Count Bunker [28]
had always been at the greatest pains to preserve her daughter's innocent simplicity, as being preeminently a more marketable commodity than precocious worldliness. But if reminded of this she would probably have retorted that consistency was middle-class also.
"I have no reason to suspect anything of the sort," the Baroness declared emphatically.
Her mother indulged her with a pitying smile and inquired--
"What other explanation can you offer? Among his men friends is there anyone likely to lead him into mischief?"
"None--at least----"
"Ah!"
"He promised me he would avoid Mr. Bunker--I mean Mr. Essington."
The Countess started. She had vivid and exceedingly distasteful recollections of Mr. Bunker.
"That man! Are they still acquainted?"
"Acquainted--oh yes; but I give Rudolph credit for more sense and more truthfulness than to renew their friendship."
The Countess pondered with a very grave expression upon her face, while Alicia gently wiped her eyes and ardently wished that her honest Rudolph was here to defend his character and refute these baseless insinuations. At length her mother said with a brisker air--
"Ah! I know exactly what we must do. I shall make a point of seeing Sir Justin Wallingford tomorrow."
"Sir Justin Wallingford!"
"If anybody can obtain private information for us he can. We shall soon learn whether the Baron has been sent to Russia."
Alicia uttered a cry of protest. Sir Justin, ex- diplomatist, author of a heavy volume of Victorian reminiscences, and confidant of many public personages, was one of her mother's oldest friends; but to her he was only one degree less formidable than the Countess, and quite the last person she would have chosen for consultation upon this, or indeed upon any other subject.
"I am not going to intrust my husband's secrets to him!" she exclaimed.
"I am," replied the Countess.
"But I won't allow it! Rudolph would be----"
"Rudolph has only himself to blame. My dear Alicia, you can trust Sir Justin implicitly. When my child's happiness is at stake I would consult no one who was not discretion itself. I am very glad I thought of him."
The Baroness burst into tears.
"My child, my child!" said her mother compassionately. "The world is no Garden of Eden, however much we may all try to make it so."
"You--you don't se--seem to be trying now, mamma."
"May Heaven forgive you, my darling," pronounced the Countess piously.
CHAPTER XIV
"Sir Justin," said the Countess firmly, "please tell my daughter exactly what you have discovered."
Sir Justin Wallingford sat in the drawing- room at Belgrave Square with one of these ladies on either side of him. He was a tall, gaunt man with a grizzled black beard, a long nose, and such a formidably solemn expression that ambitious parents were in the habit of wishing that their offspring might some day be as wise as Sir Justin Wallingford looked. His fund of information was prodigious, while his reasoning powers were so remarkable that he had never been known to commit the slightest action without furnishing a full and adequate explanation of his conduct. Thus the discrimination shown by the Countess in choosing him to restore a lady's peace of mind will at once be apparent.
"The results of my inquiries," he pronounced, "have been on the whole of a negative nature. If this mission on which the Baron von Blitzenberg professes to be employed is in fact of an unusually delicate nature, it is just conceivable that the answer I received from Prince Gommell-Kinchen, when I sounded him at the Khalifa's luncheon, may have been intended merely to throw dust in my eyes. At the same time, his highness appeared to speak with the candor of a man who has partaken, not excessively, you understand, but I may say freely, of the pleasures of the table."
He looked steadily first at one lady and then at the other, to let this point sink in.
"And what did the Prince say?" asked the Baroness, who, in spite of her supreme confidence in her husband, showed a certain eager
"I have no reason to suspect anything of the sort," the Baroness declared emphatically.
Her mother indulged her with a pitying smile and inquired--
"What other explanation can you offer? Among his men friends is there anyone likely to lead him into mischief?"
"None--at least----"
"Ah!"
"He promised me he would avoid Mr. Bunker--I mean Mr. Essington."
The Countess started. She had vivid and exceedingly distasteful recollections of Mr. Bunker.
"That man! Are they still acquainted?"
"Acquainted--oh yes; but I give Rudolph credit for more sense and more truthfulness than to renew their friendship."
The Countess pondered with a very grave expression upon her face, while Alicia gently wiped her eyes and ardently wished that her honest Rudolph was here to defend his character and refute these baseless insinuations. At length her mother said with a brisker air--
"Ah! I know exactly what we must do. I shall make a point of seeing Sir Justin Wallingford tomorrow."
"Sir Justin Wallingford!"
"If anybody can obtain private information for us he can. We shall soon learn whether the Baron has been sent to Russia."
Alicia uttered a cry of protest. Sir Justin, ex- diplomatist, author of a heavy volume of Victorian reminiscences, and confidant of many public personages, was one of her mother's oldest friends; but to her he was only one degree less formidable than the Countess, and quite the last person she would have chosen for consultation upon this, or indeed upon any other subject.
"I am not going to intrust my husband's secrets to him!" she exclaimed.
"I am," replied the Countess.
"But I won't allow it! Rudolph would be----"
"Rudolph has only himself to blame. My dear Alicia, you can trust Sir Justin implicitly. When my child's happiness is at stake I would consult no one who was not discretion itself. I am very glad I thought of him."
The Baroness burst into tears.
"My child, my child!" said her mother compassionately. "The world is no Garden of Eden, however much we may all try to make it so."
"You--you don't se--seem to be trying now, mamma."
"May Heaven forgive you, my darling," pronounced the Countess piously.
CHAPTER XIV
"Sir Justin," said the Countess firmly, "please tell my daughter exactly what you have discovered."
Sir Justin Wallingford sat in the drawing- room at Belgrave Square with one of these ladies on either side of him. He was a tall, gaunt man with a grizzled black beard, a long nose, and such a formidably solemn expression that ambitious parents were in the habit of wishing that their offspring might some day be as wise as Sir Justin Wallingford looked. His fund of information was prodigious, while his reasoning powers were so remarkable that he had never been known to commit the slightest action without furnishing a full and adequate explanation of his conduct. Thus the discrimination shown by the Countess in choosing him to restore a lady's peace of mind will at once be apparent.
"The results of my inquiries," he pronounced, "have been on the whole of a negative nature. If this mission on which the Baron von Blitzenberg professes to be employed is in fact of an unusually delicate nature, it is just conceivable that the answer I received from Prince Gommell-Kinchen, when I sounded him at the Khalifa's luncheon, may have been intended merely to throw dust in my eyes. At the same time, his highness appeared to speak with the candor of a man who has partaken, not excessively, you understand, but I may say freely, of the pleasures of the table."
He looked steadily first at one lady and then at the other, to let this point sink in.
"And what did the Prince say?" asked the Baroness, who, in spite of her supreme confidence in her husband, showed a certain eager