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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Marie," she said, "you were attending upon the Countess Radantz to-night?" "Yes, my lady." "At what time did she leave?" "At about, eleven, my lady." "Alone?" "Yes, my lady." Lady Carey looked steadily at the girl. "Did she take anything with her?" The girl hesitated. Lady Carey frowned. "It must be the truth, remember, Marie." "Certainly, my lady! She took her small dressing-case."
"It is easy to talk," she said, "but you will not find it easy to keep Victor away when he has found out where I am." The Prince intervened. "We have no objection to your meeting," he said, "but it must be as acquaintances. There must be no intermission or slackening in your task, and that can only be properly carried out by the Countess Radantz and from Dorset House."
"She is sixty if she is a day. But I daresay she herself is not the attraction. There is a very beautiful woman staying with her the Countess Radantz. A Hungarian, I believe." Mr. Sabin sat quite still. His face was turned away from Helene. She herself was smiling out of the window at some acquaintances. "I wonder if there is anything more that I can tell you?" she asked presently.
"You left America," Passmore said, "in search of your wife, formerly Countess of Radantz, who had left you unexpectedly." "It is true!" Mr. Sabin answered. "Madame la Duchesse on reaching London became the guest of the Duchess of Dorset, where she has been staying since. Whilst there she has received many visits from Mr. Reginald Brott." Mr. Sabin's face was as the face of a sphinx.
Reginald Brott is in the small drawing-room, your Grace," he announced. "He enquired for the Countess Radantz." Lucille rose. When the servant had disappeared she turned round for a moment, and faced the Prince. A spot of colour burned in her cheeks, her eyes were bright with anger. "I shall remember your words, Prince," she said.
My wife, Countess of Radantz, and sole representative of that ancient family, has been one all her life." The Emperor inclined his head towards Lucille. "I see no reason," he said, "when our capitals are riddled with secret societies, all banded together against us, why the great families of Europe should not in their turn come together and display a united front against this common enemy.
"I shall never, be able to believe," he said, "that the Countess Radantz was able to do more than support existence in a small American town without society, with no scope for her ambitions, detached altogether from the whole civilized world." "Which only goes to prove, Prince," Lucille remarked contemptuously, "that you do not understand me in the least.
"I find," he said, as they lit their cigarettes, "that I committed an indiscretion the other day at Camperdown House!" Mr. Sabin assumed the puzzled air of one endeavouring to pin down an elusive memory. "Let me see," he murmured doubtfully. "It was in connection with " "The Countess Radantz. If you remember, I told you that it was her desire just now to remain incognito.
I want your assurance. I want her promise. You understand me?" "Yes, I understand you," the Prince said gravely. "I understand more than you do. I understand Lucille's position." Brott leaned forward with bright eyes. "Ah!" "Lucille, the Countess of Radantz, is at the present moment a married woman." Brott was speechless. His face was like a carved stone image, from which the life had wholly gone.
"Thank you," she said. "I have no wish to hear it. I do not believe in what you call freedom for the people. I have discovered in America how uncomfortable a people's country can be." "Yet you married an American. You call yourself still the Countess Radantz... but you married Mr. James B. Peterson!" "It is true, my friend," she answered.
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