A SUPPER AT THE "MILAN," AND A MEETING
Drexley, a travelled man of fastidious tastes and with ample means to
gratify them, proved a delightful host. In his earlier days he had been
a constant diner-out; he understood the ordering of impromptu meals, and
he had that decision and air which inspires respect even in a
head-waiter. He marshalled his little party to the table reserved for
them, waved away the _table d'hote_ card, and ordered his dishes and
wine with excellent judgment and consideration for the tastes of his
guests. It was all most delightful--delightfully novel to Cicely and
her friend, delightful to Drexley, who was amazed to find that the power
of enjoyment still remained with him. The soft strains of music rose
and fell from a small but perfectly chosen Hungarian band out on the
balcony, the hum of conversation grew louder and merrier at every
moment, the champagne flashed in their glasses, and a younger Drexley
occupied the place of their kindly but taciturn host. Douglas, to whom
fell the entertaining of Cicely's friend, was honestly delighted at the
change. But in the midst of it came a crushing blow. Emily de Reuss
walked into the room.
As usual she was marvellously dressed, a stately glittering figure in a
gown of shimmering black which seemed at every moment on fire. Her
beautiful neck and shoulders were uncovered and undecorated; she walked
between a grey-headed man, who wore the orders of an ambassador and a
blue sash on his evening clothes, and his wife. Every one turned to
look at her, every one was watching when she stopped for a moment before
Drexley's table, but every one did not see the flash in her eyes and the
sudden tightening of her lips as she recognised the little party. Yet
she was graciousness itself to them, and Douglas was the only one who
noticed that first impulse of displeasure. She rested her fingers
almost affectionately on Drexley's shoulder, and the new flush of colour
in his cheeks faded into sallowness at her touch.
"Here are two at least of my friends who have proved faithless," she
said, lightly. "I have been abroad for--ah! how long it seems--one,
two, three months, and neither of you has bidden me welcome back to this
wonderful city."
"We are not magicians," Douglas answered, "and as yet I am sure there is
no paper which has chronicled your return. Only yesterday I was told
that you were at Vienna."
"Never," she said, smiling into his face, "never under any circumstances
believe anything anybody ever says about me. I have to tell that to my
friends, in order that I may keep them. Tell me, have you begun the
country letters yet for Mr. Anderson?"
"I send my first one away on Thursday," Douglas answered.
"You will send me a proof?"
"If I may, with pleasure."
She turned to Drexley.
"And you, my friend," she said, "how have things gone with you? The
_Ibex_ is as good as ever. I bought this month's at a kiosk in Buda. You
must get Mr. Jesson to write you more stories as good as 'No Man's
Land.'"
Drexley looked up at her with a grim smile twitching at the corners of
his lips.
"Yes," he said, quietly. "It was a good story, although I am afraid we
rather humbugged Jesson about it. I'm not at all sure that he'll trust
us with another."
She returned Drexley's look with a stare of non-comprehension. It was
the first sign of revolt from one in whom she had thought all along such
a thing dead. Then with a pleasant nod to Douglas she passed on,
threading her way slowly amongst the tables to where her friends were
waiting. It was not until after she had gone that the two men realised
how utterly she had ignored their two companions.
They took up the thread of their conversation--and it was the unexpected
which intervened. Drexley relaxed still further; there was a quiet
humour in everything he said; he took upon his shoulders the whole
entertainment of the little party. The coming of Emily de Reuss might
well have been a matter of indifference to him. With Douglas it was
strangely different. To him she had never seemed more beautiful; the
fascination of her near presence, her voice, her exquisite toilette
crept into his blood. He was silent at first, a bright light gleamed in
his eyes, he watched her continually. A sense of aloofness crept over
him. He spoke and ate mechanically, scarcely noticing that he was
drinking a good deal more wine than usual. Once he glanced quickly at
Cicely; her cheeks were flushed, and she was looking her best--he saw
only her imperfections. Her prettiness, after all, was ordinary; her
simple evening gown, even to his inexperienced eyes, suggested the home
dressmaker; that slight tenderness for her which only a few days ago had
seemed such a pleasant thing seemed suddenly swept away in the broad
flood of a passion against which unconsciously he had long been
struggling. He forced himself after a while to share in their
conversation, he joined in their laughter and listened to Drexley's
stories, but all the time with a sense of inward excitement which he
found it hard to conceal. Coffee and cigarettes were served at
Drexley's suggestion out in the palm court attached to the restaurant.
Afterwards, when the girls rose to leave, Douglas was conscious for the
first time of a look of reproach in Cicely's dark eyes. He pretended to
ignore it--he felt that any sort of response just then was impossible.
The girls refused any escort home. They drove away in a hansom, and
Drexley remained upon the pavement listening to the echo of their
farewell speeches as to a very pleasant thing. He turned back with a
rare smile upon his lips and laid his hand upon Douglas's shoulder.
"Your cousin is charming, Jesson," he said. "I'll never be able to
thank you enough for this evening. For the first time I have felt that
after all there may be a chance for me."
"I'm very glad," Douglas answered--"very glad indeed."
Drexley looked at him curiously.
"You're not quite yourself this evening, Jesson," he remarked.
"I'm all right. Which way are you going--to the club?"
Drexley shook his head.
"Back to my rooms," he answered. "I shall have a pipe and go to bed. I
haven't slept well lately. To-night I think I shall."
They were parted by a stream of outcoming people, and Douglas took
advantage of the opportunity to slip away. A little way along the
street a small brougham, which was very familiar to him, was waiting.
"Twenty, Grosvenor Square," he said, hailing a hansom.
He was driven through the seething streets, along Piccadilly, all on
fire with its streams of people, carriages, and brilliant lights, and,
arriving at the corner of the Square, jumped out. He walked slowly up
and down the pavement. He could feel his heart thumping with
excitement; his cheeks were burning with an unusual colour. He cursed
himself for coming, yet the sound of every carriage which turned the
corner sent the blood leaping through his veins. He cursed himself for
a fool, but waited with the eagerness of a boy, and when her brougham
came into sight he was conscious of an acute thrill of excitement which
turned him almost dizzy. Supposing--she were not alone? He forgot to
draw back into the shadows, as at first had been his intention, but
stood in the middle of the pavement, so that the footman, who jumped
down to open the carriage door, looked at him curiously. She was within
a few feet of him when she stepped out.
"Douglas!" she exclaimed. "Is that you?"
"May I come in, or is it too late?"
She looked into his face, and the ready assent died away upon her lips.
He noticed her hesitation, but remained silent.
"Of course," she said, slowly. "What have you done with your friends?"
"They have gone home," he answered, shortly. "I came on here. I wanted
to see you."
They passed into the house and to her little sitting-room, where a couch
was drawn up before a tiny fire of cedar wood, and her maid was waiting.
Emily dismissed her almost at once, and, throwing herself down, lighted
a cigarette.
"Sit down, my friend, and smoke," she said. "I will tell you, if you
like, about my travels, and then I must hear about the novel."
But Douglas came over and stood by her side. His eyes were burning with
fire, and his voice was tremulous with emotion as he replied.
"Afterwards. I have something else to say to you first."