"Are you satisfied? Am I pleasant enough to him?"

But he failed somehow to respond. He remained silent and abstracted, and sometimes he seemed to be remote from the company.

"Dream on," she thought blissfully. "_I_ will look out for our happiness."

The friendship between her and the old man waxed apace.

By the time the wild duck came and with it the glowing Burgundy, which slipped down their throats like caressing flames, she had already been calling him uncle.

And he for his part, repeatedly declared that he was "totally wrapped up in his dear, dear little Lilly."

So this was the test, the cruel test, from which she had thought there was no concealment, no escape, the test that would bare her, dissect her, and turn her soul inside out.

She could scarcely contain herself when she thought of it.

Yes, yes. There sat that awful danger, whose moneybags held victory or defeat--a little monster grown tame, who stroked her fingers with his horrid wrinkled hands, and fawned on her for a crumb of her favour.

He was really amusing, especially when he told jokes.

What a lot of gossip from the colonies!

She had not heard so many anecdotes in a whole year.

For example there was the story of the German governor, Mr. Von So and So--she had met him once at Uhl's. He went to his post with his suite, consisting of his secretary, his valet, and his cook. Six months afterwards the cook went to him and said: "Governor, it's so and so far." He gave her two thousand marks and said: "But be sure and hold your tongue." Then she went to the secretary and said: "Mr. Muller, it's so and so far." He gave her three hundred marks and said: "But be sure and hold your tongue." Then she went to the valet and said: "John, it's so and so far. We can get married." Three months afterward the valet went to the governor and said: "Your Excellency, that woman did us all.

The brat's a n.i.g.g.e.r."

And many another story he told of like nature.

She had to hold her sides with laughter.

"Laugh, Konrad, darling, laugh."

He smiled, but his eyes remained serious, and his forehead tense.

When the champagne was brought they drank "fellowship."

It was horrible to kiss those thick, greedy old lips, but their future happiness demanded it.

Konrad, too, was to get a kiss. But he refused it. Worse still, he wanted to prohibit her drinking.

"She isn't careful enough," he muttered. "Please, uncle, don't give her so much. We have never drunk so much."

But they both laughed at him.

"He's always been a country yokel," the old man teased, "and has never known what's good. It's too bad for you to throw yourself away on him, Lilly dear. You ought to take a man like me. Not a b.o.o.by in corduroy.

He's a regular funeral torch."

But on this subject Lilly brooked no teasing.

"You let my little Konni alone, you old fright. You'd better tell your old chestnuts. Come along! Forward, march!"

No, she would not permit a word against her sweet little Konni.

The uncle fell to telling his stories again.

Now they were anecdotes in pigeon-English, that lingo which the Chinese and other interesting personages in the Far East use as a means of communication with the white sahibs. "Tom and Paddy in the Tea House,"

"The Virtuous Miss Laura in Macao," "The Guide and the Bayadere," each received a good box on the ear.

"But Konni ought not to hear any more of this, uncle. I don't want my Konni to be spoiled for me."

So she put her left ear close to the old gentleman's lips, and made a "whispering cave" with him, as was the wont of members of the "crew"

when they flirted too outrageously or misbehaved in other ways.

Anyone who had thought she was tongue-tied or unable to repay like with like would have been sadly mistaken. The general's club jokes suffered from no lack of juiciness, and what she had learned from the "crew" was certainly of no mean parentage.

It was worth while to exert an extra effort for so appreciative an audience as "uncle." But Konrad, the innocent, had to submit to having his ears stuffed with the cotton batting upon which the calville apples had been served.

After the coffee the old man demanded that Lilly make good her promise and prepare the South Sea bowl. He was sure her a.s.sertion had been a mere idle boast.

No need to taunt her a second time.

All sorts of bottles were called into requisition, besides the sherry and the angostura, an old sweet Yquem. It was really a pity to put it to such uses, so Mr. Rennschmidt suggested taking a gla.s.s or two on the side.

To be sure the eggs broke at the wrong place and spilled over her gown and the carpet. But that made no difference; it only added to the pleasure. At any rate, the dear old uncle was paying for everything.

To compensate, the flame of the alcohol lamp leapt in the air all the more wildly--up to the orchids--up to the sky--it would have delighted her to drink in the tongues of fire the way witches do.

"Your luck, Konni--_our_ luck, Konni!"

"Don't drink," she heard his voice. It was harsher than usual, and strange in its severity.

"Country yokel," she laughed, thrusting out her tongue at him.

"Don't drink," the voice admonished a second time. "You are not used to drinking."

She not used to drinking? How dared he say such a thing? That was questioning her honour. Yes, it was questioning her honour.

"How do you know what I'm used to?... I'm used to quite different things. I've sat on this very seat I'm sitting in more than once--more than ten times--and have drunk much, much more."

"Dear heart, think of what you're saying. It isn't true."

His voice once more sounded soft and gentle, as if he were reproving a naughty child.

Such a shame. It was enough to make one cry.

"How can you say it is not true? Do you think I'm a liar? Do you think I'm not familiar with such fashionable places as this? Pshaw! Shall I prove it to you? Very well. I can. I believe you'll find my name on the base of this lamp--Lilly Czepanek--Lilly Czepanek. Just look for it, look for it!"

He started to his feet and fixed his eyes upon the mirror-like surface defaced by a jumble of characters scratched on it.