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Pushing his plate briskly from him, he demanded with an anxious air, "Can any gentleman inform me what chance there is of the Signora coming?" "No news to-day," said the Baron, with a mournful look; "I am almost in despair. What do you think of the last notes that have been interchanged?" "Very little chance," said the Chevalier de Boeffleurs, shaking his head.
George has agreed to come." "Yes?" "De Boeffleurs leaves Ems next week. It is sooner than he expected, and I wish to have a quiet evening together before he goes. I should be very vexed if you were not there. We have scarcely been enough together lately. What with the New House in the evening, and riding parties in the morning, and those Fitzloom girls, with whom St.
She complained more than once of her cousin's absence; and this, connected with some other circumstances, gave Vivian the first impression that her feelings towards Mr. St. George were not merely those of a relation. As to the Chevalier de Boeffleurs, Vivian soon found that it was utterly impossible to be on intimate terms with a being without an idea.
In an hour's time, the party again met at dinner in the saloon. By the joint exertions of Ernstorff and Mr. St. George's servants, the Baron, Vivian, and the Chevalier de Boeffleurs were now seated next to the party of Lady Madeleine Trevor. "My horses fortunately arrived from Frankfort this morning," said the Baron. "Mr. St. George and myself have been taking a ride very far up the valley.
No possibility of making any arrangement with Salvinski. Had he won of me as others have done, an arrangement, though painful, would perhaps have been possible; but, by a singular fate, whenever I have chanced to be successful, it is of this man that I have won. De Boeffleurs, then, was the only chance. He was inexorable.
I shall make the communication you desire, and I will endeavour that it shall be credited; as to the transactions of this evening, the knowledge of them can never transpire to the world. It is the interest of De Boeffleurs to be silent; if he speak no one will credit the tale of such a creature, who, if he speak truth, must proclaim his own infamy.
As his Imperial Highness was addressing Vivian, the Baron let slip our hero's arm, and, taking that of the Chevalier de Boeffleurs, began walking up and down the room with him, and was soon engaged in animated conversation.
George," continued Vivian, "I think that you owe the Chevalier de Boeffleurs about four thousand Napoleons, and to Baron von Konigstein something more than half that sum. I have to inform you that it is unnecessary for you to satisfy the claims of either of these gentlemen, which are founded neither in law nor in honour." "Mr.
Grey, what am I to understand?" asked the quiet Chevalier de Boeffleurs, with the air of a wolf and the voice of a lion. "Understand, sir!" answered Vivian, sternly, "that I am not one who will be bullied by a blackleg." "Grey! good God! what do you mean?" asked the Baron. "That which it is my duty, not my pleasure, to explain, Baron von Konigstein."
Grey, you are most fortunate; the Signora has signed and sealed; all is arranged; she sings to-night! What a fine-spirited body is this Frankfort municipality! what elevation of soul! what genuine enthusiasm! eh! de Boeffleurs?" "Most genuine!" exclaimed the Chevalier, who hated German music with all his heart, and was now humming an air from La Dame Blanche.
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