These considerations united in deciding her to travel to Wiesbaden. She would cross to the Continent alone, her father and her maid being left at home. Sir Francis knew nothing as yet of Rivière—for Olive had told him nothing. She had an unlimited capacity for keeping her own counsel when it suited her purpose.
The next day saw her en route for Wiesbaden, following a letter to that effect to Elaine.
CHAPTER XXVII
WOMEN'S WEAPONS
Olive had a genius for dress. Her gowns had not only style, which might be due to the costumier, but also effect, which is entirely personal. They invariably harmonized with the occasion, or with the way she sought to mould the occasion. Sometimes she had snapped her fingers at fashion, taken matters with the high hand—and carried the occasion triumphantly. The illustrated weeklies published portraits of her when the theatrical market was dull.
It was characteristic of Olive that although she was going to visit a blinded girl with bandaged eyes, yet when she left the Hotel Quisisana at Wiesbaden for the surgical home she had dressed studiously for the occasion. The part to be dressed was that of "the outraged wife." The gown was of clinging grey cashmere, cut with simplicity and dignity, with touches of soft violet to suggest sensitive inner feelings. The hat was of grey straw with willowy feathers drooping softly from it. She wore no jewellery beyond a simple pearl brooch and her wedding-ring.
Dressed thus, she felt ready for any cruelty.
A nurse showed her into the room where Elaine lay on her chaise longue with bandages hiding the upper part of her face.
"Do you suffer much?" asked Olive softly, when the nurse had left them alone.
"Thank you—there is no pain now. Only waiting for the day of release, when my bandages are to be removed."