Part 46 (1/2)
Her manner irritates him extremely, princ.i.p.ally because it shows him that he stands by no means so high in her favour as he had supposed.
The fair friends.h.i.+p, founded upon flattery, or at least upon mutual consideration for personal vanity, is in danger of a breach. Fainacky is consumed by a desire to irritate still further this insulting woman, and to do Treurenberg an injury.
”Indeed!--a manifestly false piece of gossip?” he drawls, contemptuously.
”Yes, nothing else,” she declares; ”apart from the fact that my husband has personal control of a considerable income,--my father made sure of that before he gave his consent to my marriage; he never would have welcomed as a son-in-law an aristocrat without independent means,--apart from this fact, of course my money is at his disposal.”
”Indeed! really? I thought you kept separate purses!” says the Pole, now--thanks to his irritation--giving free rein to his impertinence.
Selina bites her lips and is silent.
Meanwhile, Fainacky continues: ”I can only say that my information as to Treurenberg's financial condition comes from the most trustworthy source, from Abraham himself. That indiscreet confidant informed me one day that the husband of 'the rich Harfink'--that was his expression--owed him money. The circ.u.mstance seemed to gratify his sense of humour. He has a fine sense of humour, the old rascal!”
”I cannot understand--it is impossible. Lato cannot have so far forgotten himself!” exclaims the Countess, pale and breathless from agitation. ”Moreover, his personal requirements are of the fewest. He is no spendthrift.”
”No,” says the Pole, with an ugly smile, ”he is no spendthrift, but he is a gambler! You may perhaps be aware of this, Countess, ignorant as you seem to be of your husband's private affairs?”
”A gambler!” she breaks forth. ”You are fond of big words, apparently.”
”And you, apparently, have a truly feminine antipathy to the truth. Is it possible that you are not aware that even as a young man Treurenberg was a notorious gambler?”
”Since his marriage he has given up play.”
”Indeed? And what carries him to X---- day after day? How does he pa.s.s his mornings there? At cards!” Selina tries to speak, but words fail her, and the Pole continues, exultantly, ”Yes, he plays, and his resources are exhausted,--and so is Abraham Goldstein's patience,--so he has taken to borrowing of his friends, as I happen to know; and if I am not vastly mistaken, Countess, one of these days he will swallow his hidalgo pride and cry _peccavi_ to you, turning to you to relieve his financial embarra.s.sments; and if I were you I would not repulse him,--no, by heaven! not just now. You must do all that you can to keep your hold upon him just at this time.”
”And why just at this time?” she asks, hoa.r.s.ely.
”Why?” He laughs. ”Have you no eyes? Were my hints, my warnings, the other evening, not sufficiently clear?”
”What do you mean? What do you presume to----” Selina's dry lips refuse to obey her; the hints which had lately glanced aside from her armour of self-confidence now go to the very core,--not of her heart, but of her vanity.
Drawing a deep breath, she recovers her voice, and goes on, angrily: ”Are you insane enough to imagine that Lato could be seriously attracted for one moment by that school-girl? The idea is absurd, I could not entertain it for an instant. I have neglected Lato, it is true, but I need only lift my finger----”
”I have said nothing,” the Pole whines, repentantly,--”nothing in the world. For heaven's sake do not be so angry! Nothing has occurred, but Treurenberg has no tact, and Olga is the daughter of a play-actor, and also, as you must admit, and as every one can see, desperately in love with Lato. All I do is to point out the danger to you. Treat Treurenberg with caution, and then----”
”Hus.h.!.+ Go!” she gasps.
He rises and leaves the room, turning in the doorway to say, with a voice and gesture that would have won renown for the hero of a provincial theatre at the end of his fourth act, ”Selina, I have ruined myself with you, I have thrown away your friends.h.i.+p, but I have perhaps saved your existence from s.h.i.+pwreck!”
Whereupon he closes the door and betakes himself to the garden-room to have a last look at the decorations there. He does not think it worth while to carry thither his heroic air of self-sacrifice; on the contrary, as he gives an order to the upholsterer, a triumphant smile hovers upon his lips. ”It will surprise me if Treurenberg now succeeds in arranging his affairs in that quarter,” he thinks to himself.
Meanwhile, Selina is left to herself. She does not suffer from wounded affection; no, her heart is untouched by what she has just heard. But memory, rudely awakened, recalls to her a hundred little occurrences all pointing in the same direction, and she trembles with rage at the idea that any one--that her own husband--should prefer that simpleton of a girl to her own acknowledged beauty.
CHAPTER x.x.xVI.
FAILURE.
The clever Pole had, however, been quite mistaken as to the contents of Lato's letter. Abraham Goldstein's patience with the husband of the ”rich Harfink” was not exhausted,--it was, in fact, inexhaustible; and if, nevertheless, the letter brought home to Lato the sense of his pecuniary embarra.s.sments, it was because a young, inexperienced friend, whom he would gladly have helped had it been possible, had appealed to him in mortal distress. His young cousin Flammingen was the writer of the letter, in which he confessed having lost at play, and entreated Lato to lend him three thousand guilders. To the poor boy this sum appeared immense; it seemed but a trifle to the husband of the ”rich Harfink,” but nevertheless it was a trifle which there would be great difficulty in procuring. And the lad wanted the money within twenty-four hours, to discharge gambling-debts,--debts of honour.