The first part of that hour was charming. Basil never forgot it; the rooms were not crowded, the pictures beautiful, and Lady Amelie in one of her most graceful moods. They both stood before a little gem by one of our first English artists, called "The Coquette"s Decision," a very pretty picture that told its own story. A young girl, standing, half hesitating between two gentlemen. They looked anxious, she smiling and triumphant. She inclined ever so little to the fair-haired youth on the right, her eyes and lips smiling on him, but her hand was extended to his dark-haired rival on the left.
"I do not like that kind of picture," said Basil, "it lowers one"s ideal of woman. I do not think there is one-half so much coquetry in the world as people would make you believe."
"Perhaps you never knew a coquette," she said; and the look she gave him from underneath those long lashes was quite irresistible.
"No," he replied; "indeed, a coquette could never charm me. My ideal of woman is some one as lofty, grand, beautiful and gifted as you."
"Yet there are coquettes," she said, gravely.
"I do not doubt it. I only say there would be no charm for me in the fairest of them all."
Just then two gentlemen entered at the other end of the room, and the slight noise made by their entrance caused Lady Amelie to look up.
Basil, who was watching her every movement, as he always did, attentively, saw her turn very pale and a sudden cloud of fear dimmed the radiance of her eyes.
"Lady Amelie, you are ill!" he cried; "or tired."
"I am tired," she said, and they sat down on one of the seats, placed in the middle of the room. It struck him that she was anxiously trying to conceal herself from observation, yet the idea seemed absurd.
In the meantime, the two gentlemen advanced slowly up the room. They, too, paused before "The Coquette"s Decision," and laughed. Then one, leaving his companion, came hastily to the seat where Lady Amelie was sitting. He held out his hand as though surprised and delighted.
"Lady Amelie!" he said. "I felt sure that I was not mistaken--that it must be you."
There was no answering delight on her face; nothing but constraint, embarra.s.sment and confusion.
"How do you do, Count Jules?" she said, coldly. "This is an unexpected surprise. I thought you had left London for some years."
"L"homme propose, Dieu dispose," said the count. "I only reached England last night, and have hurried to London."
"It is strange that I should meet you here," she said.
"My friend, Monsieur Le Blanc, has a picture here, and I have been criticising it for him."
Then Lady Amelie seemed to remember the laws of politeness, for she introduced the two gentlemen, who looked very unpleasantly at each other.
Basil did not like the count, although at first sight he was certainly a very handsome man, essentially French, with a quick, shrewd, handsome face and dark hair, eyes black as night, yet bright and eloquent. It was those very eyes that Basil disliked; they were not clear, true nor honest. In fact, a sudden hatred to the French count sprang up in his heart, he could not tell how or why. They exchanged a few words, and then, under pretense of drawing Lady Amelie"s attention to a picture, Count Jules said to her:
"Can you not dismiss your young cavalier? I have come to London on purpose to see you--I must speak to you."
"I cannot dismiss him," she said, curtly. "He is not a footman to be sent away at my pleasure. Tell me in few words what you want."
"I want money!" he said, with a very dark frown; "and money, Amelie, I must have."
"I can give you none--you have no conscience. How much have you had already?"
"I have kept no account." he replied; "and really what I have had is not of the least consequence--it is what I have to get."
"That will be nothing from me," she replied. "I gave you a thousand pounds three months ago, and you promised you would ask for no more."
"I did not foresee the present necessity," he said. "Amelie, I must have money."
"Count Jules," said Lady Lisle, "you are a villain, who trades upon a woman"s fears!"
"My charming lady shall call me anything she will, but I must have the money."
"I tell you," she replied, angrily, "that I have not got it, nor is it any use asking my lord for it; he was angry the last time, and I shall ask him no more."
"Then get it from some other source."
"There is no other source open to me," she replied.
The count"s face darkened angrily.
"There need not be so many words about it, Lady Lisle. I must have the money."
"By what right do you incessantly demand money from me?" she asked.
"You promised, in those happier days, to be my friend always; and as a friend you have lent me money often. As a friend, I ask you for it again."
"And as a friend," she retorted, "I refuse."
"Then I shall be obliged to adopt the very unpleasant alternative of asking it from Lord Lisle."
"Lord Lisle would refuse it."
"He would give it to me as the means of purchasing my silence," he said.
"You forget, Lady Amelie, what I have to show Lord Lisle, if he does refuse?"
"You mean my letters?" she said, indignantly. "You are coward enough to threaten me with showing my husband the letters I was so mistaken as to write to you?"
"I should be deeply grieved, indeed," he said, "but I have no other alternative."
"And I mistook you for a gentleman," she said, with calm scorn.
"You were very kind to me, Lady Amelie," he said, with a polite sneer.
"I do not believe you have those letters," she said.
"I have, indeed. I have locked them up with the only two family heirlooms I possess--a watch and a ring--in an ivory casket, and I go nowhere without it."
"You must do your worst!" said Lady Amelie.
"Nay," he said, "I do not wish to do that. My worst would be to bring the honored name of Lady Amelie Lisle into the divorce court, and that I should not like to do. Do not decide hastily. I cannot remain in England very long. Take a week to decide in and let me know when I am to have the money."
She turned from him with the scornful gesture of an outraged queen.
"We shall see," she muttered between her white teeth. "We shall see."
She spoke no other word to him, but went back to her seat. Count Jules bowed and quitted the room.