Harper cudgelled his still dazed brain, and finding none, shook hishead.
"No, your Grace."
"Then you may go."
The man bowed himself out, clutching his guineas. He was comparatively anewcomer in his Grace's service, and he was by no means accustomed tothe Duke's lightning method of conducting his affairs. He was not surethat he quite appreciated it. But fifty guineas were fifty guineas.
CHAPTER XXI
MRS. FANSHAWE LIGHTS A FIRE AND O'HARA FANS THE FLAME
Richard Carstares very soon availed himself of Mrs. Fanshawe'spermission to call upon her, and duly put in an appearance at No. 16,Mount Street. He found the house very tastefully appointed, the sisterelderly and good-natured, and the widow herself an excellent hostess.The first time he called he was not the only visitor; two ladies whom hedid not know and a young cousin were already there, and later, a bowingacquaintance, Mr. Standish, also arrived. Seeing that he would have noopportunity to talk with the widow on the subject of his brother, hevery soon took his leave, promising to wait upon her again at no verydistant date. When, three days later, he again sent in his name and wasadmitted, he found the lady alone, and was gratified to hear her orderthe servant to deny her to all other visitors.
He bowed over her hand and hoped she was well.
Mrs. Fanshawe drew him down beside her on the settee.
"I am very well, Mr. Carstares. And you?"
"Also," he smiled, but his looks belied his words.
She told him so, laughing, and he pleaded a worried week.
"Well, sir, I presume you did not come to talk to me about your health,but about my friend--eh?"
"I assure--"
"Remember, no vapid compliments!" she besought.
"Then, madam, yes. I want to hear about--Ferndale. You see, I--likeyou--took a great interest in him."
She sent him a shrewd glance, and nodded.
"Of course. I will tell you all I know, Mr. Carstares, but it is notvery much, and maybe you will be disappointed. But I only knew him theshort time we were both in Vienna, and--he was not very communicative."
"Ah!--he did not confide in you, madam?"
"No. If one attempted to draw his confidence, he became a politeiceberg."
"Nevertheless, madam, please tell me all that you know."
"It will not take long, I fear. I met him in '48 at Vienna, in thePrater, where I was walking with my husband, who had come to Vienna forhis health. I chanced to let fall my reticule when Sir Anthony waspassing us, and he picked it up, speaking the most execrable German."She smiled a little at the remembrance. "Mr. Fanshawe, who had thegreatest dislike for all foreigners, was overjoyed to hear the Englishaccent. He induced Sir Anthony to continue his walk with us, andafterwards he called at our lodgings. I think he, too, was glad to meeta fellow-countryman, for he came often, and once when I had been talkingwith him for some time he let fall--what shall I say?--his reserve--hisguard--and told me that he had scarcely spoken his own language for fouryears. Afterwards he seemed to regret having said even that much, andturned the subject." She paused and looked up to see if her auditor wasinterested.
"Yes, yes?" urged Richard. "And then?"
"I do not remember. He came, as I said, often, mostly to talk to myhusband, who was a great invalid, but sometimes to see me. He wouldhardly ever speak of England--I think he did not trust himself. He nevermentioned any relations or any English friends, and when I spoke ofhome, he would shut his mouth very tightly, and look terribly sad. Isaw that for some reason the subject pained him, so I never spoke of itif I could help it.
"He was a most entertaining companion, Mr. Carstares; he used to tell myhusband tales that made him laugh as I had not heard him laugh formonths. He was very lively, very witty, and almost finickingly welldressed, but what his occupation was I could not quite ascertain. Hesaid he was a gentleman of leisure, but I do not think he was at allwealthy. He frequented all the gaming houses, and I heard tales of hismarvellous luck, so one day I taxed him with it, and he laughed and saidhe lived by Chance--he meant dice. Yet I know, for I once hadconversation with his servant, that his purse was at times very, veryslender."
"The time he aided you, Mrs. Fanshawe, when was that?"
She flushed.
"That was a few months after we first met him. I was--foolish; mymarried life was not--very happy, and I was--or, rather, I fanciedmyself--in love with an Austrian nobleman, who--who--well, sir, sufficeit that I consented to dine with him one evening. I found then that hewas not the _galant homme_ I had thought him, but something quitedifferent. I do not know what I should have done had not Sir Anthonyarrived."
"He did arrive then?"
"Yes. You see, he knew that this Austrian had asked me to dine--I toldhim--and he counselled me to refuse. But I--well, sir, I have told you,I was young and very foolish--I would not listen. When he called at ourhouse and found that I was out, he at once guessed where I had gone, andhe followed me to the Count's house, gave an Austrian name, and wasannounced just as the Count tried to--tried to--kiss me. I think I shallnever forget the relief of that moment! He was so safe, and so English!The Count was furious, and at first I thought he would have his lackeysthrow Anthony out. But when he heard all that Anthony had to say, herealised that it was useless to try to detain me--and I was taken home.Anthony was very kind--he did not scold, neither had he told my husband.Two days after, he and the Count fought a duel, and the Count waswounded in the lung. That was all. But it made me very grateful to himand interested in his affairs. Mr. Fanshawe left Vienna a few weeksafter that, and I have never seen my _preux chevalier_ since." Shesighed and looked steadily across at Carstares. "And you--you are solike him!"