To Leeward Part 18

"You are very fortunate in getting such a place," she said. "It is by far the most beautiful on the whole sh.o.r.e."

"I wish it belonged to us," said Leonora. "I am sure I could come here every year and never grow tired of it."

"Ah!" exclaimed Diana, "do you like it so very much then?"

"J'en raffole!" answered Leonora enthusiastically, "I am crazy about it.

And then, it is always so charming to have absolutely the best. As you say, there is nothing like this place on the whole bay. I should like always to have the best."

"But, madame," remarked Batis...o...b.., "it appears to me that you always do. You have the talent of supremacy."

"What an idea! The talent of supremacy!"

"But that is precisely it," continued Julius. "It is a talent. Some people are born with it--generally women."

"That is Monsieur Batis...o...b..'s favourite theory," remarked Madame de Charleroi, just glancing at him, "but he does not believe it the least in the world."

"Is it true?" asked Leonora, innocently, looking up with an expression that did not escape Diana. It was a sort of frightened look, as though it really mattered to her what Batis...o...b.. thought about women in general.

"It pleases madame to be witty," answered Julius, glancing in his turn at Diana. "I have not many theories, but I believe in them as a man who is about to be guillotined believes in death."

"One cannot say more than that," laughed Leonora. "But how about the supremacy of men? There have been more men in the world who have ruled it than there have ever been women."

"Mon Dieu! Men give themselves much more trouble," he replied. "Women, having the divine right given to them straight from Heaven, exercise it without difficulty. A word, a cup of tea, a glance,--and the supremacy of a woman is established. What could a man do with a cup of tea? Or, if he looked at people by the hour together, could he rule them with a glance? When a woman has the gift she finds little difficulty in using it,--whereas the more of it a man has, the more trouble it is to him.

Men are so stupid!" And with this sweeping condemnation of his own s.e.x, Julius lit a cigarette, having obtained permission of the two ladies.

"You ought not to have many friends, with such ideas about men," said Leonora.

"En effet," said Diana, "he has none."

"Not among men, at all events," said Julius. "I do not remember ever having any. I do not sleep any the worse on that account, I a.s.sure you.

It is much more agreeable to have a number of pleasant acquaintances, who expect nothing from you and from whom you expect nothing. Friendship implies mutual obligations; I detest that."

Leonora laughed a little. He had such a vicious way of saying such things, as though he thoroughly meant them. But then he was courteous and gentle to every one, though she suspected he might be different if he were angry. Diana knew very well that what he said was true, and that he had led an isolated life among other men, fighting his way through with his own hand and owing no man anything. She herself had for years been his best friend and his only confidant, though he saw her rarely enough. And now she felt as though even that one bond of his were to be broken,--and whether she would or not, the thought gave her pain, and she wished it could be otherwise.

"It is always far more amusing to detest things," said Leonora, "unless you happen to want them." She was forgetting some of her indifferentism.

"It is certainly more blessed to abuse than to be abused," returned Julius, "and, if one has the choice, it is as well to be the hammer and not the anvil. I am an excessively good-natured person, and if I had friends, they would make an anvil of me and beat my brains out,--and then I should starve."

"Good-natured people are always made to suffer," said Leonora thoughtfully. "I am not in the least good-natured."

"I remember," said Diana, "that Mr. Batis...o...b.. used to say good-nature was a mixture of laziness and vulgarity."

"Yes," answered Julius. "You have a good memory, madame. Good-nature is a compound of the laziness that cannot say 'no,' and of the vulgarity which desires to please every one indiscriminately. I suppose I possess both those faults very finely developed."

"Fortunately," remarked Leonora, "goodness and good-nature are not the same."

"Fortunately for you, Marchesa,--unfortunately for me," said Julius.

"It is too complicated--please explain," she answered.

"As you are so fortunate as to possess goodness without good-nature,"

said he, "you should be glad that the two are not one and the same, since good-nature is not a desirable quality. I am good-natured, but not good--I wish I were!"

"Ah, I see!" exclaimed Diana. "It was a compliment."

"Of course," said Julius.

"Of course; but your compliments are often complicated, as the Marchesa says."

Diana smiled as she spoke. Batis...o...b.. knew that she was repaying him for the remark he had made when she had unexpectedly appeared twenty minutes earlier.

"I can only repeat," he retorted, "that Madame de Charleroi has a good memory."

Leonora was puzzled. She saw well enough that Diana and Julius were, or had been, much more intimate than she had supposed. They understood each other at a glance, by a word, and they seemed on the verge of quarrelling politely over nothing. She devoutly wished that Diana would go away, instead of spoiling her afternoon. But Diana leaned back against the rock and crossed her feet and prepared to be comfortable.

She was evidently not going. Batis...o...b.. stood motionless, with the easy stolidity of a very strong man who does not wish to move, and Leonora could see his bold profile against the grey haze of the sky. There was a short silence after his last remark, during which Leonora felt uneasy: something was in the atmosphere that made her anxious, and she did not like the way Diana looked at Batis...o...b.., with an air of absolute superiority, as though she could do anything she pleased with him.

"How dreadfully solemn we are," said Leonora, rather awkwardly. Julius turned quickly with a laugh.

"Let us be gay," he said. "I hate solemnity, unless there is enough of it to make me laugh. I remember being at a ball once that produced that effect."

"Allons!" said Diana, "give us some of your reminiscences, Monsieur Batis...o...b... They ought to be interesting."

"Not so much as you think. But the ball was very funny. It was in Guatemala, three years ago. I was invited to a huge thing by the president--an entirely new president, too, who had just cut the throats of the old president and of all his relations. I believe there was some sort of revolution at the time, and when it was over the victorious individual gave a ball. The refreshments were simple--brandy for the men and rosolio for the ladies; there was no compromise in the shape of a biscuit or a gla.s.s of water."

Leonora laughed, being willing to laugh at anything so as to encourage Julius to talk.

"En verite, that was very amusing," remarked Diana coldly. Batis...o...b.. took no notice.

"The women sat round the room in a double row," he continued, "like a court ball, excepting that they all smoked large cigars, and industriously pa.s.sed the liqueur. The men stood behind and gave their undivided attention to the brandy. Not a soul spoke, and they all scowled fiercely at the brandy, the rosolio, and each other. A ghastly and tuneless quartette of instruments doled out a melancholy dirge, slower than anything you ever heard at a funeral; and now and then some enterprising and funereal man led out a less enterprising but equally melancholy female in a strange step, like the tormented ghost of a waltz in chains. It was so hideous that I went out and laughed till I almost had a fit. I have never thought anything seemed very solemn since then--it destroyed the proportion in my brain. A pauper's burial on a rainy day in London is a wildly gay entertainment compared with that ball."

Leonora laughed, and even Diana smiled; whereupon Julius was satisfied, and relapsed into silence. But Leonora wanted conversation.

"What in the world took you to Guatemala, Mr. Batis...o...b..?" she asked.

"That is a question which I cannot answer, Marchesa," he replied. "I believe I went there for some reason or other--chiefly because I could go for nothing, and wanted to see something new."

"Can you always go to Guatemala for nothing?" asked Leonora. "It must be very amusing."

"A steamer company offered me a free pa.s.sage to any port in their service," said Batis...o...b..; "and as the next ship went to Guatemala, I sailed with her. It happened to be first on the list."

"What a queer idea!" exclaimed Leonora.

"You are too modest, Mr. Batis...o...b..," said Diana. "You ought to tell the whole story--it is very interesting." Her voice was less cold than when she had spoken last.

"Oh, do tell the story!" cried Leonora. "I adore autobiographies!"

"Mon Dieu!" said Julius, "there is very little to tell. I did a service to a ship belonging to the company, and in acknowledgment they presented me with a piece of plate and the free pa.s.sage in question. Voila tout!

madame is too good when she says it was interesting."