"There'll be a chance for me."
"No, no! You're too much of a general lover, Billy."
"Girls do run a man so hard, nowadays," observed Billy, pathetically.
"It was different in your youth, no doubt. But I am not a girl, and quite old enough to box the ears of conceited urchins."
"Do!--if you'll let me give you a kiss for a blow."
"What precocious Christianity! You had better apply to that pretty American girl near the Casino door."
"Miss Mamie Mulrady? Oh, I can get her kisses without fightin'. Not bad-lookin', is she? Lots of tin, an' as spry as they make 'em. There's th' little mother an' that rotter chippin' into th' Casino. Shall we follow, Lady Jim?"
They were stopped on the steps by Miss Mulrady, "who knew both, and claimed acquaintance through a wholly unnecessary lorgnette. She was a vivacious Wild West product, who exaggerated the vernacular, because Europeans expected to find the Californian girl of fiction in real life. Her exaggerated slang was assumed out of sheer amusement, and she greatly enjoyed the amazed looks of those who heard her talk good Anglo-Saxon, which she did, when she escaped from fools to forgather with wise men.
"How are you, Miss Mulrady?" asked Billy solemnly.
"Keepin' afloat, I guess, but that's about all. The dollars I've lost buckin' the tiger would have bought me a dozen husbands."
"Foreign ones are cheap, I believe," said Leah, admiring the prairie-flower's Paris frock more than her republican manner.
"You make me smile. I'm goin' to run tandem with Sir Billy here--me first and he the wheeler."
"No go," said the boy, quite able to hold his own. "I'm not goin' to marry a Bret Harte girl."
"Oh, do," replied Miss Mulrady, in the purest of English, and placing two small gloved hands together. "I'll be a wife and a mother in one."
"What economy!" smiled Lady Jim. "Are you coming into the 'devil's parlour'?"
"Later. I'm waiting for Mr. Askew."
Leah started. She thought that Askew was safe in Shropshire, making attempts to civilise the fixture. "Harry Askew?"
"That's so," assented Miss Mulrady, relapsing into her Wild West vocabulary, and with a keen look. "He called on Mommo an' me, when he was cruisin' out 'Frisco way. We're negotiatin' a system to break this old bank."
"You evidently wish to be popularised in a song," said Lady Jim, languidly. "How long has Mr. Askew been devoting his energies to such things?" This with an angry reflection that he had not called on her.
"You might reckon it twenty-four hours," said the American, admiring her pointed brown shoe. "He's here for his health."
"I've heard that excuse before, with regard to Monte Carlo."
"Shouldn't wonder. We ticket our sins best sugar. Sir Billy, come along an' buy me candy at the stores."
"But your man, Miss Mulrady--the Askew chap?"
"Lady Jim an' I 'ull swap humans. What say?" and she looked at Leah, mischievously overdoing the slang.
"I never swap what isn't my own property," answered Lady Jim, considering this offer too Western, and resenting the familiarity to the extent of walking into the Casino with her head very much in the air. America could hold her own with the mother-country, and Leah did not approve.
"She wants to be the whole show an' the box-office," murmured Mamie, mischievously. "Stay here, Bub."
"I am sorry to refuse a lady," replied Billy, resenting the word; "but I've put my money on Lady Jim, this trip."
"On the red--hair, you mean. Go bye-bye with your nurse, then. Here's Mr. Askew, he's older than you."
"And easier to please," snapped the youth, much offended. "You'll excuse me, Miss Mulrady, but a man can't keep a woman waitin'."
He retired into what Lady Jim called the "devil's parlour" with a Floreat Etona air, and Miss Mulrady, after a glance at the ears which she longed to box soundly, turned to receive a breathless apology from the belated Askew.
"There's a friend of yours gone in to sin for an hour," said she, when a treaty was concluded.
"I have so many friends--so-called."
"Of the high-toned gilt-edged sort, with red scalps?"
Askew comprehended in a second. "Lady Jim," he stammered; "yes, I heard that she was at San Remo. What's she doing here?"
"Visitin' the sick an' the poor," said Mamie, shrewdly. "It's what folks come to Monte for. Guess, she best drop in on you--a sicker man I never saw, an' you'll be poor enough by th' time we're through with this old system of yours. I know a bank where th' wild time goes. You may look all through Bacon without findin' that remark--it's my own. Let's get."
Thus, with barbaric japes, did the child of nature lead her companion into the gilded halls of iniquity, and the two jostled the well-dressed crowd which circulated round the tables. The silence was that of an arctic night, save for the droning voices of the croupiers, and at times a hurried whisper of joy or dismay.
"Goin' in for rouge et noir with Lady Jim?" asked Miss Mulrady, alluding to the hair of Askew and his friend; "or perhaps she's sportin' on trente et quarante, to suit her years."
"She's under thirty," growled Askew, crossly.
"An' you're under the weather, considerable," retorted the American, sharply. "Get up steam an' fizzle a bit, can't you?"
"Shall I war-whoop, or dance a horn-pipe?"
"Neither I prefer originality."
"Try the system, then;" and Askew pushed his way through the Mammon-worshippers to where the roulette ball wheeled its fatal round.
Lady Jim did not play. She had stupidly forgotten her peacock's feather and could not risk loss with her small capital. But Billy, having the audacity and luck of innocence, was at hand, so she gave him five hundred francs to experiment.
"We'll halve the winnings."
"Never take money from a woman," said Billy, gravely; "but I don't mind a fly. Got any sportin' number?"
"Thirteen, because that's your age. There is Mademoiselle Aksakoff, I wish to speak to her;" and she moved gracefully towards the tall, pale girl, while Young Iniquity, with the air of a Vanderbilt, planked her money on the odd number.
Katinka Aksakoff grew crimson when Lady Jim saluted her, and would have evaded the meeting if possible. She might have been a nun from the looks of her, and was garbed in unrelieved black, which Leah concluded was mourning for unrequited affection. After that fleeting wave of colour, her thin, oval face grew marble white, and a pair of dark questioning eyes appeared twice as large and three times as brilliant as they had been before resting on Lady Jim's gracious smile.
"So glad to meet you," murmured Leah, as they shook hands in the air. "Lady Richardson and I have come to tea. Where is your father?"
"He is talking with the German ambassador," replied Katinka, without a smile, and with Siberian coldness.
"So fortunate. We can chat without interruption."
"I scarcely think we have much to chat about."
"Oh yes," rejoined Lady Jim, with perfect good-humour. "When you learn how you misjudge me, we shall get on capitally."
"Pardon. I do not understand."
"Probably not, since I have yet to make my explanation. Let us walk on the terrace, and you can throw me over, to where they shoot the pigeons, if my conversation displeases you."
"Ah, but it is so strange!"
"And so necessary--to your peace of mind."
"No!" Mademoiselle Aksakoff's face grew scarlet once more, and she pressed her hand to her heart, as though she felt there a cruel pain. Perhaps she did, poor soul! But the stoicism of the Slav enabled her to summon up a wry smile, and to bow her head, as she followed her brilliant rival. With the excess of an ill-governed, passionate heart did she hate this woman; but as a Niobe, frozen and cold, did she appear when they were pacing the terrace. And not one single word of her companion's sugared speech was she prepared to believe.
Leah's eyes rested appreciatively on the varied beauty of God's work and man's improvements. The huddled white houses of Monaco crowned its giant rock, which bulked hugely against the blended azure of sea and sky. The placid waters ringed its base with foam, and stretched with sparks and dashes of fire towards an immeasurable horizon. Landward bunched the red roofs of the town, below arid and precipitous heights, soaring massively into the radiant and ever-deepening blue. A balmy wind, like some invisible alchemist, changed the sombre green of the olive-groves to patches of glittering silver. Near at hand spread the lustrous foliage of lemon- and orange-trees, nor was wanting the almond-blossom of the far east. They walked under palms suggestive of Bedouin life, and, to the well-read, of Heine's sad little song, immortal and heart-rendingly true. Roses and violets, and flowers of many shapes and hues, bordered the terrace; the wide sea laughed at their feet, and behind them rose the palatial structure of the Casino, gorgeous as the Golden House of Nero. It was Fairyland, and Lady Jim said so to her sad companion, who was too blinded by love to see beauty anywhere when the beloved was absent.
"We can talk in French, if you like," said Leah, after she had paid her tribute to nature.
"In English, I think," replied the Russian girl; "my father wishes me to speak only your tongue, while we remain in London, so that I may improve."
"You can't," answered Leah, genuinely complimentary. "Your accent is much better than a born English person; also your grammar, and your choice of words."
"We take the trouble to learn your language, whereas you English do not."
"We're too busy annexing the world to bother about philological lessons," said Lady Jim, remembering Heine's remark anent the Romans.
"Possibly," assented Katinka, with a chilling smile; "but, interesting as this conversation is, I do not see its necessity."
"Monsieur Demetrius," began Leah, abruptly, when Mademoiselle raised a protesting hand.
"We need not speak of him, madame."
"Why not? He is a mutual friend. I know you fancy----"
"I fancy nothing," interrupted the other, haughtily. "Words are not needed where he is concerned."
"But explanations are. You think that I love Demetrius!"
Katinka flushed painfully, and she put her hand suddenly to her throat.
"I forbid you to speak," she said, in a stifled voice.
"Nonsense. We are not in Russia, where people kneel down and say please. Besides, it is necessary for your peace of mind that you should hear what I have to say."
"You made that remark before, Lady James."
"True, and I make it again, to emphasise my meaning, though I hate repetition. Demetrius loves you."
"No, no! It is you who----"
"Pish! His heart is yours; his science mine."
"His science!" Mademoiselle Aksakoff looked surprised.
"What else do you think attracted me? I am an English cat, and I have no lovers. Do you remember La Fontaine's fable?"
"Lady James, be plain with me."
"I am trying to be. You think that I love Demetrius, and that he is devoted to me. It is not so."
Katinka winced. She did not like such plain speaking, and, moreover, doubted its truth. "If I could think so, I would----"
"Of course you can think so," said Lady Jim, amiably. "Demetrius is particularly clever in curing consumptive diseases. For that reason I conversed with him a great deal. My husband is very ill, and I wanted the doctor to cure him. If Demetrius thought that my liking for his society meant anything else, he is an egotist. My advice is, that you should procure his pardon and marry him."
"There are obstacles in the way."
"I am not one, I assure you."
"Are you speaking honestly?"
"I am!" and the eyes of the two women met. Katinka searched the hard blue orbs of the great lady with painful intensity, and Leah bore the scrutiny with the knowledge that her conduct had been, and always would be, perfectly correct. Had she been the least in love with the doctor, she would not have dared to submit to that probing, painful gaze. Women may deceive mere men; they cannot deceive one another, especially in affairs of the heart. When Katinka withdrew her eyes she was satisfied that Lady Jim cared nothing for Demetrius. Without explanation, she burst into rapid and wrathful speech, and Leah's feminine perspicacity enabled her to guess the unuttered preamble, which a man would have required to be put into words.
"Why then do you lure him to your feet?" cried the Russian girl, in a sharp, pained voice. "If you love him not, why torture him, and me? I know he loves you--I know--I know--oh yes, I know."
"You do not. His love for me--if it can be called so--is the mere passing fancy of a man for a woman who has been kind to him."
"Too kind," muttered Katinka, vengefully.
"Not at all. But men are so conceited that they think a woman's smile means a woman's love. You have a golden heart, yet you throw it into the greedy hands of this selfish egotist----"
"He is not that," gasped the girl.
"Yes, he is, and much worse. Demetrius possesses the selfishness of a woman and the vanity of a man."
"You reverse the proper order."
"No, I don't. Men are far vainer than women, and women more selfish than men. I'm selfish myself, therefore I am happy. You are one of those self-tormenting, self-denying angels, who make men what they are--vain, greedy, conceited, lord-of-creation beasts. And I insult the beasts by such a comparison."
"I thought you liked men."
"I use them, and I detest them," retorted Lady Jim, speaking more plainly than was her custom. "There are good men--I don't deny that, for I know one at least"--she was thinking of Lionel; "but the majority--ugh! God help the women like yourself, who give their hearts into the keeping of such animals!"
"You love your husband, surely."
"We all love our husbands--it's part of the Church Service to love them. Pah!--I am not here to talk of my marriage, but of yours. You know now that I don't care for Demetrius, and that I desired his help merely for my husband's sake."
"Yes. I have wronged you;" and Katinka put out her hand.
Lady Jim took it, rather softened. "You poor child, how foolish you are! Why not forget Demetrius?"
"I cannot."
"He is not worthy of you."
"Is he not?--ah, you don't know him."
Leah smiled grimly. "I know him much better than you do. However, if you insist upon putting him on an imaginary pedestal, there is no more to be said. Have you heard from him lately?"
Mademoiselle Aksakoff was now quite deceived, and looked upon Lady Jim as her dearest and best friend. "Last week I received a letter from Funchal," she said eagerly. "Yes; I wrote to him about the chances of his pardon----"
"Are there any chances?"
"Yes, yes; I assure you--yes. I have a cousin, high in favour with the Czar, who can procure an immediate pardon. But my father does not wish me to marry Demetrius----"
"Wise man," murmured Leah.
"And so there is some difficulty. Oh"--she clasped her hands--"if Constantine would only be guided by me! He comes of a rich family, and has the title of Prince----"
"So he told me."
"Ah, but did he say how he had parted from his family because of his advanced ideas? He gave up money and rank, and all that makes life pleasant, to labour among the poor peasants. Is that not noble?"
"So noble that I have difficulty in thinking M. Demetrius acted so."
"But he did--he did. And my father is angered because of this self-sacrifice. If Constantine would only return to the rank of life in which he was born, my father would permit me to marry him, and then the pardon would speedily be procured. But I plead in vain," she murmured, with hanging head "he will not listen."
"He may, when he returns," volunteered Lady Jim, kindly.
"But when will that be? If he goes to Jamaica----"
Leah turned suddenly white. "Why to Jamaica?" she asked sharply.
"He wrote that the Duke of Pentland had asked him to go there, to see after your husband. And you say that----"
"Yes, yes; but this patient Garth, who----"
Katinka looked surprised. "But have you not heard?"
"Heard? I have heard nothing. I do not correspond with M. Demetrius, my dear. It is now April, and he has been at Funchal since January, trying to heal that poor man. Has he----?"
"No," said Mademoiselle Aksakoff, quickly. "The man is dead."
"Garth dead?" Lady Jim sat down, with a gasp.
"Yes; so Demetrius wrote last week, and said he would go on to Jamaica at the Duke's request to see your husband. But you look quite ill."
"I hate to hear of deaths," said Lady Jim, viciously. She certainly spoke truly with regard to this particular death. In her mind lurked a dread lest Demetrius had assisted nature, after all.
Monsieur Aksakoff owned a toy villa, pleasantly placed amongst orange-groves and lemon-gardens, on the outskirts of Fools' Paradise. Hither, somewhere about the hour of five, trooped a gay party, of which Katinka was not the least merry. So unaccountable were her spirits, that the majority judged her to be what the Scotch aptly call "fey." Lady Jim, in the minority, knew better. A recollection of the recent interview explained the girl's dancing on a possible grave.
Leah had subjugated one of her own suspicious sex. This is a rare miracle; rarer still, it had been achieved by truth-telling. Certainly, with inevitable female reservation, Lady Jim had not told the whole truth and nothing but the truth; but then, her knowledge did not include the shibboleth of oath-taking. She did not love Demetrius--no avowal could have been more honest. Still, his medical acquirements had scarcely induced the flirtation which Katinka resented, and in saying so she swerved from the path of rectitude. Nevertheless, that ingenuous explanation of the illegal apron-string deceived Mademoiselle Aksakoff into believing that Truth had really been dragged, unclothed and impeccable, from her well.
The result may be guessed. From cold hostility, Katinka, ignorant of the golden mean, melted into warm friendship: the sadness of unrequited love was replaced by the allurements of hope, and the hitherto dreary unpeopled world became an Arcadia of magical beauty, through which there ever moved a possible bridegroom. The colour returned to her wan cheeks, the light to her dark eyes, and in place of a listless nun the astonished father beheld a dancing, laughing nymph. Clever as Aksakoff was, he failed to understand the why and the wherefore of this transformation. Being a diplomatist, he searched for the magician who had accomplished its wonders; being mere man, he naturally espied the obvious. The unexpected presence of Demetrius, as he concluded, was responsible for the breathing of life into this statue.
Lady Jim guessed his explanation, and was amused by his inquiring looks. She promised herself the pleasure of making things clear, in such a way as would compel confidences on his part. These might be useful in averting the wrath of Demetrius, when he came to know that his reward was withheld. And Leah was not unreasonable in anticipating trouble of the worst, seeing that the doctor had already loaded her with a portion of a debt which she did not intend to pay. Garth was dead. That part of the task had been accomplished. Now, Katinka informed her that Demetrius was bound for Jamaica. There he would arrange for the obliteration of Jim, and return with a substituted corpse to console the afflicted widow. The widow herself shivered at the prospect of being honest and tangibly grateful; and, since the possible was rapidly becoming the probable, began to consider means of evasion. But it was no easy matter to nullify the bond of a semi-oriental Shylock.
With a diplomatist, superadded to a father, for an ally, and with tricky Muscovite politics to play with, Lady Jim fancied that her end might be obtained. But, although she knew the goal, she could not see the most direct and least dangerous way to gain it. Her path was perplexing and perilous, so it was necessary to find a finger-post. She thought that Aksakoff might stand for such, since he would do much to neutralise the chance of his daughter's marriage with Demetrius. But to enlist him on her side, and in her schemes, required a private conference, and plainer speaking than Lady Jim approved of. However, as there was no opportunity of private speech for at least one hour, she had time to construct feasible plans.
Meanwhile, her silence over the teacups was remarkable in so lively a lady. Certainly, Garth might have died in the orthodox manner, as ample time had been given for his exit. On the other hand, Demetrius, eager for his reward, might have--but no; she could not bear to think of such a horror, and employed her will to deny the possibility. Nevertheless, strive as she would to banish the thought, it returned again and again, insistent and terrifying. No wonder Askew was moved to ask if she felt unwell, and no wonder she protested, with unnecessary emphasis, that she never felt better in her life.
"I am gathering instruction from the conversation of others," she assured him, when he urged smelling-salts.
"But you are so extraordinarily pale."
"I have parted with my colour to Mademoiselle Aksakoff. See, she blooms like an artificial rose."
"Why artificial? Her bloom is natural."
"And her spirits are forced. A hothouse is Nature's corset."
"I don't know what you mean," said Askew, bluntly; "you are a puzzle."
"Which is as much as to say that I am a woman. I wish you would cease personalities and refill my glass."
This sounded more bacchanalian than it was, for the glass contained nothing more destructive to the nerves than straw-coloured tea, prepared, milkless, in the Russian manner, with plenty of sugar and a squeeze of lemon. Katinka presided over a samovar, and dispensed caviare sandwiches, so that the meal was entirely Muscovite. Aksakoff, stiff and pale and lean, precisely dressed and watchful as a cat, paid diplomatic compliments to Lady Richardson, while Captain Lake laughed with Katinka. Miss Mulrady had annexed a flattering vicomte who wanted money in exchange for a name which dated from the Crusades, and Askew hovered, like the silly moth he was, round Lady Jim's superfine wax candle. This possible tragedy of singed wings doubly and trebly assured Katinka of Leah's honesty, for who could love the demi-god Demetrius and trifle with a nautical butterfly? Thus did she argue, crediting her once rival and now ally with the infatuation which, in Fairyland, made Titania clip Bottom in her arms.