Alathea looked perfectly lovely when she came into the salon dressed for
dinner. It is the first time I have seen her in anything pertaining to
the evening. She had a gauzy tea-gown on, of a shade of blue like her
eyes. Her nut brown hair was beautifully done, with the last "look" like
Coralie's, showing her tiny head. Whether she likes it or no, I must
give her some pearl earrings, and my mother's pearls. That will be a
moment! But I had better wait a little while. Her eyes were shining with
excitement or resentment, or a mixture of both. She was purely feminine.
She intended to attract me I am certain, her subconscious mind did at
all events, even though she would not have admitted it to herself. She
was smarting still about Suzette. The situation fills her with distrust
and uneasiness, but I know now, after analysing every point, when I
could not sleep last night, that she is not really indifferent to me.
And it is because she is not, that she is angry.
I registered a vow that I would _make_ her love me without explaining
about Suzette, fate can let her find out for herself.
I had not come to the comforting conclusion that she is not indifferent
at the beginning of the evening though, so the sense of self-confidence
and triumph did not uplift me then. I was still worried at the events
of the afternoon.
I had troubled to put on a tail coat and white waistcoat, not a dinner
jacket as usual, and had even a buttonhole of a gardenia, found by
Burton for this great occasion!
I looked into her eyes with my one blue one, which is I suppose, as blue
as her own. She instantly averted her glance.
"I cannot offer you my arm, milady," I said rather sarcastically, "So we
will have to go in after each other."
She bowed and led the way.
The table was too beautifully decorated, and the dinner a masterpiece!
while the champagne was iced to perfection, and the Burgundy a poem! The
pupils of Alathea's eyes before the partridge came, were black as night.
Burton discreetly marshalled Antoine out of the room each time after the
dishes were handed.
"When will you get your new eye?" my wife--I like to write that!--asked
in the first interval when we were alone, "and your new leg?"
"I suppose they will both be restored to me in a day or two. It will be
so wonderful to walk again."
"I should think so."
Then something seemed to strike her suddenly, of how hateful it must all
have been for me. Her hard expression changed and she almost whispered:
"It--will seem like a new life."
"I mean to make a new life, if you will help me. I want to get away from
all the old useless days. I want to do things which are worth while."
"Shall you soon go into Parliament?"
"I suppose it will take a year or two, but we shall begin to pave the
way directly we go back to England, and I hope that will be for
Christmas."
She avoided looking at me. I could never catch her eye, but her adorable
little profile was good enough to contemplate, the crisp curl by her ear
delighted me, and another in the nape of her neck filled me with wild
longings to kiss it, and the pearly skin beneath it!
I think I deserve great praise for the way I acted, for the whole thing
was acting. I was cold, and as haughty and aloof as she was herself, but
I used every art I knew of to draw her out and make her talk.
She is such a lady that she fell into the stride and spoke politely as
if to some stranger who had taken her into dinner at a party.
At last we talked of the Duchesse, and we discussed her interesting
character, such a marvel of the _ancien régime_!
"She is so very good and charitable," Alathea said, "and has always a
twinkle in her eye which carries her through things."
"You laugh sometimes, too?" I asked with assumed surprise. "That is
delightful! I adore the 'twinkle in the eye,' but I was afraid you would
never unbend far enough so that we could laugh together!"