Lord Kilgobbin Part 85

'He is not really, my lord; but he tells me that we must all go through this stage. It is, as he says, like a course of those waters whose benefit is exactly in proportion to the way they disagree with you at first. He even said, one evening before he went away, "Take my word for it, Lady Maude, we shall be burning these apostles of ballot and universal suffrage in effigy one day; but I intend to go beyond every one else in the meanwhile, else the rebound will lose half its excellence."'

'What is this?' cried he, as the servant entered with a telegram. 'This is from Athens, Maude, and in cipher, too. How are we to make it out.'

'Cecil has the key, my lord. It is the diplomatic cipher.'

'Do you think you could find it in his room, Maude? It is possible this might be imminent.'

'I shall see if he is at home,' said she, rising to ring the bell. The servant sent to inquire returned, saying that Mr. Walpole had dined abroad, and not returned since dinner.

'I'm sure you could find the book, Maude, and it is a small square-shaped volume, bound in dark Russia leather, marked with F. O. on the cover.'

'I know the look of it well enough; but I do not fancy ransacking Cecil's chamber.'

'I do not know that I should like to await his return to read my despatch.

I can just make out that it comes from Atlee.'

'I suppose I had better go, then,' said she reluctantly, as she rose and left the room.

Ordering the butler to precede and show her the way, Lady Maude ascended to a storey above that she usually inhabited, and found herself in a very s.p.a.cious chamber, with an alcove, into which a bed fitted, the remaining s.p.a.ce being arranged like an ordinary sitting-room. There were numerous chairs and sofas of comfortable form, a well-cushioned ottoman, smelling, indeed, villainously of tobacco, and a neat writing-table, with a most luxurious arrangement of shaded wax-lights above it.

A singularly well-executed photograph of a young and very lovely woman, with ma.s.ses of loose hair flowing over her neck and shoulders, stood on a little easel on the desk, and it was, strange enough, with a sense of actual relief, Maude read the word t.i.tian on the frame. It was a copy of the great master's picture in the Dresden Gallery, and of which there is a replica in the Barberini Palace at Rome; but still the portrait had another memory for Lady Maude, who quickly recalled the girl she had once seen in a crowded a.s.sembly, pa.s.sing through a murmur of admiration that no conventionality could repress, and whose marvellous beauty seemed to glow with the homage it inspired.

Sc.r.a.ps of poetry, copies of verses, changed and blotted couplets, were scrawled on loose sheets of paper on the desk; but Maude minded none of these, as she pushed them away to rest her arm on the table, while she sat gazing on the picture.

The face had so completely absorbed her attention--so, to say, fascinated her--that when the servant had found the volume he was in search of, and presented it to her, she merely said, 'Take it to my lord,' and sat still, with her head resting on her hands, and her eyes fixed on the portrait.

'There may be some resemblance, there may be, at least, what might remind people of "the Laura "--so was it called; but who will pretend that _she_ carried her head with that swing of lofty pride, or that _her_ look could rival the blended majesty and womanhood we see here! I do not--I cannot believe it!'

'What is it, Maude, that you will not or cannot believe?' said a low voice, and she saw Walpole standing beside her.

'Let me first excuse myself for being here,' said she, blushing. 'I came in search of that little cipher-book to interpret a despatch that has just come. When Fenton found it, I was so engrossed by this pretty face that I have done nothing but gaze at it.'

'And what was it that seemed so incredible as I came in?'

'Simply this, then, that any one should be so beautiful.'

't.i.tian seems to have solved that point; at least, Vasari tells us this was a portrait of a lady of the Guicciardini family.'

'I know--I know that,' said she impatiently; 'and we do see faces in which t.i.tian or Velasquez have stamped n.o.bility and birth as palpably as they have printed loveliness and expression. And such were these women, daughters in a long line of the proud Patricians who once ruled Rome.'

'And yet,' said he slowly, 'that portrait has its living counterpart.'

'I am aware of whom you speak: the awkward angular girl we all saw at Rome, whom young gentlemen called the Tizziana.'

'She is certainly no longer awkward, nor angular, now, if she were once so, which I do not remember. She is a model of grace and symmetry, and as much more beautiful than that picture as colour, expression, and movement are better than a lifeless image.'

'There is the fervour of a lover in your words, Cecil,' said she, smiling faintly.

'It is not often I am so forgetful,' muttered he; 'but so it is, our cousinship has done it all, Maude. One revels in expansiveness with his own, and I can speak to you as I cannot speak to another.'

'It is a great flattery to me.'

'In fact, I feel that at last I have a sister--a dear and loving spirit who will give to true friendship those delightful traits of pity and tenderness, and even forgiveness, of which only the woman's nature can know the needs.'

Lady Maude rose slowly, without a word. Nothing of heightened colour or movement of her features indicated anger or indignation, and though Walpole stood with an affected submissiveness before her, he marked her closely.

'I am sure, Maude,' continued he, 'you must often have wished to have a brother.'

'Never so much as at this moment!' said she calmly--and now she had reached the door. 'If I had had a brother, Cecil Walpole, it is possible I might have been spared this insult!'

The next moment the door closed, and Walpole was alone.

CHAPTER LXVI

ATLEE'S MESSAGE

'I am right, Maude,' said Lord Danesbury as his niece re-entered the drawing-room. 'This is from Atlee, who is at Athens; but why there I cannot make out as yet. There are, according to the book, two explanations here.

491 means a white dromedary or the chief clerk, and B + 49 = 12 stands for our envoy in Greece or a snuffer-dish.'

'Don't you think, my lord, it would be better for you to send this up to Cecil? He has just come in. He has had much experience of these things.'

'You are quite right, Maude; let Fenton take it up and beg for a speedy transcript of it. I should like to see it at once!'

While his lordship waited for his despatch, he grumbled away about everything that occurred to him, and even, at last, about the presence of the very man, Walpole, who was at that same moment engaged in serving him.

'Stupid fellow,' muttered he, 'why does he ask for extension of his leave?

Staying in town here is only another name for spending money. He'll have to go out at last; better do it at once!'

'He may have his own reasons, my lord, for delay,' said Maude, rather to suggest further discussion of the point.

'He may think he has, I've no doubt. These small creatures have always scores of irons in the fire. So it was when I agreed to go to Ireland.

There were innumerable fine things and clever things he was to do. There were schemes by which "the Cardinal" was to be cajoled, and the whole Bar bamboozled. Every one was to have office dangled before his eyes, and to be treated so confidentially and affectionately, under disappointment, that even when a man got nothing he would feel he had secured the regard of the Prime Minister! If I took him out to Turkey to-morrow, he'd never be easy till he had a plan "to square" the Grand-Vizier, and entrap Gortschakoff or Miliutin. These men don't know that a clever fellow no more goes in search of rogueries than a foxhunter looks out for stiff fences. You "take them"

when they lie before you, that's all.' This little burst of indignation seemed to have the effect on him of a little wholesome exercise, for he appeared to feel himself better and easier after it.

'Dear me! dear me!' muttered he, 'how pleasant one's life might be if it were not for the clever fellows! I mean, of course,' added he, after a second or two, 'the clever fellows who want to impress us with their cleverness.'

Maude would not be entrapped or enticed into what might lead to a discussion. She never uttered a word, and he was silent.

It was in the perfect stillness that followed that Walpole entered the room with the telegram in his hand, and advanced to where Lord Danesbury was sitting.

'I believe, my lord, I have made out this message in such a shape as will enable you to divine what it means. It runs thus: "_Athens, 5th, 12 o'clock. Have seen S----, and conferred at length with him. His estimate of value_" or "_his price_"--for the signs will mean either--"_to my thinking enormous. His reasonings certainly strong and not easy to rebut_." That may be possibly rendered, "_demands that might probably be reduced._" "_I leave to-day, and shall be in England by middle of next week._--ATLEE."'

Walpole looked keenly at the other's face as he read the paper, to mark what signs of interest and eagerness the tidings might evoke. There was, however, nothing to be read in those cold and quiet features.

'I am glad he is coming back,' said he at length. 'Let us see: he can reach Ma.r.s.eilles by Monday, or even Sunday night. I don't see why he should not be here Wednesday, or Thursday at farthest. By the way, Cecil, tell me something about our friend--who is he?'