tell the truth, were somewhat comically inappropriate) upon the colouring of the more distant regions, and when the Pic de Xethou was pointed out to her, she shuddered from head to foot. ' And it is to that frightful peak that you propose to take my poor Countess Helene !' she exclaimed. ' But, my dear sir, it is im- possible ! She will never reach it alive !' 4 1 think she will,' observed the Countess composedly. ' You, perhaps, would not ; but, then, you haven't my extraordinary ardour for scaling heights. The difference between you and me, Bickenbach, is that, although you can walk from the Avenue Friedlnnd to the Bastille without fatigue, which I can't, I am capable, when under the influence of excitement, of enjoying exertions and privations which you would rather die quietly at once than face. It is your plain destiny to abide in valleys ; and I promise that you shall abide peacefully in the cave of the Rencluse to-morrow until we return to you with feathers in our caps. By the way, where is that same Rencluse ? Can we see it ?' ON THE PIC DE XETHOU 117 The guides indicated its position to her, beyond an intervening ravine. It could be reached in two hours or so, they said ; so that there was no huny about resuming the march. The party, therefore, sat down to rest and to partake of the refreshment which they had earned. The afternoon was now far advanced, for the start from Luchon had not been effected until a much later hour than that originally fixed upon ; but although this delay had sub- jected them to the inconvenience of the mid- day sun, it did not compel them to hasten towards the scene of their bivouac, which, indeed, was not reached until sunshine had given place to the sharp breath of the coming night. In the meantime Douglas Colborne had been granted no further opportunity for private discourse with the Countess, who did not seem inclined to talk, and who, when she had anything to say, had addressed her obser- vations to Bickenbach. She had brought a tent with her, besides an abundant supply of rugs, quilts, pillows and other paraphernalia which provoked the subdued hilarity of her porters, and beneath this shelter she retired with the Baroness, after a fire of pine-logs had uS THE COUNTESS RADNA been lighted and the evening repast had been disposed of. ' You and I,' observed Dr. Schott, with concentrated bitterness of intonation, ' may now stretch ourselves out upon the hard rock, beside these very dirty and very badly -smelling peasants, and go to sleep, if Ave can.' ' We'll get to windward of them/ answered Douglas cheerfully. ' I wish their persons were not quite so saturated with garlic, but that can't be helped, and it's rather jolly sleeping out in the open air ; don't you think so?' ' I do not,' growled the Doctor ; ' I do not think it jolly to sleep anywhere except in a bed, and, for my part, I do not expect to sleep at all — especially as I have already a most infernal toothache. ' Douglas expressed sincere sympathy, and hastened to add that, under such trying cir- cumstances, his companion ought not to think of attempting the ascent on the morrow ; but Dr. Schott only grunted and flung himself down ujxrn the ground, with his feet towards the fire, after which he set to work to groan dismally at regular intervals. The groans of the Doctor and the thunderous ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 119 snoring of the guides and porters might have sufficed to keep the young Englishman's faculties in full working order even if he had been weary after his long walk, but he was not in the least so. He lay contentedly wrapped in the rug which he had brought with him, gazing up at the twinkling stars and meditating upon his actual and prospective position. He was excited and happy, though, to be sure, he had no real reason for being either the one or the other. So for, he had, nevertheless, been tolerably successful. If the woman he loved, and who was now slumbering only a few yards away, had not encouraged him, she certainly had not done the reverse ; he was going to spend the whole of the next day with her under conditions which must needs render intimacy unavoidable ; Bicken- bach was going to be left behind, and, since the Doctor's teeth were aching, there was good hope of his being left behind also. The most important of the many questions which suggested themselves to him seemed to be that of why the magnificent Siedenberg had been so summarily dismissed, and this was obviously a question which admitted of many answers. Answers of a most extravagant i2o THE COUNTESS RADNA and delightful character invaded Douglas Colborne's brain while he was hovering upon the border-land that separates waking from sleeping consciousness. He was roused at four o'clock by the head guide, who was shaking him unceremoniously, and who, when he had struggled into a sitting posture, impressed upon him that time was of value. The ladies, he said, were already awake and had had a cup of coffee. Dien merci! only one of them intended to undertake the ascent. In explanation of this ungallant ejaculation, he added that with women one could never tell what might happen, and that the weather was not to be depended upon. ' It may change from one moment to another ; but, with luck, we shall reach the summit and return before the rain begins. Only it would have been better if we could have set off an hour ago. I did not wake you : what would have been the use when Madame la Comtesse insisted upon making her toilette as if she were going to listen to the music at Luchon ?' It was but a hasty and scanty toilet that Douglas Colborne was permitted to make, although, so far as he could judge, the ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 121 weather was all that could be desired ; for the stars were still shining brightly, and no clouds were visible. He was joined almost immediately by the Countess, who was quite ready for a start, arid who, to his great joy, prevailed upon — or rather ordered — Dr. Schott to remain where he was and nurse his tooth- ache. Everything had fallen out most for- tunately: he could not help saying so as he took his place in the long line which was presently formed, and the low responsive laugh of his next neighbour did not fail to gladden his heart. The scaling of the Pic de Nethou is like the scaling of a hundred other peaks — that is to say, it can be accomplished with perfect ease by experienced persons, while it is trying, tiring, and even dangerous, to those who are in no condition for the achievement of such feats. The Countess Radna, who was a delicate woman, and who did not know the meaning of a snow-slope, proved herself to be possessed of courage as well as determina- tion — otherwise she would infallibly have acknowledged herself beaten at the expiration of the first hour. As it w 7 as, she held out to the end, thereby earning some grudging words 122 THE COUNTESS RADNA of praise from the chief guide and the un- bounded admiration of Douglas Colborne, who perceived quite early during the ascent that she really had not strength enough for it, and did not hesitate to implore her to give the thing up. It was, however, past nine o'clock when the final arete — known as the Pont de Mahomet — by which the summit is reached had been successfully traversed, and the guides were unanimous in declaring that only a very brief halt could be safely indulged in. It would take a good nine hours to get hack to Luchon, they said ; besides which, there was certainly going to be a thunderstorm before long, and thunderstorms on the Mala- detta were not always amusing. The Countess, however, vowed that neither guides nor weather nor any other considera- tion, person or thing on earth should induce her to hurry herself. A glass of champagne which Douglas had poured out for her had revived her spirits and partially overcome her exhaustion ; by a chance of rare occurrence at that altitude, there was no wind ; and she found it very pleasant to rest upon a sun- warmed rock, to survey the glaciers, the snow- ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 123 slopes, the innumerable peaks and valleys which stretched away around and beneath her, and to listen to the congratulations and compliments of her companion. 1 We don't want to be back at Luchon before bedtime,' said she, ' and if we do get caught in a thunderstorm, I dare say we shan't be struck by lightning. Besides, after all the perils that we have been through, such a commonplace one as that would be quite un- worthy of our notice. Don't you love risking your life ? Little as I value mine, the most exhilarating sensation that I know of is placing it in danger ; and more than once to-day I have had the satisfaction of feeling that a single false step would have made an end of me — and of you too, since we were roped together, wouldn't it ?' ' Yery likely,' answered Douglas. ; I didn't in the least enjoy the moments that you speak of, and I was very glad when they were over. I don't mind risking my life, if I must ; but I can't see the fun of risking it unneces- sarily.' ; Oh, what a true Englishman ! You are so phlegmatic, you islanders, that you don't deserve half the credit you get for your sang- 124 THE COUNTESS RADNA froid. You are born like that ; you could not be different if you tried. 7 ' I suppose all nations are born with national characteristics,' observed Douglas. ' I'm rather glad that swagger isn't one of ours. Nevertheless, to show you that I have some romance in me, in spite of my British blood, I will confess that I would lay down my life for you at any moment, without hesi- tating, if you asked me for it.' She stared at him for a moment and then laughed a little. ' Ah,' she exclaimed, ' if that were true ! — but of course it isn't ; though, no doubt, you think it is.' After this there was a longish period of silence, during which the Countess appeared to be absorbed in contemplation of the view. Perhaps she was not looking at it ; but, if she had been, it would have deserved the homage of her silent admiration. There was scarcely a summit of the Pyrenean chain which was not visible, from the Pic des Posets, the Vignemale and the distant Mont Perdu, westwards, to the Canigou on the extreme east ; the Spanish mountains and plains were veiled by a dark mist which was gradually shaping itself into clouds ; but on the side ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 125 of France the sky was serene and the atmo- sphere as clear as crystal. Everywhere the colouring had a soft, warm brilliancy unknown in Alpine regions. 'I wish,' said Douglas suddenly, 'that I might ask you something.' She started and turned her face towards him. ' You are permitted to ask,' she re- plied, 'and in all probability you will be answered. I have very little to conceal.' * Then, will you tell me truly why you wouldn't marry that Count Siedenberg ?' 'I have told you already — what I said yesterday was perfectly true. My husband, if ever I take one, will have to be my master, and it was plain that Count Siedenberg would not be that/ 4 You speak as if love had nothing to say to the matter. He did love you, I pre- sume ?' I Really, I had not the curiosity to make many inquiries upon the subject. Oh yes, I dare say he loved me — as men love.' I I don't quite know what you mean by that; but I know how one man loves, and I can't help fancying that you know too. Is it of the slightest use ? I came out here from 126 THE COUNTESS RADNA England to ask whether it was of the slightest use, and you will have to give me an answer before I go back. Won't you answer me now and have done with it ?' The Countess raised her eyebrows. ' You seem to have profited by my hint,' she re- marked ; ' but I didn't say that I should fall in love with a man, or even marry him, simply because he was masterful ; I only meant to say that I shouldn't do either the one or the other if he wasn't. I believe I also told you in Paris, with the most brutal candour, that I didn't love you.' ' Immediately after which you mentioned that you would be at Bagneres de Luchon in August.' ' Do you know that that is rather an im- pertinent insinuation ? I am sure you don't, or you wouldn't have made it; and I am sure you must forget that I am an unprotected woman on the top of a lonely mountain. Had we not better adjourn the debate instead of quarrelling here — which would really be a shade too ridiculous, considering that we are bound to descend more or less hand -in - hand.' Douglas smiled and frowned. ' I suppose I ON THE PIC DE NETHOU 127 am very clumsy and matter-of-fact,' said he, after a pause, ' and I suppose I ought not to expect everything to be put in black and white for me. Still, I should like to have my position made clear. What I understand is that you don't love me, but that you don't forbid me from trying to make you love me. Is that so ?' ' How can I prevent your trying ?' returned the Countess composedly. ' If you fail, you will probably be angry and disappointed for a time ; if you succeed, you will, as I pointed out to you some months a^o, tret Yourself into quite a maze of troubles. The situation is not an agreeable one, but you will do me the justice to acknowledge that I am not respon- sible for it.' Whether she was entitled to claim exemp- tion from responsibility on that score may appear doubtful to the reader ; but it did not appear so to Douglas Colborne. who joy- fully acquitted her and clutched at the straw of hope held out to him. AVhat she was certainly responsible for was undue and un- wise delay at a height of nearlv twelve thousand feet above the sea, while a change of weather was threatening, and this the head 128 THE COUNTESS RADNA guide, for one, was resolved to tolerate no longer. ' A lions en route!' said he decisively and rather roughly. l If we reach the R end use before the storm bursts, we shall have better luck than we deserve — cest moi qui voas en reponds /' So the Countess raised her aching limbs with some difficulty, and presently the ex- pedition set forth upon its downward march. CHAPTER VIII. THE RESULTS OF A THUNDERSTORM. To set out upon a forlorn hope and to dis- cover that the hope is not, after all, an altogether forlorn one is, it must be allowed, a legitimate subject for rejoicing ; and Douglas Colborne, as he followed his leader across the knife-edge of the Pont de Mahomet, was an exultant man. The Countess, who followed him, and to whom during the progress of the descent he kept on turning round with words of encouragement and proffered assistance, was a good deal less cheerful ; but the Countess was dead tired, and her thoughts were, for the time being, of a totally different nature from his. Most people are under the impression that it is less fatiguing to go down hill than up ; but that is because most people know very little about mountaineering, and vol. i. 9 i 3 o THE COUNTESS RADNA are unacquainted with the agreeable sensation of having a broken back and a pair of broken knees. ' This may be a pleasure/ the poor Countess Radna ejaculated, after she had for the third or fourth time called a halt in the midst of a half-melted snow-slope ; ' but it would be difficult to persuade me that anyone can really enjoy it. For my own part, I have had enough of it. I wanted to see what it was like, and now I know. For the future I shall be contented to sit in valleys and pity the deluded maniacs who insist upon scramb- ling out of them.' The unfortunate part of it was that she could not be permitted to stand still and bemoan herself. The guides were out of all patience, and Douglas himself, Avho had not at first been inclined to attach much impor- tance to their prognostications, was compelled ere lono; to acknowledge that some atmo- spheric disturbance was at hand. As the day advanced, the clouds gathered and the sky grew dark ; suddenly a furious gust of wind swept up the mountain-side, driving the snow before it and almost lifting the pedestrians off their feet ; a second and a third gust, each THE RESULTS OF A THUNDERSTORM 131 increasing in violence, succeeded it at in- tervals, and the shelter of the Eencluse was still far away. There was evidently nothing for it but to push on and turn a deaf ear to the entreaties of the exhausted lady. There was, however, no possibility of escaping the approaching storm. What thev did manage to accomplish, before the first flash of lightning half blinded them and the first clap of thunder rattled in their ears, was to reach an overhanging cornice of rock which could not, indeed, be said to afford much shelter, but which might preserve them from being buried alive in the tonrmente which was certain to ensue. Such, at least, was the opinion expressed by the chief guide, Avho, remarking that it would be madness to pro- ceed any farther, made the Countess station herself with her back against the rock, but could not induce her to join him in swallow- ing a glass of raw brandy. 'As you please, madam,' said he. 'You will be glad of it in another quarter of an hour— that is, if we are any of us alive in another quarter of an hour.' Hardly were the words out of his mouth, when the tempest which he had foreseen broke 1 32 THE COUNTESS RADNA forth and rendered any other words that may have been uttered inaudible. Exactly what happened neither Douglas Colborne nor the Countess Radna could ever afterwards describe. They could remember nothing except the howling and shrieking of the wind, the deafening concussions of successive thunder- claps, the darkness of the air, which seemed suddenly to have been converted into a dense cloud of swirling snow, and a sensation of deadly cold. Probably the worst was over, when one of the porters was heard to scream out in an agonized voice, ' Nous sommes perdusP Probably also he had made the same hasty assertion half a dozen times already without attracting the attention of his neigh- bours. But now both Douglas and the Countess caught his words ; and, somehow or other, it had come to pass that at that moment Douglas's right arm was tightly clasping the Countess's waist. ' Is it true ?' she gasped. ' Is it true that we must die ?' He honestly believed that it was. The storm did not seem to him to show any sign of abating ; he was more than half buried in the drifting snow ; he had, of THE RESULTS OF A THUNDERSTORM 133 course, no thought of abandoning his help- less companion to her fate, nor could he feel the slightest hope of extricating her alive from so desperate a plight. Therefore he prepared himself, and endeavoured to prepare her, for what he deemed to be inevitable. She behaved very well. She was fright- ened, but she was not cowardly ; she retained full possession of her senses, and, at the pass to which she and he were reduced, she saw no reason to refuse him the avowal for which he pleaded. ' Yes,' she said, : I love you; and it was because I loved you that I could not make myself marry that man. Perhaps, if we had been £oino; to live, I might have told you so some day, though I don't think I should have told you ; but it doesn't matter now. What will happen ? Shall we just fall asleep, or shall we struggle ? I don't feel as if I should strutrode.' Many men and women fancy that death, under certain given circumstances, would be blissful. It is impossible to say whether they are mistaken or not, because the dead are, most unfortunately, debarred from communi- cating their experiences to us ; but what is beyond all dispute is that an anticlimax is a 134 THE COUNTESS RADNA very humiliating and provoking thing. Possi- bly the Countess Radna may have been pro- voked and humiliated when the thunderstorm rolled away eastwards, leaving a clear blue sky in its wake, and when she was assured that nothing more terrible lay before her than a wearisome descent through masses of freshly - fallen snow; but it is more likely that she was too fatigued to concentrate her thoughts upon any subject outside that of her fatigue. At all events, she plodded forward mechanically, in obedience to instructions, and nothing but monosyllables passed her lips until the safe haven of the Renclu-e was once more reached. As for Douglas, he did feel that he owed her an apology ; yet, pardonably enough, that did not prevent him from feeling triumphant and jubilant. She loved him, and she had confessed that she loved him : what more could he ask ? He was so modest as to ask her for nothing more just then, and so con- siderate as to turn his back and move away while she was being enfolded in the tearful embrace of the terrified Bickenbadi. Dr. Schott, whose alarm had been fully equal to that of the Baroness, and who was naturally indignant, now that his anxiety was THE RESULTS OF A THUNDER STORM 135 allayed, joined the young Englishman and proceeded to rate that blameless individual roundly. ( It is fortunate for you, sir,' said he, 'that you have escaped with your life. It would have been very unfortunate for you, let me tell you, if you had escaped with your life and if the Countess Radna had perished. You may congratulate yourself that your folly and imprudence have had no worse conse- quences, so far.' Douglas was in too seraphic a mood to quarrel with any blustering German doctor. 'I assure you.' he answered, laughing, 'that I am quite as thankful to Heaven as I ought to be for having preserved all our lives. I didn't order a thunderstorm, you know, and, for the matter of that, it wasn't I who planned this ascent. However, as things have turned out. there's no occasion to scold anybody. All's well that ends well.' ' ^Yho tells vou that we have reached the end ?' growled the irate Doctor. ; We haven't even reached Luchon yet, and, as far as I can understand, there is great doubt whether we shall be able to cross that vile pass again before nifrht. One thing I will venture to 1 36 THE COUNTESS RADNA answer for, and that is that the Countess will not recover from what she has gone through without recovering from an illness. You do not know Avhat it is to be a delicate woman with a delicate chest and to have your con- stitution subjected to strains which it will not bear. Which it will not bear,' repeated Dr. Schott emphatically and fiercely, while he thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers and nodded at his interlocutor. Although Douglas Colborne could not admit that he was in any way answerable for the infirmities of the Countess Radna's constitution, he was greatly concerned at hearing so despondent a forecast from a competent authority, and it did not occur to him that the Doctor might have other reasons for being surly and out of temper than those which had been mentioned. ' You don't really think that she has caught a chill, do you ?' he asked anxiously. ' She must be dreadfully tired, of course; but she will be none the worse for that after a night's rest, I hope.' ' You talk at your ease about a night's rest ! It is in your power, no doubt, to obtain a night's rest by merely THE RESULTS OF A THUNDERSTORM 137 yourself in a blanket and lying down upon the wet ground ; but it is not in her power to do such things. I cannot tell you whether she has caught a chill or not ; I can only tell you that it will be very wonderful if she has not, and that she quite certainly will catch one unless she can be taken to the Chalet des Rosiers this evening.' That being so, it obviouslv became a matter of primary importance to a practical man that the Countess Radna should be transported to the desired spot by the desired time, and of this task Douglas Colborne did eventually acquit himself, though he had some trouble about it. The Countess, when she was urged to mount the mule that was waiting for her, declared at first that she was incapable of stirring hand or foot, and really did appear unfit to start upon a long ride ; while the guides, as well as the Baroness Bickenbach, pronounced themselves in favour of a rest and a second al fresco night. But Mr. Colborne had a strong will of his own, which he now thought proper to exercise ; so that he ended by carrying his point. It was, how- ever, a long business, and he had to submit to many reproaches and remonstrances, both 138 THE COUNTESS RADNA tacit and outspoken, before nightfall, "when he had the gratifi cation of landing his charges safely at the Hospice de Luchon. There the carriage which the Countess had ordered to be in attendance was awaiting her ; the four horses were harnessed with as little delay as possible, and away she drove with her two companions, after taking a brief and un- ceremonious leave of the young Englishman, to whom it apparently did not occur to her to offer a lift. She had, indeed, scarcely spoken to him or looked at him since their departure from the Rencluse. She had seemed to be half stupefied by sheer weariness, and he had been unwilling to disturb or annoy her by anything beyond an encouraging word or two from time to time. He was not in the least offended by the persistent manner in which she had ignored his proximity ; he had understood that she required a little time to recover her- self ; he was thankful that she had now the prospect of a good night's rest in a com- fortable bed, and he set forth quite con- tentedly, wuth the guides and porters, to trudge six miles into Luchon in the dark. 1 Ce que cest que les femmes P growled the THE RESULTS OF A THUNDERSTORM 139 head-guide, as they plodded along the road. ' That lady was within a very little of killing us all this morning ; but she sa} T s nothing about extra pay. As for me, it is not a hundred, no, nor five hundred francs that would tempt me to embarrass myself with her upon the snow a second time !' But this worthy man and his subordinates obtained a handsome addition to their daily pay out of the pocket of Mr. Douglas Colborne, who was of opinion that the day's experiences had been worth very much more than that to him. It is needless to say that he was at the Chalet des Eosiers at the earliest permissible hour on the morrow, and it is almost equally needless to add that he was not admitted into the presence of the temporary mistress of that charming dwelling. He was received bv the Baroness von Bickenbach, who informed him that the Countess was far too unwell to see him, but admitted, somewhat reluctantly, that her illness was not serious. Dr. Schott thought that she might be able to come downstairs in the afternoon, and hoped that the evil consequences which he had at first apprehended might now be averted, with great 140 THE COUNTESS RADNA care. ' Only, dear sir, there must be no more of this climbing up mountains ; it is too dangerous and too exhausting. You your- self must perceive that.' i I will promise you that there shall be no more of it,' answered Douglas, not caring to defend himself against an implied accusation which everybody seemed determined to fasten upon him, notwithstanding his innocence. ' I will call again in the course of the after- noon, then.' Bickenbaoh, who evidently had not been taken into the confidence of her employer, begged him not to give himself that trouble, and assured him that he would not be admitted into the house if he did ; but he was of a different opinion, and it turned out that he was right. AVhether the Countess guessed that he meant to see her, and that he generally contrived to do the things which he really meant to do, or whether she herself was anxious to have done with an inevitable interview, may be doubtful ; but certain it is that, when he presented himself at her door later in the day, he was at once ushered into the drawing-room, where he found her alone, lying upon a sofa and arrayed in an elaborate THE RESULTS OF A THUNDERSTORM 141 and costly tea-gown. She held out her hand to him, saying quickly : ' Yesterday is rubbed out of our lives, is it not ? We start again where we were before all those horrors happened and scared us out of our senses.' He took her hand and knelt, down beside her, laughing. ' What do you call horrors ?' he asked. ' I was not at all horrified at being told that you loved me, Helene, and neither you nor I, nor anybody else in the world., can ever rub the memory of that moment out of my life, you may be sure.' 1 That is nonsense,' she returned, swinging her feet off the sofa with a swift movement and assuming a sitting posture ; ' it is un- generous, too. You know very well that, when I told you that, I thought I was at the point of death. Now I am alive, which changes evervthino'.' 1 It may change your intentions ; it can't possibly change the fact that you love me,' responded Douglas composedly ; ' and now that I know that, it will be a hard matter to make me relinquish you.' She was impressed by his quiet determina- tion, which all her arguments and all the feminine ingenuity which she employed in 142 THE COUNTESS RADNA endeavouring to convict him of lack of chivalry did not avail to shake for one moment. She could not deny her love, she could not persuade him that, for his own sake, he would be better advised to bid her farewell and go away, and when he asked her whether she wished to dismiss him because his social position was inferior to hers, she was un- able to accuse herself of such ignoble motives. ' Then,' he concluded, calmly but trium- phantly, ' there is no more to be said. We shall be man and wife ; we shall be as happy together as two people ever were, and we shall certainly not allow our happiness to be interfered with by mere differences of rank, or wealth, or nationality, or religion.' * Ah !' she sighed, ' I don't know whether you will be happy, although you are choosing your lot for yourself with your eyes open. I shall be happy, I think ; because, oddly enough, it seems to me that I have found my master at last. I am very tired, do you know, of ordering my fellow-mortals about, right and left, and seeing them run. But I warn you that we shall have some quarrels ; it isn't in a moment that one shakes off the habits of a lifetime.' CHAPTER IX. GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY. Miss Margaret Rowley, like the majority of wealthy and unemployed people, had always an immensity of work on hand, and could seldom manage to get through half of her self-imposed jobs in the course of the day. She was in the habit of asserting that if only she had time to look after things herself she would have the very best garden in England ; but this opinion was not shared by her head- gardener, Mr. Peter Chervil, who naturally did not like to tell her that her interference was usually, if not invariably, productive of disastrous consequences. Peter Chervil, being an ancient retainer, and having little fear of dignitaries before his eyes, was not in the least disposed to submit to instructions re- specting his own business from one whom he i 4 4 THE COUNTESS RADNA still looked upon as a mere child ; so that he and his mistress seldom met without a more or less amicable interchange of home truths. One fine afternoon in the month of August they met, and, in accordance with precedent, lost no time in flying at one another's throats. Peggy, who, for a wonder, had nobody staying with her, and had resolved to devote a good two hours to gardening, had arrayed herself in a short skirt, had armed herself with a spud, and had sallied forth fully determined upon obtaining replies to several very im- portant questions. First, why were there no eucharis lilies ? Secondly, how was it that, after all the money which she had expended upon begonias during the last two years, everybody in the neighbourhood could beat her with them ? Thirdly, would Peter be good enough to explain any particular reason that he might have for allowing two of the greenhouses to be simply devastated by green fly ? She had other minor matters to inquire into, but these were the chief, and she felt that her case as it stood was a tolerably strong one. The tall, thin, gray - bearded individual whom she ran to earth in the potting- shed, GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY 145 and at whose head she hastened to hurl the principal counts of her indictment, drew his hand several times across his unshaven upper lip before he made any response. 4 Euch'ris lilies?' said he at length, with a smile of pitying wonder. ' Did you think as you was goin' to have 'em all the year round then, miss ?' ' 1 don't see why J shouldn't,' answered Miss Rowley boldly. I No ; that's what you'd expect, I make no doubt. Same with begonias, I dessay. Same with pretty well everything. Ah ! it ain't much as you knows about gardening Miss Peggy.' I I know what my garden costs me, at all events,' the lady declared. ; Do you, now ? I shouldn't ha' thought as you'd have found out as much as that. Not but what it costs a deal more nor it ought, and so I've told you many and many's the time ; on'y 'tain't no manner o' good for me to speak. Well, you'll larn somethin' as you grow older, maybe. Don't come blowin' of me up because I ain't the Creator of this world, and can't play miracles with it, that's all' VOL. I. 10 146 THE COUNTESS RADNA 1 Anyhow, I don't expect anything so miraculous as reasonable civility from you, Peter ; one doesn't expect a bigoted Radical to be either reasonable or civil.' The lines of Mr. Chervil's weather-beaten visage relaxed. A change of subject was not unwelcome to him, because the fact was that he had had a little misfortune with those begonias, and he did not wish to talk about it. It is best to pass over little misfortunes of that description in silence, especially when you have to deal with women, who never can be made to understand them. So he said : 1 Xow, look 'ee here, Miss Peggy : what I always says is, " Business is business, and politics is politics." My business I know, and don't want no man, nor yet no lady, for to pint it out to me. Politics is, as you may say, a sealed book to me. Consequently, when parties comes askin' me for my vote, IVe got to take the word of one or other of 'em as 'twon't be misused. Very well ; I takes the word of Mr. Gladstone, him bein', by my way of thinkin', the people's friend.' ' That only shows how utterly unfit you are to exercise the franchise. However, you may perhaps be prevented from ruining your- GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY 147 self and your country ; and although you are a very ignorant and obstinate man, you can't refuse to recognise plain facts when they are placed before your eyes. Of course you have never taken the trouble to discover for your- self what Home Eule would mean if such an iniquitous measure were ever carried.' * I have not, miss. Have you, if I may make so bold as to ask ?' ' Yes; and I can make the whole question clear to you in less than a quarter of an hour.' This was a tolerably audacious under- taking ; but it was not through any lack of audacity, or even of convincing logic, that it resulted in ignominious failure. Peter Chervil listened patiently to his mistress's concise summing up of a difficult problem, and, when she had made an end of speaking, merely remarked : ' Well, miss, 'tis not for me to contradict my betters, and all you say may be quite correct. Sim'larly, it may not. There's a many folks, with and without Right Honour- able to their names, as don't hold with you, you see ; and how is a poor uneddicated gar- dener to judge between you ? Now, if 'twas a question of euch'ris lilies or begonias, I 148 THE COUNTESS RADNA should know where I was. But I can't reely promise for to give my vote to young Mr. Colborne, miss, though he's a nice young gentleman and a friend o' yourn.' 1 If he were a nasty young gentleman and an enemy of mine you would vote for him, I have no doubt. I have a great mind to turn Radical myself, because then you would cer- tainly support the Tory candidate, and very likely you would lead the whole flock of other geese after you. — I am not at home.' This last assertion was thrown at the butler, who was now seen approaching along the gravel path with a fell intent which there was no mistaking. ' So I told Mrs. Colborne, miss,' answered that functionary respectfully ; ' but she said she had seen you in the garden as she drove up, and she would wait until you came in.' Miss Rowley sighed impatiently. ' You ought to have told her that she couldn't have seen me,' she returned. ' Well, I suppose I must go. I had several things to say to you about the garden, Peter, when you interrupted me by beginning to talk treason and sedition ; but I shall be out again presently, so don't go away, please/ GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY 149 It has already been intimated that Peggy Rowley was a person for whom Mrs. Colborne cherished sentiments of the warmest affection, and these were to a great extent reciprocated. Still, one does not quite like even one's most intimate friends to force their way into the house when one is 'not at home' ; so that Miss Rowley's face, as she entered the drawing-room and Greeted her visitor, wore a distinctly interrogative expression. Mrs. Colborne jumped up, seized her by both hands, and kissed her on both cheeks. If Mrs. Colborne's manner, which was really a very perfect manner of its kind, had a fault, that fault may have been that it was a shade too effusive. ; My dear,' she began, ' I know I am inex- cusable; you didn't want to be bothered with me, and I have forced you to be bothered with me. Strike, but hear me. I have had a letter from Douglas which has startled me out of my seven senses, and I couldn't for the life of me have gone home without having told vou about it.' Miss Rowley took a chair and observed : 4 He is going to be married to some fascinating foreigner, I suppose. I expected as much.' 150 THE COUNTESS RADNA 1 How extraordinary of you to have ex- pected it ! ? exclaimed the elder lady admiringly. ' But, then, you are so wonderfully clever. For my own part, I was no more prepared to hear of such a thing than I was to hear of his having lost his heart to a barmaid. All his life he has been such a good, steady fellow, and has never given me a moment of anxiety.' A closer observer than Mrs. Colborne might have detected a slight diminution of the healthy colour which graced Miss Row- ley's open countenance ; but it was in an absolutely steady and unconcerned voice that the latter inquired : ' Are there barmaids in France? and does he propose to espouse one of them ? I hope not, because if he does we shall assuredly lose the seat at the next election.' ' Oh dear no !' replied Mrs. Colborne ; ' it isn't so bad as that. The lady is the only living representative of a very old family, and is enormously rich, he tells me. She is a certain Countess Radna, a Hungarian heiress, whom he met in Paris last spring. From some points of view it may be considered a great match for him, though it is hardly what I should have chosen.' ' Men have a way of choosing for them- GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY 151 selves,' remarked Miss Rowley, *' and men who are worth their salt always do so. I don't see that you have much to complain of, especially as the woman is rich. The good old days of bribery and corruption are over ; still, it does a candidate no sort of harm to be provided with a rich wife. Free and inde- pendent as the electors are, they naturally feel some prejudice in favour of a man who has plenty of money and is likely to spend it in the country. Please give my warmest con- gratulations to Douglas when you write.' Mrs. Col borne looked relieved, and indeed felt so. She had been almost certain that her son intended to propose to Peggy Rowley, and almost certain that his offer would be accepted ; but, since she has been mistaken in her premises, it seemed possible that she might also have been mistaken in her con- clusions. So much the better : for it would have been a very sad thing if this unexpected behaviour on Douglas's part had brought about a breach of the friendly relations which had so long subsisted between Stoke Leighton and Swinford Manor. ' I was afraid you wouldn't like it,' she confessed half involuntarily. 152 THE COUNTESS RADNA * I ? Why on earth should I dislike it ? It is no business of mine, so long as it doesn't endanger the election ; and it evidently won't have that effect.' ' Oh, but you are a friend of mine — and of his/ pleaded Mrs. Col borne reproachfully; ' his marriage must, I am sure, interest you a little bit more than the marriage of any Tom, Dick or Harry whom the Carlton might have sent down here to stand as Mr. Majendie's successor.' She added, with a sigh, ' I don't think / quite like it. Money isn't everything, and this Countess Radna, by his account of her, is an odd sort of person. He says she is a freethinker and that she doesn't care about being married in church, though she will consent to a religious cere- mony if he insists upon it — as of course he will. That doesn't sound promising, does it?' 'I'm sure I don't know,' answered Miss Rowley ; i it depends upon what sort of promises you are anxious to exact. She is a genuine Countess, and has a genuine fortune, I presume ? ' ' Oh yes ; she is in the Almanacli cle Gotha; these Radna people appear to have been semi- royalists for generations past, like the Princes GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY 153 de Ligne,' replied Mrs. Colborne with a touch of maternal pride. i Still, one doesn't exactly like her being a sceptic.' 'One doesn't exactly like a great many things which one is compelled by the force of circumstances to lump,' observed Miss Rowley. ' I was explaining to my gardener when you arrived that I didn't exactly like having no begonias worth mentioning, and he was giving me to understand that nothing prevented me from availing myself of the customary alternative. If I were you, I should swallow the Countess Radna's scepti- cism with a good grace and write a kind letter of congratulation to Douglas. You may depend upon it that he will take his own way, and he will probably be grateful to you if you abstain from making his way rough for him.' Mrs. Colborne could not but feel that this was good advice. It was satisfactory also that it should come from a quarter whence criticism of a less friendly and matter-of- course description might have been antici- pated. She determined to act in accordance with it, and, after another quarter of an hour's conversation and a cup of tea, took her 154 THE COUNTESS RADNA departure, obviously — perhaps even a trifle too obviously — contented with the outcome of her visit. After she had gone, Peggy Rowley sat for a while beside the tea-table, frowning medita- tively at space. At length she rose, stepped out into the garden through the open window, and headed once more for the potting- shed. But apparently she had forgotten the instruc- tions which she had intended giving to her head-gardener, for when she found him busily engaged in the operation of shifting a long row of stove-plants into larger pots, all she had to say to him was : ' Well, Peter, I have just heard something which may cause you to reconsider your resolution as to the next election. Mr. Colborne is going to be married to a lady who has plenty of money, and who will probably spend her money in this neighbourhood if her husband is elected. That makes a difference, doesn't it ?' 4 Not to me, miss,' answered the old man, with a swift side-glance at his mistress ; ' her money won't come my way, I'm afeard. Shouldn't wonder if 'twas to make a difference to others, though. Marriage as you approve GARDENING AND PHILOSOPHY 155 of, miss — if I might make so bold as to ask ?' ' Between ourselves, I don't altogether approve of it, Peter ; because the lady is not an Englishwoman, and I think it would have been better for Mr. Colborne to marry an English heiress. Still, since she is an heiress, he can't be said to have done badly — and he has a right to please himself.' ' Right or no right, 'tis what they mostly in general does, miss,' observed Mr. Chervil philosophically. ' Men and plants, 'tis all as one — the young uns can't tell what's good for 'em, nor yet won't do what they are wanted to do, for all the care you can give 'em. Xatur', you see, miss — that's where 'tis — Natur' won't be controlled. I shan't vote for un — no, nor shouldn't, not if he was goin' to marry the Queen of Sheba in all her glory : but, Lord bless your heart ! that don't make no odds. The man as you back, he'll get the seat, miss ; we all knows that well enough. And I suppose you'll go on backin' Mr. Colborne. though vou don't hold with furriners.' ' I shall certainly back him as long as he continues to represent Conservatism in this 156 THE COUNTESS RADNA division,' Miss Rowley declared. ' I might perhaps draw the line at being represented in Parliament by an alien ; but aliens, I am happy to say, generally attach themselves to } 7 our party. Mr. Colborne remains an Englishman, and what does it matter to me whether he selects his wife from France or Germany or Hindostan ?' ' Nothing at all, miss, 1 responded Peter with alacrity and emphasis ; ' and so I've always said. " Colbornes," says I ; " well, come to that, there was Rowleys in these parts long afore Colbornes was heard of ; and as for comparin' this here property with Stoke Leigh ton, why, 'tis sheer nonsense and foolishness for to talk so," I says. " Our Miss Peggy," I says, " she don't need to go to Stoke Leigh ton for to find her match," I says.' Miss Rowley's laughter was not free from a tinge of embarrassment. ' I suppose,' she remarked, ' that, when you and your friends fuddle yourselves together at the alehouses, you are in the habit of discussing me freely. I don't in the least mind your doing so ; only you might, in the interests of truth, mention at the next merrv meeting: that I have con- GARDENING AXD PHILOSOPHY 157 templated marrying Mr. Colborne quite as little as be has ever contemplated marrying me.' She turned away as she spoke, and was thus spared from seeing the incredulous and compassionate smile with which her assertion was received. CHAPTER X. AX ACCOMPLISHED FACT. k I don't see the use of grumbling at him, Loo,' said Phyllis Colborne to her elder sister, in whose company she was drinking tea beneath the shade of a copper-beech one fine afternoon in September. ' We should all have been better pleased if he had been accom- modating enough to fall in love with Peg- Rowley, and he knows that just as well as you do ; but the difference between us and men is that we can't choose and that they can. After all, he might have made a very much worse choice. He is going to marry money — which, I suppose, was pretty much what it was required of him to do, wasn't it?' ' Peggy has money enough for anything and anybody,' sighed Loo. ' I am not grumbling at him — of course there is no AN A CCOMPLISHED FA CT 1 59 excuse for grumbling, since this German woman is so rich — but I am disappointed. And the worst of it is, that I am afraid Peggy is disappointed too.' ' I shouldn't advise you to say that in her hearing,' remarked Phyllis. ; Perhaps you might as well refrain from saying or hinting at it in his hearing either, because he wouldn't like it, and it certainly wouldn't do any good. Is that the dog-cart ? Yes, there he is, sure enough! Now, Loo, let me implore you to behave like a reasonable being and look pleased, if you can't manage to look over- joyed. We don't want this marriage to bring about any coldness between us and Peg Rowley, remember.' A few seconds later the head of the family, who had just arrived from the South of France, was embracing his bisters. He wore a slightly sheepish expression of countenance — perhaps an elder brother who has engaged himself to be married must always and inevit- ably appear slightly sheepish on the occasion of his first encounter with his dispossessed relatives — but the letters which had reached him had been reassuring in tone, and he was sustained by a strong inward conviction that 160 THE COUNTESS RADNA his right to please himself in the matter of matrimony was beyond dispute. It was not disputed, even by implication. He under- stood exactly how the girls must feel about it, and did not expect them to be as enthu- siastic as they might have been had his choice fallen upon an English lady of good birth and ample means ; possibly he may have had some comprehension, also, of the meaning of Loo's watery smiles, and may not have altogether resented them. Loo was sentimental and imaginative ; Loo was pretty certain to end by falling at the feet of the Countess Radna and worshipping her ; but there might have been some trouble with Phyllis, who had decided notions of her own; so it was gratify- ing to find that Phyllis had nothing un- pleasant to say. He had brought a photograph of the Coun- tess with him, which he exhibited, listening complacently to the admiring criticisms which were its due ; then he mentioned that the wedding was to take place in Paris some time in November ; then he had a cup of tea, and then he went into the house to see his mother, who, as he was told, was in the morning-room writing letters. A N A CCOMPLISHED FA CT 1 6 1 Mrs. Colborne was almost always writing letters ; vet, under ordinary circumstances, she would have desisted from her occupation for a short time to welcome her son on his return, and he was so well aware of this that, after he had joined her and had been affection- ately kissed by her, he said : I You don't like it, do you. mother? You wrote as prettily as possible; but I could see that you didn't like it, though I am thankful to say that Helene was not sharp enough to detect that.'* I I am very glad that she wasn't ; I wouldn't for the world have conveyed to her the im- pression that I was dissatisfied in any way. Still, I won't tell a fib about it to you, my dear boy, and I must confess that there do seem to me to be drawbacks. That civil marriage, for instance. You will acknowledge that it is rather objectionable.' 1 Oh, that will be all right ; she is quite willing to be married in an English church if we wish it. Only, of course, it would have been absurd to conform to the rites of the Roman Church, to which neither she nor I belong. I suppose what you really dislike is that she is a foreigner, and that we shan't be vol. i. 11 162 THE COUNTESS RADNA able to help spending part of our lives abroad in future. I don't in the least wonder at your disliking that ; I dare say that, if I had a grown-up son, I shouldn't exactly covet such an alliance for him. Still, it is a magnificent alliance — if that is any consolation. More- over, it is one of those things which have to be accepted and made the best of, as being to all intents and purposes accomplished facts.' Mrs. Colborne glanced at her son's quiet, good-humoured, resolute face, and laughed. She resembled the Countess Radna, and, in- deed, the majority of her sex, in rather enjoy- ing the sensation of having a master. 1 A fact is accomplished when it is accom- plished, and not until then,' she returned. ' But the engagement won't be broken off by you, I see ; and if you are contented, so am 1. After all, what more can I wish for than that my children should be contented and — and prosperous ? It is rather sudden, though. I should have been glad if you had allowed yourself a little longer time for consideration, and possible repentance.' Young as Douglas Colborne was, he was old enough to know that nobody ever repents of an accomplished fact before it has been AN A CCOMPLISHED FA CT 163 accomplished. He did not, however, say this in reply ; nor did he see any necessity for telling his mother that the news of the pro- jected match had been received w 7 ith much less resignation in Austria than it had been in England. There had, in fact, been a good deal of trouble and a vast deal of correspond- ence ; for the Countess had relatives and friends who could not be prevented from say- ing what they thought, although she could not be prevented from doing what she j)leased. But these small and inevitable miseries were no more worth bothering about than the acrimonious remarks and warning prophecies of Dr. Schott. The Countess had certainly bothered herself a little ; still, opposition had not served to shake her purpose ; she had snubbed all her correspondents, she had quar- relled with a few of them, and she had pro- mised to pension off her unamiable medical attendant. She was now on her way to her native land, where her presence seemed to be absolutely requisite for a time, and in the month of November she and her jia?ic6 were to meet again in Paris, there to be joined together for better or for worse until death should part them. 1 64 THE COUNTESS RADNA Meanwhile, Douglas also had his arrange- ments to make, and very grateful he was to his mother and sisters for the readiness with which they acquiesced in the plans which he suggested for their future mode of life. He DO was, of course, going to be a very rich man — or at least to live like one — but it was just as much a matter of course that his wife's for- tune must remain her own and that he would, therefore, be able to do no more for his family than he could have done in the event of his being about to espouse a pauper. He had not been quite sure that Mrs. Colborne and the girls would recognise this, so that he was both thankful and relieved to find them per- fectly reasonable. South Kensington was their obvious destiny and destination ; they saw that quite as plainly as he did ; they betook themselves without complaint and without delay to that task of house-hunting which is one of the most disheartening of all earthly labours, and it was only Loo who presumed to express a hope that they might occasionally be permitted to run down to the old place for a week or two — ' when you and your Countess are away, you know, as I sup- pose you often will be.' AN ACCOMPLISHED FACT 165 ' You pay me and my Countess a poor compliment,' Douglas answered ; ' we should like you to come and stay here when we are at home, if you don't mind.' He spoke with complete sincerity, although he knew that there was little probability of his being taken at his word, and he resented neither Loo's half-smothered sigh nor her indiscreet rejoinder. ' Oh, I dare say we shall pay you short, formal visits every now and then,' she said ; ' but we couldn't think of proposiug ourselves, or of taking any other liberty with this grand lady whom we have never seen. If it had been somebody whom we already knew ; if it had been Peggy Rowley, for instance — but it isn't Peggy Rowley, worse luck !' To have had Peggy Rowley as her sister- in-law, instead of the Countess Radna, would, no doubt, have been better luck for Loo, and Douglas, being conscious of that, was patient. For the rest, his patience was not severely tried. In due course of time a house was discovered in Elvaston Place which was pro- nounced suitable by Mrs. Colborne, and after that she and her daughters were too busy collecting furniture and preparing for their 1 66 THE COUNTESS RADXA move to trouble the head of the family much. Thus the days and weeks passed swiftly away, and what with making the house ready to receive his bride, ingratiating himself with his future constituents, and snatching an occasional spare day for a game of cricket, Douglas had his hands tolerably full. The letters which readied him from abroad were upon the whole satisfactory ; his friends were hearty in their congratulations ; the only thins: he regretted was that one of his best friends, Miss Rowley, was absent from home all this time. He would have liked to see Peggy and bespeak her goodwill on behalf of the Countess Radna, for he suspected that there was nobody in the neighbourhood of Stoke Leigh ton, except Peggy, whom the Countess would be at all likely to find a congenial companion. It did not, however, seem over- presumptuous to count in advance upon the goodwill of one to whose kindly interest in himself and his prospects every voter in the vicinity was ready to testify. During this same period of time the Countess Radna had been engaged in a prolonged battle for independence from which A N A CCOMPLISHED FA CT 1 67 she had not emerged wholly un wounded. She had, of course, been technically victorious, because her legal independence was already established ; but the price of her victory had been a downright rupture with several of her highly-placed relatives, besides certain passages of arms in which she had been disagreeably aware of playing a more or less ridiculous part. She hated to be laughed at, and hated herself for caring whether people laughed at her or not ; so that when at length she started for Paris, shaking off the dust of her Fatherland from her feet, she was by no means as happy as she pretended to be. She loved Douglas Colborne, and was willing to sacrifice every- thing for his sake ; still, she could not but be conscious that she was sacrificing a great deal. Expatriation, which she had voluntarily incurred ever since she had been her own mistress as a thing desirable in itself, assumed quite another aspect from the moment that she realized how impossible it would be for her to reside even for a short time in Vienna after her marriage : her marriage also must needs deprive her of all the prestige which she had previously enjoyed, save that belonging to wealth. She had been a 1 68 THE COUNTESS RADNA prominent and interesting figure in Europe ; she was going to be nothing, except the very rich wife of an unknown English country gentleman. Europe would soon forget her, and the homage of London — if, indeed, she should obtain that — could hardly be accepted as a sufficient compensation. She regretted nothing, only she felt that sufficient compensation of some kind was her clue ; and she went near to saying as much when the month of November brought her and her lover together once more in the Avenue Friedland. But Douglas only laughed, as soon as he understood the drift of her remarks. i Do you remember warning me at Luchon that we should have some quarrels ?' he asked. ' Well, we shall have one now if you go on reminding me in this unhandsome way of all that I owe you. As if I didn't know that you deserve to have everything I can give you! And as if I didn't mean to give you everything that I have it in my power to give!' That was not quite the spirit in which she had expected to be met; and she was refreshed as well as amused by his sensible, practical AN A CCOMPLISHED FA CT 1 69 view of a somewhat complicated situation. ' You are altogether a man, and altogether an Englishman,' said she. ' You are, perhaps, right to be both, and to quarrel seriously when you do quarrel ; only you rather tempt me, who am a woman, and not in the least English, to show you how easily differences may be provoked and composed. Suppose, for example, I were to complain — as surely I have a right to do — that your family are hardly treating me with common civility by declining to be present at our wedding ?' ' Oh, but my mother is coming, after all,' answered Douglas. ' I told you in my letter, you know, that they had a lot of work to do with furnishing ; besides which, there was the expense of a journey to Paris and back to be considered, and you said you wished the ceremony to be as quiet as possible. How- ever, rny mother has decided to run over for a couple of nights. As for the girls, I suppose you don't particularly care about their putting in an appearance ?' 1 Since you put it in that way,' returned the Countess, smiling. ' I suppose I don't. I could even, at a pinch, have brought myself to dispense with Mrs. Colborne's maternal i 7 o THE COUNTESS RADNA benediction. Nevertheless, it is a strange experience to me to encounter such absence of ceremony. I have hitherto been accustomed to a great deal of ceremony, you see.' ' But I thought that was just what you were so tired of.' ' I am utterly tired of it, and I adore strange experiences. I am utterly tired of my old life, and I hope it will be a long time before I become tired of the new one. It ought to be, because I feel sure that you are capable of diversifying it with many little surprises.' ' So long as you don't grow tired of me ' Douglas began. 1 Or you of me — which is, of course, more likely, seeing that you are a man and that I am a woman. Either way, we must take our chance, you and I ; for we don't really know one another yet. The piquant part of it is your refusal to let me have the benefit of my accidental advantages. Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have allowed me to settle a small portion of my superfluous wealth upon them ; but you are determined that nothing shall interfere with your privilege of absolute authority. There, again, you are probably right, though you are certainly odd. Perhaps AN A CCOMPLISHED FA CT 171 I should not be as fond of you as T am if you were not at the same time so odd and so con- ventional.' Douglas could see nothing" odd in his COn- duct with regard to settlements, nor could he perceive the point of those criticisms upon his personal character in which the Countess delighted ; but he liked to hear her say that she was fond of him, and as she repeated this statement many times and in terms warmer than those recorded above before their wedding- day dawned, he looked forward to the future without fear. Every marriage must be more or less of a leap in the dark ; but, in spite of her assertion, he flattered himself that he knew her pretty well, while as for her pretending that she did not know him, that was absurd ; because there really was nothing to know in his case, beyond what all the world might discover in the course of half an hour or so. Sir Edmund and Lady Royston were good enough to hasten their return from England to Paris by a few days in order to lend their countenance to the nuptials ; Mr. Lindsay consented to act as Douglas's best man ; Mrs. Colborne, who had previously been presented 172 THE COUNTESS RADNA to her future daughter-in-law, and had declared her perfectly charming, laid aside her mourn- ing for the occasion, and the civil and religious ceremonies passed off without a hitch, if with- out the eclat which might have been con- sidered seemly by the relations of one of the high contracting parties. But as those rela- tions were sulking in the remote distance, their sense of propriety sustained no additional shock. The Baroness von Bickenbach was present, and wept copiously ; Dr. Schott, secure of his pension, yet not half pleased with his dismissal, was likewise a grim spectator of the scene. A certain great statesman of our own day is reported to have muttered significantly after his downfall from power: ' Le vol me rererra /' Somewhat analogous were the farewell words of Dr. Schott to his departing mistress and patient. ' The future is not always what we imagine that it is gointr to be,' he observed, ' and one of these days you may again find that you have occasion for my poor services. I can only assure you, madame, that while I live these will be at your disposal, and that, should the climate of England prove unsuitable to AN A CCOMPLISHED FACT 173 your health, I shall be ready to accompany you elsewhere.' The Countess interpreted this saying for her husband's benefit as they drove to the railway-station. ' He means,' she explained, ' that he quite hopes our marriage will turn out a failure, and that before very long I shall be reorganizing my household on the old lines.' * Then I am very much afraid,' returned Douglas, laughing, ' that a disappointment is in store for your physician. He is a sour- tempered old brute, and I never liked him. Now, the Baroness is really a worthy creature.' ' Yes ; but Bickenbach is useless, because she agrees with every word that I say ; whereas the doctor, who understands me better, bullies me. If ever I am driven to leave you, Douglas, I shall infallibly send for Dr. Schott, much as he irritates my nerves. I shouldn't think of sending for Bickenbach, who would only cry.' ' Under those circumstances,' rejoined the bridegroom, ' I dare say I may venture to assume that you won't leave me without good cause.' That she would never have good cause for repenting of her bargain he felt very conn- 174 THE COUNTESS RADNA dent, and the experiences of his first month of married life were of a nature to justify that confidence in every respect. The newly- married pair wandered through Italy without ostentation, and with a modest retinue of only two servants. They penetrated as far south as Sorrento ; after which they retraced their steps and loitered along the Riviera, meeting nobody whom they knew (for none of the people whom they knew were at all likely to be in those parts before the month of January), and enjoying to the full their freedom from all social trammels. For the Countess Radna so quiet a mode of life had the charm of complete novelty ; perhaps also her husband possessed something of the same attraction in her eyes. Be that as it may, she was perfectly happy and contented during her honeymoon, and did not fail to apprise him of a state of things which was without precedent in her recollection. ' What a good thing it is that we can't spend the whole winter dawdling about sunny places!' she exclaimed one morning. ' If we could, we might end by having enough of laziness — which would be a thousand pities.' Whether that result would or would not A.\ ACCOMPLISHED FACT 175 have followed, it was, at all events, certain that the experiment could not be made. Calls of various kinds rendered Douglas Colborne's return to Stoke Leighton before Christmas imperative, and in the second week of Decem- ber his tenantry had the privilege of meeting him with a congratulatory address, as well as that of gazing upon the beautiful and richly- attired lady w T ho (having espoused an untitled gentleman) was still known as the Countess Eadna. They admired her, it is to be feared, rather more than she admired them. She had been accustomed to a somewhat greater degree of subserviency on the part of her inferiors than is usuail} 7 manifested in the county of Bucks, and she was a little taken aback when her husband intimated to her that she would be expected to place her delicately-gloved hand within the huge sunburnt palms of various stalwart sons of the soil. She was, however, delighted with the aspect of her future home, which, although by no means a magnificent place, presented that trim and w^ell-kept appearance common to all English country homes. ' This is perfect !' she exclaimed, after a cursory survey of the reception - rooms 176 THE COUNTESS RADNA ' Nothing is wanting, except a certain number of guests, and — an occupation of some sort.'' w We'll ask some people down to stay as soon as 3 t ou like/ answered Douglas. ' As for occupation — well, there will be shooting for the next two months and hunting until spring.' ' Only, for my misfortune, I don't either shoot or hunt.' ' Very few ladies shoot, even in England,' Douglas observed ; ' but lots of them hunt, and there's no difficulty about it, so long as you are well mounted and have the average amount of pluck. It won't take me many weeks to initiate you into the mysteries of fox-hunting.' ' Oh, you mean me to hunt with you, then? All this is very new and very diverting ; it looks quite like the commencement of a fresh existence. I must warn you, though, that I have already tried many fresh departures, and have always found that plus ca change plus c est la meme chose, 1 CHAPTER XL FAILURES AND SUCCESSES. Anybody who has ever tried to teach his fellow-creatures anything must have dis- covered that it is not the stupid ones who give the most trouble. With patience and perseverance on the part of teacher and learner, mere stupidity, against which a great poet has told us that the gods themselves fight in vain, will seldom be found a barrier to moderate proficiency ; but of the people who know a little and think they know a good deal nothing satisfactory can be made, and that, in all probability, was why Douglas Colborne failed to imbue his wife with either taste or capacity for following the hounds. She was a very fair horsewoman, but she rode without judgment and was apt to turn restive under instruction. Hence she not only gave VOL. I. 12 i 7 8 THE COUNTESS RADNA herself several falls which were absolutely uncalled for, and might have had serious results, but speedily acquired a reputation in the hunting- held which was not of a nature to render her popular amongst her neighbours. Moreover, she did not take to those hunting neighbours of hers, whose manners appeared to her to be stiff and chilling at some moments and far too familiar at others, so that she ended by announcing abruptly that the pursuit of the fox did not amuse her, and that she had had enough of it. This seemed a pity, and Douglas was very sorry that she should be so soon discouraged and disgusted ; still, her renunciation of a sport which he himself loved was not wholly devoid of compensating circumstances, and he had the comfort of knowing that the Countess's social success, when she was not in the saddle, was beyond all dispute. The county willingly did homage to her beauty, to her admirable taste in the matter of costume, and to her brilliant conversational powers. As a hostess she was perfect, insomuch that the friends of both sexes whom he had invited to stay at Stoke Leighton (rather with a view to her amusement than his own) fell down before FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 179 her and worshipped her with one consent ; best of all, she quickly won the hearts of his mother and his sisters, who, as a matter of course, came down from London to spend Christmas in their old home. ' Helene is charming — quite charming !' Mrs. Colborne declared emphatically to her son before she had been two days in the house ; shortly after which Phyllis told him precisely the same thing, and then Loo followed suit. The terms in which these several verdicts were pronounced lacked variety, no doubt, but that was just what rendered the tribute conveyed by them such a striking one ; and Douglas, who reported the good opinion of his family to his wife with pride and satisfaction, did not fail to impress as much upon her. ' My mother and the girls have always got on pretty well together,' he explained ; ' but they have never had the same tastes or liked the same people. That all three of them should call you charming shows what an extraordinary charm you must have.' ' Oh no, it doesn't/ returned the Countess, laughing ; ' it only shows how very easily anybody can be charming who chooses to take 180 THE COUNTESS RADNA the trouble. Do you know bow to be charm- ing — you, who know so many things ? All you have to do is to ask the person whom you want to charm a few questions about himself or herself, and to affect a profound interest in the answers that you receive.' 1 But you are a little bit interested in my people, aren't you ?' pleaded Douglas. ' Certainly I am, because they are your people. Isn't that a good enough reason ? If it isn't, I am afraid I can't honestly offer you a better one.' If this was not too complimentary to the ladies of the Colborne family, it was suffi- ciently so to their male representative, who naturally did not suspect his wife of exem- plifying her theory in his own case, and who was rejoiced to think that all risk of coldness or misunderstanding between those upon whom his affections were centred might now be regarded as outside the bounds of proba- bility. The Countess, however, could not reason- ably be expected to take the trouble of making herself charming to his friends as well as to his relations, and for some reason or other she did not see fit to expend any pains upon FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 181 fascinating Miss Rowley, who, like the rest of the world, was at home for Christmas, and who called upon the new mistress of Stoke Leighton one afternoon. It is notorious that when a man marries he usually finds himself compelled to drop the feminine intimacies which have brightened his bachelor years, and it is likewise proverbial that two of a trade never agree. Perhaps the good-humoured Peggy made herself a trifle too much at home; perhaps long enjoyment of wealth and inde- pendence had brought about a certain simi- larity in the respective mental attitudes of these two ladies towards their fellow -mortals which was not conducive to mutual toleration. In any case, they evidently did not hit it off together, and Douglas, as an impartial man, could not but admit that the fault lay rather with his wife than with her visitor. The Countess, who could be English, French, or German at will, chose on this occasion to be altogether Teutonic. She was painfully polite and crushingly ceremonious ; she neither made advances nor responded to them ; and if Peggy Rowley had been an easily snubbed person, snubbed she must unquestionably have felt. 1 82 THE COUNTESS RADNA But Peggy, having the great advantage of not caring a straw whether the Countess Radna liked her or not, accepted the rebuff inflicted upon her with undiminished cheer- fulness. She acquitted herself conscientiously of her part ; she said and did all that neigh- bourly civility seemed to demand, and during the latter portion of her visit she addressed her remarks chiefly to the two girls, both of whom had given her a very warm welcome. ' I shall be starting off in a few days to stay with half a dozen different people,' she said, as she rose to take her leave ; ' but, of course, if anything should happen to poor old Majendie, who is very bad, I hear, I shall come home at once and set to work canvass- ing. You know,' she added explanatorily to the Countess, ' we mean your husband to be our future member. We are going to get him in ; but, in order to do it, we must all be upon the spot at the right time.' ' Indeed ?' answered the Countess, with slightly raised eyebrows. ' I did not know that women were allowed to vote for members of your Parliament.' ' We don't vote ourselves, but we tell the electors how they are to vote, and quite a FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 183 large number of them obey us. Your help, I can assure you. will be most valuable, and I shall certainly claim it when the moment for action arrives.' This open taking of the candidate under her wing was, perhaps, somewhat injudicious, but Peffffy was too magnanimous to be actuated by any small sentiment of spite or any desire to provoke jealousy. She often blundered in the way that men blunder, but from the failings characteristic of her sex she was singularly exempt. As soon as Miss Rowley had departed the Countess retired into her boudoir, taking with her her younger sister-in-law, through whose arm she affectionately passed her own. ' Tell me about this delightful friend of yours,' she began, as she sank into one of the luxurious armchairs with which the room was a little overcrowded. ' How does she manage to win elections ? and why is she so kind as to exert herself in this way for Douglas ? She must have great talent or great influence or great benevolence. All three, perhaps ?' 1 Oh, I am so glad you like her !' cried the unsuspecting Loo. ' Yes ; I really think she 1 84 THE COUNTESS RADNA has all three, and naturally she is anxious to do anything that she can for Douglas, because they have been intimate from their childhood. She has been kindness itself to us, though ' ' Yes ?' said the Countess interrogatively. ' I was only going to say that I don't sup- pose she can care quite as much for us as she does for him ; but perhaps that would be rather an ungrateful speech to make. Any- how, it would be difficult for her to be as fond of me as I am of her. To tell you the truth, I always used to hope that Douglas would marry her,' the girl concluded, with a laugh. The lady whom Douglas had preferred to marry received this confidence without appa- rent perturbation, but pardonable curiosity prompted her to put a good many more questions, to which full replies were forth- coming. Loo Colborne was by far the most communicative member of the family, and it was doubtless by reason of that patent fact that she was then sitting in her sister-in- law's boudoir. In a very brief space of time she had related all that the most inquisitive person could have desired to hear. ' However,' she thought it only fair to end FAILURES AXD SUCCESSES 185 by acknowledging, ' I dare say things are really better as they are ; for we have gained you, Helene dear, and we haven't lost Peggy, as I was half afraid we should at first.' Late that evening the Countess said abruptly to her husband : ' Why didn't you marry the woman who was obviously sent into the world for the express purpose of becoming your wife ? She is not precisely a beauty. I admit ; but she is not so bad looking, and in all other respects she would have suited you admir- ably.' 1 My dear Helene. you ought to know, if anybody ought, that I have married the only woman whom it could ever have been possible for me to marry. You surely don't mean that you are ' ' Jealous of Miss Rowley ?' interrupted the Countess. ' Oh dear no ! [am aware that you fell in love with me, and I presume that when you did so your heart was your own. What astonishes me, taking all things into consideration, is that you should have escaped losing it to her.' 1 Upon my honour, I did escape.' ' Ah ! then vou are more fortunate than 1 86 THE COUNTESS RADNA she has been. Oh, I hear your modest dis- claimers already ; you needn't trouble to shower them upon me. They do you honour; but, unfortunately, they can't prevent Miss Rowley from driving vou into Parliament because she is in love with you, or your relations from lamenting that you have been too perverse to reward her according to her deserts.' 1 You have taken up an altogether wrong idea,' returned Douglas, looking annoyed, ' and I am very sorry for it, because I hoped that you would make friends with Peg Rowley, who is no more in love with me than I am with her,' ' That is understood, of course, and she shall not be accused of anything so improper again. But I'm afraid T can't exactly make friends with her, even to please you — she is probably too English for me. Political life is very well ; amusement and excitement are to be got out of it occasionally, and I should like, just as much as Miss Rowley would like, to see you in the House of Commons. But all this struggling for votes, this flattering and cajoling of bourgeois electors — is it not a little beneath people of our station ?' FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 187 Douglas made a deprecatory gesture. ' It may be,' he replied ; ' but it is the necessary consequence of a democratic form of government, and I think I have heard you talk as if you didn't much admire or believe in class privileges.' 1 1 don't believe in any sort of Divine right, and if I were a bourgeois or a mechanic I should wish to make short work of the upper classes most likely ; only as I happen to belong by birth to the upper class, I would rather be made short work of by these people than stoop down to black their boots. In a word, I am half Hungarian, half French, whereas your Miss Rowley is, as I say, entirely Eng- lish ; that is one reason why I can't oblige you by becoming her bosom friend.' There was doubtless another reason, and a less far - fetched one ; but he was sensible enough to abstain from any further allusion to that, and to resign himself, with a sigh, to an estrangement which he perceived to be in- evitable. All the same, he resolved that he would not throw over an old friend because his wife, like many of the best of women, was subject to fits of unreasoning jealousy. Jealousy is a venial offence, but cowardice 1 88 THE COUNTESS RADXA and infidelity cannot be excused upon any plea whatsoever. Now, the Countess had averred that she was not jealous of Miss Rowley, and perhaps she was not so in the ordinary acceptation of the term ; she was aware that her husband loved her and that he did not love one who might have been her rival. But what had caused her to declaim against British elec- tioneering tactics was partly her instinctive knowledge that Peggy would beat her easily in that field of activity, and partly her con- scious inability to interest herself in the duties and relaxations which were common to Douglas and to the heiress whom Xature seemed to have marked out as his mate. Besides, Miss Rowley was not the sort of woman with whom she would have cared, under any cir- cumstances, to become intimate. That being so, it was almost a pity that old Mr. Majendie's demise should have taken place with unexpected suddenness that very same night. Upon the receipt of the news, Miss Rowley at once abandoned her projected visits ; a stream of letters and telegrams began to pour in at Stoke Leighton, and although the newspapers announced that no steps would FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 189 be taken by either party until after the funeral of the late member, unofficial preparations were initiated without delay. The next few weeks were very busy ones both for Douglas and his wife: to the former they brought a good deal of fatigue, not unmixed with pleasurable excitement, but to the latter they brought fatigue pure and simple. She did all that she was asked or expected to do ; she smiled as prettily as possible upon recalcitrant voters and their families ; she took her place day after day and night after night upon crowded platforms, heroically swallowing her yawns while she listened to the eloquence of the Tory candidate and the replies that he made to searching questions ; but she could not make out, nor had she any great wish to make out, what it was all about. Those queries and answers, which occasioned the keenest emotion to Peggy Rowley (for Douglas, as has already been hinted, was not the soundest of Conservatives), meant nothing at all to her ; as far as she was able to under- stand their drift, they did not strike her as meaning anything of supreme importance to anybody ; the two things which gradually became clear to her through all this clamour 190 THE COUNTESS RADNA of tongues were, first, that her husband was going to be elected ; and, secondly, that his election would, in the opinion of all com- petent judges, be chiefly if not entirely due to the unwearied exertions of the lady of Swin- ford Manor. Yet, as the lady of Swinford Manor could have informed her, Mr. Colborne's election was by no means a foregone conclusion ; for his opponent was a strong man with a strong following, while he himself was considered a trifle crotchety by not a few of those who had supported Mr. Majendie. They did not want — who does ? — to be represented by that un- satisfactory being, an independent member ; and upon more points than one he refused absolutely to bind himself by any definite promise. He would in all probability have been punished for his fads and his scruples by exclusion from public life but for certain con- siderations which ouo^ht never to wei«;h with the constituencies for a moment, and which always do weigh with them. The Radical newspapers, when ultimately called upon to record the defeat of their candidate, pointed with pride and hope to a diminished majority, and spoke, justifiably enough, of ' local causes ' FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 191 as being responsible for their present discom- fiture; but Peggy Rowley declared jubilantly that if the electors would return so unmanage- able a supporter of the Government as Douglas had shown himself to be. they would never dream of returning any politician who belonged to the opposite camp. ' He is quite right to have opinions of his own, you know,' she told the Countess ; ' only it is a horribly dangerous thing to parade opinions of one's own before securing one's seat. However, all's well that ends well, and since this business has ended well, I'm not sorry that he has made himself free to play any game he likes in the House.' v I, at all events, am not sorry that he has been elected,' observed the Countess, ' for I really do not think that I could have endured many more political meetings. As for the game which he may have had it in his mind to play, I suppose you know more about that than 1 do : honestly speaking, the game upon which we have been engaged of late appears to me to be one of the most tedious and troublesome that I have ever seen or heard of.' It may be that she would have found the ig2 THE COUNTESS RADXA game less tedious if the share assigned to her in the playing of it had been a less subordinate one; still, it was quite true that the methods by which Parliamentary honours are obtained in England were not such as to commend themselves to her fastidious taste. { Since you desired to be made a legislator, I am glad you have got what you want,' she said to her husband ; ' but I trust that it will be a very long time before the next election comes. One needs to recover one's breath after this, and — and to wash one's hands.' ' I am afraid you have passed through some most unpleasant experiences/ said Douglas, with a twinge of compunction ; ' but I hope, as you say, that it will be a long time before you have to face the ordeal again ; and I think, you know, that my being in Parliament will be an advantage to you in some ways, as well as to me. For one thing, we shall have to take a house in London, which will make a change for vou.' The Countess brightened a little at this prospect, for she was in truth heartily sick already of her husband's country residence. Stoke Leighton was less magnificent and less dreary in outward appearance than her own FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 193 Hungarian castle, but as a winter dwelling- place she was beginning to find it very nearly as dull. It might be more tolerable during the summer months, she thought. Mean- while, she insisted that the cost of the London house should be her affair, and he could not very well gainsay her upon that point, although he would have preferred to do so, if he could have seen his way to it. He felt, however, that she had a right to live in a larger house than he could afford to rent or purchase, and to entertain upon a larger scale than his means would admit of; so he yielded to her representations and, as a natural consequence, accompanied her shortly after- wards to a London hotel, in order that she might be able to survey such suitable abodes as were then in the market Thus it came to pass that, before long, he found himself master by courtesy of a very fine mansion in Carlton House Terrace, the furnishing and decorating of which detained him in town until Parliament met and put an end to his hunting for that season. The sacrifice of a week or two of hunting was a greater sacrifice to him than his wife could realize, but he submitted to it manfully, and vol. 1. 13 i 9 4 THE COUNTESS RADNA he had his reward in the spectacle of her vastly improved spirits. 1 London is not precisely Paris,' she re- marked, after their installation was completed and a heavy bombardment of visitors and visiting cards had set in, ' but it is at least not the country, Heaven be praised ! Civilized humanity was never meant to live anywhere except in cities or southern watering-places during the cold months.' ' We English don't think so,' observed Douglas, laughing ; ' but then, of course, we are barbarians.' ' Well, you are a little barbarous, it must be confessed ; still, you are not bad sort of people, some of you ; that is to say, that one of you isn't a bad sort of person.' Such a declaration made ample amends for loss of sport and for the slightly uncom- fortable sensation of ruling over a household without paying the cost of its maintenance. CHAPTER XII. THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE. It is said by those who are familiar with the House of Commons and its ways that no newly-fledged legislator will, if he is well advised, be in a hurry to address that some- what peculiar assemblage. His proper course, it would appear, is to keep his eyes and ears open and his mouth shut, so that when at length he does venture to speak he may do so in such a manner as to secure something rather more encouraging than the slightly contemp- tuous leniency which it is customary to extend to the in experienced. Acting upon these doubtless sound principles, Douglas Colborne resolutely kept his peace during the early part of the ensuing session, despite the reproaches of his wife, who said she could not understand the pleasure of belonging to a mere debating 196 THE COUNTESS RADNA society, which met at very inconvenient hours. To be a Cabinet Minister might be, and pro- bably was, worth while ; but to accept the position of a voting machine was to sink below the level even of an English country gentle- man. 1 Cest tout dire f she added with a shrug of her shoulders. Douglas observed that Cabinet Ministers, like other experts, had to serve a period of apprenticeship ; but she refused to listen to so pusillanimous a doctrine. ' I have known too many Ministers to believe that they learn their duties before they have assumed them,' she declared. ' All they have to do is to make themselves necessary ; and no man is really necessary until his friends are afraid of offend- ing him. You will find yourself obliged to start from that point, whether you start now or next year or the year after.' As Douglas only laughed at this concise definition of the highroad to political renown, she dropped the subject, and ceased to take any interest in public life so far as he was con- cerned. On the other hand, social life inte- rested her far more in London than it had done in the provinces. Of course her rank, THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE 197 her riches and her somewhat romantic record sufficed at once to admit her into circles which are no longer as exclusive as they were once upon a time, and which, probably, would not at any time have excluded the bearer of so ancient a title as hers : that was no more than she had anticipated and had been accustomed to all her life. But she soon discovered that the British aristocracy, unlike the Continental aristocracies, which differ from one another only in minor details, has a certain distinct cachet of its own ; and this, being more or less of a novelty to her, appealed to that craving for novelty which was, in truth, her ruling passion. She went out a great deal, she enter- tained a great deal, and she enjoyed herself. Hence it followed that she was almost always in good spirits, and that her husband, whose duties did not allow of his accompanying her to a quarter of the dinners, balls and recep- tions which she honoured with her presence, but who asked for nothing better than that she should enjoy herself, was generally in good spirits also ; whence again it followed that he and she drifted by sure, though scarcely perceptible, stages apart. It is not very easy to depict the Countess 198 THE COUNTESS RADNA Radna's condition of mind at this period of her life without doing her an injustice. Tired though she had been of Stoke Leighton, and dissatisfied though she had been with the part of second fiddle which she had been conscious of playing during the election time, she was not tired of Douglas, nor had she ceased to love him. Only she had not learnt to revere him, and she had got rid of the impression that he was one of those strong men whose wives must need obey them, willingly or unwillingly. The course of events had made her once more her own mistress ; and in this the course of events was not lucky, for it was really essential both to her husband's happi- ness and her own that she should be kept in a state of subjection. Of this necessity she her- self had, however, but a dim perception, while Douglas, who had the true Briton's abhor- rence of psychological subtleties, would have scorned to deal otherwise than straightfor- wardly with one whom he loved. Moreover, he was rather stronger than he appeared to be, and, entertaining no misoivino-s as to his ultimate authority, did not care to assert it without cause. He was not less rejoiced at Helene's unquestionable social success than he THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE 199 was gratified by the amiability which she con- tinued to display towards his sisters and the pains which she took to procure invitations for them which they might have sighed for in vain without her good offices. ' She is a sort of fairy godmother !' Mrs. Colborne exclaimed enthusiastically one day. 1 Xaturally, she can't do much for poor dear Loo — nobody could ; but she is helping Phyllis on immensely, and I feel that I can't tbank her enough for all her kindness. It isn't every young married woman who chooses to be bothered with girls, and, situated as I am, it is almost a necessity for me to appeal to somebody else to befriend my daughters.' 1 1 am sure Helene is only too glad to re- lieve you of a little chaperon duty,' answered Douglas ; ' but I don't quite understand what you mean by helping Phyllis on. To what particular good thing is Phyllis being helped ?' ' Oh, my dear boy, you understand as well as I do that there is only one thing to which girls require a helping hand. I won't be such a hypocrite as to pretend that I don't care whether Phyllis marries happily or not, though I suppose you, like all men, are averse to admitting that a perfectly genuine love- 20 o THE COUNTESS RADNA match may be brought about by a little judicious management.' ' Oh, that's it, is it ?' ' Good gracious me ! what did you imagine that it was ? Don't let the thought of it disturb you in your study of blue-books, though ; these are women's affairs, not men's. All I meant to say was that Helene is lending us her aid out of sheer good-nature and kind- ness of heart. It is very good of her to have taken up Frank Innes, too, as she has done.' ' Yes ; I am glad that she has taken a fancy to Frank Innes,' said Douglas. ' All the same, I trust she won't think it good or kind to stir up a genuine love-match in his case.' ' As if she would be so foolish ! Unless, of course, she could get him to fall in love with an heiress. People do sometimes fall in love with heiresses, as you know, and in a few rare instances the heiress is good enough to befriend her husband's relations simply because they are his relations. I know Helene wishes to befriend Frank ; and as he isn't a girl, there are more ways than one in which he may easily be befriended.' This young Innes was the son of Mrs. THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE 201 Colborne's sister, who had espoused a not very wealthy and by no means open-handed Scotch laird. Frank, the eldest member of a large family, had received a rather more expensive education than mio-ht have been vouchsafed to him had it seemed probable, when he was sent to Eton, that he would have such an alarming number of younger brothers and sisters. The cost of his education was a point upon which his father was wont to dwell in explaining the utter impossibility of increas- ing his modest allowance ; and as the salary attached to a clerkship in a Government office which he held did not much more than suffice to pay for his clothes, he could hardly have managed to exist at all unless the liberality of his father had been supplemented by that of his mother's relations. The late Mr. Col- borne, who had been fond of the lad. had been in the habit of helping him out with the annual donation of a couple of hundred pounds, which payment had, as a matter of course, been continued by Mr. Colborne's son and heir. Douglas also was much attached to his cousin ; for Frank Innes was not only a handsome, curly-headed, blue-eyed young fellow of that type which naturally and 202 THE COUNTESS RADNA inevitably secures friends for those who belong to it, but was a fearless rider, a fair shot, and a really excellent cricketer into the bargain. He had other valuable and attrac- tive qualities in addition to these, so that, in spite of his poverty, he was not so very much to be pitied after all. The Countess had taken him under her especial protection, her favourable notice having, no doubt, been secured in the first instance by his good looks (for it is useless to pretend that beauty is not an advantage to men as well as to women), but also because she had been well pleased and rather amused to discover that he had made her husband the subject of a juvenile and enthusiastic hero- worship. Perhaps she herself was not able to regard Douglas as precisely a hero, and per- haps she was not sorry to find that he could present himself in that light to others. It became a favourite diversion of hers to speak disparagingly of him, for the sake of seeing the young man's colour rise and his blue eyes kindle. ' Oh,' she would say, ' I know quite well what it is that you Englishmen admire : the man who can jump higher or run faster or THE CO UNTESS ' 5 BENE VOL ENCE 203 kill more birds than you can stands upon a much more lofty pinnacle in your esteem than the greatest statesman or philosopher or poet of the age. I don't think it is true that you take your pleasures sadly ; but you take them very seriously — far more seriously than your duties. One of the funniest things in this funny country is the contrast between the perfection with which all your amusements are organized and the slipshod fashion in which you manage your army, your navy, the conduct of your public business, and other matters of secondary importance. What astonishes me is that my husband should have deliberately chosen to busy himself with such trifles. It would have been so much better to devote his whole attention to hunting and shooting- and cricket, wouldn't it ?' To remarks of this ironical description Frank limes would reply that there were some fellows who could do anything and everything that they chose to give their minds to, and that his cousin was one of them. He was wont to add, by way of closing the discussion, that she might say what she liked, but that when she met with a better all-round man than Douglas he would take it 204 THE COUNTESS RADNA as a favour if she would let him know of it, that was all. She did not oblige him in that way, but she liked him well enough to oblige him in other ways ; and it is to be hoped that a really well- meaning and well-conducted youth will not be hopelessly damaged in the reader's estima- tion by the avowal which has to be made, that she paid a few outstanding bills for him. He ought not, perhaps, to have taken money from her ; but then, as she pointed out to him, she had such a lot of money ! Besides, although she was in reality only his cousin by marriage, her virtual position was much more like that of an aunt. ' And nobody,' she said, ' has ever thought of disputing an aunt's privilege to make occasional little presents to her nephews.' Whatever this reasoning may have been worth, it sufficed to overcome the scruples of Frank Innes, who lived habitually among rich people, who had much ado to reconcile economy with that mode of life, and whose affection for the Countess Radna was not unnaturally augmented by her generosity. It was she who, during the Easter recess, insisted upon his accompanying her and her husband to Paris, where the house in the THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE 205 Avenue Friedland stood ready for their re- ception ; and he was not a little impressed by the magnificence of her travelling arrange- ments, the splendour of an abode which she so seldom occupied, and the high considera- tion which she evidently enjoyed in the French capital. ' Why, your wife is a sort of princess !' he exclaimed woncleringly to his cousin. ' In fact, I shouldn't think there were many prin- cesses, or queens either, who could do things in her style.' ' Oh, she is very rich,' answered Douglas. ' And she makes a good use of her money, too.' 1 Well, yes ; I think she does. But, be- tween you and me, Frank, there are moments when I almost wish that she had no more than a trifle of five thousand a year, or there- abouts.' Douglas did not explain himself further, nor did the younger man inquire what he meant by a wish which sounded a shade ungracious ; but the discerning reader will probably have no difficulty in understanding that the position of a prince-consort is not wholly free from drawbacks. 206 THE COUNTESS RADNA For the rest, the Countess Radna knew that as well as anybody, and was very careful to refrain from hurting her husband's suscepti- bilities more than was inevitable. It was scarcely her fault that she could not help doing so every now and then. After they had returned to London, for instance, and were in the full swing of the season, she annoyed him quite unintentionally, and in a manner which rather surprised her, by ex- pressing her intention of charging herself with the providing of Phyllis's dot. ' Why in the world shouldn't I ?' she asked, in reply to his somewhat curt intimation that such an arrangement was not to be thought of. ' That kind of thing is done every day in other countries, and I don't think it can be considered so utterly inadmissible here, for your mother gave her consent at once. You pay me a poor compliment by being so proud, and you are not very kind to your sister, either. I presume you have noticed that Colonel Percy is paying her a good deal of attention, and I presume you must be aware that it is just that question of the dot which prevents him from speaking out. He isn't a rich man, you see, and probably he thinks THE COUNTESS- ! S BENEVOLENCE 207 that it would be hardly fair to offer himself to a girl who might have to submit to privations as his wife.' 1 That is only a pretty way of saying that Percy doesn't care enough about her to marry her unless it is made worth his while,' answered Douglas in a vexed tone. ' I can't say that I have noticed his attentions ; I haven't much time for noticing these things ; but I believe he has at least a thousand a year of his own, and he will be well enough off some day. What you say would make me hesitate to promise a very large provision for Phyllis, even if I were as well able to do so as you are. However, I'll speak to my mother about it.' He made a point of speaking rather per- emptorily to his mother about it ; and the result of his doing so was not the least what he had expected it to be. Colonel Percy, who, before Douglas had resigned his commission in the Guards, had been a brother-officer of the latter, was a man well known in smart circles. There was very little to be said against him, except that he was at least fifteen years older than Phyllis, and that his tastes and experiences had been 2 o8 THE COUNTESS RADNA such as to render him her senior by any number of years ; nor could much be urged in his favour, except that he was heir to a baronetcy and to a moderate estate. ' It really doesn't seem to me,' said Douglas, ' that Percy is quite so great a catch that we need feel tempted to bribe him into an alliance with us — at somebody else's expense.' Mrs. Colborne was seldom angry, and, as a rule, either was or pretended to be frightened when her son spoke angrily to her ; but upon this occasion she deemed it her duty to rebuke him roundly and soundly. The assumption that any attempt to ' bribe ' Colonel Percy had been made or contemplated Avas, she said, hardly worth refuting, though she was ex- tremely sorry that such a suspicion should have been entertained. It was true that he was not what worldly people would call a great catch ; but surely it was more im- portant that Phyllis should care for him (if, indeed, she did so, which was by no means proved as yet) than that he should be a millionaire. Finally, Douglas might remem- ber that, although he was the head of the family, he was not entitled to dictate either to his sister or his wife as though he were THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE 209 a despot and they his slaves. The one might marry without his consent, and the other, Mrs. Colborne presumed, might spend her own money as seemed best to her without his consent. ' [ am not objecting to Phvllis's marrying Percy,' Douglas declared. ' although he isn't exactly the husband whom I should have chosen for her. As for my wife, of course she is free to spend her money in providing the marriage portion — if you don't mind taking such a gift from such a quarter. But I hope at least that you won't let Percy know of your intention and hers.' Mrs. Colborne repelled this unworthy in- sinuation with all the scorn that it merited. 'Do you actually believe,' she asked, 'that I am capable of going to Colonel Percy and telling him that, if he will be good enough to marry my daughter, he shall receive a hand- so aie dowrv with her from my daughter-in- law?' Probably she was not capable of behaving with that extreme degree of candour ; but she was, Douglas feared, capable of conveying hints which were likely to be transmitted to the desired destination, and she did not vol. 1. 14 210 THE COUNTESS RADNA hesitate to avow herself capable of profiting by ' dear Helene's kindness and liberality.' She said that, in the event of her doing this, she would certainly make no secret of the matter, nor would any right-minded person think of censuring her ; and she almost made her son laugh when she wound up by remark- ing that men of Colonel Percy's expectations and social importance are not to be met with every day, even though they may not be ' great catches.' The upshot of it was that Douglas had to withdraw his opposition with more or less of a good grace, and that before the end of the season Colonel Percy proposed and was ac- cepted. The engagement was cordially ap- proved of by everybody, except the brother of the bride-elect, and even he could not openly disapprove of it, though the manner in which it had been arranged was not to his liking. ' Oh, it's all right,' said he to Frank Innes, who met him with congratulations in the Palace Yard as he was leaving the House of Commons one evening. ' Percy isn't a bad sort of fellow, and if Phyllis is fond of him, as she says she is, they ought to be happy THE COUNTESS'S BENEVOLENCE 211 together. All the same, I wish my wife would be contented to save them a wedding- present of a grand piano, or a brougham, or something of that sort. I may be altogether wrong in my ideas, but it seems to me that no gentleman or gentlewoman ought to accept a gift of a large sum of money from one who isn't even a blood-relation.' Frank winced and coloured slightly, but observed, after a pause, that it was rather difficult for those who were hard up to live in conformity with so lofty a standard. l And I suppose, you know,' he added, 'that the Countess does consider herself related to your people now. In fact, I know she does. I dare say you are right to be so punctilious, and I admire you for it ; only, my dear Douglas, you mustn't expect the general run of us poor sinners to be like you: we can't get much further than admiring vou, most of us.' The Countess could not, in this particular instance, get so far. She might have respected her husband, though she would doubtless have been very angry with him if he had placed an absolute veto upon her proposed benevolence ; but she did not think the better of him for 212 THE COUNTESS RADNA holding opinions which struck her as ridicu- lous and overstrained in themselves, and of which he did not appear to have the courage. 1 For heaven's sake !' she exclaimed rather impatiently, in answer to his final protest, 4 let us not talk like a couple of bourgeois ! You and I surely understand just what money is worth. It is useful, and we are glad to have it and use it when it is wanted; but we are not going to make a god of it, as the middle classes do. If you wish to be very amiable, you won't say another word to me upon this vulgar subject/ He dropped the subject, perceiving that nothing was to be gained by pursuing it ; but he was not convinced that it is vulgar to be scrupulous, nor was he quite pleased with his wife's tone. If he had not had so many other things to think about, he would have gratified her, perhaps, by initiating one of those quarrels which she had once predicted, and of which he had hitherto managed to steer clear. CHAPTER XIII. CE QUE FEMME VEUT. Lovers' quarrels, as all the world knows, have from time immemorial discharged the bene- ficent task of moral thunderstorms, and it was probably as desirable as it was inevitable that some few further struggles for mastery should take place between Douglas Colborne and his wife — if not ujDon the question of Phyllis's dowry, upon some other wdiich would answer the purpose equally well. But, setting aside his natural masculine horror of rows and his political preoccupations, he had a very good reason for being reluctant to cross her at this time, if he could possibly help doing so. The doctor said that, in view of an event which was not so very far distant, the Countess ouirht not to be crossed. He also said that 2i 4 THE COUNTESS RADNA she ought not to be over-fatigued ; and how to carry out the latter injunction without disobeying the former became a problem of more pressing importance to Douglas than that of reconciling his sister's acceptance of a little fortune with his own notions of what may and what may not be accepted from a wealthy sister-in-law. For the Countess, unfortunately, liked London society, while she hated the idea of being sent down to Stoke Leighton before the end of the session. Xor was this prospect made at all more attractive for her by Mrs. Colborne's kind offer to accompany her thither and take care of her until Douglas should obtain release from his Parliamentary labours. She ended, however, after a great deal of dis- cussion and persuasion, by assenting to the proposed arrangement — partly because she really felt too ill and weary to keep up her present manner of life, and partly, it is to be feared, because, like most mortals who are out of health and out of spirits, she was not un- willing to be furnished with the luxury of a grievance. To Stoke Leighton, therefore, she went, attended by Mrs. Colborne and the girls, while Douglas continued for the time CE QUE FEMME VEUT 215 being to inhabit a corner of the mansion in Carlton House Terrace. Now, it may be conceded that if separation from her husband was a very fair sort of grievance, as grievances go, the company of her mother-in-law and her sisters in-law was an even more substantial one. She did not dislike any of them personally, but she did not care about them individually or collec- tively, and they bored her not a little with their kindness, their exaggerated precautions for her comfort, and their unending flow of conversation upon topics which had not the faintest interest for her. She wished them all well, only she wished them out of sight and hearing ; and she looked forward with some apprehension to the probability of their spending the entire summer in their former home. They certainly talked as though such were their intention. They had no country house of their own, and the chances were that Mrs. Colborne's resources did not admit of their hiring one ; added to which, their present quarters suited them admirably, being within easy reach of Windsor, where Colonel Percy was quartered. Although nothing had 2 i6 THE COUNTESS RADNA been said about it, there seemed to be a tacit understanding that the wedding, which was to take place in the autumn, would be solem- nized at the parish church, and that the bride would be married from her brother's house. That sort of thing, the Countess sometimes reflected in moments of ill-temper, is scarcely the reward that one is entitled to expect for having shown one's self amiable as well as generous. Colonel Percy, who was always coming over to luncheon, was a rather dull man ; Phyllis, though grateful and affectionate, was reserved. The pair did not, after all, seem to be passionately in love with one another. It was impossible to feel any great interest in them, and not easy even to participate in the excitement which attended the purchase of the trousseau. The Countess was, perhaps, too rich to care as much as women generally do about chiffons; at any rate, she did not care about them, preferring to leave such matters to her dressmakers, her tailors and her maids. More than once she had vague thoughts of decamping at a moment's notice — so as to avoid argument — and telegraphing to her husband to join her somewhere on the CE QUE FEMME VEUT 217 Continent. More than once, too, she caught herself sighing for Bickenbach, who at least understood her and her moods, though she was such an old goose. Matters mended a little, but only a little, when worn-out legislators were dismissed for their holidays and when Douglas arrived, rejoicing at the prospect of once more donning his cricketing flannels. It is true that the Countess altogether failed to understand the fun of cricket, even after she had witnessed a match and after all its details had been fully and laboriously explained to her ; it is true that to hear cricket, and scarcely anything else, talked about from morning to night is a little trying to anybody who does not play the game ; still, she was glad to have her hus- band back, and glad also that he had brought Frank Innes with him. Frank Innes was the one of Douglas's relations whom she liked by far the best. Frank was not wholly given up to sports and pastimes ; he could talk, for instance, about music, and was just now very willing to do so, having recently discovered, to his great delight, that he possessed a pure tenor voice, which he was cultivating with great assiduity. Frank was one of those 218 THE COUNTESS RADNA young men who are always ready to bestow immense pains upon any kind of work which is not compulsory. ' I'll tell you what it is/ he said one day to the Countess, with whom he was now upon terms of the most confidential intimacy ; ' I shouldn't wonder a bit if I were to turn out a second Sims Reeves some fine morning. I was talking last week to a professional chap, and he told me that the quality of my voice was pretty nearly perfect. To sing a couple of songs at a hundred pounds apiece on Tues- days and Thursdays during the season, and to have the rest of one's time free for innocent diversions, would be about good enough, wouldn't it ?' ' I am not sure that it would be good for you to have too much free time, or that all your diversions would be innocent,' she answered, laughing ; ; but if Heaven has blessed you with a talent or a faculty of any kind, you certainly ought to utilize it. Un- happily for me, Heaven has seen fit to deny me exceptional talents and faculties.' 4 That's quite as it should be. Having granted you exceptional beauty and an excep- tionally big fortune and the very best husband CE QUE FEMME VEUT 219 in the world, Heaven has done more than enough for you, in my humble opinion. I used to think Miss Rowley the luckiest woman of my acquaintance ; but you can walk right away from her. Of course she isn't in the same class with you as far as beauty goes, and I don't suppose she is a quarter as rich ; moreover, she hasn't had the good-fortune to marry Douglas.' 6 Well, no, she hasn't married him, but she doesn't allow that trifling omission to deter her from treating him as if he belonged to her. She was here the other day, and she couldn't have given him more orders or instructions if she had been his sole constituent. I suppose, living where I do, it would be an abominable heresy to say openly that I don't like Miss Rowley ; but, as I am sure you won't betray me, I may confess in strict confidence to you that she is rather too well pleased with herself to please me.' ' Oh, you would like her if you knew her better,' answered Frank. ' I dare say she may seem to you to be a bit dictatorial, but she doesn't mean to be, and she can't very well help seeming so ; because, after all, she does rule the roast hereabouts, you know. Besides, 220 THE COUNTESS RADNA all things considered, I should think you could afford to be generous to her.' That was just what the Countess was not so certain about. No doubt, other things being equal, she could (as Frank Innes might have expressed it) have given Peggy Eowley points and a beating in respect to beauty and fortune ; but the inequality of other things was more manifest to her than it was to her juvenile confidant. She was convinced, and perhaps rightly convinced, that nothing but the accident of having spent an Easter holiday in Paris had prevented Douglas from espous- ing his well-to-do neighbour. She could not but be aware that Peggy would have proved a more suitable helpmate for him than she herself could ever be ; and, although her trust in him was not shaken, she did not absolutely trust Miss Eowley. It stood to reason that Miss Rowley must be a disappointed woman, and one does not need to be a sorceress in order to divine what course a disappointed woman is likely to pursue under certain cir- cumstances. Now, it came to pass that, in accordance with custom and precedent, Miss Rowley gave a garden-party at this time, and that the CE QUE FEMME VEUT 221 Countess Kadna, amongst others, honoured the Swinford Manor festivities with her presence. The honour was duly appreciated, and the Countess was duly admired ; but English people when in the country are apt to be too shy or too lazy to conduct them- selves exactly as they would do in London drawing-rooms, and thus it often happens that strangers find their welcome a somewhat chilling one. The Countess, after the first few minutes, was disagreeably conscious of being left out in the cold. Two or three dowagers sat down beside her, and, with an obvious effort, pumped up commonplaces from the recesses of their minds for her benefit ; but these ladies were so silly and so tedious that she ruthlessly scared them away, and her hostess's middle-aged duenna, who hovered near her, looking anxious and appre- hensive, was a poor substitute for the knot of young people who had congregated round Douglas and were chattering and laughing: together like so many happy children. The Countess would have liked to join the group, but did not choose to do so uninvited, and she appeared to have been forgotten both by her husband and by Peggy Rowley, who at 222 THE COUNTESS RADNA that moment was impressing emphatically upon him the paramount importance of his making a big score at the approaching county cricket-match. ' 1 don't grumble at you for not having electrified the House by your eloquence yet,' the Countess heard her say ; ' you are right to bide your time. But it is as clear as daylight that you must do something to win popular esteem ; and if you were to s;et bowled first ball, I should tremble for your chances at the General Election — which may come any day, mind you.' The listener overheard several more speeches of this half- serious, half-jocular description, and was not best pleased with any of them. It must be acknowledged that if she had been pleased, or even if she had not been slightly provoked, she would have been a rather abnormal sort of wife. The absurd part of it (that, at least, was what she felt) was that all these good people who were turning their backs upon her were so essentially her inferiors. Anywhere on earth, except in Eng- land, they would have been bowing down before her, while she would have been exerting herself with her accustomed graciousness and CE QUE FEMME VEUT 223 affability to set them at their ease. The experience through which she was passing had the advantage of novelty ; but it had the dis- advantage of being novel in quite the wrong direction. To be tired of being a spoilt child is probably the destiny of all Fortune's spoilt children ; but it does not follow that their longing for a little change is at all likely to be gratified by neglect, and the half-hour of undisturbed meditation which was accorded to the Countess Radna convinced her that change of another kind was what she required. ' Do you know what I am going to do ?' she said abruptly to her husband, as he was driving her along the road towards Stoke Leighton in a mail-phaeton, his mother and sisters following in the family barouche. ' I am going home to Hungary. Hungary isn't so very much home, you may say. Well, I grant you that; still, when one is reduced to a choice of evils, one naturally selects the less. I wouldn't for the world say that there is any- thing intrinsically evil about this rural abode of yours, or about Mrs. Colborne, or Phyllis, or Loo, or Miss Rowley, or cricket matches or garden-parties ; only it so happens that all these people and things present themselves to 224 THE COUNTESS RADNA me in an unmistakably evil light for the moment. Set it down to my state of health, if you like — I shall not contradict you/ ' But, my dear Helene,' objected Douglas, whose countenance had fallen considerably during the above outburst, ' it is precisely your state of health which puts such a journey out of the question for the present. I am sorry, though I am not surprised, at your disliking English country life, and later in the year I will take you to Hungary with pleasure if you still wish it, but I don't see how the thing could possibly be done now — I don't, really.' ' I do. It can be done by the simple expe- dient of sending off a few telegrams and taking a few railway tickets. There are doctors in Vienna as well as in London ; there is one of the name of Schott, who is thoroughly acquainted with my constitution, and will be only too pleased to obey any summons from me. Nothing that I know of prevents our leaving England the day after to-morrow — unless, indeed, it be the necessity of your acquiring political distinction by running to and fro seventy or eighty times between one bunch of little sticks and another.' CE QUE FEMME VEUT 225 Douglas laughed a little uneasily. ' Oh, of course the cricket doesn't matter,' said he ; * but there's Phyllis's wedding, you know. If you mean, as I suppose you do, that we are to domicile ourselves in Hungary for the next three months or so, we shouldn't be back in time for that.' ; I should sincerely regret our enforced absence, but I imagine that the bride and bridegroom would contrive to get married quite comfortably without us. In a word, we are not wanted here, and one of us doesn't want to be here ; the only question is whether the other is unselfish enough to tear himself away. Don't trouble to tell me that I am unreasonable and capricious ; all that is under- stood and admitted. But when every admis- sion has been made, the fact still remains that I am at the end of my patience. If you won't take flight with me, I shall have to take flight alone. ' Douglas Colborne was blessed with a very fairly even temper, and could control himself as well as most men ; but, of course, he did think his wife capricious and unreasonable, though he refrained from saying so. He con- jectured that she must have been put out by vol. 1. 15 226 THE COUNTESS RADNA something which had occurred at the garden- party, and he judged it best not to question her, but merely to beg that she would take another twenty-four hours for consideration. ' If you are still in the same mind this time to-morrow, and if the doctor doesn't absolutely forbid it, we will do as you wish,' he said. ' Only I must confess that I shall be very much astonished if the doctor doesn't forbid it.' The Countess rejoined that she was not inclined to acknowledge herself the slave of any doctor ; whereupon her husband made a slight grimace, touched up the horses with his whip and held his tongue. In the course of the evening he consulted his mother, who lifted up her hands and her voice in dismay, and was for betaking herself to dear Helene's bedroom immediately and reasoning with her ; but this Douglas some- what peremptorily forbade, remarking that the case was not one in which counsels of reason were likely to be of much avail. ' What I can't quite make up my mind about,' he added, ' is whether I ought to say Yes or No ; and it looks to me rather as if I should have to say Yes.' CE QUE FEMME VEUT 227 'Oh, but you cant I" remonstrated Mrs. Colborne. ' After having made all your arrangements for the summer and autumn, it would be too ridiculous, besides being most imprudent and foolish, to upset them in obedience to a mere whim, which will pro- bably pass in a day or two. Pray don't bother yourself any more, but leave Helene to me. You might allow me credit for having had some experience of these things and for knowing 1 a little more about them than you can.' That sounded plausible, and Douglas with- drew a veto which, as he could not but be aware, had small chance of being respected, whether he withdrew or maintained it ; but on the ensuing morning the Countess's maids received instructions to pack up, and soon after breakfast his mother sought him out with a crestfallen mien and a confession of defeat. ' Dear Helene is most kind and thoughtful,' the good lady said ; ' she begs us not to dis- turb ourselves in any way on her account, and hopes, as I am sure you do too, that we shall remain here until after the wedding, just as if we had you with us. But she won't 228 THE COUNTESS RADNA hear of abandoning this journey ; she won't even listen to any discussion of the subject. I don't quite know how Helene manages it,' added Mrs. Colborne candidly ; ' but she has a way of making one understand that, when her mind is made up, it would be almost impertinent to argue with her. Perhaps, after all, the risk won't be so very great. However, we shall see what the doctor says.' It was at all events evident that Mrs. Colborne's matronly alarm and maternal solicitude had been lulled to rest by that un- scrupulous bribe of free board and lodging for the remainder of the summer months; and Douglas, perceiving this, was amused in spite of his annoyance. He was naturally rather annoyed at being dragged off to Hungary without rhyme or reason just as the prospect of a period of holiday-making had seemed to lie open to him ; but he was not altogether blind to the petty vexations from which his wife was determined to escape, nor did he think that he would be justified in opposing her fancies, so long as the doctor's consent could be obtained to the fulfilment of them. The local practitioner, it need scarcely be said, sanctioned everything that he was told CE QUE FEMME VEUT 229 to sanction, merely recommending certain pre- cautions which would have been taken with- out his orders, and the Countess scored a victory which was not much the less a victory because it was only won upon sufferance. A strong man can afford, and is sometimes right, to yield a point against his better judgment ; but he may be perfectly certain that, when- ever he does this, his strength will he accounted as weakness by the other sex. The first stage of the journey undertaken by Douglas Colborne and his wife landed them no farther on their way than their own house in London. The Countess, who was in high o'ood-humour, was willing to submit to all trifling restrictions, and did not in the least mind spending a week over a transit which might have been accomplished in a third of that time : provided that she was delivered from Mrs. Colborne and the girls and Peggy Rowley, the rest was a matter of indifference to her — or, at least, that was what she imagined. * I am truly sorry for you,' she said in a half- mocking tone to her husband, as they sat down to dinner together on the first evening, 'but what would you have? Ce que femme 230 THE COUNTESS RADNA veut, Dieu vent; and, to tell you the truth, those excellent relations and friends of yours were beginning to get upon my nerves in an insupportable manner. I really couldn't have endured them another day.' She might have crowed over him a little less defiantly, he thought ; but he kept his temper and held his tongue. Unluckily, that did not satisfy her. She wanted Avhatever it is (the present narrator does not know what it is, and therefore will not attempt to say) that women want when they insist upon provoking unnecessary squabbles ; she was resolved to make him angry ; she laughed at the docility with which he had allowed himself to be placed in political leading-strings by a lady whose manners and appearance she satirized freely ; she inquired whether he had obtained that lady's permission to absent him- self from home, and at length she irritated him into retorting : ' Upon my word, Helene, you would do better to imitate Peggy Rowley in some respects than to sneer at her. She may not be your style, but that doesn't prevent her from being, and well deserving to be, one of ihe most popular women in England. At CE QUE FEMME VEUT 231 any rate, there is nothing small or shabby about her ; and I'm quite sure that if she hated you as much as you seem to hate her, she wouldn't say nasty things about you behind your back.' Well, the Countess had gained her point, and, as so frequently happens in such cases, had got rather more than she had bargained for or desired. Douglas was not a satisfactory man to quarrel with ; anger, which was not a transient emotion with him, made him cool instead of hot, and so it came to pass that the ensuing encounter proved a more serious one than the aggressor had intended it to be. Upon the details of it there is no need to dwell. Most of us, unhappily, know only too well that, whether we remain cool or boil over under provocation, we usually, in the thick of the strife, say things which we afterwards regret ; and if Douglas sinned less than his wife in this respect,, the chances are that he was not a great deal less aggravating. But be that as it may, she retired to her bedroom at length in tears, and without having achieved the hoped-for reconciliation, while he betook himself to his study, to wonder moodily, over a cigar, whether, in marrying 232 THE COUNTESS RADNA as he had done, he had not, perhaps, under- taken a task somewhat too complicated for the average straightforward Briton to cope with. He had smoked a second and a third cigar before an agitated tap at his door was followed by the entrance of the Countess's maid, who came to announce that her mistress had been taken very ill indeed, and that she thought a doctor ought to be summoned. That this was a step which must be taken without delay Douglas perceived as soon as he had run upstairs, two steps at a time ; but that medical skill is of little avail after Nature has caught the bit between her teeth he was destined to be made aware in the small hours of the morning, when a son was born to him, who only survived his birth by a few minutes. ' It is very unfortunate, Mr. Colborne,' said the experienced personage who imparted these sad tidings to him ; ' but we may well be thankful that things are no worse. I am glad to be able to tell you that, so far as can be seen at present, the Countess Radna's life is not in danger. Some danger, of course, there is, and must be ; only there might have been CE QUE FEMME VEUT 233 a great deal more. You cannot have for- gotten my warning you that absolute rest and immunity from worry of any kind would be found essential in her case.' It was thus that Douglas, like many a com- paratively innocent man before him, was humbled to the dust by a sense of inexcusable o-uilt. CHAPTER XIV. CUTTING THE KNOT. Small things, whether they be joys or sor- rows, pass out of sight and are forgotten as soon as they come into rivalry with "Teat ones, and Douglas Colborne had no need to reproach himself for a catastrophe which his wife never dreamt of attributing even remotely to his sternness. Nevertheless, he did re- proach himself, his penitence being in no wise diminished by the evident sincerity with which, when she was able to talk again, she assured him that she Avas unconscious of having anything to forgive. It is true that he had some reason for doubting whether he had been really and truly forgiven ; because it is difficult for a man to understand why the death of an infant w T ho can scarcely be said to have ever lived should be the cause for more CUTTING THE KNOT 235 than a transient emotion of grief, and because the Counters, although she recovered her health as rapidly as could have been ex- pected, did not recover her spirits. In certain respects one of the sexes must always remain a mystery to the other ; perhaps also the honest inability of men to enter into the feelings of women is answerable for a large proportion of those estrangements regarding which it is customary for bystanders to affirm that there is no fault on either side. Such an estrangement now sprang up gradually between Douglas and his wife, and was more or less recognised and deplored by both of them — by him, it may be, rather more than by her. They did not fall out again — it would probably have been much better for them if they had — they were per- fectly good friends and did their best to con- sult one another's comfort and convenience, but each became conscious of a loss of sym- pathy which was not very likely to be regained. In a word, they had witnessed the inevitable extinction of romantic love, while that kind of love which ought always to be ready to take its place at the right moment had somehow failed to put in an appearance. Douglas, as 236 THE COUNTESS RADNA men, when confronted with this universal ex- perience, invariably do, shut his eyes to the truth ; the Countess, as women (perhaps in this instance alone) generally do, looked it in the face and, as they very seldom do, shrugged her shoulders and smiled at it. When she was well enough to travel, he took her to her ancestral domain in Hungary. She expressed a desire to carry out the inter- rupted programme, and of course he asked nothing better than to comply with any wish of hers which seemed to hold out a prospect of restoring her vanished cheerfulness. But Hungary did not produce that effect upon her ; nor did the shooting - parties and festivities which were organized for his benefit exhilarate him. Something was wrong which certainly could not be set right by means of novel experi- ences, or sport, or by the splendid hospitality of neighbouring magnates, who, notwithstand- ing their hospitality, made it manifest, either designedly or because they could not help themselves, that the Countess Radna's hus- band was not in their eyes the Countess Radna's equal. The Right Honourable Douglas Col- borne — to give him the full style and title to which he may lay claim to-day — will always CUTTING THE KNOT 237 retain a genuine liking and admiration for the Hungarian nobility, who, he says, are as good sportsmen and as good fellows as if they had been born Englishmen ; but it is most impro- bable that he will ever care to renew his acquaintanceship with them in their native land. He bade them farewell, with no very pro- found sentiments of regret, in the month of Xovember, by which time his wife had signi- fied to him that she also had had enough of her compatriots. She might have added, but did not add, that she had had enough of his, into the bargain ; she might have told him, but did not tell him, that she was longing to pass the winter in some sunny Southern resort and dreaded the idea of a return to Stoke Lehditon. It was no fault of his that he was unable to divine sentiments so completely at variance with his own ; nor, on the other hand, was it any fault of hers that her hus- band's country residence, when its doors were once more thrown open to admit her, struck her as almost unendurably dull, dreary and forlorn. Some consolation, to be sure, might be derived from the thought that its dulness and dreariness were no longer enlivened by the 238 THE COUNTESS RADNA presence of Mrs. Colborne and her daughters; for one of these ladies was now safely married, while the other two were as safely domiciled in their London home. Still, the outlook in that cold, gra} T , cheerless weather was far from being a joyous one, and the Countess's heart sank as she endeavoured to steel herself to the duty of facing it. ' Oh no, I am not going to hunt again,' she said, in reply to an early suggestion on Douglas's part ; c but don't let that prevent you from following the hounds. In fact, I can't see what alternative is open to you, except suicide.' It was to speeches of that description that Douglas could find no adequate rejoinder. Did she mean that she wanted him to ex- patriate himself, or was it that she cherished a smouldering but unquenchable feeling of resentment against him for having once ad- dressed her roughly at a critical moment, and that, do what he would, she would never be able to live happily with him again ? Either way, silence and patience seemed the safest remedies to trust to, since he had already expressed and given evidence of his repentance, and since he could not turn his CUTTING THE KNOT 239 back upon England, even to please her. So he took to hunting three days a week, and often forgot his troubles in the joy of riding straight, as well as risking his neck every now and again. He was thus employed one afternoon, and the Countess was, as usual, absolutely un- employed, when who should drive up to the door to pay a neighbourly call but Miss Margaret Rowley ! She was admitted, no instructions to turn away visitors having been given to the butler, and she was received with somewhat less of formality than she had anticipated on hearing that the Countess Radna was at home. The Countess was, in truth, so unspeakably bored that she could not for the life of her help welcoming a lady who, in her opinion, was rather too ready to count as a right upon being welcomed. Besides, there were points as to which she felt a certain degree of curiosity which Miss Rowley was presumably in a position to allay ; consequently, she did not trouble herself to beat about the bush, but, after she had rung the bell and ordered tea, began : ' You have known my husband from his infancy, I believe. I wish you would be kind 240 THE COUNTESS RADNA enough to tell me candidly what you think of him.' Miss Rowley stared for a moment and then laughed. 'It is lucky,' she remarked, ' that I think nothing but good of him ; for if I happened to think him a scoundrel or a fool, I could hardly say so, could I ?' c But, as it would be impossible for you to think him either the one or the other, my question isn't an unanswerable one. Of course, I shouldn't have put it if it had been.' ' All the same I don't know that I can answer it,' said Peggy, after a short pause ; ' one doesn't care to tell all the thoughts that one has about one's friends. Speaking broadly, I should say that I think Douglas Colborne an excellent specimen of the average English gentleman. He is excellent, I mean, because he has all the average English gentle- man's good qualities and a considerably larger share of brains. Will that do ?' 1 Yes, if you will not be induced to say more. But it would be more interesting if you were to take into account, as you naturally must when you think about him at all, that he is an English gentleman who has placed himself by his marriage in a very CUTTING THE KNOT 241 unusual situation. What do you suppose he is o-oiiw to make out of that situation ?' ( Doesn't that depend at least as much upon you as upon him ?' asked Peggy in return. ' I am sure that he will always behave as a gentleman should ; but that is really the limit of my knowledge upon the subject. I know no more than that he has married a foreigner, who is also a great lady in her own country, and that in such cases there is probably need for a good deal of giving and taking on both sides. But it is Douglas's nature to give rather than to take ; so it should be easy to live with him.' ' Ah, that is really interesting ! So a person who is more willing to give than to take is your idea of an easy person to live with ? I should have said just the contrary ; but that only shows how useful it is to compare notes with other people. Douglas, as you are evidently aware, will take nothing ; I wonder how much he would give, supposing that he were driven into a corner.' The entrance of the butler, attended by a couple of satellites, bearing a tea-table, a kettle and other paraphernalia, gave Miss Rowley time to consider what response it vol. 1. 16 242 THE COUNTESS RADNA behoved her to make to the above challenge. When she and her entertainer were once more left to themselves, she said : ' I should be sorry to drive him into a corner; the most pacific of Englishmen will show fight if he is treated in that way. I haven't the slightest idea of what it is that you are alluding to: onlv, as you ask me what I think of a man whom I have known intimately all my life, I needn't hesitate to say that I think he should be taken seriously. It would be a hazardous sort of experiment, which he wouldn't understand, to make extravagant demands upon him merely for the sake of discovering whether he would yield to them or not.' 4 If, for example, I were to beg him to take me out of this dismal climate to the Riviera for the rest of the winter ?' ' Oh, I have no doubt he would do that if vou asked him ; only he would have to return in the beginning of February, when Parliament reassembles, you know. Do you really want to go abroad for the winter ?' ' I think I do ; but I am sure that, if I went to Cannes or Mce, I should not want to return in the beginning of February. It CUTTING THE KNOT 243 seems to be a most inconvenient thing to be a member of the British Parliament, and I wish Douglas would resign his membership. But perhaps such a sacrifice would be too heavy a one to require of him ?' ' It certainly would, unless he is a much greater fool than I take him for/ answered Peggy bluntly. ' No man, except an absolute fool, would thiuk of sacrificing his whole career for the sake of giving his wife a few months of amusement ; and supposing that any sane man did make such a fool of himself, his wife would be the very first person to despise him/ ' Cest selonj observed the Countess with a smile ; ' for my own part, I should never despise a man who was capable of making a great sacrifice. Some men, you know, love things, while others — but, of course, not a great many — love people. I was curious to discover in which class you would place my husband, and I find that your impres- sion is much the same as mine. Still, there can be no telling until he has been put to the test.' ' I can't believe,' exclaimed Peggy, with rather more warmth, perhaps, than the occa- 244 THE COUNTESS RADNA sion warranted, ' that you would be so selfish as to test him in that way.' 1 Oh, I am selfish enough for anything. But we will talk about something else now, for I see that I am displeasing you ; and if I have a right to try my husband's patience, I have none at all to try yours. Thank you for answering my question so explicitly.' Peggy was not conscious of having done anything of the sort, but she was conscious of having expressed herself with somewhat un- called-for vehemence; and, although she was a perfect -tempered woman, she would have liked very well, at that moment, to box her hostess's ears. That being a method of showing disapproval which is precluded by modern usages, she took refuge in distant, good-humoured politeness for the next five minutes, after which she got up and said good-bye. After her departure the Countess sat for a long time gazing idly at the fire. She had succeeded to some extent in discomfiting Miss Rowley, but she was not particularly elated by that easy triumph, and the remembrance of a few observations which had fallen from Peggy depressed her. ' A man who may CUTTING THE KNOT 245 always be relied upon to behave like a gentleman, and who will always do what is sensible, and respectable and ordinary,' she murmured — 'oh, that describes him to the life, no doubt, and it is a thousand pities that two people who were made for each other should have been separated by a person who seems to have been made only for herself. If he loved me, or if my baby had lived ' Her eyes suddenly filled with tears; but she was not much given to weeping, and she brushed them impatiently away. ' After all/ she exclaimed, as she started up from her chair, ' it is not a question of a tragedy — who could construct a tragedy out of such materials ? The real danger is that it may degenerate into a farce, and that he and I may agree to grow old and fat together quite com- fortably upon the mutual understanding that nothing in this world is of genuine con- sequence except material well-being and political mediocrity.' Now, there reallv was not, and in her heart she must have known that there was not, much risk of such a descent into bathos as that ; yet she chose to take measures for guarding against it. When Douglas returned, 246 THE COUNTESS RADNA she favoured him with an account of the above-recorded conversation, which distressed him but did not provoke him to anger. ' I dare say Peggy doesn't always choose her w r ords as carefully as she might,' he re- marked ; ' still, she seems to have been sub- stantially in the right. It is true that, if you insisted upon it, I would apply for the Chiltern Hundreds, and I suppose it is equally true that you w 7 on't insist upon it.' 4 Perfectly true,' answered the Countess rather wearily ; ' and that is just w T hy you and I find ourselves in a cul-de-sac. What does one do when one can neither advance nor stand still ? Doesn't one retrace one's steps ?' * Only that is impossible, Helene.' ' Not so impossible as you think, perhaps. Shall I tell you of two things which are really impossible ? One of them is that I should ever become reconciled to the kind of existence which I am now leading, and the other is that you should ever become reconciled to any different kind of existence. It is a great pity, but there is no help for it; so, instead of casting stones at one another, we will go and dress for dinner.' CCTTIXG THE KNOT 247 By dinner-time her mood had undergone so complete a change that Douglas judged it best not to revert to the discussion of painful dilemmas. He was willing to grant any reasonable demand, as well as a good many which might fairly be accounted unreasonable, on his wife's part ; but he did not think him- self bound to anticipate the latter, and he had a strong impression that she was not serious in all her assertions. It was not surprising that she found life at Stoke Leighton a dull business, now that she would no longer hunt. Well, then, they must take a run abroad, that was all, and see what change of scene would do for her. He did not at once make his benevolent intention known, because a great political gathering, at which it behoved him to be present, was to take place in the county during the ensuing week, and he was afraid that she would urge him to shirk it ; but upon the eve of this important affair he announced that immediately after its con- clusion he would be ready to proceed to any Southern winter station which she might select, and he was not a little disappointed by her cool reception of the proposal. 248 THE COUNTESS RADNA 1 Until the first of February, I suppose?' she said interrogatively. ' Well, I might pair, of course ; but I am not sure that I should be able to manage it. Besides, to tell you the truth, Helene, I want to be in the House during the early part of the session. If it wouldn't bore you to listen to a short dissertation upon contemporary politics, I could explain why.' ' Oh, but I think it would bore me very much,' answered the Countess, laughing. c Almost as much, perhaps, as it would bore you to spend a whole winter in the South. Half a winter won't do, thank you ; one must be born English to admit that half a loaf is better than no bread. Nevertheless, I am sincerely obliged to you for offering me the most that you can, and, as I am not going to accept this favour, I dare say you will be good enough to grant me a smaller one in its place. Will you make my excuses to Lord and Lady AYinkheld, and say that I am too unwell to stay with them ? I cannot flatter myself that tbey will miss me, and, if I went, I should only offend them by declin- ing to face a torrent of oratory.' Lord Winkfield was a great territorial CUTTING THE KNOT 249 magnate, under whose aus}:>ices the political o-atherino- above mentioned was to be held, and Douglas knew very well that offence would be given and taken by the Countess Radna's refusal at the last moment to join his lordship's house-party. But, as she re- mained unmoved by his representations and entreaties, he resigned himself to the snubs which undoubtedly awaited him and set off to fulfil his eno'aoement without her. He was duly snubbed by Lady Winkfield on his arrival ; but his host, who was a good- humoured old personage, let him off with a mild caution against allowing himself to be hen-pecked, and he spoke so well at the different meetings to which he was conducted that, what with the applause of his audiences and the congratulations of his colleagues, he had almost got the better of his chagrin by the evening of the second day. Having now done all that was required of him, he took leave of his entertainers and arranged to make an early start on the morrow. How- ever, he did not start so early but that his letters were delivered to him just as he was leaving for the station ; and amongst these was one from his wife, the contents of which 250 THE COUNTESS RADNA filled him with amazement and consterna- tion. It was dated from London, and stated, in a brief, matter-of-course way, that the writer was about to cross over to Paris, en route for the Riviera. 1 Pray excuse this precipitation,' she added. ' It is just possible, though I fear it is not. very likely, that you ma}^ understand how much simpler it is to cut a knot than to exhaust one's patience and hurt one's fingers in a vain attempt to unfasten it. For a day or two, or even a week or two, you will feel angry; but I am quite sure you will not feel lonely while you have your mother and your unmarried sister, and, above all, your Miss Peggy, at hand to console you.' CHAPTER XV. IN THE DARK. It is not unlikely that the Countess would have been pleased, and it is certain that she would have been amused, if she could have seen the effejt produced upon her husband by the short missive which she had addressed to him. Douglas, while driving to the station, read her letter over half a dozen times with- out being able to arrive at the faintest compre- hension of its meaning. Helene explained nothing ; she assigned no reason for her abrupt departure, nor did she mention for how long a time she proposed to absent her- self; he would have supposed that she ex- pected him to follow her had not that hypo- thesis been excluded by her allusion to his probable wrath and possible loneliness. At all events, he must follow her without 252 THE COUNTESS RADNA loss of time ; that was the first thing that became clear to him through a mist of total bewilderment ; and the next was that he must take measures to protect her from the vexa- tious consequences to which so hasty and ill- advised a step on her part might have laid her open. With this end in view he was care- ful, when he reached home, to avoid gratify- ing the evident curiosity of the servants. He merely gave orders for such clothes as he required to be packed up, saying that he was about to join the Countess, who had had to leave for the Continent rather earlier than had been anticipated, and that he would write or telegraph as soon as he should be able to name a date for his return. Then he travelled up to London, and, crossing by the night mail, arrived at the (rare du Nord on the following morning. He was tolerably confident of finding his wife in Pai'is, for he knew what her customary methods of moving from place to place were, and that such arrangements as she deemed essential for a long journey cannot be made from one moment to another ; but he preferred engaging a room at one of the large hotels to proceeding straight to her house, and it was IN THE DARK 253 not until after mid-day that he presented him- self in the Avenue Friedland. It struck him as a good omen that he was instantly and deferentially admitted by the urbane func- tionary whose duty it had been, once upon a time, to turn him away from the door. ' She does expect me, then, after all,' he thought. But he was not quite so well pleased when, on entering the ante-room, he found his further progress barred by the burly form of Dr. Schott, nor did he half like the grin with which his old enemy greeted him. ' I had no idea that you were in Paris, Dr. Schott,' said he. ' May I ask whether you are here by appointment, or only by a — happy accident ?' 1 I was telegraphed for, and I have come,' replied the Doctor, with something very like a chuckle. ' I am always at the orders of the Countess. But you, dear sir — I think you have not been telegraphed for, eh ? Xo, no ! it would be a little too soon for that.' Douglas presumed that the man intended to be impertinent, and was very nearly telling him so, but restrained himself. ' You must be aware,' he remarked, ' that my wife has left England quite unexpectedly, and without 254 THE COUNTESS RADNA having given me any warning of her depar- ture : therefore you won't be surprised at my having come here as quickly as I could in order to see her. Perhaps you will be so good as to let her know that I have arrived.' ' I am not at all surprised,' the Doctor answered, with the same ill-concealed air of amused satisfaction, ' and the Countess shall certainly be informed that you are desirous of speaking with her. As for her consenting to see you, that is another matter. Indeed, I am by no means sure that I ought not to forbid an interview.' ' To forbid it ?' ' In my capacity of the Countess's physician, Men entendu ; I pretend to no other authority over her, or I should have exerted it long ago. If I did not fear to offend you, Mr. Colborne, I would take the liberty to observe that you and she did not know what you were doing when you agreed in such a hurry to bind your- selves together. By this time you have pro- bably discovered the difference between dreams and realities. The Countess, at least, appears to have made the discovery and to have been a good deal agitated by it. All that is no business of mine, you say? Well, sir, it is IN THE DARK 25c my business — and I am paid for performing it — to watch over my patient's state of health, and I do not hesitate to ^ay that her health will suffer from the reproaches which, I per- ceive, are at the tip of your tongue. I have prescribed the only remedy which seems to me likely to prove of any service ; that is, complete change of surroundings and avoid- ance of mental disturbance. Consequently, we are to leave for Xice in a day or two. I am not called upon to prescribe for you ; but, a* a friend, I venture to suggest that you should return home and attend to your affairs. By May or June next, circumstances may have become more favourable to your wishes ; at present, believe me, you will do no good either to her or to yourself by insisting upon your rights. ' By way of response Douglas rang the bell and told the servant, who promptly appeared, to announce him to the Countess. ' You may say,' he added, 'that I wish to see her imme- diately.' Dr. Schott made a deprecating gesture, stuck his hands into his pockets and sauntered towards the window. ' Please to take note,' said he presently, over his shoulder, ' that if 256 THE COUNTESS RADNA you are received, it will be against my advice and without my sanction.' Douglas did not choose to gratify his tor- mentor by any rejoinder ; and, after what seemed to him an unnecessarily protracted delay, the domestic re-entered the room with a request that he would give himself the trouble to step into the Countess's boudoir. How well he remembered that exquisitely furnished apartment, with its subdued light, its Gobelins tapestries, and its faint, inde- scribable perfume ! It was into the same room that he had been admitted on that evening when he had first had the audacity to declare his love, and everything connected with the situation seemed quite oddly the same — in- cluding his own feelings. He had been tremulous and excited then ; he found, some- what to his vexation, that he was tremulous and excited now. He had been resolved then to learn his fate, once for all, and was not that very like his present errand ? And when, after keeping him waiting for a minute or two, his wife made her appearance, arrayed in a tea- gown which exhibited the latest inspiration of the talented artist whom she employed to design such habiliments for her, he felt as if IN THE DARK 257 she had, somehow or other, ceased to be Helene and had become once more the Countess Eadna of the past. He was con- scious of an utterly absurd access of timidity which no doubt, caused him to speak a shade more sharply than he would have done if she had looked less cool and unconcerned. ' May I ask what all this means,' he began. ' You will admit that I am entitled to some explanation, and as yet you have given me none.' 1 Haven't I ?' returned the Countess, en- sconcing herself in a comfortable chair ; ' I thought I had ; but it is true that I wrote in rather a hurry. Indeed, the hurry is the only thing that demands explanation, I suppose, and I should have thought that it would explain itself. Surely a moment of reflection might have spared you the fatigue of this long journey. You know how I detest use- less discussions, and you must have known (because I told you) that I had made up my mind to escape from Stoke Leighton. It is all very well to hesitate until one's mind is made up ; but when once the feat has been accomplished, the sooner one acts the better. I am sorry if I have scandalized the county ; vol. 1. 17 258 THE COUNTESS RADNA only, as I shall never return there, the ques- tion of whether these good people are scan- dalized or not is scarcely of so much import- ance to me as it is to you. However, you will be able to calm their minds a little by assuring them that I have run away alone ; for Dr. Schott, I presume, doesn't count.' ' Are you speaking seriously when you say that you will never return ?' asked Douglas, with a slight quiver in his voice. ' I can hardly believe that you are, because that would imply that you wish to separate your- self from me altogether.' 1 Which would, of course, be inconceivable. Well, if you will excuse me, I would rather not enter upon that question just at present. I am tired and worried, and Dr. Schott will have told you that I am ill. Still, I don't mind saying positively and definitely that nothing would induce me to repeat the ex- periment of residing at Stoke Leigh ton ; one failure of that description is enough for me, and I suppose you won't dispute the indis- putable fact that I have failed.' Douglas did not attempt so hopeless a task ; for, indeed, there was no denying that his wife had failed to adapt herself to the con- IN THE DARK 259 ditions of English country life. He only remarked, somewhat grimly : 1 Stoke Leighton is my home.' 4 It is your home if you choose to make it so ; but it cannot be mine. A la rigueur I could put up with London, although I strongly suspect that London and you, when you are there, would get on as well as possible with- out me. Suppose you were to return home now and try getting on without me ? I shall be surprised as well as flattered if, after the warm weather sets in again, I receive a press- ing invitation to rejoin you.' ' I can't understand what you mean,' said Douglas despairingly. ' I may be very stupid ; but I frankly confess that I am at my wits' end. What have I done that you should speak to me in this way ?' The Countess sighed impatiently. 1 What have you done ?' she echoed. ' Will you be satisfied if I answer that you have done an excessively stupid thing in rushing after me ? Xo, of course you won't. You are — pray forgive my candour — too bourgeois in your ideas to realize the wisdom of letting a wilful woman have her way or to compre- hend that nothing is more ordinary than for the 260 THE COUNTESS RADNA wife of a public man to spend the winter abroad, while his duties retain him at home ; you must needs treat yourself to the luxury of one of those noisy scandals which are so dear to your countymen and countrywomen. Very well ; since you will have it so, you shall not be defrauded by me of your queer, insular method of enjoying yourself. Let it be agreed and proclaimed, if you choose, that our separation is to be permanent.' 1 But, in the name of reason and common- sense, why ?' exclaimed Douglas, growing a little warm — for, after all, he was not a bourgeois, and he did not much relish being called by that name. ' Is it only because you don't like Stoke Leighton that you talk so coolly of abandoning me ? That would be too absurd ! Come, Helene, won't you give me your true motives ? Upon my word of honour, I am as completely in the dark about them as a man can be/ ' Your word of honour,' observed the Countess, smiling, ' is not much more to the purpose than your invocation of reason and common-sense. If you haven't discovered by this time how little reason and common-sense have to do with me or my actions, you may IN THE DARK 261 well be in the dark ! I despair of being able to enlighten you; all I can say is, that you had better go home and allow me to go to Xice. In fact, I shall go to Xice, whether you allow me or not.' Douglas paced up and down the room three or four times before trusting himself to make an)' rejoinder. He was aware that he had reached an important crisis in his life ; he was aware that, unless he could exert his marital authority now, he would never be able to exert it again; yet he shrank from issuing a positive order. His wife, who was pecuniarly independent of him, could not be forced to obey his orders, nor could he emphazise them by anything short of an ultimatum, which appeared to have no terrors for her. He might, as every unconcerned spectator will perceive, have conquered by throwing himself at her feet and repeating some of those vows of unalterable love to which she had once lent a willing ear ; but as he was by no means unconcerned, and as he was very excusably incensed, the notion of stooping to conquer did not enter into his head. So, as soon as he felt cool enough to measure his words de- liberately, he said: 262 THE COUNTESS RADNA ' You force me to the conclusion that you wish to rid yourself altogether of my control. I don't know, and you refuse to tell me, what has induced you to take a step for which I was utterly unprepared ; but for some time past I have not been so blind as to ignore what I suppose you meant to be obvious — that any love you may once have had for me has worn itself out. However much that may hurt me, I don't personally consider it a sufficient reason for practically annulling our marriage : but your views of marriage are not, I know, the same as mine, and I need scarcely say that I have no wish to insist upon my rights as a husband against your will. At the same time, I think we must do one thing or the other. I can't see my way to accepting a partial separation.' ' Then we will call it a total separation, and say no more about it/ returned the Countess, with a faint flush upon her cheeks, but with an air of undiminished amiability. ' You express yourself in such admirable Christian terms that I am sure you won't hesitate to throw the whole blame upon such a heathen as me, and you are most heartily welcome to do so. Let it be assumed that the mistake IN THE DARK 263 from first to last has been my fault ; it isn't my fault that civilized nations are not civi- lized enough to wipe out mistakes of that kind by means of a divorce. However, I can at least promise to give you no trouble for the future, and I won't detain you any longer for the present. As you have heard from Dr. Schott, I am not very well to-day ; so, if you want to make formal conditions and provisos and to have them set down in writing — as you probably do — perhaps you wouldn't mind calling again to -morrow 7 .' She was out of the room before Douglas had time to reply ; but in truth he would have made no reply beyond a curt acquies- cence to her, had she seen fit to wait for one. His pain and bewilderment were thrown into the background by his just indignation ; and as he tramped back towards the hotel in which he was lodging, with his chin in the air and a steady frown upon his brow, the very last thing that he dreamt of w^as that his wife was at that same moment crying her eyes out in her bedroom because — to borrow the amaz- ingly inappropriate phrase which she used in her self-corn munin£s — he had 'deserted' her. CHAPTER XVI. SANS RANCUNE. That Douglas Colborne did well to be angry — or, at least, that he had the best ostensible reasons for being angry — everyone will admit ; but it must be also admitted that he ought to have had wit enough to perceive the extreme improbability of his wife's having behaved as she had done out of sheer caprice or impatient weariness of his society. After a dim fashion he did perceive this ; capricious as she was, and weary of him as he believed her to be, it nevertheless seemed unlikely that she should go the length of so abruptly de- manding a separation without having taken the trouble to provide herself with some sort of plausible excuse. Still, the answer to that was that, likely or unlikely, the thing had happened ; and when he went to bed, after a SANS RANCUNE 265 long and very unhappy evening, he could not see his way to making any overtures for a possible reconciliation. Of course, matters presented themselves to him under a somewhat different aspect on the ensuing morning — matters always do look different in the morning ; and that is one of the many objections to answering disagreeable letters by return of post. Douglas awoke to the full consciousness of having been disagree- ably dealt with ; but a shave and a cold bath aided him to the conclusion that he himself had not been precisely agreeable. Like the honest man that he was, he did his best to comprehend his wife's standpoint, and al- though he could not, as a matter of fact, comprehend it in the least, he advanced far enough on the way towards doing so to acknowledge that she had not met with all the consideration to which she was entitled at his hands. He ought to have remembered that some allowance should be made for femi- nine vagaries and eccentricities ; he ought to have seen that to a woman of her class and habits Stoke Leigh ton, with its provincial sports and its long days of solitude, must needs end by becoming intolerable ; he ought, 266 THE COUNTESS RADNA perhaps, to have replied to her first remon- strances by promising to take her to the South, and even, if she made a point of it. to leave her there for a month or two by herself. As a rule, the wives of English squires con- sider it a part of their duty to be where their husbands are ; but, then, his wife was not an ordinary English squire's wife, and he should have borne that circumstance in mind in his dealings with her. Upon the whole, his con- science would not permit him to shirk the obligation of making a sort of apology. He did not propose to make a very full or a very abject apology, because he conceived that something in the shape of an apology was due also to him ; but he was anxious to put him- self in the right, and he was not sure that he had clone this on the previous afternoon. According to the popular saying, it takes two to make a quarrel, and he was resolved not to quarrel with Helene ; although she could, no doubt, if she persisted in her present attitude, force him to separate himself from her. There is a shade of distinction between acquiescence and consent. It was in the admirably calm and unim- passioned frame of mind induced by these SANS RANCUNE 267 reflections that he had himself driven once more to the Avenue Friedland and was again ushered into the anteroom where he had held his parley with Dr. Schott. This time, how- ever, it was not the Doctor, but the Baroness von Bickenbach, who advanced to greet him, and the Baroness wagged her head mourn- fully, as well as reproachfully, while she took his outstretched hand. ' Ah, monsieur,' she sighed, ' what a misfor- tune ! what a sad misfortune !' 1 It is a misfortune which may be repaired, I hope,' answered Douglas, in his halting French. ' Indeed, it is not so much a misfor- tune as a misunderstanding. If I have been in any way to blame for it, I am ready to beg pardon, and T have come here to say so. Would you, if it is not troubling you too much, be so good as to inform my wife that I have come ?' ' Oh/ returned the Baroness, with another deep sigh, ' there is no need to inform her. She knew very well that you would come, and everything has been prepared. As for begging her pardon, I do not wish to discourage you, but I fear that it is too late to do that now. She would never have sent for me 268 THE COUNTESS RADNA if she had not meant to break with you finally.' ' She may be induced to reconsider her decision,' observed Douglas, choking down an inclination to retort that he was the Countess's husband, not her slave, and that he might fairly claim to have a voice in any decision that might recommend itself to her. ' She may,' agreed the Baroness despond- ently ; ' but, alas ! I doubt whether she will be induced to do so by you or by me. You do not know her, or you would never have suffered things to come to their present pass. Do you remember that day when you stopped me in the street, and when I cautioned you about her, and advised you to go home ? I thought at the time that she would refuse you, as she had refused so many others ; and I believe she did refuse you. I was very sorry, for your sake, when you joined us afterwards in the Pyrenees. She accepted you then under the influence of excitement and emo- tion ; I do not think she would have accepted you if it had not been for that unlucky thun- derstorm.' 1 In short, you do not think that she ever cared for me.' SANS RANCUNE 269 ' I will not say that. She did care for you, and you might have made her care for you to the end of your life ; only ' The Baroness paused, and muttered some ejaculation in German. ' It is difficult to explain,' she re- sumed presently, ' especially when one is not speaking in one's own language ; but I think that you have had your opportunity, and that you have missed it. Ah, monsieur, pardon me for saying so ; but you must have been very — maladroit! The censure was, perhaps, not wholly un- merited. Douglas received it very meekly; yet he remained of opinion that clumsiness is not an offence beyond reach of pardon, and that love, if it has once existed, cannot be killed quite so easily as the Baroness seemed to imply. He was beginning to formulate these modest views when he was interrupted by the entrance of Dr. Schott, who drew his heels together and saluted the visitor with a profound bow. ' I am instructed,' announced the Doctor, in his thick, harsh voice, the accents of which betrayed some inward exultation, l to treat with you, sir, on behalf of the Countess Radna. She is still, I regret to say, indis- 270 THE COUNTESS RADNA posed, and does not feel equal to the discus- sion of matters of business ; although I am to tell you that, as soon as we have concluded our little talk, she will not object to see you in my presence and that of the Baroness von Bickenbach, should you desire it.' 1 1 desire to see my wife alone,' said Douglas, ' and T may have to insist upon doing so. That, however, is a question between her and me, with which you are in no way concerned. What about the matters of business which you say you are charged to discuss with me ? They won't entail a great deal of discussion, I hope ?' The Doctor bowed, and replied that he hoped they wouldn't. 'Indeed,' he added, ' there is no reason why they should; for the Countess's conditions are in some respects so moderate and in others so liberal that they can scarcely fail to be acceptable to you. First of all, I am instructed to say that a sum of money large enough to produce an income of at least three thousand pounds sterling will at once be placed to your credit, and that, if you find that donation insufficient, it will be increased. Secondly ' * Stop a moment,' interrupted Douglas. ' I SA XS RANCUNE 271 should have thought it would have been understood — but as it apparently isn't under- stood, I may as well say so — that, in the event of a separation being agreed upon, I shall not dream of touching a penny of my wife's fortune. Xow you can go on.' The Doctor inclined his head and obeyed. The remainder of the stipulations were such as might have been anticipated, and, when summed up, amounted to a declaration of complete independence, modified by certain concessions which seemed to have been framed with a view to averting scandal. It was suggested, for instance, that the husband and wife should for the future meet once or twice in the course of the year, as friends, and that the fact of their union having been dissolved by mutual consent should not be formally made public. Douglas did not again break in upon Dr. Schott's harangue; but when it appeared to have come to an end, he said : ' I. have no remark to make about all that, except that I must decline to be placed in the ridiculous position of meeting my wife as a friend, and that I see no object at all in keeping up a pretence which everybody would know to be a 272 THE COUNTESS RADNA pretence. But I will explain myself to her, not to yo u. Now that you have discharged your mission, be so kind as to go and tell her from me that no arrangement of any sort can be concluded until I have had a few words with her in private.' ' 1 will deliver your message, sir,' answered the Countess's plenipotentiary, speaking with that exaggerated deference which is almost as pleasant to the person addressed as a slap in the face ; ' but I have already had the honour of mentioning to you what my instructions are upon the subject.' He was absent only for a short time, during which Bickenbach continued to emit noisy sighs at regular intervals, like minute-guns, and when he re-entered the room he was accompanied by the Countess, who looked perfectly serene and composed. She walked straight up to her husband, and held out her hand to him, w r ith a smile, saying : 'Sans rancime, nest-ce pas?' And then, before he could reply, she added : 'lam glad you won't take the money. The offer had to be made as a matter of form, you understand; but it was not intended to be insulting, and I felt tolerably sure that you would not take SAWS RANCUNE 273 advantage of it. I am capable of doing you justice, you see, now that our relations have been placed upon a less impossible footing.' Douglas was a good deal disconcerted. He did not perceive that this assumption of good- humoured sang-froid must necessai'ilv, at such a moment, be a mere mask, and that, whatever might be his wife's feelings, they could not be those which she professed. On the contrary, his conviction was that, for good or for ill, she had resolved to be done with him ; that, to use Bickenbach's words, he had had his oppor- tunity and missed it, and that nothing which he could do or say now would avail to piece together the fragments of two shattered lives. Xot, for the matter of that, that the Countess's life seemed to be in much clanger of being shattered. Her marriage had been a painful episode, the memory of which she would doubtless hasten to put away from her, now that she had regained her freedom ; after all, it was but logical that she should so regard a tie which for her had no religious sanction or significance. Then, too. while she stood smiling at him, he was sensible once more of that remoteness from her which had vexed him on the previous day, and which, in spite vol. 1. 18 274 THE COUNTESS RADNA of himself, caused him to speak drily and formally. However, he made his little effort. ' I came here to ask your pardon, Helene,' he began. l On thinking things over, I saw that you had some reasons for complaint against me ; I wished to tell you that I was sorry for having shown any want of considera- tion for your wishes, and that, although I still thought you had taken a most extreme and uncalled-for way of manifesting your dis- pleasure, I should be willing, on my side, to overlook that and let bygones be bygones. That, in the main, was what I intended to say ; but it stands to reason that I could say a good deal more if you Avould consent to see me alone for a few minutes. Is that too great a favour to ask ?' ' All things considered, you have been so docile and so accommodating,' answered the Countess, with a slightly mocking intonation, 4 that I can refuse you nothing ; and, if you make a point of it, I will request our good friends here to leave us. At the same time, I must warn you that the solitude of the Sahara would not bring us any nearer to one another than we are now. As far as pardon goes, I Sans rancune 275 assure you that I do not cherish the smallest feeling of bitterness against you, though I regret to hear from Dr. Schott that you decline to be my friend. The truth is that you are absolutely pardonable in some respects, and absolutely unpardonable in others. To the best of my belief, you deserve neither credit nor blame ; we are what we are — all of us — and we cannot make ourselves what we are not. That is why we are going to part, you and I, and that is why anything in the shape of a parting scene seems to me to be super- fluous. As you please, however.' What answer could be made to such a speech ? Douglas was hurt and stung by it into rejoining : ' Any scene that you consider superfluous must be rendered superfluous by that fact alone. There is nothing more to be said, that I know of, except of course that the money which you were kind enough to bestow upon my sister at the time of her marriage must now be returned to you. I will see to it as soon as I reach home again.' 1 Let me beg of you to do nothing of the sort — or, rather, since you do not seem to be in a mood to grant concessions, let me point out to you that you and your sister are two distinct 276 THE COUNTESS RADXA persons. I have no quarrel with her ; nor, I hope, has she any with me. At all events, if my humble wedding-present is to be flung back in my face, it must be flung by her hand or her husband's, not by yours. There is to be a quarrel between you and me, since you insist upon calling it by that name ; but T trust that this will not disturb my amicable relations with your family when I return to London, if I ever do return to London. And, now that I come to think of it, I have a house there. Are you, I wonder, cool enough to realize the immense advantage, from your own point of view, of washing our matrimonial dirty linen in secret ?' 1 1 am afraid I cannot pretend to be as cool as you are,' answered Douglas ; ' still, I think I may safely say that no degree of subsequent coldness will ever reconcile me to the idea that my sister is drawing a large income from one who refuses to be my wife any longer. I shall tell her what my notion of her obvious duty is, and I imagine that she will concur in it ; but, as you truly say, I am not in a posi- tion to issue commands. As for what you elegantly call washing our dirty linen in secret, I need hardly tell you that I shall not SANS RANCUNE 277 condescend to secrecy. I am not ashamed of myself, and I am not going to behave as though I were.' The Countess gazed at him compassion- ately. ' Poor fellow!' she ejaculated; 'what a hornets' nest you are about to stir up ! You will outlive the annoyance, though, and you will have the comfort of pluming yourself upon your perfect integrity. After all, I don't know why I should pity you.' Pity was certainly the very last thing that her husband was desirous of claiming from her. He left her presence and her house a few minutes later, and it cannot be denied that his mingled distress and anger were to some extent allayed by that consciousness of integrity to which she had referred. He had done all that he could possibly do ; he had gone as far as any human being with an atom of self-respect could go in condoning an offence which he had every right to resent and craving: forgiveness for offences of which, when all was said, he had not been intention- ally guilty. It only remained for him to seek oblivion in the pursuit of an honourable career and to take care that he did not break his heart for the sake of one who assuredlv 278 THE COUNTESS KADNA was unworthy of so tragic a tribute to her fascinations. Thus hastily was terminated an alliance which, perhaps, had been contracted with undue haste ; and thus, in all probability, would a thousand alliances terminate, were there a thousand ladies whose marriage vows weighed as lightly upon them as did those of the Countess Eadna. Naturally, Mrs. Col- borne was not a lady of that description ; and deeply grieved and shocked was she when her son appeared unexpectedly in Elvaston Place one evening' with the intelligence of the cata- '& gence strophe which had come upon him. ' This is much too dreadful to be possible !' was the comment which at once rose to her lips ; and the next thing that she said was just what Douglas had felt sure that she would say : ' I do hope you haven't told any- body else !' He replied that he had not as yet done so, because he had seen nobody else to speak to, since his arrival in England, except a railway- porter, a cabman and a butler ; ' but,' he added, ' I have no intention of concealing the truth, though I am not bound to proclaim it. There would be no object in a concealment SANS RANCUNE 279 which, at the best, could only be temporary; for dreadful as you may think my separation from my wife, and dreadful as I myself think it, it is an accomplished fact. Our union could not be more completely dissolved if one of us were dead.' It took some little time to persuade Mrs. Colborne of the truth of the latter assertion ; and even when she seemed to be persuaded, she had certain mental reservations, resolving that she would write to her daughter-in-law and explain that Douglas was hereditarily undemonstrative, that his affections were all the more deep and steady because he seldom gave verbal expression to them, and so forth. Meanwhile, she was very pleased to hear that the Countess did not wish to quarrel with her, and she dissented altogether from her son's quixotic notion that Phyllis ought at once to surrender the dowry upon the strength of which she had espoused a man of small means. Colonel and Mrs. Percy were quite of one mind with her as to that, and were not un- naturally indignant with Douglas for having so selfishly placed them in a delicate position. Some subsequent correspondence passed be- 280 THE COUNTESS RADNA tween them and the Countess upon the subject, and they did, in a half-hearted sort of way, offer to submit to the suggested sacri- fice ; but, of course, the upshot of it was that they kept the money, while they conceived a grudge against the head of the Colborne family which, for the matter of that, they continue to harbour at the present day. Douglas, indeed, obtained very little sym- pathy from his relatives. The hero of a total fiasco cannot expect to be sympathized with, and a man who, after marrying one of the greatest heiresses and most charming women in Europe, is unable to induce her to live with him must be admitted to have made a very bad kind of fiasco. His sister Loo was the only one who was really sorry for him, and condoled with him honestly, if a trifle clumsily. ' Ah,' she exclaimed one day, ' what a thousand pities it is that you didn't marry Peggy Eowley ! Peggy wouldn't have picked quarrels with you ; she wouldn't have wanted to drag you abroad in the middle of the hunt- ing season ; she would have gone to church, like other people, and she would have taken an interest in the things that interest you. SANS RANCUNE 281 But it's too late to think of all that now !' It was much too late to think of it, and not very good taste to speak of it. Such was the substance of Douglas's rejoinder; never- theless, he could not help inwardly acknow- ledging that there was a good deal of truth in what his sister said. Not that it signified ; because he did not love Peggy Rowley, whereas, in spite of all that had happened, he did still love his wife. EXD of VOL. i. BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD. /