The picture Gallery made a brilliant setting for that gallant company! A collection of England's best, dancing their hardest to a stirring band, which sang when the tune of some popular Révue chorus came in.
"The Song of the Swan," Verisschenzko thought as he observed it all in the last few minutes before midnight. He must go away soon. A messenger had arrived in hot haste from London, motoring beyond the speed limit, and as soon as his servant had packed his things he must return and not wait for the morning. All relations between Austria and Servia had been broken off, the conflagration had begun, and no time must be wasted further. He must be in Russia as soon as it was possible to get there. He blamed himself for coming down.
"And yet it was as well," he reflected, because he had become awakened in regard to possible double dealing in Harietta. But where were his host and hostess—he must bid them farewell.
John Ardayre was valsing with Lady Avonwier and Harietta Boleski undulated in the arms of the tall German who had come with the party from Broomgrove—but Amaryllis for the moment was absent from the room.
"If I could only know who the beast is before I go, and where she has met him previously!" Verisschenzko's thoughts ran. "It is more than ever necessary that I master her—and there is so little time."
He waited for a few seconds, the dance was almost done, and when the last notes of music ceased and the throng of people swept towards him, he fixed Harietta with his eye.
Her evening so far had not been agreeable. She had not been able to have a word with Stépan, who had been far from her at the banquet before the ball. She was torn with jealousy of Amaryllis; and the advent of Hans, when she would have wished to have been free to re-grab Verisschenzko, was most unfortunate. It had not been altogether pleasant, his turning up at Bridgeborough, but at any rate that one evening was quite enough! She really could not be wearied with him more!
His new instructions to her from the higher command were most annoyingly difficult too—coming at a time when her whole mind was given to consolidating her position in England,—it was really too bad!
If only the tiresome bothers of these stupid old quarrelsome countries did not upset matters, she just meant to make Stanislass shut up his ugly old Polish home, and settle in some splendid country house like this, only nearer London. Now that she had seen what life was in England, she knew that this was her goal. No bothersome old other language to be learned! Besides, no men were so good-looking as the English, or made such safe and prudent lovers, because they did not boast. If any information she had been able to collect for Hans in the last year had helped his Ober-Lords to stir up trouble, she was almost sorry she had given it—unless indeed, ructions between those ridiculous southern countries made it so that she could remain in England, then it was a good thing. And Hans had assured her that England could not be dragged in. Then she laughed to herself as she always did if Hans coerced her—when she recollected how she had given his secrets away to Verisschenzko and that no matter how he seemed to compel her obedience, she was even with him underneath!
She looked now at the Russian standing there, so tall and ugly, and weirdly distinguished, and a wild passionate desire for him overcame her, as primitive as one a savage might have felt. At that moment she almost hated her late husband, for she dared not speak to Verisschenzko with Hans there. She must wait until Verisschenzko spoke to her. Hans could not prevent that, nor accuse her of disobeying his command. So that it was with joy that she saw the Russian approach her. She did not know that he was leaving suddenly, and she was wondering if some meeting could not be arranged for later on, when Hans would be gone.