Denzil Ardayre could not get any more leave for a considerable time and remained quartered in the North, where he played cricket and polo to his heart's content, but the head of the family and his charming wife went through the feverish season of 1914 in the town house in Brook Street.

Ardayre was too far away for week-end parties, but they had several successful London dinners, and Amaryllis was becoming quite a capable hostess, and was much admired in the world.

Very fine of instinct and apprehension at all times she was developing by contact with intelligent people--for John had taken care that she only mixed with the most select of his friends. The de la Paule family had been more than appreciative of her and had guided her and supervised her visiting list with care.

Everything was too much of a rush for her to think and a.n.a.lyse things, and if she had been asked whether she was happy, she would have thought that she was replying with honesty when she affirmed that she was. John was not happy and knew it, but none of his emotions ever betrayed themselves, and the mask of his stolid content never changed.

They had gone on with their matter-of-fact relations, and when they returned to London after a week at Ardayre, all had been much easier, because they were seldom alone--and at last Amaryllis had grown to accept the situation, and try not to speculate about it. She danced every night at b.a.l.l.s and continued the usual round, but often at the Opera, or the Russian ballet, or driving back through the park in the dawn, some wild longing for romance would stir in her, and she would nestle close to John. And John would perhaps kiss her quietly and speak of ordinary things. He went everywhere with her though, and never failed in the kindest consideration. He seldom danced himself, and therefore must often have been weary, but no suggestion of this ever reached Amaryllis.

"What does he talk to his friends about, I wonder?" she asked herself, watching him from across a room, in a great house after dinner one night.

John was seated beside the American Lady Avonwier, a brilliant person who did not allow herself to be bored. He appeared calm as usual, and there they sat until it was time to go on to a ball.

Everything he said was so sensible, so well informed--perhaps that was a nice change for people--and then he was very good-looking and--but oh!

what was it--what was it which made it all so disappointing and tame!

A week after they had come up to Brook Street, the Boleskis arrived at the Mount Lennard House which they had taken in Grosvenor Square, armed with every kind of introduction, and Harietta immediately began to dazzle the world.

Her dresses and jewels defied all rivalry; they were in a cla.s.s alone, and she was frank and stupid and gracious--and fitted in exactly with the spirit of the time.

She restrained her movements in dancing to suit the less advanced English taste; she gave to every charity and organized entertainments of a fantastic extravagance which whetted the appet.i.te of society, grown jaded with all the old ways. The men of all ages flocked round her, and she played with them all--amba.s.sadors, politicians, guardsmen, all drawn by her own potent charm, and she disarmed criticism by her stupidity and good nature, and the lavish amus.e.m.e.nts she provided for every one--while the chef they had brought over with them from Paris would have insured any hostess's success!

Harietta had never been so happy in all the thirty-six years of her life.

This was her hour of triumph. She was here in a country which spoke her own language--for her French was deplorably bad--she had an unquestioned position, and all would have been without flaw but for this tiresome information she was forced to collect.

Verisschenzko had been detained in Paris. The events of the twenty-eighth of June at Serajevo were of deep moment to him, and it was not until the second week in July that he arrived at the Ritz, full of profound preoccupation.

Amaryllis had been to Harietta's dinners and dances, and now the Boleskis had been asked down to Ardayre in return for the three days at the end of the month, when the coming of age of the young Marquis of Bridgeborough would give occasion for great rejoicings, and Amaryllis herself would give a ball.

"You cannot ask people down to North Somerset in these days just for the pleasure of seeing you, my dear child," Lady de la Paule had said to her nephew's wife. "Each season it gets worse; one is flattered if one's friends answer an invitation to dinner even, or remain for half an hour when it is done. I do not know what things are coming to, etiquette of all sorts went long ago--now manners, and even decency have gone. We are rapidly becoming savages, openly seizing whatever good thing is offered to us no matter from whom, and then throwing it aside the instant we catch sight of something new. But one must always go with the tide unless one is strong enough to stem it, and frankly _I_ am not. Now Bridgeborough's coming of age will make a nice excuse for you to have a party at Ardayre. How many people can you put up? Thirty guests and their servants at least, and seven or eight more if you use the agent's house."

So thus it had been arranged, and John expressed his pleasure that his sweet Amaryllis should show what a hostess she could be.

None but the most interesting people were invited, and the party promised to be the greatest success.

Two or three days before they were to go down, Amaryllis coming in late in the afternoon, found Verisschenzko's card.

"Oh! John!" she cried delightedly, "that very thrilling Russian whom we met in Paris has called. You remember he wrote to me some time ago and said he would let us know when he arrived. Oh! would not it be nice to have him at our party--let us telephone to him now!"

Verisschenzko answered the call himself, he had just come in; he expressed himself as enchanted at the thought of seeing her--and yes--with pleasure he would come down to Ardayre for the ball.

"We shall meet to-night, perhaps, at Carlton House Terrace at the German Emba.s.sy," he said, "and then we can settle everything."

Amaryllis wondered why she felt rather excited as she walked up the stairs--she had often thought of Verisschenzko, and hoped he would come to England. He was vivid and living and would help her to balance herself. She had thought while she dressed that her life had been one stupid rush with no end, since that night when they had talked of serious things at the Montivacchini hotel. She had need of the counsel he had promised to give her, for this heedless racket was not adding l.u.s.tre to her soul.

Verisschenzko seemed to find her very soon--he was not one of those persons who miss things by vagueness. His yellow-green eyes were blazing when they met hers, and without any words he offered her his arm, foreign fashion, and drew her out on to the broad terrace to a secluded seat he had apparently selected beforehand, as there was no hesitancy in his advance towards this goal.

He looked at her critically for an instant when they were seated in the soft gloom.

"You are changed, Madame. Half the soul is awake now, but the other half has gone further to sleep."

"--Yes, I felt you would say that--I do not like myself," and she sighed.

"Tell me about it."

"I seem to be drifting down such a useless stream--and it is all so mad and aimless, and yet it is fun. But every one is tired and restless and n.o.body cares for anything real--I am afraid I am not strong enough to stand aside from it though, and I wonder sometimes what I shall become."

Verisschenzko looked at her earnestly--he was silent for some seconds.

"Fate may alter the atmosphere. There are things hovering, I fear, of which you do not dream, little protected English bride. Perhaps it is good that you live while you can."

"What things?"

"Sorrows for the world. But tell me, have you seen Harietta Boleski in her London role?"

"Yes--she is the greatest success--every one goes to her parties; she is coming to mine at Ardayre."

Verisschenzko raised his eyebrows, and nothing could have been more sardonically whimsical than his smile.

"I saw Stanisla.s.s this morning--he is almost _gaga_ now--a mere cypher--she has destroyed his body, as well as his soul."

"They are both coming on the twenty-third."

"It will be an interesting visit I do not doubt--and I shall see the Family house!"

"I hope you will like it--I shall love to show it to you, and the pictures. It means so much to John."

"Have you met your cousin Denzil yet?".

Verisschenzko was studying her face; it had gained something, it was a little finer--but it had lost something too, and there was a shadow in her eyes.

"Denzil Ardayre? No--What made you mention him now?"

"I shall be curious as to what you think of him, he is so like--your husband, you know."

The subject did not interest Amaryllis; she wanted to hear more of the Russian's unusual views.

"You know London well, do you not?" she asked.

"Yes--I often came up from Oxford when I was there, and I have revisited it since. It is a sane place generally, but this year it would seem to be almost as _desequilibre_ as the rest of the world."

"You give me an uneasy feeling, as though you knew that something dreadful was going to happen. What is it? Tell me."

"One can only speculate how soon a cauldron will boil over, one cannot be certain in what direction the liquid will fly. The whole world seems feverish; the spirit of progress has awakened after hundreds of years of sleep, and is disturbing everything. In all boilings the sc.u.m rises to the top; we are at the period when this has occurred--we can but wait--and watch."

"If we had a new religion?"

"It will come presently, the reign of mystical make-believe is past."

"But surely it is mysticism and idealism which make ordinary things divine!"