For answer she drew her fingers once or twice across the feathers of her fan, and let her eyes travel slowly up from that pretty toy to his face, taking in as they did so the smallest detail of his appearance, from the thin long-fingered hands, that hung down so quietly between his knees, the dead gold of the one ring he wore with its blazing ruby, to the tiny red rosette of an officer of the Legion of Honour that decorated his correct evening costume. As she raised her eyes still higher they met his, and for an infinitesimal space of time held hers captive; then she dropped them again, and sinking back against the cushions of her chair, raised the feather fan until it rested against her lips. Her voice was quiet when she replied, though a fine ear might have caught a suspicion of fear in it:
"You flatter me, Count Mellikoff; to be considered above one's world in virtue or in vice is always a distinction, if not always an honour. Pray in what indiscretion can I be of help to you?"
"I will tell you frankly, mademoiselle, that I am visiting this country for two purposes and in two characters. It has struck me that as one part of my work is that of reparation, a woman of my own world, of quick perceptions, nice judgment, and unerring instinct might, and could, materially assist me in my self-imposed task. I know the generosity of women, and I know how quick they are to respond to any tale of wrong or outrage; perhaps it is the very conventionalities of their lives which hedge them in, from birth to marriage, that increases their spontaneous desire to see wrongs righted, and the criminal brought to justice. I do not know, that is a question of analysis into which I cannot enter; I may have my theories, but need not bore you with them. The result of the present system is made plain to me by the women of my own country, where no rule or restriction is ever relaxed on any pretence, and where the world and the world's dogmas are worshipped with a blind and absolute faith. And yet, mademoiselle, even there I have known the fairest and highest born women, when occasion required, shake off the chains of custom and stand forth boldly in defence of right and justice."
"That, Count Mellikoff, it seems to me any woman would do, no matter what her nationality, if the object of her enthusiasm was worthy in her eyes. It is not to an American girl that you should plead for liberty of thought and action, since we have grown up upon the very soil that once was baptized in blood, shed by our forefathers to gain this very freedom of opinion."
"It is a grand country," replied Vladimir, slowly, and without banter or sarcasm in his tone, "I admire it already, though as yet but a stranger, and it is for that very reason that I shrink from one part of my task. Mademoiselle, when one has been courteously received, and hospitably entertained, one hesitates to strike a blow at those who have so trusted one. The Arabs read us a lesson in moral ethics, which we children of a latter-day civilisation would do well to follow. He who breaks bread with the child of the desert is ever after protected by him and his tribe. Not so with us, treachery is our watchword, ingratitude our pass key."
He spoke somewhat bitterly, though without changing his position or expression, and Miss James, as she looked searchingly at him, could discover no corresponding reflexion of words in face or eyes.
"Has your experience been of such a character?" she asked, a little abruptly.
"Both my experience and actions will bear me out in my asseverations," he replied; and then in rather a lighter tone he continued: "It is rather the fault of our nineteenth century progress, mademoiselle, that we have neither time nor inclination for the old-fashioned courtesies and amenities of our grandsires' days; we make boast of our honesty and truth, it is true, and we are brutal often in enforcing these virtues; we cry out against and disclaim the gentler methods, and say with satisfied arrogance that fine phrases have no truth, polite aphorisms no depth; well, perhaps we are right, but for my part I prefer a well-turned and politely-worded lie, knowing it to be such, than the brute force of to-day's truthfulness. Honesty and honour have such elastic definitions, it is difficult to know where the one degenerates into mendacity, or the other becomes contention.
"Let us, however, leave useless analysis, mademoiselle, and with your permission, I will become personal. I am selfish in doing so, because I desire to interest you in myself and my work."
He drew back a little as he spoke, and lifted his arms from his knees, bringing his face more on a level with hers. Rosalie watched him with the same indefinable interest and fascination that had first subdued her. She did not speak, but her eyes sought his and rested there, and the heavy golden flower upon her bosom rose and sank hurriedly.