"According to Mr. Welbourne, it is not the gamblers who make the income," she said. "It is the people who stop a few days at Monte Carlo, and throw away a couple of louis at the tables to pass the time. After all, most amusements have to be paid for, and what enjoyment is not liable to abuse?"
"Enjoyment," cried Agatha, "enjoyment!"
"The gambling instinct, the delight in the excitement of chance, seems pretty deeply rooted in human nature."
"What vile passion is not deeply rooted in human nature? Mrs. Allonby, I could tell you tragedies. But no——"
Could anything be more moral, correct, and praise-worthy than this impetuous outburst?
And yet, on the very next day, who should Ermengarde meet in the Casino, coming out of the Salle de Jeu, but the woman of mystery herself? Not alone, certainly, but in earnest conversation with the ubiquitous and elusive Anarchist, whom she began to suspect of being no creature of flesh and blood, but some sinister spirit haunting her path with evil intent. So absorbed in their talk were those two that they passed her without recognition, as she turned aside to go into the concert-hall with the American lady and the thin man, who chanced to be with her that day.
A Thursday Classic Concert was being given by the world-famous orchestra; the hall was crowded. Ermengarde thought she recognized everybody she knew on the Riviera in different parts of the house. An aunt, a genuine relative of her own, from Cap Martin, nodded across the fauteuils to her, and missed her in coming out, not wholly to Mrs. Allonby's regret. Elderly relatives are for the fireside, with purring cats, singing tea-kettles and buttered muffins, but they scarcely seem in keeping with places of public amusement. Family matters should never be discussed at full-dress functions.
It was very pleasant outside in the sunlit Gardens by the café, where chairs in a commanding position had been easily found. Fine orchestral music agreeably excites the imagination while it soothes the nerves. Never had the Pathetic Symphony of Tchaikowsky been more beautifully played; it lingered and echoed with harmonious heart-break in the imagination, heightening the beauty of the scenery, making the fresh air fresher and the tea even more enjoyable.
Lady Seaton came up, bringing a nephew, and was easily induced to join the tea-party. The nephew turned out well. Ermengarde observed that his nose was in the Greek style, and his eyes twinkled like the little star of infantile verse. She was in the happy and peaceful mood induced by the subconsciousness of absolutely becoming and perfectly fitting costume. A glance snatched at a little mirror in her bag had assured her that not a hair was out of place, and neither flush nor pallor marred a complexion unsullied by powder or paint. In short, they were all in a mood of great content and enjoyment, when a sudden, a too familiar, sound struck upon Ermengarde's ear, and drew cold chills down her back. It was the voice of Miss Boundrish.
Vainly did the whole party, struck with sudden silence, try to look the other way, and avoid meeting the fair girl's speedwell blue eye, which beamed with friendly recognition and good fellowship. Making her way steadily through the crowd, with the captive Teuton in her wake, she bore resolutely down upon them, her coral lips wreathed in smiles, and graciously announced her intention to join their party.