Part 45 (1/2)
”No, sir. Go pay your _devoir_ to friends.h.i.+p and courtesy. I have faithful guardians in the two coming yonder to meet me.”
She pointed to the heads of Mr. and Mrs. Waul just visible over the ma.s.s of ruins that intervened, and lifting her handkerchief, waved it twice.
”You have established a system of signal service with those antique ogres, griffons? Really they resemble crouching cougars, ready to spring upon the unwary who dare penetrate to the sacred precincts that enclose you. Why do you always travel with that grim body-guard?
Surely they are not relatives?”
”They are faithful old friends who followed me across the Atlantic, who are invaluable, and s.h.i.+eld me from impertinent annoyances, to which all women of my profession are more or less subjected. The world to which you belong sometimes seem disposed to forget that beneath and behind the paint and powder, false hair and fine tragic airs and costumes they pay to strangle time for them at _San Carlo_, or _Teatro de' Fiorentini_ there breathes a genuine human thing; a creature with a true, pure, womanly heart beating under the velvet, gauze, and tinsel, and with blood that now and then boils under unprovoked and dastardly insult. If I were cross-eyed, or had been afflicted with small-pox, or were otherwise disfigured, I should not require Mr. and Mrs. Waul; but Madame Orme, the lonely widow deprived by death of a father's or brother's watchful protection, finds her humble companions a valuable barrier against presumption and insolence. For instance, when strangers, pleased with my carefully practised _jeu de theatre_, send fulsome notes and costly _bijouterie_ to my lodgings, praying in return a lock of my hair or a photograph, my griffons, as you facetiously term them, rarely even consult me, but generally send back the jewels by the bearer, and twist the _billets-doux_ into tapers to light Mr. Waul's pipe.
Sometimes I see them; often I am saved the trouble of knowing anything about the impertinence.”
Her voice was sweet and mellow as a Phrygian flute sounding softly on moonlight nights through acacia and oleander groves, but the scorn burning in her eyes was intolerable, and before it the old man seemed to shrink, while a purplish flush swept across his proud face.
”Mrs. Orme is an anomaly among lovely women, and especially among popular _tragediennes_, and as I am suffering the consequences of that unexpected fact, may I venture, in pleading for pardon, to remind her of that grand prayer: '_Be it my will that my mercy overpower my justice_.' Will she not n.o.bly forgive errors committed in ignorance of the peculiar sensitiveness of her nature, the mimosa delicacy of her admirable character?”
Not until this moment had the likeness between father and son shown itself so conspicuously, and in the handsome features and insinuating, beguiling velvet voice she found sickening resemblances that made her heart surge, until she seemed suffocating. Hastily she loosened the ribbons of her hat that were tied beneath her chin.
”Is General Laurance pleading abstractly for forgiveness for his vain and presumptuous s.e.x?”
”Solely for my own audacious impertinence, which, had I known you, would never have been perpetrated. My rejected emeralds accuse me.
Pardon me, and I will immediately donate them in expiatory offering to some Foundling Asylum, Hospital, or other public charity.”
”If I condone past offences, it must be upon condition that they are never repeated, for leniency is not one of my characteristics.
Hitherto we have been strangers; you are from America the land of my adoption, and have been presented to me as a gentleman, as the friend of my physician. Henceforth consider that your acquaintance with me dates from to-day.”
She suffered him to take her hand, and bow low over it, breathing, volubly his thanks for her goodness, his protestations of profound repentance, and undying grat.i.tude; and all the while she shut her eyes as if to hide some approaching horror,--and the blood in her views seemed to freeze at his touch, gathered like icicles around her aching heart, turning her gradually to stone.
Taking his offered arm, they walked back toward the spot where she had desired her companions to await her return, and as he attempted to a.n.a.lyze the strange perplexing expression on her chiselled white face, he said:
”I trust this delicious climate has fully restored your health?”
”Thank you. I am as well as I hope to be, until I can go home to America, and be once more with my baby.”
”It is difficult to realize that you are a mother. How old is this darling, who steals so many of your thoughts?”
”Oh, quite a large girl now! able to write me long delightful letters; still in memory and imagination she remains my baby, for I have not seen her for nearly seven years.”
”Indeed I you must have married when a mere child?”
”Yes, unfortunately I did, and lost my husband, became a dest.i.tute widow when I was scarcely older than my own daughter now is. Mr.
Waul, this is your countryman, General Laurance; and doubtless you have mutual acquaintances in the United States.”
They proceeded to the carriage, and as he a.s.sisted her to enter it, General Laurance asked:
”Will you grant me the privilege of accompanying you next week to Baiae?”
”I cannot promise that.”
”Then allow me to call upon you to-morrow.”