The Yellow Flag: A Novel. Volume 3 (of 3)Yates, Edmund
General
The Yellow Flag: A Novel. Volume 3 (of 3)
Yates, Edmund
Fiction
'You will let me know when you have fixed upon a spot, will you not?'
he said. 'I am going out of town for some shooting, but I shall not be
more than a month away; and I should like to carry with me the thought
that the renewal of an acquaintance so dear to me is not a mere
temporary measure.'
His manner was as earnest and as gallant as before, and his eyes were
as expressive as his words; but Pauline still answered him coldly:
'You shall have a line from me stating where I have pitched my tent if
you will tell me where to send it.'
He gave her his address in South Audley-street; and as there was
nothing more to be done, rose and took his leave. As he bade her adieu
he once more raised her hand to his lips, and reiterated his hope of
speedily hearing from her.
Pauline walked to the window, and looked out after him. She heard his
retreating footsteps, but it was too dark to see his figure. Then, as
she turned away, her face was set and rigid, and she muttered to
herself; 'Connu, monsieur! connu! Though I was very nearly being taken
in by your bland manner and the softly sympathetic voice in which you
spoke of those old memories. If it had not been for that sly look at
the corner of your eyes, which you always had, and which I recognised
at once when you spoke of the subject in which you were really
interested, I might have imagined that it was on my account you had
taken the trouble to ride out here, that to renew your friendship with
me was the one great wish of your life. It is all plain to me now. He
has seen Alice, and is dying for an introduction to her. He tried, to
avail himself of the circumstance of the house being to let, was
baffled for the moment when he recognised me, but had sufficient
mother-wit to enable him to concoct a story by which I was so nearly
taken in. I, with whom all vanity ought to have died out years ago,
whose knowledge of the world ought to have led me at once to suspect
the hollowness of Monsieur Wetter's profession!
'He wants an introduction to Alice, that is it undoubtedly; and for
what end? He is amazingly changed, this garçon! He is no longer
lymphatic, romantic in the highest degree, mawkish, or Teutonic; he
rides on horseback, and affects the air of conquest. There is about
him a smack of the gallant, of the coureur des dames. He is a man whom
Alice would not like, but still it is as well that she did not see him
at this particular time. He is going out of town, he said; and when he
comes back we shall have moved into another house, our change of
address will not be recorded in the fashionable newspapers, and, as I
shall take care that it is not sent to Monsieur Wetter at South
Audley-street, it is probable that he will know nothing about it. And
so,' she added, drawing down the blinds as she heard Alice's footsteps
on the stairs, 'bon soir, Monsieur Wetter.'
And for his own part, Mr. Wetter, as he rode back to London, was full
of his reflections.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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