CHAPTER III
Paul was never quite sure of what happened that evening--everythingwas so wonderful, so unusual, so unlike his ordinary life. The gatewas unlocked he found when he got there, but no one appeared to beinside, and he bounded up the steps and on to the terrace. Silence anddarkness--was she fooling him then? No, there she was by one of thewindows; he could dimly see her outline as she passed into the roombeyond, through some heavy curtains. That was why no light camethrough to the terrace. He followed, dropping them after him also, andthen he found himself in a room as unlike a hotel as he couldimagine. It may have had the usual brocade walls and gilt chairs ofthe "best suite," but its aspect was so transformed by her subtletaste and presence, it seemed to him unique, and there were masses offlowers--roses, big white ones--tuberoses--lilies of the valley,gardenias, late violets. The light were low and shaded, and a greatcouch filled one side of the room beyond the fireplace. Such a couch!covered with a tiger-skin and piled with pillows, all shades of richpurple velvet and silk, embroidered with silver and gold--unlike anypillows he had ever seen before, even to their shapes. The whole thingwas different and strange--and intoxicating.
The lady had reached the couch, and sank into it. She was in blackstill, but gauzy, clinging black, which seemed to give some gleam ofpurple underneath. And if he had not been sure that in daylight he hadthought they were green, he would have sworn the eyes which now lookedinto his were deepest violet, too.
"Come," she said. "You may sit here beside me and tell me what youthink."
And her voice was like rich music--but she had hardly any accent. Shemight have been an Englishwoman almost, for that matter, and yet hesomehow knew that she was not. Perhaps it was she pronounced eachword; nothing was slurred over. Without her hat she looked even moreattractive, and certainly younger. But what was age or youth? And whatwas beauty itself, when a woman whose face was neither young norbeautiful could make him feel he was looking at a divine goddess, andthrilling as he had never dreamt of doing in his short life?
If any one had told Paul this was going to happen to him, thisexperience, he would have laughed them to scorn. To begin with, he wasrather shy with ladies as a rule, and had not learnt a trick of_entreprenance_. It took him quite a while to know one wellenough to even talk at ease. And yet here he was, embarked upon anadventure which savoured of the Arabian Nights.
He came forward and sat down, and he could feel the pulse beating inhis throat. It all seemed perfectly natural at the time, butafterwards he wondered how she had known his name was Paul--and how ithad all come to pass.
"For three days you have thought of me, Paul--is it not so?" she said,half closing her lids.
But he could only blurt out "Yes!" while he devoured her with hiseyes.
"We are both--how shall I say--drifting--holiday-making--trying toforget. And we must talk a little together, _n'est-ce pas_? Tellme?"
"Oh, yes!" said Paul.
"You are beautiful, you know, Paul," she went on. "So tall andstraight like you English, with curly hair of gold. Your mother musthave loved you as a baby."
"I suppose she did," said Paul.
"She is well? Your mother, the stately lady?"
"Very well--do you know her?" he asked, surprised.
"Long ago I have seen her, and I knew you at once, so like youare--and to your uncles, especially the Lord Hubert."
"Uncle Hubert is a rotter!"
"A--rotter?" inquired the lady. "And what is that?" And she smiled adivine smile.
Paul felt ashamed. "Oh! well, it _is_ a rotter, you know--that_is_--like Uncle Hubert, I mean."
She laughed again. "You do not explain well, but I understand you. Andso you only resemble the Uncle Hubert on the outside--that is good."
Paul felt jealous. Lord Hubert Aldringham's reputation--for somethings--was European. "I hope so," he said with emphasis. "And youknew him well then, too?"
"I never said so," replied the lady. "I saw him once--twiceperhaps--years ago--at the marriage of a princess. There, it has madeyou frown, we will speak no more of the Uncle Hubert!" and she leantback and laughed.
Paul felt very young. He wanted to show her he was grown up, and hewanted a number of things which had never even formed themselves inhis imagination before. But she went on talking.
"And your _cotelettes_ were tough, Paul, and you were so crossthat first evening, and hated me! And oh! Paul, you had far too muchwine for a boy like you!"
He reddened to the roots of his fair wavy hair, and then he hung hishead.
"I know I did--it was beastly of me--but I was so--upset--I--"
"Look at me," she said, and she bent forward over him--a glidingfeline movement infinitely sinuous and attractive.
Then he looked, his big blue eyes still cloudy with a mist of shame.
"You must tell me why you were upset, baby--Paul!"
How often she said his name! lingering over it as if it were music. Itthrilled him every time.
Then he gained courage.
"But how did you know anything about it--or what I had--or what Idrank? You never once raised your eyelids all the time!"
"Perhaps I can see through them when I want to--who knows!" and shelaughed.
"And you wanted to--wanted to see through them?"
He was gazing at her now, and she suddenly looked down, while the mostbeautiful transparent pink flushed her soft white cheeks, turning herinto a tender girl almost. The change was so sudden, it startled Paul,and emboldened him.
"You wanted to!" he repeated in a glad voice. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," she whispered, and she looked up at him, but this time therewas mischief in her eyes.
"Is that why you sighed then among the ivy? What made you sigh?"
She paused a moment, and then she said slowly: "A number ofthings. You seemed so young, and so beautiful, and so--asleep."
"Indeed I wasn't asleep!" Paul exclaimed. "It would take a great dealmore port than that to make me go to sleep. I was thinking of--" Andthen he saw she had not meant that kind of sleep, and felt a fool--andwondered.
She helped him out.
"All this time you have not told me why you were upset--upset enoughto drink bad port. That was naughty of you, Paul."
"I was upset--over you. I was angry because I was so interested--" andhe reddened again.
She leant back among the purple cushions, her figure so supple in itslines, it made him think of a snake. She half closed her eyesagain--and she spoke low in a dreamy voice:
"It was fate, Paul. I knew it when I entered the room. I felt it againamong the green trees, and so I ran from you--but to-night it is_plus fort que moi_--so I called you to come in."
"I am so glad--so _glad_," said Paul.
She remained silent. Her eyes in their narrowed lids gleamed at him,seeming to penetrate into his very soul. And now he noticed her mouthagain. It neither drooped nor smiled, it was straight, and chiselledand strong, and small rather, and the lower lip was rounded andslightly cleft in the centre. A most appetising red flower of a mouth.
By this time Paul was more or less intoxicated with excitement, he hadlost all sense of time and place. It seemed as if he had known heralways--that there never had been a moment when she had not filled thewhole of his horizon.
They were both silent for a couple of minutes. As far as he couldgather from her inscrutable face, she was weighing things--whatthings?
Suddenly she sprang up, one of those fine movements of hers full ofcat-like grace.
"Paul," she said, "listen," and she spoke rather fast. "You are soyoung, so young--and I shall hurt you--probably. Won't you gonow--while there is yet time? Away from Lucerne, back to Paris--evenback to England. Anywhere away from me."
She put her hand on his arm, and looked up into his eyes. And therewere tears in hers. And now he saw that they were grey.
He was moved as never yet in all his life.
"I will not!" he said. "I may be young, but to-night I know--I want tolive! And I w
ill chance the hurt, because I know that only you canteach me--just how--"'
Then his voice broke, and he bent down and covered her hand withkisses.
She quivered a little and drew away. She picked up a great bunch oftuberoses, and broke off all their tops. "There, take them!" she said,pressing them into his hands, and those against his heart. "Take themand go--and dream of me. You have chosen. Dream of me to-night andremember--there is to-morrow."
Then she glided back from him, and before he realised it she had gonenoiselessly away through another door.
Paul stood still. The room swam; his head swam. Then he stumbled outon to the terrace, under the night sky, the white blossoms stillpressed against his heart.
He must have walked about for hours. The grey dawn was creeping overthe silent world when at last he went back to the hotel and to hisbed.
There he slept and dreamt--never a dream! For youth and health areglorious things. And he was tired out.
The great sun was high in the heavens when next he awoke. And the roomwas full of the scent of tuberoses, scattered on the pillow besidehim. Presently, when his blue eyes began to take in the meaning ofthings, he remembered and bounded up. For was not this thecommencement of his first real day?