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But I quite agree with you both.... I'm beginning to want my tea, Mr. Stratton.... Rachel!" Her eyes had been on Rachel as she chattered. The girl had turned to the distant hills again, and had forgotten even to pretend to listen to the answer she had evoked. Now she came back sharply to the sound of her name. "Tea?" said the Fürstin. "Oh!" cried Rachel. "Yes. Yes, certainly. Rather. Tea."
Fürst Shtcherbatsky, sammt Gemahlin und Tochter, by the apartments they took, and from their name and from the friends they made, were immediately crystallized into a definite place marked out for them. There was visiting the watering-place that year a real German Fürstin, in consequence of which the crystallizing process went on more vigorously than ever.
"Maundering about," she was saying, "like a huntsman without a horse.... You've got work to do blood in your veins. I'm not one of your ignorant women, Stephen. You ought to have a wife...." "Rachel's too good," I said, at the end of a pause and perceiving I had to say something, "to be that sort of wife." "No woman's too good for a man," said the Fürstin von Letzlingen with conviction.
I wonder if in all decent law-abiding London there lives a single healthy adult man who has not at times longed to trample and kill.... For once I think the Fürstin miscalculated consequences.
How strange it seems that she of whom we write is dust and less than dust below the fertile soil of her so beloved Prussia Furstin Lieberwurst zu Schweinen-Kalber! Can you not rise from the grave once more to charm us with the magic of your voice? Are those deep, mellowed tones, so sonorous and appealing, never to be heard again? Ah, me! Why, indeed, should such divinity be so short lived?
Stephen, you're disgusting. You've absolutely spoilt this trip for me absolutely. When only a little reasonableness on your part Oh!" She left her sentence unfinished. Berwick and I had to make any conversation that was needed on the way back to Boppard. Rachel did not talk and the Fürstin did not want to. Directly I had parted from Rachel's questioning eyes I wanted to go back to them.
Then she turned with a smiling and undisturbed countenance to the Fürstin. Her crimson had given place to white. "The triumph of it," she said with a slight gesture to the flamboyant Teutonism that towered over us, and boldly repeating words I had used scarcely five minutes before, "makes me angry. They conquered ungraciously...."
The Fürstin fell behind with her unwilling escort, a newly arrived medical student from England, a very pleasant youngster named Berwick, who was all too obviously anxious to change places with me.
I disregarded a note of dissent from my cousin. "That was all so magic, all my youth, all my hope, all the splendid adventure of it. Why should one pretend?... I'm giving none of that to Rachel. It isn't there any more to give...." "One would think," remarked the Fürstin, "there was no gift of healing."
Across the lawn under its trim flowering-trees appeared Berwick loaded with little parcels, and manifestly eager to separate us, and the Fürstin as manifestly putting on the drag. "There's a sort of love," I hurried, "that doesn't renew itself ever. Don't let yourself believe it does. Something else may come in its place, but that is different.
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