"May I come and inquire about you all to-morrow?" I asked.
"It will be very kind of you,"--she answered quietly.
"Shall I see you if I come?" I said in a lower tone.
"If you wish it,--certainly!"
Our eyes met; and I knew by instinct that she read my thoughts. I
pressed her hand again and was not repulsed,--then bowing profoundly, I
left her to make my adieux to Lord Elton and Miss Chesney, who seemed
terribly upset and frightened. Miss Charlotte Fitzroy had left the room
in attendance on her sister, and she did not return to bid us
good-night. Rimânez lingered a moment behind me to say another word or
two to the Earl, and when he joined me in the hall and threw on his
opera-coat, he was smiling to himself somewhat singularly.
"An unpleasant end for Helena, Countess of Elton"--he said, when we were
in our brougham, driving away--"Paralysis is perhaps the worst of all
the physical punishments that can befall a 'rapid' lady."
"Was she 'rapid'?"
"Well,--perhaps 'rapid' is too mild a term, but I can find no
other;"--he answered--"When she was young,--she is barely fifty
now,--she did everything that could be done by woman at her worst and
wildest. She had scores of lovers,--and I believe one of them cleared
off her husband's turf-debts,--the Earl consenting gladly,--on a rather
pressing occasion."
"What disgraceful conduct!" I exclaimed.
He looked at me with an expression of cynical amusement.
"Think so? The 'upper ten' quite condone that sort of thing in their own
set now-a-days. It is all right. If a lady has lovers, and her husband
beams benevolence on the situation what can be said? Nothing. How very
tender your conscience is, Geoffrey!"
I sat silent, thinking. My companion lit a cigarette and offered me one.
I took it mechanically without lighting it.
"I made a mistake this evening,"--he went on--"I should not have sung
that 'Last Love-song.' The fact is, the words were written by one of her
ladyship's former admirers, a man who was something of a poet in his
way,--and she had an idea that she was the only person living who had
ever seen the lines. She wanted to know if I knew the man who composed
them, and I was able to say that I did--very intimately. I was just
explaining how it was, and why I knew him so well, when the distressing
attack of convulsions came on, and finished our conversation."
"She looked horrible!" I said.
"The paralysed Helen of a modern Troy? Yes,--her countenance at the last
was certainly not attractive. Beauty combined with wantonness
frequently ends in the drawn twitch, fixed eye and helpless limbs of
life-in-death. It is Nature's revenge on the outraged body,--and do you
know, Eternity's revenge on the impure Soul is extremely similar?"
"What do you know about it?" I said, smiling in spite of myself as I
looked at his fine face, expressive of perfect health and splendid
intellectuality--"Your absurd fancies about the soul are the only traces
of folly I discover in you."
"Really? Well I am glad I have something of the fool in my
disposition,--foolishness being the only quality that makes wisdom
possible. I confess I have odd, very odd notions about the soul."
"I will excuse them--" I said, laughing--God forgive me, in my own
insensate blind conceit,--the while he regarded me fixedly--"In fact I
will excuse anything for the sake of your voice. I do not flatter you,
Lucio,--you sing like an angel."
"Don't use impossible comparisons;"--he replied--"Have you ever heard an
angel sing?"
"Yes!" I answered smiling--"I have,--this very night!"
He turned deadly pale.
"A very open compliment!" he said, forcing a laugh,--and with almost
rough haste, he suddenly let down the window of the carriage though the
night was bitter cold--"This vehicle is suffocating me,--let us have
some air. See how the stars are shining!--like great crown
jewels--Deity's regalia! Hard frost, like hard times, brings noble works
into prominence. Yonder, far off, is a star you can hardly perceive; red
as a cinder at times and again blue as the lightning,--I can always
discover it, though many cannot. It is Algol,--judged by superstitious
folk to be an evil star. I love it chiefly on account of its bad
reputation,--it is no doubt much maligned. It may be a cold quarter of
hell where weeping spirits sit frozen in ice made of their own congealed
tears,--or it may be a preparatory school for Heaven--who knows! Yonder
too, shines Venus,--your star Geoffrey!--for you are in love my
friend!--come confess it! are you not?"
"I am not sure;"--I answered slowly--"The phrase 'in love' scarcely
describes my present feeling...."
"You have dropped these,"--he said suddenly, picking up a fast fading
knot of violets from the floor of the brougham and holding them towards
me. He smiled, as I uttered an exclamation of annoyance. They were Lady
Sibyl's flowers which I had inadvertently let fall, and I saw he knew
it. I took them from his hand in silence.
"My dear fellow, do not try to hide your intentions from your best
friend,"--he said seriously and kindly--"You wish to marry the Earl of
Elton's beautiful daughter, and you shall. Trust me!--I will do
everything I can to promote your desire."
"You will?" I exclaimed with unconcealed delight, for I fully recognised
the influence he had over Sibyl's father.
"I will, I promise--" he answered gravely--"I assure you that such a
marriage would be one after my own heart. I'll do all I can for
you,--and I have made many matches in my time!"
My heart beat high with triumph,--and when we parted that night I wrung
his hand fervently and told him I was devoutly grateful to the fates for
sending me such a good friend as he was.
"Grateful to--whom did you say?" he asked with a whimsical look.
"To the Fates!"
"Are you really? They are very ugly sisters I believe. Perhaps they were
your ghostly visitors of last night!"
"God forbid!" I ejaculated.
"Ah! God never forbids the fulfilment of His own laws!" he answered--"To
do so He would have to destroy Himself."
"If He exists at all!" I said carelessly.
"True! If--!"