Adventure stories; City and town life -- Fiction; Staffordshire (England) -- Fiction
The Countess Ruhl had a large sleigh of her own, also a horse; both were
hired from Montreux. In this vehicle, sometimes alone, sometimes with a
male servant, she would drive at Russian speed over the undulating
mountain roads; and for such expeditions she always wore a large red
cloak with a hood. Often she was thus seen, in the afternoon; the
scarlet made a bright moving patch on the vast expanses of snow. Once,
at some distance from the village, two tale-tellers observed a man on
skis careering in the neighbourhood of the sleigh. It was Captain
Deverax. The flirtation, therefore, was growing warmer and warmer. The
hotels hummed with the tidings of it. But the Countess never said
anything; nor could anything be extracted from her by even the most
experienced gossips. She was an agreeable but a mysterious woman, as
befitted a Russian Countess. Again and again were she and the Captain
seen together afar off in the landscape. Certainly it was a novelty in
flirtations. People wondered what might happen between the two at the
fancy-dress ball which the Hotel Beau-Site was to give in return for the
hospitality of the Hotel Métropole. The ball was offered not in love,
but in emulation, almost in hate; for the jealousy displayed by the
Beau-Site against the increasing insolence and prosperity of the
Métropole had become acute. The airs of the Captain and his lieges, the
Clutterbuck party, had reached the limit of the Beau-Site’s endurance.
The Métropole seemed to take it for granted that the Captain would lead
the cotillon at the Beau-Site’s ball as he had led it at the
Métropole’s.
And then, on the very afternoon of the ball, the Countess received a
telegram—it was said from St. Petersburg—which necessitated her instant
departure. And she went, in an hour, down to Montreux by the funicular
railway, and was lost to the Beau-Site. This was a blow to the prestige
of the Beau-Site. For the Countess was its chief star, and moreover
much loved by her fellow guests, despite her curious weakness for the
popinjay, and the mystery of her outings with him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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