The last piece of information was not particularly delightful to Usk, but he stayed, and was rewarded for abandoning his private judgment by many tender looks and caressing words from Félicia. A certain amount of triumph over Maimie was visible in her glance, and Usk guessed miserably that Maimie had prophesied he would not allow himself to be cajoled. Even now he felt horribly conscious that he did not believe in Félicia’s explanation. He had yielded because at the moment the fear of losing her seemed intolerable, but his submission degraded him in his own eyes. All Félicia’s endeavours to hide his chain with flowers were useless; she did not love him, and he did not trust her.
Matters were no better when Mrs van Zyl’s guests arrived, and he had no longer to keep up the dreary pretence which Félicia insisted on treating as solid reality. He did his duty in helping to hand round tea and cake, finding seats for elderly ladies, and making up sets for croquet, but the company was not to his taste, although it was evident that Félicia found it very much to hers. Once more he noticed the change in her. At Llandiarmid she had been merely the shadow of her real self, perversely critical or genuinely languid, but now she had recovered the health and good spirits which had been so noticeable before her father’s death. The well preserved, tightly buttoned, barons and counts who owed allegiance to the other American women present crowded round her, and competed for her smiles with rival sallies of wit, and the weary cosmopolitans forgot to talk of such an one’s score and some one else’s bad luck. She held her court among them, listening to their deftly turned compliments with an indifference which was almost contemptuous, until the splendid eyes would all at once be lifted lazily, and a comment be uttered—sometimes only a single word—which set all her hearers laughing. She could hold her own with ease even when her indifference piqued them all to unite against her. Still reclining with half-veiled eyes in her hammock, she would annihilate half her assailants at once with a single sally, and then dispose of the rest by a few crisp sentences in succession. It was perfect, Usk saw. No wonder these fellows were attracted and amused, and yet—and yet—what was to be the outcome of it all? Was it possible for Félicia—even if she ever intended to marry him—to be happy as his wife? Morbidly awake now to her methods and aims, he found no pleasure in the fact that King Michael had not put in an appearance all day, but rather a reason for her restoration of himself to favour. In spite of his protestations to his uncle, he was occupying now the most degraded of all positions, that of a stalking-horse employed to pique the other man into renewing his attentions.
CHAPTER XII.
MURDERED FAITH.
“We really ought to buy something at the refreshment-stall,” said the Grand-Duchess; “but what is one to do with cakes in a hotel?”
“We might have tea here instead,” said Queen Ernestine. “Usk, perhaps you can find us a table in a quiet corner?”
A bazaar was being held on behalf of some object connected with the English church, and the Queen, escorted by Usk, had met the Grand-Duchess of Schwarzwald-Molzau and her daughter making the round of the stalls. One of the lady members of the committee, who was hovering at the Queen’s heels with the view of directing her attention to the most desirable, and expensive, articles on each stall, heard the remark about tea, and appeared suddenly in front of the party, her whole aspect eloquent of a desire to be addressed.
“Perhaps you can help us, Miss Waverley?” said the Queen, with a smile. “We should like to find a table a little more private than this one.”
“I can show you the very place, Ma’am,” replied Miss Waverley breathlessly. “There is a little nook here where your Majesty can see all that goes on without being seen, if your—if the gentleman will just help me to move this table.”
“Which of us is anxious to see all that is to be seen?” asked the Queen, as Miss Waverley hurried away to order the tea. “I think it must be you, Helene. Sit here, dear, where you can watch the people. Do put those parcels on the floor, Usk, and sit down.”
“I’m trying to decide whether Miss Waverley takes me for your equerry or your footman,” said Usk. “In either case she will be very much scandalised if she catches me sitting down. I think I had better receive the things from her and present them. Does your Majesty wish to be served on the knee?”