“A woman can’t suffer twice.
I have had all this before.”
And lifting her fingers to her throat she added,
“Even the hands around my neck.
That too.
Now will you understand?”
I looked over her head, straight at the portrait above the mantelpiece, and the young face of Ambrose staring at me was my own.
She had defeated both of us.
“Yes,” I said, “I understand.
If you want to see Rainaldi, ask him here.
I would rather that, than that you crept to meet him at the Rose and Crown.”
And I left her in the boudoir, and went back to my room.
Next day he came to dinner.
She had sent a note to me at breakfast, asking permission to invite him, her challenge of the night before forgotten no doubt, or expediently put aside, to restore me to position.
I sent a note back in return, saying I would give orders for Wellington to fetch him in the carriage.
He arrived at half-past four.
It happened that I was alone in the library when he came, and by some error on the part of Seecombe he was shown in to me, and not into the drawing room.
I rose from my chair, and bade him good afternoon.
He seemed greatly at his ease, and offered me his hand.
“I hope you are recovered,” he said, in greeting me.
“In fact, I think you look better than I expected.
All the reports I had of you were bad.
Rachel was much concerned.”
“Indeed, I am very well,” I said to him.
“The fortune of youth,” he said.
“What it is to have good lungs, and good digestion, so that in the space of a few weeks all traces of sickness leave you.
No doubt you are already galloping about the countryside on horseback.
Whereas we older people, like your cousin and myself, go carefully, to avoid all strain.
Personally, I consider a nap in the immediate afternoon essential to middle age.”
I asked him to sit down and he did so, smiling a little as he looked about him.
“No alterations to this room as yet?” he said.
“Perhaps Rachel intends to leave it so, as giving atmosphere.
Just as well.
The money can be better spent on other things.
She tells me much has been already done about the grounds, since my last visit.
Knowing Rachel, I can well believe it.
But I must see first, before I give approval.
I regard myself as a trustee, to hold a balance.”
He took a thin cigar from his case, and lit it, still smiling as he did so.
“I had a letter to you, written in London,” he said, “after you made over your estate, and would have sent it, but that I had the news of your illness.
There was little in the letter that I can’t say now to your face.
It was merely thanking you, for Rachel’s sake, and assuring you that I would take great care to see there was no great loss to you in the transaction.
I shall watch all expenditure.”
He puffed a cloud of smoke into the air, and gazed up at the ceiling.
“That candelabra,” he said, “was not chosen with great taste.
We could do better for you than that, in Italy.
I must remember to tell Rachel to make a note of these things.
Good pictures, good furniture and fittings, are all sound investments.
Eventually, you will find we shall hand the property back to you with double value.
However, that’s in the distant future.