She dropped a long-stemmed rose and waited for me to pick it up.

"Thank you," she said. "Oh, did it p.r.i.c.k you?"

"Yes," said I flatly. Then we both gave the closest attention to the end of my thumb while I triumphantly squeezed a tiny drop of blood out of it. I sucked it. The incident was closed. She was no longer interested in the laceration.

"Mr. p.o.o.pend.y.k.e knew how lonely I would be. He telephoned twice a day."

I thought I detected a slight note of pique in her voice. But it was so slight that it was hardly worth while to exult.

"So you thought I had deserted you," I said, and was a little surprised at the gruffness in my voice.

"The violets appeased me," she said, with a smile. For the first time I noticed that she was wearing a large bunch of them. "You will be bankrupt, Mr. Smart, if you keep on buying roses and violets and orchids for me."

So the roses were mine also! I shot a swift glance at the mantelpiece, irresistibly moved by some mysterious force. There were two bowls of orchids there. I couldn't help thinking of the meddling, over-zealous geni that served the hero of Anstey's "Bra.s.s Bottle" tale. He was being outdone by my efficacious secretary.

"But they are lovely," she cried, noting the expression in my face and misconstruing it. "You are an angel."

That was the last straw. "I am nothing of the sort," I exclaimed, very hot and uncomfortable.

"You _are_," was her retort. "There! Isn't it a lovely centre-piece?

Now, you must come and see Rosemary. She adores the new elephant you sent to her."

"Ele--" I began, blinking my eyes. "Oh--oh, yes, yes. Ha, ha! the elephant." Good Heavens, had that idiotic p.o.o.pend.y.k.e started a menagerie in my castle?

I was vastly relieved to find that the elephant was made of felt and not too large to keep Rosemary from wielding it skilfully in an a.s.sault upon the hapless Jinko. She had it firmly gripped by the proboscis, and she was shrieking with delight. Jinko was barking in vain-glorious defence. The racket was terrible.

The Countess succeeded in quelling the disturbance, and Rosemary ran up to kiss me. Jinko, who disliked me because I looked like the Count, also ran up but his object was to bite me. I made up my mind, there and then that if I should ever, by any chance, fall in love with his mistress I would inaugurate the courting period by slaying Jinko.

Rosemary gleefully permitted me to sip honey from that warm little spot on her neck, and I forgot many odious things. As I held her in my arms I experienced a vivid longing to have a child of my own, just like Rosemary.

Our luncheon was not as gay nor as unconventional as others that had preceded it. The Countess vainly tried to make it as sprightly as its predecessors, but gave over in despair in the face of my taciturnity.

Her spirits drooped. She became strangely uneasy and, I thought, preoccupied.

"What is on your mind, Countess?" I asked rather gruffly, after a painful silence of some duration.

She regarded me fixedly for a moment. She seemed to be searching my thoughts. "You," she said very succinctly. "Why are you so quiet, so funereal?" I observed a faint tinge of red in her cheeks and an ominous steadiness in her gaze. Was there anger also?

I apologised for my manners, and a.s.sured her that my work was responsible. But her moodiness increased. At last, apparently at the end of her resources, she announced that she was tired: that after we had had a cigarette she would ask to be excused, as she wanted to lie down. Would I come to see her the next day?

"But don't think of coming, Mr. Smart," she declared, "if you feel you cannot spare the time away from your work."

I began to feel heartily ashamed of my boorishness. After all, why should I expend my unpleasant humour on her?

"My dear Countess," I exclaimed, displaying a livelier interest than at any time before, "I shall be delighted to come. Permit me to add that my work may go hang."

Her face brightened. "But men must work," she objected.

"Not when women are willing to play," I said.

"Splendid!" she cried. "You are reviving. I feel better. If you are going to be nice, I'll let you stay."

"Thanks. I'll do my best."

She seemed to be weighing something in her mind. Her chin was in her hands, her elbows resting on the edge of the table. She was regarding me with speculative eyes.

"If you don't mind what the servants are saying about us, Mr. Smart, I am quite sure I do not."

I caught my breath.

"Oh, I understand everything," she cried mischievously, before I could stammer anything in reply. "They are building a delightful romance around us. And why not? Why begrudge them the pleasure? No harm can come of it, you see."

"Certainly no harm," I floundered.

"The gossip is confined to the castle. It will not go any farther. We can afford to laugh in our sleeves, can't we?"

"Ha, ha!" I laughed in a strained effort, but not into my sleeve. "I rejoice to hear you say that you don't mind. No more do I. It's rather jolly."

"Fancy any one thinking we could possibly fall in love with each other,"

she scoffed. Her eyes were very bright. There was a suggestion of cold water in that remark.

"Yes, just fancy," I agreed.

"Absurd!"

"But, of course, as you say, if they can get any pleasure out of it, why should we object? It's a difficult matter keeping a cook any way."

"Well, we are bosom friends once more, are we not? I am so relieved."

"I suppose p.o.o.pend.y.k.e told you the--the gossip?"

"Oh, no! I had it from my maid. She is perfectly terrible. All French maids are, Mr. Smart. Beware of French maids! She won't have it any other way than that I am desperately in love with you. Isn't she delicious?"

"Eh?" I gasped.

"And she confides the wonderful secret to every one in the castle, from Rosemary down to Jinko."

"'Pon my soul!" I murmured.

"And so now they all are saying that I am in love with you," she laughed. "Isn't it perfectly ludicrous?"

"Perfectly," I said without enthusiasm. My heart sank like lead.

Ludicrous? Was that the way it appeared to her? I had a little spirit left. "Quite as ludicrous as the fancy Britton has about me. He is obsessed by the idea that I am in love with you. What do you think of that?"

She started. I thought her eyes narrowed for a second. "Ridiculous,"

she said, very simply. Then she arose abruptly. "Please ring the bell for Hawkes."

I did so. Hawkes appeared. "Clear the table, Hawkes," she said. "I want you to read all these newspaper clippings, Mr. Smart," she went on, pointing to a bundle on a chair near the window. We crossed the room. "Now that you know who I am, I insist on your reading all that the papers have been saying about me during the past five or six weeks."

I protested but she was firm. "Every one else in the world has been reading about my affairs, so you must do likewise. No, it isn't necessary to read all of them. I will select the most lurid and the most glowing. You see there are two sides to the case. The papers that father can control are united in defending my action; the European press is just the other way. Sit down, please. I'll hand them to you."