Part 5 (1/2)
When August snow fell upon St. Moritz, the Barringtons descended to Milan, Florence, Venice and Rome. Towards Christmas they found their way to the Riviera, where they met Lady Everington at Monte Carlo, very indignant, or pretending to be so, at the neglect with which she had been treated.
”Fairy G.o.dmothers are important people,” she said, ”and very easily offended. Then, they turn you into wild animals, or send you to sleep for a hundred years. Why didn't you write to me, child?”
They were sitting on the terrace with the Casino behind them, overlooking the blue Mediterranean. A few yards farther on, a tall, young Englishman was chatting and laughing with a couple of girls too elaborately beautiful and too dazzlingly gowned for any world but the half-world. Suddenly he turned, and noticed Lady Everington. With a courteous farewell to his companions, he advanced to greet her.
”Aubrey Laking,” she exclaimed, ”you never answered the letter I wrote to you at Tokyo.”
”Dear Lady Georgie, I left Tokyo ages ago. It followed me back to England; and I am now second secretary at Christiania. That is why I am in Monte Carlo!”
”Then let me introduce you to Asako Fujinami, who is now Mrs.
Barrington. You must tell her all about Tokyo. It is her native city; but she has not seen it since she was in long clothes, if j.a.panese babies wear such things.”
Aubrey Laking and Barrington had been at Eton together. They were old friends, and were delighted to meet once more. Barrington, especially, was pleased to have this opportunity to hear about j.a.pan from one who had but lately left the country, and who was moreover a fluent and agreeable talker. Laking had not resided in j.a.pan long enough to get tired of orientalism. He described the quaint, the picturesque, the amusing side of life in the East. He was full of enthusiasm for the land of soft voices and smiling faces, where countless little shops spread their wares under the light of the evening lanterns, where the tw.a.n.g of the _samisen_ and the _geisha's_ song are heard coming from the lighted tea-house, and the shadow of her helmet-like _coiffure_ is seen appearing and disappearing in silhouette against the paper _shoji_.
The East was drawing the Barringtons towards its perilous coasts.
Laking's position at the Tokyo Emba.s.sy had been taken by Reggie Forsyth, one of Geoffrey's oldest friends, his best man at his wedding and a light of Lady Everington's circle. Already, Geoffrey had sent him a post-card, saying, ”Warm up the _sake_ bottle,” (Geoffrey was becoming quite learned in things j.a.panese), ”and expect friends shortly.”
However, when the Barringtons did at last tear themselves from the Riviera, they announced rather disingenuously that they were going to Egypt.
”They are too happy,” Lady Everington said to Laking a few days later, ”and they know nothing. I am afraid there will be trouble.”
”Oh, Lady Georgie,” he replied, ”I have never known you to be a prophetess of gloom. I would have thought the auspices were most fortunate.”
”They ought to quarrel more than they do,” Lady Everington complained.
”She ought to contradict him more than she does. There must be a volcanic element in marriage. It is a sign of trouble coming when the fires are quiet.”
”But they have got plenty of money,” expostulated Aubrey, whose troubles were invariably connected with his banking account, ”and they are very fond of each other. Where is the trouble to come from?”
”Trouble is on the lookout for all of us, Aubrey,” said his companion, ”it is no good flying from it, even. The only thing to do is to look it in the face and laugh at it; then it gets annoyed sometimes, and goes away. But those two poor dears are sailing into the middle of it, and they don't even know how to laugh yet.”
”You think that Egypt is hopelessly demoralising. Thousands of people go there and come safely home, almost all, in fact, except Robert Hichens's heroines.”
”Oh no, not in Egypt,” said Lady Everington; ”Egypt is only a stepping-stone. They are going to j.a.pan.”
”Well, certainly j.a.pan is harmless enough. There is n.o.body there worth flirting with except us at the Emba.s.sies, and we generally have our hands full. As for the visitors, they are always under the influence of Cook's tickets and j.a.panese guides.”
”Aubrey dear, you think that trouble can only come from flirting or money.”
”I know that those two preoccupations are an abundant source of trouble.”
”What do you think of Mrs. Barrington?” asked her Ladys.h.i.+p, appearing to change the subject.
”Oh, a very sweet little thing.”
”Like your lady friends in Tokyo, the j.a.panese ones, I mean?”
”Not in the least. j.a.panese ladies look very picturesque, but they are as dull as dolls. They sidle along in the wake of their husbands, and don't expect to be spoken to.”
”And have you no more intimate experience?” asked Lady Everington.