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You come here to enter into a most solemn, I may say a sacred, contract, and you are not able to answer to your names; it is disgraceful." "Indeed I am, sir; my name is Matilda, that's the English of it, but my poor mother kept company with a Frenchman, and he would have me christened Matilde; but it is all the same, it is the same name, indeed it is, sir.
It seems to me that I should see her at night, in the dark corners, when I should be alone. Ugh!" Matilde Macomer shivered suddenly, and then stared at Bosio with frightened eyes. He glanced at her nervously. "I am afraid of you," he said. "Of me?" Her presence of mind returned.
I have been saved by a miracle, but you shall not try to murder me again so I am going away." Macomer had listened to the end, his face working horribly and his hands grasping the head of the couch. When Veronica paused, his head fell forward as he stood. Even Matilde could not speak, for a moment.
Matilde put her feet to the ground and slowly rose to her feet while Veronica was speaking. Then she laid her two hands upon the girl's shoulders and stared into her face. "Do you dare to accuse me of trying to poison you?" she asked in a low, fierce voice. "Take your hands from me!" cried Veronica, thrusting her back. "Call your husband. I will accuse you both you and him."
But I think our ultras are acting more from jealousy than from party spite." "I have a great mind to go and get Mademoiselle Piombo's easel and place it next to mine," said Matilde Roguin. She rose, but second thoughts made her sit down again. "With a character like hers," she said, "one can't tell how she would take a civility; better wait events."
What I wrote that evening, I cannot now recollect, as my mind was uncommonly agitated; but my customary way was to note down briefly his orders in this manner: 1 d salts, St. Matilde. 1 blister, St. Geneviere, &c. &c. I remember that I wrote three such orders that evening, and then, having finished the rounds, I returned for a few minutes to the sitting-room.
Here Sarah Bernhardt had ordered a dozen bottles of famous old wine to be sent to the Avenue Pereire from the cellars of Frisio, and had fallen in love with a cat from Greece. Here Matilde Serao had penned a lasting testimony to the marital fidelity of her husband. Everything everything had happened here, just here, at Frisio's.
But the footman had hardly delivered his answer, and Bosio was in the act of turning, when one of the two masked doors under the pictures opened suddenly, and Matilde spoke into the room, calling him by name. He turned pale and stopped short, as though a cold hand had taken him by the throat. The footman went out to the hall, as Bosio met Matilde's eyes.
If he had not loved Matilde Macomer still, he would have turned even then and spoken the truth, come what might. But that remained.
For the rest he spared neither Matilde nor any one else, but told Don Teodoro all the truth, and all his anxious fears for Veronica's safety, if he should not marry her, with all his horror of his own shame if he should yield to the pressure brought upon him. Don Teodoro's expression changed more than once while he listened, but he never turned his head nor moved in his seat.
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