“Lots of money, I mean,” M. de Montevesso began again. “Not your savings and scrapings. Money that one acquires boldly and enough of it to be profuse with.”
“Is he going to treat me to vulgar boasting?” thought Cosmo. He wished that Adèle would come in and interrupt this tête-à-tête which was so very different from the one he had been expecting.
“I daresay money is very useful,” he assented, with airy scorn which he thought might put an end to the subject. But his interlocutor persisted.
“You can’t know anything about it,” he affirmed, then added unexpectedly: “Money will give you even ideas. Lots of ideas. The worst of it is that any one of them may turn out damnable. Well, yes. There is of course danger in money, but what of that?”
“It can scarcely be if it is used for good works, as you seem to use it,” said Cosmo with polite indifference. He meant it to be final, but Count de Montevesso was not to be suppressed.
“It leads one into worries,” he said. “For instance, that orphanage of mine, it is really a very large place. I am trying to be a benefactor to my native province, but I want it to be in my own way. Well, since the Restoration, the priests are trying to get hold of it. They want to turn it to the glory of God and to the service of religion. I have seen enough of all sorts of religions not to know what that means. No sooner had the King entered Paris than the Bishop wrote to me pointing out that there was no chapel and suggesting that I should build one and appoint a chaplain. That Bishop is …”
He threw up his head suddenly and Cosmo became aware of the presence of Adèle without having heard even the rustle of her dress. He stood up hastily. There was a short silence.
“I see the acquaintance is made,” said Adèle, looking from one to the other. Her eyes lingered on Cosmo and then turned to her husband. “I didn’t know you would be already here. I had to help my father to his room. I would have come at once here but he detained me.” Again she turned to Cosmo. “You will pardon me.”
“I found Count Helion here. I have not been alone for a minute,” said Cosmo. “You owe me no apologies. I was delighted to make your husband’s acquaintance, even if you were not here to introduce us to each other.”
This was said in English and Count Helion by the mantelpiece waited till Cosmo had finished before he asked, “Where’s Clelia?”
“I have sent her to bed,” said Countess de Montevesso. “Helion, my father would like to see you this evening.”
“I am at the orders of M. le Marquis.”
The grenadier-like figure at the mantelpiece did not stir, and those words were followed only by a slight twitch in the muscles of the face which might have had a sardonic intention. “Tonight, at once,” he repeated. “But with Mr. Latham here?”
“Pray don’t mind me, I am going away directly,” said Cosmo. “It is getting late.”
“In Italy it is never late. I hope to find you here when I return. As the husband of a daughter of the house of D’Armand I know what is due to the name of Latham. Am I really expected at once?”
Adèle moved forward a step or two, speaking rapidly. “There has been some news from Elba, or about Elba, which gives a certain concern to my father. As you have been to the public knowledge in direct touch with people from Elba my father would like to have your opinion.”
Count Helion changed his attitude, and leaning his shoulders against the mantelpiece addressed himself to Cosmo.
“It was the most innocent thing in the world. It was something about the project for the exploitation of the Island of Pianosa. Napoleon sent his treasurer here to get in touch with a banker. I am a man of affairs. The banker consulted me—as a man who knew the spot. It’s true I know the spot, but if you hear it said that it is because of my relations with the Dey of Algiers, pray don’t believe it. I am in no way in touch with the Barbary States.”
He made a step forward, and then another, and stood still. “You two had better sit down and talk. Yes, sit down and talk. Renew the acquaintance of your early youth … your early youth,” he repeated in a faint voice. “Those youthful friendships …” he made a convulsive grimace which Cosmo had discovered to be the effect of a smile. “There is something so charming in those youthful friendships. As to myself I don’t remember ever being youthful.” He stepped out towards the door through which Cosmo had seen Clelia enter that morning. “Let me find you when I return, enjoying yourselves most sentimentally. Most delightful.”
His long stiff back swayed in the doorway and the door came to with a crash.
Cosmo and Adèle looked at each other with a smile. Cosmo, hat in hand, asked just audibly, “I suppose I had better stay?” She made an affirmative sign and, moving away from him, put her foot on the marble fender of the fireplace where nothing was left but hot ashes hiding a reddish glow.
V
Cosmo, ill at ease, remained looking at her. He was in doubt what the sign she had made meant, a nervous and imperious gesture, which might have been a command for him to go or to stay. In his irresolution he gazed at her, thinking that she was lovely to an incredible degree and that the word “radiant” applied to her extraordinary aptness. Light entered into
