"Not so much as you dare now, if you did but know!" said Mitford. "You knew then that, had the worst come to the worst, you had a man at your feet who was prepared to brave all for you; who would have scorned the world and all that the world could say; who would have taken you far away out of the chance of its venom and the breath of its scandal, and devoted his life to securing your happiness. Your reputation was even then beginning to be tainted; your name had even then been buzzed about, and you would have gained--ay, gained--rather than lost by the fortunate accident which would have made one man your slave for ever!"
"I had no idea you had such a talent for eloquence," said she calmly. "Even in your maddest access of passion--for you are, I suppose, the 'one man' who was prepared to do such mighty things--you never warmed up to say so many sensible words consecutively! But suppose you are arguing on wrong premises? Suppose there is a man who is prepared to do all that that hypothetical 'one man' would have dared? Prepared--ay, and able--to do more! More, for that 'one man' was married, and could only have placed me virtuously in the eyes of the world after long and tedious legal ceremonies. Suppose that there is now a man able and willing--nay more, dying--to make me his wife, what then?"
"Then," said Sir Charles, "I go back to what I said before--let him look to himself--let him look to himself!"
"He is perfectly ready to do so, Sir Charles Mitford," said a low deep voice.
Both turned, and both saw Prince Tchernigow standing in the doorway. Laura gave a great start, and rushed to his side. He put his arm calmly round her, and said:
"Do not disturb yourself, Laura; there is no occasion for fright."
"Ah!" said Mitford, with a deep inhalation of his breath, "I have found you at last, have I? You are here, Prince Tchernigow! So much the better! Let me tell you, sir, that--"
"Even Sir Charles Mitford will recollect," said Tchernigow, "that one chooses one's language in the presence of ladies!" Then, in a lower tones "I shall be at the rooms in half an hour."
Mitford nodded sulkily and took up his hat. Then, with a low bow to Mrs. Hammond, he left the room.
An hour had passed, and the space in front of the Kürsaal was thronged as usual. At a table by himself sat Sir Charles Mitford, drinking brandy-and-water, and ever and anon casting eager glances round him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hand shook as he conveyed the glass to his lips, and his whole face was puckered and livid. The aspect of his face brightened as he saw Prince Tchernigow approaching him. Tchernigow was alone, and was making his way with the utmost deliberation to the table at which he saw Mitford seated. He came up, took off his hat with a grave bow, and remained standing. Mitford swallowed what remained of his drink, and stood up beside him.