Part 21 (1/2)
Will you come?”
”Is he coming?”
”Lord Lane, tell him that you are.”
”You are very good, Contessa----”
”There! You hear, it is settled.”
”If--Lord Lane makes you a visit, I will also, as you are kind enough to want me.”
Afterwards, when we had bidden the Contessa and her guardian dragons good-night, and it was arranged that we were to stay over to-morrow, on account of the lost bag, I said to the Boy on the way upstairs, ”You've made a conquest of the Contessa.”
He blushed furiously, looked angry, and then burst out laughing. ”Are you jealous?” he asked.
”I ought to be.”
”But are you?”
”I haven't had time to a.n.a.lyse my emotions. Why did you never tell me you sang?”
”I wasn't ready--till to-night. Now--I sang for you.”
”I thought it was for the Contessa.”
”Did you? Well”--with sudden crossness--”you may go on thinking so, if you like. Can she sing?”
”Rather well.”
”As--better than I can?”
”You must judge for yourself when you hear her.”
”You might tell me. But no! I don't want you to, now. It's spoiled.
Good-night.”
”Good-night. Dream of your conquest.”
”Probably she's only trying to--to bring you to the point, by being nice to me. I wonder if you care?”
I would not give the little wretch any satisfaction. I merely laughed, and an odd blue light flashed in his eyes. He was making up his mind to something, for the life of me I could not tell what.
The Contessa and her satellites should have gone on to Chamounix next day, but Gaeta frankly announced her intention of waiting, so that we might make the journey together. They were driving over the Tete Noire, and we would go afoot, to be sure; still, said she, we could keep more or less together, exchanging impressions from time to time, and lunching at the same place. She made me promise, as a reward to her for this delay, that the Boy and I would not take the way of the Col de Balme, by which no carriage could pa.s.s. If we did this, our party and hers must part company early in the day, and she would be left to the tender mercies of the Baron and Baronessa for many a _triste_ hour.
”But why should you be imposed upon by them, if they don't amuse you?”
I ventured to ask; for Gaeta was so frank about her affairs that one was sometimes led inadvertently to take liberties.
”Oh, it was the brother who amused me, and he amuses me still,”
replied she, with a _moue_, and a shrug of her pretty shoulders. ”At least, I don't _think_ I shall be tired of him, when I see him again.
He is a whirlwind; he carries a woman off her feet, before she knows what is happening, and we like that in a man, we Italians. We adore temperament. I was nice to the Baron and Baronessa for Paolo's sake.