I was for a moment dumb with astonishment. Apart from the amazement of the whole thing, the Archd.u.c.h.ess was not in the least the sort of person to be seriously interested in the abstract question of Isobel's happiness. At least, I should not have supposed her capable of it. I imagine that she must have read my thoughts, for after a searching glance at me she continued:

"You doubt my disinterestedness, Mr. Greatson. Perhaps you are right. I wish the child well, but there is also this fact to be considered.

Isobel married to an English gentleman such as, say, yourself, would be no longer a serious rival to my daughter in the affections of her grandfather."

Then indeed I began to understand. What a woman of resource! She watched me closely behind the feathers of her fan.

"Come," she said, "this time my plot is an innocent one, and it is for Isobel's happiness as well as for my daughter's benefit. Speak to her now. Marry her at once, here in Paris, and I will give her for dowry twenty thousand pounds!"

I ground my heel into the carpet, and I was grateful for those long black feathers which waved gracefully in front of my face. For I was tempted--sorely tempted. The woman's words rang like mad music in my brain. Speak to her! Why not? It was the great joy of the world which waited for me to pluck it. Why not? I was not an old man, the child was fond of me, a single word of compliance, and I might step into my kingdom. Oh, the rapture of it, the wonderful joy of taking her hands in mine, of dropping once and for ever the mask from my face, the gag from my tongue! A rush of wild thoughts turned me dizzy. My secret was no longer a secret at all. The Archd.u.c.h.ess leaned a little closer to me, and whispered behind those fluttering feathers--

"You are a very wonderful person, Mr. Greatson, that you have kept silence so long. The necessity for it has pa.s.sed. The child loves you. I am sure of it."

But my moment of weakness was over. I had a sudden vision of Feurgeres, standing on the stage, listening with bowed head to the thunder of applause, but with his eyes turned always to the darkened box, with its lonely bouquet of pink roses--lonely to all save him, who alone saw the hand which held them--of Feurgeres in his sanctuary, bending lovingly over that chair, empty to all save him, Feurgeres, with that smile of unearthly happiness upon his lips--calm, debonair and steadfast. This was the man who had trusted me. I raised my head.

"Madame," I said quietly, "what you suggest is impossible."

She stared at me in incredulous astonishment.

"But I do not understand," she exclaimed weakly. "You agree, surely?"

I shook my head.

"On the contrary, Madame," I said, "I beg that you will not allude further to the matter."

The Archd.u.c.h.ess muttered something in German to herself which I did not understand. Perhaps it was just as well.

"You will vouchsafe me," she begged, speaking very slowly, and keeping her eyes fixed on me, "some reason for your refusal?"

"I will give you two," I answered. "First, it is contrary to the spirit of my promise to Monsieur Feurgeres."

Her lip curled.

"Well?"

"Secondly," I continued, "I should be taking a dishonourable advantage of my position with regard to Isobel. She is very grateful to me, and she would very likely mistake her sentiments if I were to speak to her as you suggest. She is too young to know what love is. She has met no young men of her own rank, she does not understand in the least what sort of position is in store for her."

"These are your reasons, then?"

"I venture to think that they are sufficient ones, Madame," I answered.

The Archd.u.c.h.ess rose.

"We shall need a new Cervantes," she remarked, "to do justice to the Englishman of to-day. I shall keep my word, Mr. Greatson, as regards Isobel, and I can promise you this. If gaiety and eligible suitors, and the luxury of her new life are not sufficient to stifle any sentimental follies she may be nursing just now, I will not rest till I find other means. Adelaide's future is arranged. I will set myself to make Isobel's equally brilliant. I will make her the beauty of Europe. She shall forget in a month the squalid days of her life with you and your friends in an attic."

"So long as Isobel is happy," I answered, "my mission is accomplished, and I am content."

"You are a fool and a liar!" she answered contemptuously. "You will love her all your days, and you know it. You will grow to curse the memory of this hour in which you threw away the only chance you will ever have of winning her. The only chance, mind, I will answer for that. I wish you good-evening, Mr. Greatson. You are excused. Isobel, as you are aware, remains here. You will find her in the music-room with Adelaide. Go and make your adieux, and make them quickly. You will be interrupted in three minutes."

She swept away from me with only the slightest inclination of her head.

I made my way to the music-room, where Isobel and her cousin were sitting together. Directly I entered, the latter, with a little nod of curious meaning to me, rose and left us alone. I held out my hands.

"Isobel, dear," I said, "this must be--our farewell, then--for a time!"

She placed her hands in mine. They were as cold as ice. Her cheeks were white, her eyes seemed fastened upon mine. All the while her bosom was heaving convulsively, but she said nothing.

"I can only wish you what Arthur and Allan have already wished you," I said, "happiness! You have every chance of it, dear. You surely deserve it, for you brightened up our dull lives so that we can, no one of us, ever forget you. Think of us sometimes. Good-bye!"

I stooped and kissed her lightly on the cheek. But suddenly her arms were wound around my neck. With a strength which was amazing she held me to her.

"Arnold!" she sobbed. "Oh, Arnold!"

Her lips were upon mine, and in another second I should have been lost, for my arms would have been around her. The door opened and closed. We heard the jingling of sequins, the sweep of a silken train. The Archd.u.c.h.ess had entered. Isobel's arms fell from my neck, but her cheeks were scarlet, and her eyes like stars.

"You--are going?" she pleaded.

"I am going," I answered huskily.

The Archd.u.c.h.ess came down the room, humming a light tune.

"So the dread farewell is over, then!" she exclaimed, with light good humour. "Come, child, no red eyes. Remember, a Waldenburg weeps only twice in her life. Once more, good-night, Mr. Greatson."

I had reached the door. Isobel was standing still with outstretched arms. The Archd.u.c.h.ess glided between us--and I went.

The next morning I travelled unseen by the Riviera express, to which the saloon of the Archd.u.c.h.ess had been attached, all the way to Illghera. I saw her driven with the others to the villa.

Two days afterwards, from a hill overlooking the grounds, I saw an old gentleman in a pony chaise preceded by two footmen in dark green livery.

Adelaide walked on one side, and Isobel on the other. That night I left Illghera for England.

CHAPTER X

I knew the moment I opened the door that changes were on foot. Our studio sitting-room was dismantled of many of its treasures. Allan, with his coat off and a pipe in his mouth, was throwing odds and ends in a promiscuous sort of way into a huge trunk which stood open upon the floor. Arthur, a few yards off, was rolling a cigarette.

Our meeting was not wholly free from embarra.s.sment. I think that for the first time in our lives there was a cloud between Allan and myself. He stood up and faced me squarely.

"Arnold," he said, "where is Isobel?"

"In Illghera with her grandfather," I answered. "Where else should she be?"

"Are you sure?"

"I have seen her there with my own eyes," I affirmed.