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Sabin said quietly, "whether the Countess appears to receive your suit with favour?" Mr. Brott hesitated. "I am afraid I cannot go so far as to say that she does," he said regretfully. "I do not know why I find myself talking on this matter to you. I feel that I should apologise for giving such a personal turn to the conversation." "I beg that you will do nothing of the sort," Mr. Sabin protested.
Brott has shown himself quite capable of keeping her at arm's length. I cannot see what further use she is." Lady Carey heard the flutter of skirts outside and rose. "There are wheels within wheels," she remarked. "My dear Lucille, what a charming toilette. We shall have the lady journalists besieging us in our box. Paquin, of course. Good-night, Duchess.
Sabin said, with a certain amount of stiffness. "The Countess is a very dear friend of mine, and you must forgive me now if I say that I prefer not to discuss her any longer." A hall servant entered the room, bearing a note for Mr. Brott. He received it at first carelessly, but his expression changed the moment he saw the superscription. He turned a little away, and Mr.
She sank on her knees by the side of his chair, and her arms fell upon his shoulders. "How can you think so cruelly of me, Victor," she murmured. "You were always a little mistaken in Lucille. She loved you, it is true, but all her life she has been fond of change and excitement. She came to Europe willingly long before this Brott would have been her slave save for your reappearance.
Sabin remarked, "a revolution in this country would possess many interesting features. The common people lack the ferocity of our own rabble, but they are even more determined. I may yet live to see an English Duke earning an honest living in the States." "It depends very much upon Brott," Lady Carey said. "For his own sake it is a pity that he is in love with Lucille." Mr.
I promise you then that my gratitude shall not disappoint you." She bit her lip. "And are you sure," she whispered, "that Lucille is anxious to be won back? She loves intrigue, excitement, the sense of being concerned in important doings. Besides you must have heard what they say about her and Brott. Look at her now. She wears her grass widowhood lightly enough." Mr. Sabin looked across the table.
That desire has never been so strong as at the present moment." The Prince removed his cigar from his mouth and looked grave. "But, my dear Brott," he said, "have you considered the enormous gulf between your views? The Countess owns great hereditary estates, she comes from a family which is almost Royal, she herself is an aristocrat to the backbone.
It is a class against which you have declared war. How can you possibly come together on common ground?" Brott was silent for a moment. Looking at him steadily the Prince was surprised at the change in the man's appearance. His cheeks seemed blanched and his skin drawn.
Brott said, "of that portion of her life concerning which I have asked no questions, but which somehow, whenever I think of it, fills me with a certain amount of uneasiness. I refer to the last three years which the Countess has spent in America." Mr. Sabin looked up, and his lips seemed to move, but he said nothing. Mr. Brott felt perhaps that he was on difficult ground.
Added to that she is living apart from her husband, and is known to be on bad terms with him." Brott as gripping the back of a chair. He was white to the lips. "You don't think," he cried hoarsely. "You can't believe " "No" the Prince answered quickly, "I don't believe anything of the sort. I will tell you as man to man that I believe she wished Mr. Sabin dead. You yourself should know why.
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