The Princess helped herself to a salted almond and took her first sip
of champagne. The almonds were crisp and the champagne dry. She was
wearing a new and most successful dinner-gown of black velvet, and she
was quite sure that in the subdued light no one could tell that the
pearls in the collar around her neck were imitation. Her afternoon's
indisposition was quite forgotten. She nodded at her host approvingly.
"Cecil," she said, "it is really very good of you to take in my two
friends like this. Major Forrest has just arrived from Ostend, and I
was very anxious to hear about the people I know there, and the frocks,
and all the rest of it. Lord Ronald always amuses me, too. I suppose
most people would call him foolish, but to me he only seems very, very
young."
The young man who was host raised his glass and bowed towards the
Princess.
"I can assure you," he said, "that it has given me a great deal of
pleasure to make the acquaintance of Major Forrest and Lord Ronald, but
it has given me more pleasure still to be able to do anything for you.
You know that."
She looked at him quickly, and down at her plate. Such glances had
become almost a habit with her, but they were still effectual. Cecil de
la Borne leaned across towards Forrest.
"I hear that you have been to Ostend lately, Major Forrest," he said.
"I thought of going over myself a little later in the season for a few
days."
"I wouldn't if I were you," Forrest answered. "It is overrun just now
with the wrong sort of people. There is nothing to do but gamble, which
doesn't interest me particularly; or dress in a ridiculous costume and
paddle about in a few feet of water, which appeals to me even less."
"You were there a little early in the season," the Princess reminded
him.
Major Forrest assented.
"A little later," he admitted, "it may be tolerable. On the whole,
however, I was disappointed."
Lord Ronald spoke for the first time. He was very thin, very long, and
very tall. He wore a somewhat unusually high collar, but he was very
carefully, not to say exactly, dressed. His studs and links and
waistcoat buttons were obviously fresh from the Rue de la Paix. The set
of his tie was perfection. His features were not unintelligent, but his
mouth was weak.
"One thing I noticed about Ostend," he remarked, "they charge you a
frightful price for everything. We never got a glass of champagne there
like this."
"I am glad you like it," their host said. "From what you say I don't
imagine that I should care for Ostend. I am not rich enough to gamble,
and as I have lived by the sea all my days, bathing does not attract me
particularly. I think I shall stay at home."
"By the by, where is your home, Mr. De la Borne?" the Princess asked.
"You told me once, but I have forgotten. Some of your English names are
so queer that I cannot even pronounce them, much more remember them."
"I live in a very small village in Norfolk, called Salthouse," Cecil de
la Borne answered. "It is quite close to a small market-town called
Wells, if you know where that is. I don't suppose you do, though," he
added. "It is an out-of-the-way corner of the world."
The Princess shook her head.
"I never heard of it," she said. "I am going to motor through Norfolk
soon, though, and I think that I shall call upon you."
Cecil de la Borne looked up eagerly.
"I wish you would," he begged, "and bring your step-daughter. You can't
imagine," he added, with a glance at the girl who was sitting at his
left hand, "how much pleasure it would give me. The roads are really
not bad, and every one admits that the country is delightful."
"You had better be careful," the Princess said, "or we may take you at
your word. I warn you, though, that it would be a regular invasion.
Major Forrest and Lord Ronald are talking about coming with us."
"It's just an idea," Forrest remarked carelessly. "I wouldn't mind it
myself, but I don't fancy we should get Engleton away from town before
Goodwood."
"Well, I like that," Engleton remarked. "Forrest's a lot keener on
these social functions than I am. As a matter of fact I am for the
tour, on one condition."
"And that?" the Princess asked.
"That you come in my car," Lord Ronald answered. "I haven't really had
a chance to try it yet, but it's a sixty horse Mercedes, and it's
fitted up for touring. Take the lot of us easy, luggage and everything."
"I think it would be perfectly delightful," the Princess declared. "Do
you really mean it?"
"Of course I do," Lord Ronald answered. "It's too hot for town, and I'm
rather great on rusticating, myself."
"I think this is charming," the Princess declared. "Here we have one of
our friends with a car and another with a house. But seriously, Cecil,
we mustn't think of coming to you. There would be too many of us."
"The more the better," Cecil said eagerly. "If you really want to
attempt anything in the shape of a rest-cure, I can recommend my home
thoroughly. I am afraid," he added, with a shrug of the shoulders,
"that I cannot recommend it for anything else."
"A rest," the Princess declared, "is exactly what we want. Life here is
becoming altogether too strenuous. We started the season a little
early. I am perfectly certain that we could not possibly last till the
end. Until I arrived in London with an heiress under my charge, I had
no idea that I was such a popular person."
The girl who was sitting on the other side of their host spoke almost
for the first time. She was evidently quite young, and her pale cheeks,
dark full eyes, and occasional gestures, indicated clearly enough
something foreign in her nationality. She addressed no one in
particular, but she looked toward Forrest.
"That is one of the things," she said, "which puzzles me. I do not
understand it at all. It seems as though every one is liked or
disliked, here in London at any rate, according to the amount of money
they have."
"Upon my word, Miss Jeanne, it isn't so with every one," Lord Ronald
interposed hastily.
She glanced at him indifferently.
"There may be exceptions," she said. "I am speaking of the great
number."
"For Heaven's sake, child, don't be cynical!" the Princess remarked.
"There is no worse pose for a child of your age."
"It is not a pose at all," Jeanne answered calmly. "I do not want to be
cynical, and I do not want to have unkind thoughts. But tell me, Lord
Ronald, honestly, do you think that every one would have been as kind
to a girl just out of boarding-school as they have been to me if it
were not that I have so much money?"
"I cannot tell about others," Lord Ronald answered. "I can only answer
for myself."
His last words were almost whispered in the girl's ears, but she only
shrugged her shoulders and did not return his gaze. Their host, who had
been watching them, frowned slightly. He was beginning to think that
Engleton was scarcely as pleasant a fellow as he had thought him.
"Well," he said, "Miss Le Mesurier will find out in time who are really
her friends."
"It is a safe plan," Major Forrest remarked, "and a pleasant one, to
believe in everybody until they want something from you. Then is the
time for distrust."
Jeanne sighed.
"And by that time, perhaps," she said, "one's affections are hopelessly
engaged. I think that it is a very difficult world."
The Princess shrugged her shoulders.
"Three months," she remarked, "is not a long time. Wait, my dear child,
until you have at least lived through a single season before you commit
yourself to any final opinions."
Their host intervened. He was beginning to find the conversation dull.
He was far more interested in another matter.
"Let us talk about that visit," he said to the Princess. "I do wish
that you could make up your mind to come. Of course, I haven't any
amusements to offer you, but you could rest as thoroughly as you like.
They say that the air is the finest in England. There is always bridge,
you know, for the evenings, and if Miss Jeanne likes bathing, my
gardens go down to the beach."
"It sounds delightful," the Princess said, "and exactly what we want.
We have a good many invitations, but I have not cared to accept any of
them, for I do not think that Jeanne would care much for the life at an
ordinary country house. I myself," she continued, with perfect truth,
"am not squeamish, but the last house-party I was at was certainly not
the place for a very young girl."
"Make up your mind, then, and say yes," Cecil de la Borne pleaded.
"You shall hear from us within the next few days," the Princess
answered. "I really believe that we shall come."
The little party left the restaurant a few minutes later on their way
into the foyer for coffee. The Princess contrived to pass out with
Forrest as her companion.
"I think," she said under her breath, "that this is the best
opportunity you could possibly have. We shall be quite alone down
there, and perhaps it would be as well that you were out of London for
a few weeks. If it does not come to anything we can easily make an
excuse to get away."
Forrest nodded.
"But who is this young man, De la Borne?" he asked. "I don't mean that.
I know who he is, of course, but why should he invite perfect strangers
to stay with him?"
The Princess smiled faintly.
"Can't you see," she answered, "that he is simply a silly boy? He is
only twenty-four years old, and I think that he cannot have seen much
of the world. He told me that he had just been abroad for the first
time. He fancies that he is a little in love with me, and he is
dazzled, of course, by the idea of Jeanne's fortune. He wants to play
the host to us. Let him. I should be glad enough to get away for a few
weeks, if only to escape from these pestering letters. I do think that
one's tradespeople might let one alone until the end of the season."
Forrest, who was feeling a good deal braver since dinner, on the whole
favoured the idea.
"I do not see," he remarked, "why it should not work out very well
indeed. There will be nothing to do in the evenings except to play
bridge, and no one to interfere."
"Besides which," the Princess remarked, "you will be out of London for
a few weeks, and I dare say that if you keep away from the clubs for a
time and lose a few rubbers when you get back your little trouble may
blow over."
"I suppose," Forrest remarked thoughtfully, "this young De la Borne has
no people living with him, guardians, or that sort of thing?"
"No one of any account," the Princess answered. "His father and mother
are both dead. I am afraid, though, he will not be of any use to you,
for from what I can hear he is quite poor. However, Engleton ought to
be quite enough if we can keep him in the humour for playing."
"Ask him a few more questions about the place," Forrest said. "If it
seems all right, I should like to start as soon as possible."
They had their coffee at a little table in the foyer, which was already
crowded with people. Their conversation was often interrupted by the
salutations of passing acquaintances. Jeanne alone looked about her
with any interest. To the others, this sort of thing--the music of the
red-coated band, the flowers, and the passing throngs of people, the
handsomest and the weariest crowd in the world--were only part of the
treadmill of life.
"By the by, Mr. De la Borne," the Princess asked, "how much longer are
you going to stay in London?"
"I must go back to-morrow or the next day," the young man answered, a
little gloomily. "I sha'n't mind it half so much if you people only
make up your minds to pay me that visit."
The Princess motioned to him to draw his chair a little nearer to hers.
"If we take this tour at all," she remarked, "I should like to start
the day after to-morrow. There is a perfectly hideous function on
Thursday which I should so like to miss, and the stupidest dinner-party
on earth at night. Should you be home by then, do you think?"
"If there were any chance of your coming at all," the young man
answered eagerly, "I should leave by the first train to-morrow morning."
"I think," the Princess declared softly, "that we will come. Don't
think me rude if I say that we could not possibly be more bored than we
are in London. I do not want to take Jeanne to any of the country
house-parties we have been invited to. You know why. She really is such
a child, and I am afraid that if she gets any wrong ideas about things
she may want to go back to the convent. She has hinted at it more than
once already."
"There will be nothing of that sort at Salt-house," Cecil de la Borne
declared eagerly. "You see, I sha'n't have any guests at all except
just yourselves. Don't you think that would be best?"
"I do, indeed," the Princess assented, "and mind, you are not to make
any special preparations for us. For my part, I simply want a little
rest before we go abroad again, and we really want to come to you
feeling the same way that one leaves one's home for lodgings in a
farmhouse. You will understand this, won't you, Cecil?" she added
earnestly, laying her fingers upon his arm, "or we shall not come."
"It shall be just as you say," he answered. "As a matter of fact the
Red Hall is little more than a large farmhouse, and there is very
little preparation which I could make for you in a day or a day and a
half. You shall come and see how a poor English countryman lives, whose
lands and income have shrivelled up together. If you are dull you will
not blame me, I know, for all that you have to do is to go away."
The Princess rose and put out her hand.
"It is settled, then," she declared. "Thank you, dear Mr. Host, for
your very delightful dinner. Jeanne and I have to go on to Harlingham
House for an hour or two, the last of these terrible entertainments, I
am glad to say. Do send me a note round in the morning, with the exact
name of your house, and some idea of the road we must follow, so that
we do not get lost. I suppose you two," she added, turning to Forrest
and Lord Ronald, "will not mind starting a day or two before we had
planned?"
"Not in the least," they assured her.
"And Miss Le Mesurier?" Cecil de la Borne asked. "Will she really not
mind giving up some of these wonderful entertainments?"
Jeanne smiled upon him brilliantly. It was a smile which came so
seldom, and which, when it did come, transformed her face so utterly,
that she seemed like a different person.
"I shall be very glad, indeed," she said, "to leave London. I am
looking forward so much to seeing what the English country is like."
"It will make me very happy," Cecil de la Borne said, bowing over her
hand, "to try and show you."
Her eyes seemed to pass through him, to look out of the crowded room,
as though indeed they had found their way into some corner of the world
where the things which make life lie. It was a lapse from which she
recovered almost immediately, but when she looked at him, and with a
little farewell nod withdrew her hand, the transforming gleam had
passed away.
"And there is the sea, too," she remarked, looking backwards as they
passed out. "I am longing to see that again."