The Chronicles of a Gay GordonGordon, J. M. (Joseph Maria)
History
The Chronicles of a Gay Gordon
Gordon, J. M. (Joseph Maria)
Generals -- England -- Biography; Gordon, J. M. (Joseph Maria), 1856-1929
"Louise, ma cherie, ou etes vous?"
It was Gustave. He drew apart the silken curtains separating the hall
from the dining-room. "Voila, je suis retourne. Mais ... mon Dieu!"
As the curtains were drawn Louise rose from the arm of the chair (I at
once rose also), and in the sweetest tones, speaking in English, Louise
said: "My dear Gustave. What a pleasant surprise. No? Oh, yes, for me! I
thought you would not return till the day after to-morrow. So! No? Let me
introduce to you my friend, an English officer. He has been so polite to
me at our _fete_ to-night."
Gustave and I stood facing each other; we had no need for introductions.
Gustave was the bachelor brother of my prospective father-in-law. He
happened also to be a particular friend of Louise's. I knew him and he
knew me. We looked calmly at each other. He was twice my age; it was not
for me to speak. The piece was set as if for a dramatic scene--Louise, in
her charming deshabille; my humble self, silent but unabashed; Gustave,
practically in possession of the situation. The moment was a critical
one, but though Nemesis had arrived it was not the Nemesis with a flaming
sword; it was the Nemesis with a somewhat more dangerous weapon, that of
French politeness, which scorns to provoke personal quarrels in the
presence of ladies but awaits to obtain reparation in good time in
accordance with the code of honour.
Bowing low to Louise and looking at me straight in the face, Gustave
politely remarked, "It happens that I am acquainted with monsieur the
English lieutenant. I regret that I have intruded and disturbed your
_tete-a-tete_ at such an hour of the morning. Pray forgive me, Louise. I
have no doubt monsieur the lieutenant and I will meet by and by. N'est-ce
pas, monsieur le lieutenant? Good night to you both." And, as Louise
moved, Gustave added, "Please, oh, please, do not bother. I know my way
out quite well. Au revoir." He drew the curtains aside and, turning
towards us, made the politest of bows and was gone.
"Louise," I said, as I took her hands in mine, "it is all my fault. Can
you forgive me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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