‘Just six weeks, I think.’
‘That’s six weeks too long. Take good care that the next man you engage knows his business.’ The butler bowed and was retiring, when Mrs. Wilson called him back. ‘Stay a minute. You are aware that I am leaving London to-morrow, and may be absent three or four weeks. You had better not engage anyone else until I return.’
‘But, madame, we shall be short-handed, and——’
‘I don’t care whether you are short-handed or not. You will do as I tell you.’
Paul knew that it would be fatal to his interests to attempt to argue with his mistress when she was in a bad temper, so he made his bow and discreetly withdrew.
‘Now, Nathalia,’ said Mrs. Wilson, when the man had left them, ‘away you go upstairs, change your dress and take your father to the concert. You know how disappointed he will be if he doesn’t go, and as I am leaving to-morrow, I don’t wish to see him miserable and unhappy. You know what a sensitive man he is, and though he doesn’t say much, he feels the more.’
This appeal had its effect. Nathalia’s ruffled feelings had smoothed down.
‘Very well, I will go,’ she said; ‘but it’s an awful nuisance having to change my things in a hurry.’
She rang for her maids, and while Mrs. Wilson gave orders that the carriage was to be kept at the door, Nathalia hurried to her room, reappearing in about twenty minutes, looking, as far as personal appearance was concerned, as if nothing had happened, though there was still an expression of worry and concern on her handsome face. Mrs. Wilson had already warned the Count not to settle himself to his reading, as he would still be able to go to the concert. He was delighted at this, for he did not like to have his plans changed, and he was waiting in the hall when his daughter came downstairs.
‘Well, my dear,’ he said to her in complimentary strains, ‘you look charming in spite of the little contretemps. It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good, and I suppose the spoilt dress means a fresh order to your dressmaker, and a further lightening of my purse.’