Our Own Set Part 19

"Were you really in the garden with Sempaly during the cotillon?" he said hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes," she said trembling.

He gave a little start and shuddered--tottered--then he pulled himself up and flung the newspaper at her feet--at hers--his b.u.t.terfly, his darling!

"Read that," he said.

Von Klinger tried to seize the paper, but Sterzl held him with a firm hand. "Your leniency is out of place," he said dully; "_she_ may read anything."

Zinka read; suddenly she sprang up with a cry of horror and the paper fell out of her hand. Even now she did not understand the matter,--exactly what she was accused of she did not know; only that it was something unwomanly and disgraceful.

"Cecil!" she began, looking into his face, "Cecil...." and then she covered her face, which from white had turned crimson, with her hands.

He meanwhile had felt the absolute innocence of the girl, and was repenting of his rash and cruel wrath.

"Zini," he cried, "forgive me--I was mad with rage--mad." And he tried to put his arm round her. But she held him off.

"Leave me, leave me," she said. "No, I cannot forgive you. Oh Cecil!

if all the newspapers in the world had said you had cheated, for instance--do you think I should have believed them?"

He bent his head before her with a certain reverence: "But this is different, Zini," he said very gently; "I do not say it as an excuse for myself, but it is different. You do not see how different because you are a child--an angel--poor, sweet, little b.u.t.terfly," and he drew her strongly to his breast and laid his lips on the golden head; she however would not surrender and insisted on freeing herself.

"What on earth is going on?" the baroness asked again, for the twentieth time. Getting, even now, no reply, she picked up the newspaper that was lying on the floor, caught sight of the article, read a few lines of it, and broke out into railing complaints of Zinka--enumerating all the sins of which Zinka had been guilty from her earliest years and particularly within her recent memory, and ending with the words: "And you will ruin Cecil yet in his career."

"Be quiet, mother;" said Cecil sternly. "My career is not the present question--we must think of our honor and of her happiness," and leaning over the fragile and trembling form of his sister, he said imploringly:

"Tell me, Zini, exactly what happened."

She had freed herself from his clasp and was standing before him with her arms folded across--rigid though tremulous--and her voice was cold and monotonous as she obeyed him and gave with nave exact.i.tude her short and simple report, blushing as she spoke. When she had ended Cecil drew a deep breath.

"And since that you have heard nothing of Sempaly?" he asked.

"The next morning he sent me a note."

"Zinka, do not be angry with me ... show me that note."

She left the room and soon returned with the letter which she handed to Sterzl. He read it through with great gravity and marked attention then knitting his brows he slowly folded it up and turned it over.

"And you answered him?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And what did you say?"

"Very little--that I was quite prepared to marry him without his brother's consent, but behind his brother's back?--No!"

In the midst of his trouble a flash of pride lighted up Sterzl's weary eyes. "Bravo, Zini!" he murmured, "and he took this answer in silence?"

Zinka paused to think:

"Yes...." she said; "but no.--He sent me a note to the Hotel de l'Europe."

"And what does he say in that?"

"I have not read it yet; it came just at the moment when Gabrielle was at the worst and then I forgot it--but here it is...." and she drew it out of the pocket of her blue serge dress. Sterzl shook his head and glanced with a puzzled air at his sister; then he opened the note. It was as follows:

"My darling little treasure, my haughty indignant little sweetheart:

"Immediately on the receipt of your note I rushed to see you. The porter told me that you were not at home but with your poor little friend Gabrielle. Of course I cannot think of intruding on you there, though I would this day give a few years of my life for a sight of you--for one kiss. Sooner than lose you I am ready to throw up everything. Command and I obey ... but no, I must be wise for us both; I must wait till my affairs are somewhat in order. There is no help for it--I can only ask your forgiveness. I kiss your hands and the hem of your garment--I am utterly unworthy of you, but I love you beyond words.

"Sempaly."

When Sterzl had read this highly characteristic letter he slowly paced the room two or three times, and finally stood still in front of his sister. Then, taking her hand and kissing it fondly, he said:

"Forgive me, Zini--I am really proud of you. You have behaved like an angel ... but he--he is a contemptible sneak."

But this she could not stand. "I do not defend him," she exclaimed vehemently, "but at any rate he loves me, and he understands me.--He, at any rate, would never have suspected me ... and ... and...." But it was in vain that she paused for a word--she could say nothing more in his favor; but she called up all her pride, and holding her head very high she left the room; as soon as she was outside they could hear her sob convulsively.

The baroness rose to follow her, but Cecil stood in her way.

"Where are you going?" he asked sternly.

"To Zinka; I really must make her see what mischief she has done. It is outrageous ... why, at thirteen I should have known better!" Sterzl smiled bitterly:

"Very likely," he said, "but I must beg you to leave Zinka to herself; she is miserable enough without that."

"And are we to submit to her heedlessness without even reproving her for it?" said the baroness indignantly.

"Yes, mother," he said decidedly; "our business now is not to reprove her, but to protect and comfort her."

At this juncture dinner was announced. Sterzl begged the general to remain and dine with them, for he had, he said, several things to talk over with him. He evidently wished above everything to avoid being alone with his mother. Before sitting down he went to Zinka's room to see whether she would not eat at least a little soup; but he came back much distressed.

"She would hardly speak to me," he said; "she is quite beside herself."

And he himself sat in silence, eating nothing, drinking little, crumbling his bread and playing with his napkin. Each time the door opened he looked anxiously round.

The meal was short and uncomfortable; when they had returned to the drawing-room and were drinking their coffee the servant brought Sterzl a letter. Cecil took it hastily, looked at the address, and, not recognizing the writing, at last opened it. It contained only a half-sheet of note-paper, with a cleverly sketched caricature: Sterzl himself as auctioneer, the hammer in one hand a doll in the other, and before him the coroneted heads of Rome. Sterzl at once recognized the likeness, though his lank figure was absurdly exaggerated, and his whole appearance made as grotesque as possible. He only shrugged his shoulders and said indifferently:

"Does any one really think that such a thing as this can hurt or vex me now? Look, general--Sempaly, no doubt, is the ingenious artist of this masterpiece."

The general took the paper, and would have torn it across to prevent Sterzl from examining it any further; but before he could do so Cecil, looking over his shoulder, had s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of his hand.

"There is something written on it!" he said, deciphering the scribble in one corner, in Sempaly's weak, illegible hand-writing: "Mademoiselle Sterzl, going--going--gone--!... Ah! I understand!"

His face grew purple and he breathed with difficulty.

"To send you this is contemptible," cried the general; "Sempaly drew this before he had ever seen Zinka.... I know it, I was present at the time."