"It is the most extraordinary thing, Monsieur; you will suppose I am a
very peculiar person. It is but a lame explanation I have to offer. Of
that I am but too conscious. But such as it is, I entreat that you
will suffer me to give it you. Monsieur, I am married"--Mr. Lovell
bowed. He did not mention that he was aware of that already--"to the
most capricious husband in the world--to a husband whom I love, but
whom I cannot respect." Mr. Lovell thought that that was good--from
her. "He is a man who is extremely _difficile_, Monsieur. I do not
think you have a word which expresses what I would say in English. He
is extremely jealous; he is enraged that his wife should use the eyes
which are in her head! The very day on which we arrived at Spa we had
a dreadful quarrel. I will not speak of the treatment to which I was
subjected; it is enough to say that he locked the door so that I
should not leave the room--he wished to make of me a prisoner.
Monsieur, directly he was gone, I perceived that there were two doors
to the room--the one which he had locked, and another, which I tried I
found that it was open. Monsieur, when a prisoner desires to escape,
he escapes by any road which offers. I was a prisoner; I desired to
escape; I made use of the only road which I could find. I entered the
door; I found myself in a room in which there was--how shall I say
it?--in which there was a man asleep. Monsieur, it was you!"
It must be owned that at this point the lady certainly did look down.
"I was, that night, in a wicked mood. I glanced at you; I perceived
that you were but a boy"--Mr. Lovell flushed: he did not consider
himself a boy--"but a handsome boy." She peeped at him with malicious
laughter in her eyes. "I regarded myself as your mother, or your
sister, or your guardian angel. Monsieur will perceive how much I am
the elder." Again, a glance of laughing malice from those bewitching
eyes. "I am afraid it is too true that I approached the sleeping
lips." There was silence. Then, so softly that her listener was only
able to catch the words: "I pray that Monsieur will forgive me."
"There is nothing for which Madame needs forgiveness."
"Monsieur but says so to give me pleasure. But one thing Monsieur must
permit me to observe: If every woman were to be rewarded, as I have
been, for what I did, half the women in France would commit--a similar
little indiscretion." Mr. Lovell was silent; he did not know exactly
what to say. "Monsieur will permit me to regard him, from this day
forward, as my friend? Mr. Gerald Lovell, permit me to introduce to
you--the Vicomtesse d'Humieres!"
The lady favoured him with another sweeping curtsey.
"I have already the pleasure of being acquainted with Madame's name."
"From whom did you learn it? From the people at the hotel?"
"I but learned it a few minutes before Madame herself came here."
"So! From whom?"
"I learnt it from the Vicomte d'Humieres."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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