Part 49 (1/2)
”If I can no longer tell you all that is in my thoughts, do not blame me. Let us wait for the meeting. I am afraid, if I were to speak, some of my chagrin might show itself.”
He made a gesture of disappointment. ”I have lived too long in the world, Christabel, to look for either schemes or counsels of perfection. Life must always be a compromise. I will not counsel you now; I will only hope.”
”That is at least left to us all--even to me in this.”
He gave me a sharp look, threw up his head slightly, and said: ”Remember, Count Gustav is necessary to the country.”
”It is an unfortunate country, then,” I retorted, rather tartly; and we said no more.
Soon after breakfast James Perry came. He told me that he had written the letter; and I gave him his final lessons, and said that his father, who was waiting close at hand--was to take a letter which I had written to Colonel Katona, and then to be at the door with the carriage for me at twelve o'clock to the instant.
In the letter to Colonel Katona I merely gave him my address, and said I would be there within half an hour of midday to meet him and Count Karl.
When I had arranged those details, I had nothing to do except wait for the time of the meeting with such patience as I could command.
I did not know that two hours could possibly contain so many weary dragging minutes as those. I resorted to every device I could think of to use up the time. I walked up and down the room counting my steps.
I tried to read; only to fling the book away from me. I repeated a quant.i.ty of poetry, from Shakespeare to Walt Whitman. I got the chess board out and tried problems; only at last to give it all up and just think and think and think.
At eleven o'clock I went to my bedroom and put on my hat in readiness, although I was not to leave until an hour later. Then to find something for my hands to do, I unpacked my trunk and tumbled all my clothes in a heap; and began refolding and repacking them with deliberate care.
I was in the midst of this most uninteresting task when a servant brought a message that General von Erlanger would like to see me.
I bundled everything back into the trunk anyhow and anywhere, locked it and went down. It was half-past eleven by the great hall clock as I crossed to the library. James Perry was just about making his entrance as traitor.
His Excellency was fingering a letter as I went in.
”I am anxious to have a last talk with you before Count Gustav comes, Christabel. There are some things I wish you to see quite plainly.”
”We have only half an hour,” said I.
”No, we may have longer. I have a line from the Count to say that an unexpected but very pressing engagement may prevent his being quite punctual; and he begs me to explain this to you.”
”Oh, General, what perfectly glorious marguerites!” I exclaimed, enthusiastically, turning to point to the flowers in the garden, lest he should see my face and read there the effect of his words. Count Gustav's engagement was with James Perry; and my heart beat fast as I saw victory ahead.
His Excellency crossed and stood by me. ”Yes, they are beautiful. I pride myself on my marguerites, you know. But--isn't it a little singular they should appeal to you so strongly at this particular moment?”
”I love marguerites,” I replied, with a smile. I was master of my features again then.
”So do I. To me they stand for simplicity, truth, trust and candour, especially between friends--such as, say, you and myself, Christabel.”
We exchanged looks; mine smiling; his grave, very gentle, and a little reproachful.
CHAPTER XXV
ON THE THRESHOLD
His Excellency had at times some very pretty ways. He stepped through the window now, and, plucking three or four of the finest marguerites, offered them to me.