“No, mamma; I could have done so, as, of course, she was at my mercy. But—well,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I never have kissed an unwilling woman.”
“Her conduct is strange,” said the Countess thoughtfully, “for she certainly seems to like you.” The speaker still felt very shaky, but she was trying to pull herself together.
“I wonder if it has ever occurred to you,” said Beppo, “that there is already a man in Lily’s life? I taunted her—for, mamma, I quite lost my head—and now, looking back, I remember that she said nothing. She did not deny it—as a modest girl would have done.”
As the Countess remained silent, he went on:
“In one of your letters you said that Lily had solemnly assured you she was not engaged, and that you believed this to be the truth. But mamma, has it ever occurred to you that the curious, silent young man, that Captain Stuart who is staying down at the Hôtel de Paris, may be in love with her? If he were a Frenchman I would call him out,” added Beppo fiercely. “We would have a duel, and I would kill him!”
“The girl hardly knows him,” she said slowly.
“I cannot help suspecting that I have a rival! Yet till yesterday I would have sworn that she was as pure as the flower from which she takes her name!”
“You can still swear that,” said the Countess firmly.
She made up her mind to remain absolutely silent as to the little she knew about Angus Stuart and his friendship with Lily Fairfield. After all, there was only that letter—that rather short, formal letter, enclosing those notes on the writer’s life. Still, she had thought of that letter and of those notes very often, as she had watched the girl during the last few days, much as a big, wily cat watches an unsuspecting mouse. She was fairly sure that Lily had not sent any letter out of the house, apart from the one she had written to her uncle. It was true that the girl went to meet the postman every morning, but in Monaco postmen are not allowed to take letters to the post, and the post-box was some way down the hill. The Countess was certain that Lily had not been down there alone during the last few days.
Still, the thought that her carefully-laid plans for her son’s happiness and prosperity might go wrong because of a silly flirtation between Lily Fairfield and a casual train acquaintance made the Countess Polda feel as if she would go mad with disappointment and rage. She began to hate the girl whom only the previous morning she had almost loved.