Princess Vulpini, who had not escaped the fashionable complaint--the
_Morbus Schliemaniensis_, had found a treasure no further off than in
an old-clothes shop in the Via Aracoeli, where she had bought two
wonderful shields from designs, she was assured, of Benvenuto Cellini's
and a fragment of tapestry said to have been designed by Raphael, and
she had invited a few intimate friends--Truyn, Sempaly, von Klinger,
and Count Siegburg, an Austrian attache, to give their opinion as to
the genuineness of her find. She was Truyn's sister and a few years
younger than he; she had met Prince Vulpini at Vichy when spending a
season there with her invalid father and soon afterwards had married
him, and now for twelve years she had lived in Rome, loving it well,
though she never ceased railing at it for sundry inconveniences, was
always singing the praises of Vienna and would have all her shopping
done for her "at home" because she was convinced that nothing was to be
had in Rome but photographs, antiques and wax-matches.
The company had just finished a lively dinner, throughout which they
had unanimously abused the new Italian Ministry; but with the arrival
of the coffee and cigarettes they turned to the consideration of the
princess's antiquities which she had spread out on the floor for
inspection. The gentlemen threw themselves on all-fours to examine the
arras and the shields, and pronounced their verdict with conscientious
frankness. No one, it seemed, was thoroughly convinced of the
authenticity of the treasures but the Countess Marie Schalingen, a lady
who had been for some few weeks in Rome as the princess's guest; all
the others had doubts. The most vigorous sceptic of them all was Count
Siegburg, who, to be sure, was the one who knew least of such matters,
but who nevertheless spoke of "electrotype casts and modern imitations"
with supreme decisiveness.
Wips, or more correctly Wiprecht Siegburg, was the spoilt child of the
Austrian circle; I doubt whether he could have invented gunpowder, have
discovered America, or have proved that the earth goes round, but for
work-a-day company he was certainly pleasanter than Schwarz, Columbus
or Galileo. He had been attached to the embassy with no hope of his
finding a career, but simply to get him away from Vienna, where his
debts had at last become inconveniently heavy. His widowed mother,
after much meditation, had hit upon this admirable plan for checking
her son in his extravagance.
"You make me quite nervous, Siegburg," said the princess at length,
"though I know that you have not the faintest glimmering of knowledge
on the subject."
"Perhaps you are right," he answered coolly. "At any rate, I have lost
confidence lately in my critical instincts. I always used to think that
the genuineness of antiquities was in proportion to their dirt; but now
that I have learnt that even the dirt is counterfeit I have lost all
basis of judgment."
They all laughed at this confession, not so much for its wit as because
every one laughed at Siegburg's little sallies. They were in the
smoking-room, a snug apartment, picturesquely and comfortably furnished
with carved wood and oriental cushions. All the party were on the
intimate terms of "just ourselves," a mixture of courteous deference
and hearty friendliness. The conversation was not precisely learned; on
the contrary, there was a certain frivolity in its tone; very bad jokes
were perpetrated and some anecdotes related savoring of Saint-Simon in
raciness without any one being scandalized, for they were not in the
mood to run every jest to earth, to treat every point by chemical
analysis, or take every word literally. Superficiality is sometimes a
gracious and a blessed thing.
"I feel so thoroughly at home to-day--in such an Austrian
atmosphere...." exclaimed the hostess. "But I have a presentiment that
it will not be of long duration. Mesdames de Gandry and Ferguson are
dining in this neighborhood...."
As she spoke the servant announced Prince Norina.
"'Coming events cast their shadows before,'" quoted Sempaly; it was
well known that when Prince Norina made his appearance the Countess de
Gandry would soon follow. Norina was fat and fair, handsome on the
barber's block pattern, and for the last four or five years had been
dancing attendance on the French countess. He bowed to the princess,
shook hands with the men and was instantly seized upon by the master of
the house to listen to a tirade on the latest misdemeanors of the
government. Vulpini was the blackest of the Black, a strong adherent of
the pope, though from political rather than religious bias---chiefly
indeed as a fanatically exclusive Roman, who scorned to make common
cause with Italy at large, and regarded "_Italia unita_" as a wild
chimera. Prince Norina, who had no political convictions, listened to
him and nodded assent to anything and everything.
The company now adjourned to the drawing-room, a large uncomfortable
room furnished in a motley style, partly Louis XV. and partly Empire,
and which opened out of the more splendid salon in which the princess
received formally, and the boudoir to which none but her most intimate
friends were admitted. The conversation had lost much of its
liveliness, and had flattened to a level at which some of the company
had taken refuge in photographs when Madame de Gandry and Mrs. Ferguson
were announced and rustled in.
Madame de Gandry--a pale brunette, interesting rather than pretty, with
a turned-up nose and hard bright eyes, noisy and coquettish,
inconsiderate and saucy, because she fancied it gave her style--had for
the last five years ruled the destinies of Prince Norina. Society had,
however, agreed, perhaps for its own convenience, to regard their
intimacy as mere good fellowship. The lady was looked upon as one of
those giddy creatures who love to sport on the edge of an abyss. Mrs.
Ferguson, the daughter of a hotel-keeper at San Francisco and wife of a
man whose wealth increased daily, was the exact opposite to Madame de
Gandry--white and pink, with large eyes and sharp little teeth, very
slender and flat-figured like many Americans. She dyed her hair,
rouged, dressed conspicuously, spoke eccentric English and detestable
French, sang Judic's songs, and had been introduced to Roman society by
the Marchese B---- who had met her at Nice. Her friendship with Madame
de Gandry had begun on the strength of a landau they had hired between
them, had culminated in an opera-box on the same terms, and would
probably be destroyed by a lover--in common too.
A few gentlemen had also arrived: Count de Gandry, who looked like a
hair-dresser and was suspected of carrying on a covert business as
dealer in antiquities; M. Dieudonne Crespigny de Bellancourt, a
square-built French diplomatist, the son of a butcher and son-in-law to
a duke, etc., etc. The latest bankruptcy, the climate of Rome, the
excavations, were all discussed. Madame de Gandry and Mrs. Ferguson
submitted at first to the tedium of a general conversation, but
contrived at the same time to attract as much of the men's attention as
was possible under the circumstances. Soon after eleven the Countess
Ilsenbergh came in; she had come from a grand dinner and looked bored
to death.
"It really is absurd how one meets every one in Rome," she said
presently, when she had been questioned as to the how and where of the
party she had just quitted. "Who do you think I came across to-day,
Marie?--That Lenz girl from Vienna; now she is a duchess or a Countess
Montidor--Heaven knows which; once, years ago, I had something to do
with a charity sale she got up, so now she comes up to me as if I were
an old acquaintance and pretends to be intimate, talks of 'we
Austrians,' and 'at home at Vienna.'--Amusing, rather?"
"Poor Fritzi! I feel for you!" exclaimed Sempaly with a malicious
laugh. "But there is a greater treat in store for you. The Sterzl
women, mother and sister, are coming in a few days."
"Indeed! that is pleasant certainly!"
"Why?" asked Madame de Gandry, throwing herself into the conversation.
"Are they objectionable people?"
"By no means," said the countess quickly. "I believe they are the most
respectable people in the world, but--it is a bore to be constantly
meeting people here whom one could not possibly recognize in Vienna.
You should give him a hint, Nicki--tell him--explain to him...."
"To be sure," said Sempaly laughing, "I might say: Look here, my good
friend, beware of taking your mother and sister out anywhere; my cousin
the countess would rather not meet them."
The countess shrugged her shoulders and turned away from her flippant
interlocutor, tapping her fan impatiently. "Do you mean to receive them
Marie?" she asked.
"Whom do I not receive?" said the princess in an undertone, with a
significant glance.
"Well I cannot--decidedly not," said the countess excitedly, "though I
shall be grieved to annoy Sterzl. It will be his own fault entirely if
he forces me to explain myself."
"Do as you think proper," replied her friend, "but you know I am very
fond of Sterzl; he stands high in my good graces."
"What! _le Paysan du Danube_?" giggled Madame de Gandry, who had only
partly understood the conversation.
"Sterzl is a man of the highest respectability," said the countess
icily; she did not intend to allow that little French woman to laugh at
her fellow-countryman, though he was not a man of birth.
"_Le Paysan du Danube_ is my particular friend," said the princess with
the simple heartiness that was so peculiarly her own. "I am very fond
of him; he is quite one of ourselves."
"He can have no higher reward on earth," said her brother with
good-humored irony.
"When my small boy fell and broke his arm, here in this very room,
Sterzl picked him up, and you should have seen how gently he held my
poor darling," added the princess.
"That is ample evidence in favor of the fact that his woman-kind are
presentable," laughed Sempaly.
"But allow me to ask," interposed the Madame de Gandry, "just that I
may understand what I am about--these Sterzls, they are not in good
society in Austria?"
"Our Austrian etiquette can afford no standpoint for foreign society,"
said Truyn with unusual sharpness, for he could not endure Madame de
Gandry; "we receive no one who is not by birth one of ourselves."
"Yes," said Sempaly with a keen glance, "Austrian society is as
exclusive as the House of Israel, and scorns proselytes." And the
leather-seller's daughter, who had not understood--or not chosen to
understand Truyn's speech, replied with much presence of mind: "Ah, I
am glad to know what I am about."
Siegburg, who was sitting behind her, glanced at Sempaly and made an
expressive grimace.
Princess Vulpini looked almost spiteful. "I will not leave Sterzl in
the lurch," she said, "and if his sister is like his description of
her...."
"He has talked to you about his sister?" interrupted Sempaly.
"To be sure," said the princess with a smile, "and to you too, I should
not wonder, Nicki?"
"No indeed, he does not show me his sacred places, I am not worthy,"
replied Sempaly. "He only told me that she was coming, and with a very
singular smile. Hm, Hm! he seems to set great store by the young lady
and will no doubt look out for a fine match for her. I should not
wonder if he had got her here for that express purpose. Norina, take
care of yourself--forewarned you know...."
"Mademoiselle Sterzl will hardly aspire to a prince's crown!" exclaimed
Madame de Gandry, up in arms to defend her property.
"Sterzl will not let his sister go for less," asserted Sempaly.
"Do not talk such nonsense," said Truyn, to check Sempaly's audacity.
But Sempaly was leaning over a table and scribbling on the back of an
old letter; presently he handed the half sheet to the Countess
Ilsenbergh; Madame de Gandry peeped over her shoulder.
"Capital!" she exclaimed, "delicious!" Sempaly had sketched Sterzl as
an auctioneer, the hammer in one hand and a fashionably-dressed doll in
the other, with all the Princes in Rome crowded round. In one corner he
had written: "This lot--Fraeulein Sterzl--once, twice, thrice...."
The sketch was handed round; the likeness of Sterzl was unmistakable.
Soon after the Countess Ilsenbergh went away, and as the company were
not in the best of humors the two friends also withdrew shortly after
midnight followed by those gentlemen who had come in their train.
"Fritzi is really a victim to an _idee fixe_," the princess began when
this indiscreet group had departed; "she wants me to entrench myself in
dignified reserve against this poor little thing. What harm can the
child do me?"
"I cannot imagine," said Siegburg; "indeed, if she is pretty and has
some money, it strikes me I will marry her myself--that will set
matters straight" Siegburg was fond of talking of the money that his
wife must bring him, and liked to air the selfishness of which he was
innocent, as very rich folks sometimes make a parade of poverty.
"And it was really very stupid of Fritzi to ventilate this idiotic
nonsense before those two women," added the princess, who was apt to
express herself strongly; but nothing that she said ever sounded badly,
on the contrary, she lent a grace to whatever she said. "Does she think
she can make me turn exclusive!"
"I hope you observed how that pinchbeck countess was prepared to tread
in her footsteps," said Seigburg.
Truyn meanwhile was hunting eagerly about the chimney-shelf and the
tables, assisted by the master of the house.
"What are you looking for, Erich?" asked his sister.
"For that sketch of Sempaly's. I should not like to leave the thing
about. Excuse me, Nicki, the caricature was capital, I have nothing to
say against it, if it had only been among ourselves; but you really
ought not to have shown it to strangers. You are so heedless, you do
not think of what you are doing."
"And what have I done now?" asked Sempaly without any trace of
annoyance.
"You have simply stamped this young girl as an adventuress on the
look-out for a husband."
"Pooh! as if so trifling a jest could be taken in earnest!" said
Sempaly. They searched everywhere for the caricature but in vain.
"I am convinced that wretched woman put it in her pocket!" cried the
princess indignantly. That wretched woman was of course Madame de
Gandry.
* * *
It was true that Princess Vulpini was very fond of Sterzl, and he
returned her regard with almost rapturous devotion. In spite of an
unpolished and absent manner he had a vein of poetic chivalry and a
pure reverence for true and lofty womanhood. He could not think it
worth his while to offer to any woman that flattery--often impertinent
enough in reality--that gratifies some of the sex, and he had never
learnt the A B C of modern gallantry; but in his intercourse with those
whom he spoke of as "true women" there was a touch of chivalrous
protection and reserved deference. His behavior to them was so full of
an old-fashioned courtesy that he was certain to win their favor; he
treated them partly like children that must be cared for, and partly
like sacred beings before whom we must bow the knee.
Immediately on his arrival in Rome the princess found great pleasure in
their acquaintance, she confided to him all her little indignation at
this or that grievance in Rome, and allowed him to take a variety of
small cares off her shoulders, being, as all women of her soft nature
are, very fastidious and utterly unpractical.
There had been few sweeter girls in the Vienna world than the Countess
Marie Truyn in her day, and there was not now in all Rome a more
lovable woman than the Princess Vulpini. When in the afternoons she
drove out in her open carriage, with her four or five children that
looked as though they had been stolen straight out of one of Kate
Greenaway's picture books, along the Corso to the Villa Borghese, her
fashionable acquaintance, who had brought out their most recent or most
fashionable bosom-friend instead of their children, would exclaim:
"Here comes true happiness!" And the men bowed to her with particular
respect, eager to win the friendly and gracious smile that warmed all
hearts like a ray of spring sunshine. She had never been a regular
beauty and had early lost her youthful freshness and the slim figure
that had been almost proverbial. Nevertheless her charm was
undiminished; her chief ornament, a wonderful abundance of bright brown
hair, was as fine as ever and she wore it still, as when a girl of
sixteen, simply combed back and gathered into a knot low down at the
back. In spite of her faded complexion there was a childlike sweetness
in her small round face, with its kind little eyes, its delicate
turned-up nose, and soft lips that had no beauty till they smiled. All
her movements were simple and graceful and her whole appearance
conveyed the impression of exquisite refinement and the loftiest
womanliness. Her dress was apt to be a little out of fashion, the
latest _chic_ never suited her. She was a great reader, even of very
solid books, especially affecting natural science; but she retained
nevertheless the literal faith of her infancy, and this innocent
orthodoxy was part and parcel of the simple fervency of her character.
Sempaly, who was sincerely attached to her, always spoke of her devout
piety as one of her most engaging qualities; he declared that a woman
to be truly sympathetic must be religious; that a man may allow himself
to profess free thought, but that a sceptical woman was as odious as a
woman with a hump. To this observation, which Sempaly once threw out in
the presence of Sterzl, Cecil took great exception, though he himself
was as devoid of religious beliefs as Sempaly himself; he thought it
impertinent.
"Men do not jest about the women whose names are sacred to them," he
said with the pedantic chivalry, which always provoked his colleague's
opposition. However, Sempaly only retorted with a sneering smile and a
shrug.