“This is the happiest day I have ever passed in this house,” said the Countess. “I am glad that my last days in it have been connected with such a series of happy events.”
“Why,” cried Vivienne, “are you not going to live in Paris?”
“No,” said the Countess, “I have already made arrangements to sell the house. I am going back to Corsica to live. I may never see you again, but you must write and tell me how happy you are, and your letters will be a great solace to me.”
“But you must come and see us,” said Bertha, “after we settle down in England.”
“No,” said the Countess, decidedly, “after I go back to Corsica I shall never leave it again. But we must not talk any more about my travels, which are of little consequence. The carriage will be here in half an hour to take you to the station. Lieutenant Della Coscia’s furlough expires day after to-morrow, and he must be in Portsmouth to meet the Admiral. Is it not so, Monsieur Lieutenant?”
“You have spoken the truth, Countess,” said Vandemar. “We have had our days of pleasure, and now for me come days of duty.”
The Countess did not break down when the moment for parting came. “You have my blessing,” she said, almost gaily; “life is bright for you, and I feel glad that I have in some small degree contributed to your happiness. Don’t forget to write to me,” were her last words as they descended the steps to enter the waiting carriage.
When Lieutenant and Madame Della Coscia and Mr. and Mrs. John De Vinne—or as we should have said Lord and Lady De Vinne—arrived at Portsmouth they learned that Admiral Enright was away on leave. About a fortnight previous to their arrival, the Admiral, accompanied by his daughter, had gone to his estate in Devonshire.
An officer of the Osprey, who was staying at the same hotel with the married couples, informed Vandemar and Jack that the Admiral’s leave would expire in three days, and that he would surely return by that time.
The young gentlemen and their wives were on their honeymoons, and the delay made little difference to them.