I lack any clear recollection of the quarter of an hour that followed. I know that we talked and laughed and were very friendly and very cheerful, and that Dunny’s eyes, as they studied me, began to hold a gleam of intelligence, as if he were guessing something about the reasons for my former black despondency. I recall that the duke’s hand was on my shoulder, and that—odd how one’s attitude can change!—I liked to feel it. We were going to be great friends, tremendous pals, I suspected. And every time I looked at the duchess she seemed lovelier, more gracious; she was the very wife I would have chosen for such a corking chap.
This, however, was by the way. None of it really mattered. While I paid compliments and supplied details as to my convalescence and answered Dunny’s chaffing, I saw only one member of the party, the girl in white. She was rather silent; she gave me only fugitive glances. But she wasn’t engaged, at least not to the Firefly. Hurrah!
What an agonizing, heart-rending, utterly unnecessary experience I had endured, now that I thought of it! I had jumped to conclusions with the agility of a kangaroo. He had kissed her; she had allowed it. Did that prove that he was her fiance? He might have been anything—her cousin or an old friend of her childhood, or her sister’s husband’s nephew. But brother-in-law was best of all, not too remote or yet too close. In that relationship, I decided, he was ideal.
By this time I was wondering how long we were to stand here exchanging ideas and persiflage, an animated group of five. The duke and duchess were charming, but I had had enough of them; I could have spared even good old Dunny; what I wanted, and wanted frantically, was a tete-a-tete; just Esme Falconer and myself. When I saw two automobiles, packed imposingly with uniformed figures, speed up the drive to the chateau, hope stirred in me. With suppressed joy,—I trust it was suppressed,—I heard the duke exclaim that this was General Le Cazeau, due to visit the hospital with his staff and greet the wounded and bestow on certain lucky beings the reward of their valor in the shape of medals of war. Obviously, it would have been inexcusable for the master and mistress of Raincy-la-Tour to ignore a visitor so distinguished. I made no protest whatever as they turned to go.
“But, Miss Falconer,” I implored fervently, “you won’t desert me, will you? Pity a poor blesse that no general cares two straws to see!”
She smiled, an omen that encouraged me to send Dunny a look of meaning; but my guardian, bless him, had grasped the situation; he was already gone.
Down by the water among the trees there was a marble bench, and with one accord we turned our steps that way. I emphasized my game leg shamelessly; I positively flourished my crutches. My battle scars, I guessed from the girl’s kind eyes, appealed to her compassion, and as soon as I suspected this I thanked my stars for that German shell.
“Isn’t there anything,” she said as we sat down, “that you want to ask me? I think I should be curious if I were you. After all we have done together there isn’t much beyond my name that you know of me, and you knew that in Jersey City the night the Re d’Italia sailed.”
I shook my head.
“There is just one thing I wanted to know,” I answered cryptically, “and I learned that when your brother-in-law presented me to his wife. Still, there is nothing on earth you can tell me that I shan’t be glad to listen to. Say the multiplication table if you like, or recite cook-book recipes. Anything—if you’ll only stay!”