Part 24 (2/2)

”What great ma.s.s of papers is that you have there, Duke?” resumed she.

”Can it be a journal?”

”It is an English newspaper, my dear Countess. As I know you do not receive any of his countrymen, I have not asked your permission to present the Lord Selby; but hearing him read out your name in a paragraph here, I carried off his paper to have it translated for me.

You read English, don't you?”

”Very imperfectly, and I detest it,” said she, impatiently; ”but Prince Volkoffsky can, I am sure, oblige you.” And she turned away her head, in ill humor.

”It is here somewhere. _Parbleu_, I thought I marked the place,”

muttered the Duke, as he handed the paper to the Russian. ”Is n't that it?”

”This is all about theatres,--Madame Pasta and the Haymarket.”

”Ah! well, it is lower down; here, perhaps.”

”Court news. The Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar--”

”No, no; not that.”

”Oh, here it is. 'Great Scandal in High Life.--A very singular correspondence has just pa.s.sed, and will soon, we believe, be made public, between the Heralds' College and Lord Glencore.'” Here the reader stopped, and lowered his voice at the next word.

”Read on, Prince. _C'est mon mari_,” said she, coldly, while a very slight movement of her upper lip betrayed what might mean scorn or sorrow, or even both.

The Prince, however, had now run his eyes over the paragraph, and crus.h.i.+ng the newspaper in his hand, hurried away from the spot. The Duke as quickly followed, and soon overtook him.

”Who gave you this paper, Duke?” cried the Russian, angrily.

”It was Lord Selby. He was reading it aloud to a friend.”

”Then he is an _infame!_ and I 'll tell him so,” cried the other, pa.s.sionately. ”Which is he? the one with the light moustache, or the shorter one?” And, without waiting for reply, the Russian dashed between the carriages, and thrusting his way through the prancing crowd of moving horses, arrived at a spot where two young men, evidently strangers to the scene, were standing, calmly surveying the bright panorama before them.

”The Lord Selby,” said the Russian, taking off his hat and saluting one of them.

”That's his Lords.h.i.+p,” replied the one he addressed, pointing to his friend.

”I am the Prince Volkoffsky, aide-de-camp to the Emperor,” said the Russian; ”and hearing from my friend the Duke de Brignolles that you have just given him this newspaper, that he might obtain the translation of a pa.s.sage in it which concerns Lady Glencore, and have the explanation read out at her own carriage, publicly, before all the world, I desire to tell you that your Lords.h.i.+p is unworthy of your rank; that you are an _infame!_ and if you do not resent this, a _polisson!_”

”This man is mad, Selby,” said the short man, with the coolest air imaginable.

”Quite sane enough to give your friend a lesson in good manners; and you too, sir, if you have any fancy for it,” said the Russian.

”I'd give him in charge to the police, by Jove! if there were police here,” said the same one who spoke before; ”he can't be a gentleman.”

”There 's my card, sir,” said the Russian; ”and for you too, sir,” said he, presenting another to him who spoke.

”Where are you to be heard of?” said the short man.

”At the Russian legation,” said the Prince, haughtily, and turned away.

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