“I fear that amid all that whirl of pleasure in Paris, and amid all those smart women you must meet daily, you will forget me.”
“I shall never do that,” I answered reassuringly.
She was silent for a moment. Her countenance had assumed a very grave expression.
“Ah,” she said, with a slight sigh, “you do not know how I sometimes suffer, Gerald. I am always fearing that some other woman may rob me of you.”
“No, no, dearest,” I answered, laughing. “Never contemplate that, for such a theft is not possible. Remember that my duty in a foreign capital is to represent my country at the various social functions, and to endeavour to promote good feeling wherever I can. A diplomatist who is not popular with the women never rises to the post of ambassador. To be gallant is essential, however one may despise and detest the crowd of voluble females upon whom one must dance attendance.”
“I often sit here and picture you in your smart diplomatic uniform flirting with some pretty foreign woman in a dimly lit arbour or conservatory,” she observed, still very grave. “My life is so very quiet and uneventful in comparison with yours;” and she sighed.
“The charge against me of flirtation is entirely unfounded,” I declared, holding her hand and looking earnestly into her clear eyes, now filled with tears. “It is true that sometimes, for purposes connected with our diplomacy, I chat merrily with some grande dame in an endeavour to pick up information regarding the latest change in the political wind; but with me the art of pleasing women is a profession, as it is with every man in the Diplomatic Service.”
“I know,” she said in a strained tone. “And in those hours of pleasure you forget me. Is not that so?”
“I do not forget a certain summer evening up in Scotland when we walked out after dinner and strolled together down by the rippling burn,” I said in a low voice, pressing her closer to me. “I do not forget what words I uttered then, nor do I forget your response—that you loved me, darling.”
“But there are others, more attractive than myself, whom you must meet constantly at those brilliant receptions of which I read in the newspapers,” she cried, bursting into tears.