“‘Ah, madame,’” mocked the baroness. “Look here, my dear, I have known, and I thank Heaven that I have known one unselfish man who loved without self-love! And he was Nicholas Von Bruyin. And the more I see of other men, the more I love and honor him. Mr. Hereward certainly suffers in that comparison. But to return to the subject of the ball, Lilith, my dear, I really cannot consent to your absenting yourself.”
“But, madame——”
“But, nonsense! If you are in a false position it is not one of your choosing. Your husband has forced you into it. If you are called Mrs. Wyvil, it is because your husband has forbidden you to bear his name, and you are so meek as to obey him. And if you seem to be a widow, it is because he has made you one in fate if not in law. But you shall not ‘wear the willow’ for his undeserving sake! You shall enjoy life as your youth and beauty entitle you to do. And I will protect you in this. Do not fear to be embarrassed by any more proposals of marriage. That embarrassment is forestalled. You are understood to be engaged to an American statesman of high rank. And that is also true, is it not? You do consider yourself most solemnly engaged, yes, most solemnly and eternally engaged, to that man, notwithstanding his repudiation of you, do you not?”
“Yes, madame! But I wish you would not call Mr. Hereward ‘that man,’” said Lilith.
“Very well! Since you object, I will call him this man! And while we are objecting, let me tell you that I object to your calling me ‘madame,’ as if I were somebody’s aunt or grandmother! I am only about three years older than you are. And I call you ‘Lilith,’ do you observe? And my name is Leda; though I am likely to forget it, for since my father and my husband died there is no human being in the world left to call me Leda, unless my chosen friend and sister will do so,” said Madame Von Bruyin, with a touch of pathos in her tone.
“I will go to your ball, Leda,” said Lilith, conceding both points in her gentle answer.
The ball was to be a great success, and it was a great success.
Lilith was exposed to another complication. She was in danger of being “taken up” by a certain distinguished clique, patronized by a certain august personage, and being turned into a “professional beauty.”
And the baroness made the conquest of an Italian prince, of about her own age, of much grace, beauty and accomplishments; of—what is much rarer in continental princes—great wealth also, and of a family who claimed to read their title clear through all the centuries of recorded history, back into the age of fable and chaos, where all things are void or misty.
Prince Otto Gherardini as a matter of detail.