Part 16 (2/2)

”Well, now he's in the past. He was a pleasant man-I can understand my doing that. But he only lived a year. He had neuralgia of the heart; he left me very well off.” She mentioned these various facts as if they were quite of the same order.

”I'm glad to hear _that_. You used to have expensive tastes.”

”I've plenty of money,” said Mrs. Headway. ”Mr. Headway had property at Denver, which has increased immensely in value. After his death I tried New York. But I don't take much stock in New York.” Littlemore's hostess spoke these last words in a tone that reeked of some strong experience. ”I mean to live in Europe. I guess I can do with Europe,”

she stated; and the manner of it had the touch of prophecy, as the other proposition had had the echo of history.

Littlemore was much struck with all this; he was greatly enlivened by Mrs. Headway. ”Then you're travelling with that young man?” he pursued, with the coolness of a person who wishes to make his entertainment go as far as possible.

She folded her arms as she leaned back in her chair. ”Look here, Mr.

Littlemore; I'm about as sweet-tempered as I used to be in America, but I know a great deal more. Of course I ain't travelling with that young man. He's only a good friend.”

”He isn't a good lover?” Littlemore ventured.

”Do people travel-publicly-with their lovers? I don't want you to laugh at me-I want you to help me.” Her appeal might, in its almost childish frankness, have penetrated; she recognised his wisdom. ”As I tell you, I've taken a great fancy to this grand old Europe; I feel as if I should never go back. But I want to see something of the life. I think it would suit me-if I could get started a little. George Littlemore,” she added in a moment-”I may as well be _real_, for I ain't at all ashamed.

I want to get into society. That's what I'm after!”

He settled himself in his chair with the feeling of a man who, knowing that he will have to pull, seeks to obtain a certain leverage. It was in a tone of light jocosity, almost of encouragement, however, that he repeated: ”Into society? It seems to me you're in it already, with the big people over here for your adorers.”

”That's just what I want to know-if they _are_ big,” she promptly said.

”Is a Baronet much?”

”So they're apt to think. But I know very little about it.”

”Ain't you in society yourself?”

”I? Never in the world! Where did you get that idea? I care no more about society than about Max's b.u.t.tons.”

Mrs. Headway's countenance a.s.sumed for a moment a look of extreme disappointment, and Littlemore could see that, having heard of his silver-mine and his cattle-ranch, and knowing that he was living in Europe, she had hoped to find him eminent in the world of fas.h.i.+on. But she speedily took heart. ”I don't believe a word of it. You know you're a real gentleman-you can't help yourself.”

”I may be a gentleman, but I've none of the habits of one.” Littlemore had a pause and then added: ”I guess I've sat too much on back piazzas.”

She flushed quickly; she instantly understood-understood even more than he had meant to say. But she wished to make use of him, and it was of more importance that she should appear forgiving-especially as she had the happy consciousness of being so-than that she should punish a cruel speech. She would be wise, however, to recognise everything. ”That makes no difference-a gentleman's always a gentleman.”

”Ah, not the way a lady's always a lady!” he laughed.

”Well, talking of ladies, it's unnatural that, through your sister, you shouldn't know something about European society,” said Mrs. Headway.

At the mention of his sister, made with a studied lightness of reference which he caught as it pa.s.sed, Littlemore was unable to repress a start.

”What in the world have you to do with my sister?” he would have liked to say. The introduction of this relative was disagreeable to him; she belonged quite to another order of ideas, and it was out of the question Mrs. Headway should ever make her acquaintance-if this was what, as the latter would have said, she was ”after.” But he took advantage of a side issue. ”What do you mean by European society? One can't talk about that. It's an empty phrase.”

”Well, I mean English society; I mean the society your sister lives in; that's what I mean,” said his hostess, who was quite prepared to be definite. ”I mean the people I saw in London last May-the people I saw at the opera and in the park, the people who go to the Queen's drawing-rooms. When I was in London I stayed at that hotel on the corner of Piccadilly-the one looking straight down Saint James's Street-and I spent hours together at the window there looking at the people in the carriages. I had a carriage of my own, and when I wasn't at my window I was riding all around. I was all alone; I saw every one, but I knew no one-I had no one to tell me. I didn't know Sir Arthur then-I only met him a month ago at Homburg. He followed me to Paris-that's how he came to be my guest.” Serenely, prosaically, without a breath of the inflation of vanity, she made this last a.s.sertion: it was as if she were used to being followed or as if a gentleman one met at Homburg would inevitably follow. In the same tone she went on: ”I attracted a good deal of attention in London-I could easily see that.”

”You'll do that wherever you go,” Littlemore said-insufficiently enough, as he felt.

”I don't want to attract so much; I think it's vulgar.” She spoke as if she liked to use the word. She was evidently open to new sources of pleasure.

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