The Indiscretion of the Duchess Part 4

"Paris," pouted the d.u.c.h.ess.

Gustave rose, flinging his napkin on the table.

"I shall follow her to-morrow," he said. "I suppose you'll go back to England, Gilbert?"

If Gustave left us, it was my unhesitating resolve to return to England.

"I suppose I shall," said I.

"I suppose you must," said the d.u.c.h.ess ruefully. "Oh, isn't it exasperating? I had planned it all so delightfully!"

"If you had told the truth--" began Gustave.

"I should not have had a preacher to supper," said the d.u.c.h.ess sharply; then she fell to laughing again.

"Is Mlle. de Berensac irrecoverable?" I suggested.

"Why, yes. She has gone to take her turn of attendance on your rich old aunt, Gustave."

I think that there was a little malice in the d.u.c.h.ess' way of saying this.

There seemed nothing more to be done. The d.u.c.h.ess herself did not propose to defy conventionality to the extent of inviting me to stay. To do her justice, as soon as the inevitable was put before her, she accepted it with good grace, and, after supper, busied herself in discovering the time and manner in which her guests might pursue their respective journeys. I may be flattering myself, but I thought that she displayed a melancholy satisfaction on discovering that Gustave de Berensac must leave at ten o'clock the next morning, whereas I should be left to kick my heels in idleness at Cherbourg if I set out before five in the afternoon.

"Oh, you can spend the time _en route_," said Gustave. "It will be better."

The d.u.c.h.ess looked at me; I looked at the d.u.c.h.ess.

"My dear Gustave," said I, "you are very considerate. You could not do more if I also were in love with Lady Cynthia."

"Nor," said the d.u.c.h.ess, "if I were quite unfit to be spoken to."

"If my remaining till the afternoon will not weary the d.u.c.h.ess--" said I.

"The d.u.c.h.ess will endure it," said she, with a nod and a smile.

Thus it was settled, a shake of the head conveying Gustave's judgment. And soon after, Mme. de Saint-Maclou bade us good-night. Tired with my journey, and (to tell the truth) a little out of humor with my friend, I was not long in seeking my bed. At the top of the stairs a group of three girls were gossiping; one of them handed me a candle and flung open the door of my room with a roguish smile on her broad good-tempered face.

"One of the greatest virtues of women," said I pausing on the threshold, "is fidelity."

"We are devoted to Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse," said the girl.

"Another, hardly behind it, is discretion," I continued.

"Madame inculcates it on us daily," said she. I took out a napoleon.

"Ladies," said I, placing the napoleon in the girl's hand, "I am obliged for your kind attentions. Good-night!" and I shut the door on the sound of a pleased, excited giggling. I love to hear such sounds; they make me laugh myself, for joy that this old world, in spite of everything, holds so much merriment; and to their jovial lullaby I fell asleep,

Moreover--the d.u.c.h.ess teaching discretion! There can have been nothing like it since Baby Charles and Steenie conversed within the hearing of King James! But, then discretion has two meanings--whereof the one is "Do it not," and the other "Tell it not." Considering of this ambiguity, I acquitted the d.u.c.h.ess of hypocrisy.

At ten o'clock the next morning we got rid of my dear friend Gustave de Berensac. Candor compels me to put the statement in that form; for the gravity which had fallen upon him the night before endured till the morning, and he did not flinch from administering something very like a lecture to his hostess. His last words were an invitation to me to get into the carriage and start with him. When I suavely declined, he told me that I should regret it. It comforts me to think that his prophecy, though more than once within an ace of the most ample fulfillment, yet in the end was set at naught by the events which followed.

Gustave rolled down the hill, the d.u.c.h.ess sighed relief.

"Now," said she, "we can enjoy ourselves fora few hours, Mr. Aycon. And after that--solitude!"

I was really very sorry for the d.u.c.h.ess. Evidently society and gayety were necessary as food and air to her, and her churl of a husband denied them.

My opportunity was short, but I laid myself out to make the most of it. I could give her nothing more than a pleasant memory, but I determined to do that.

We spent the greater part of the day in a ramble through the woods that lined the slopes of the hill behind the house; and all through the hours the d.u.c.h.ess chatted about herself, her life, her family--and then about the duke. If the hints she gave were to be trusted, her husband deserved little consideration at her hands, and, at the worst, the plea of reprisal might offer some excuse for her, if she had need of one. But she denied the need, and here I was inclined to credit her. For with me, as with Gustave de Berensac before the shadow of Lady Cynthia came between, she was, most distinctly, a "good comrade." Sentiment made no appearance in our conversation, and, as the day ruthlessly wore on, I regretted honestly that I must go in deference to a conventionality which seemed, in this case at least--Heaven forbid that I should indulge in general theories--to mask no reality. Yet she was delightful by virtue of the vitality in her; and the woods echoed again and again with our laughter.

At four o'clock we returned sadly to the house, where the merry girls busied themselves in preparing a repast for me. The d.u.c.h.ess insisted on sharing my meal.

"I shall go supperless to bed to-night," said she; and we sat down glum as two children going back to school.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside; the girls were talking to one another in rapid eager tones. The d.u.c.h.ess raised her head, listening. Then she turned to me, asking:

"Can you hear what they say?"

"I can distinguish nothing except 'Quick, quick!'"

As I spoke the door was thrown open, and two rushed in, the foremost saying:

"Again, madame, again!"

"Impossible!" exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess, starting up.

"No, it is true. Jean was out, snaring a rabbit, and caught sight of the carriage."

"What carriage? Whose carriage?" I asked.

"Why, my husband's," said the d.u.c.h.ess, quite calmly. "It is a favorite trick of his to surprise us. But Algeria! We thought we were safe with Algeria. He must travel underground like a mole, Suzanne, or we should have heard."

"Oh, one hears nothing here!"

"And what," said the d.u.c.h.ess, "are we to do with Mr. Aycon?"

"I can solve that," I observed. "I'm off."

"But he'll see you!" cried the girl. "He is but a half-mile off."

"Mr. Aycon could take the side-path," said the d.u.c.h.ess.

"The duke would see him before he reached it," said the girl. "He would be in sight for nearly fifty yards."

"Couldn't I hide in the bushes?" I asked.

"I hate anything that looks suspicious," remarked the d.u.c.h.ess, still quite calm; "and if he happened to see you, it would look rather suspicious! And he has got eyes like a cat's for anything of that sort."

There was no denying that it would look suspicious if I were caught hiding in the bushes. I sat silent, having no other suggestion to make.