Our Own Set Part 13

"Oh! my husband had some political connection with hers," the countess explained. "She is not to be borne, she stuck to me like a leech for half an hour."

"Your conversation must have been very interesting," said Siegburg.

"It did not interest me," replied the countess rather sharply. "She told me how much her journey had cost her, what she pays a day for carriage-hire, and that when she was young she had singing-lessons of Cicimara. And she chattered endlessly about her sister Sterzl who is living here 'in the first style and knows absolutely none but the creme de la creme'--you laugh!..."

"Well, mamma, you must confess that the a.s.sociation of such a name as Sterzl with the cream of society is irresistibly funny," cried Polyxena.

"It was anything rather than funny to me," said the countess ruefully.

"By the way, though, she did tell me one thing--that her niece Zenade Sterzl ... Well, what is there to laugh at now?"

"Zenade Sterzl! the name is a poem in itself," cried Polyxena; "it is as though an English woman were named Belinda Brown, or a French girl called Roxalane Dubois."

"Well, it seems from what the old woman told me that the fair Zenade is about to relinquish the graceless name of Sterzl for one of the n.o.blest names in Austria--that is the old idiot's story. It has not yet been made public, so she could not tell me the bridegroom's name, but Zenade is as good as betrothed to a young count--an attache to the Austrian emba.s.sy. Who on earth can it be?--You ought to know!"

"Ah, ah! Is it you?" said Polyxena turning to Siegburg. But Siegburg shook his head, stroking his yellow moustache to conceal a malicious smile as he watched Sempaly's conspicuous annoyance. "Or is it you, Nicki?" the young countess went on--"I congratulate you on marrying into such a delightful family!"

But such a marked effect of embarra.s.sment was produced by her speech that she was suddenly silent.

"I know nothing of it," said Sempaly with a gloomy scowl. "That old chatterbox's imagination is positively stupendous."

The play of light on the gold lace of the uniforms and the bra.s.s instruments is fast fading away and the sheen of the glossy-leaved evergreens is almost extinct. "_Gran dio morir si giovane!_" is the tune the band is playing. The sun is down, the day is dead, night shrouds the scene; the only color left is a dull glow behind St.

Peter's like a dying fire.

"At the Ellis' this evening," Siegburg calls out to the ladies as he lifts his hat and turns away. The carriages make their way down the hill, past the Villa Medici, back into Rome, and their steady roar is like that of a torrent rus.h.i.+ng to join the sea.

CHAPTER IV.

Mr. and Lady Julia Ellis--she was an earl's daughter--English people of enormous wealth and amazing condescension, had for many years spent the winters in Rome. In former times the lady's eccentricities had given rise to much discussion; now she was an old lady with white hair, fine regular features and much too fat arms. Like all English women of her day she appeared in a low gown on all occasions of full dress, and was fond of decking her head with a pink feather. Her husband was younger than she was and had a handsome, thoroughly English face, with a short beard and very picturesque curly white hair. His profile was rather like that of Mendelssohn, a fact of which he was exceedingly proud.

Besides this he was proud of two other things: of his wife, who had been admired in her youth by King George IV. and of a very old umbrella, because Felix Mendelssohn had once borrowed it. He had a weakness for performing on the concertina and had musical evenings once a week.

It happened that on the occasion when the Jatinskys first went to one of these parties Tulpin the Russian genius whose great work had served as the introduction to the Ilsenbergh tableaux, was elaborating a new opera to a French libretto on a national Russian story. He was, of course, one of those Russians who combine a pa.s.sionate devotion to the national Slav cause with a fervent wish to be mistaken for born Parisians wherever they appear. The piano groaned under his hands, while sundry favorite phrases from _Orphee aux Enfers_ and other well-known works were heard above the rolling sea of tremolos. From time to time the performer threw in a word to elucidate the situation: "The czar speaks...." "The bojar speaks...." "The peasant speaks...."

"The sighing of the wind in the Caucasus...." "The foaming of the torrent...." While Mr. Ellis, who believed implicitly in the opera, was heard murmuring: "Splendid! ... magnificent! The opera must be worked out--it must not remain unperformed!"

"Worked out!" sighed Tulpin with melancholy irony. "That is no concern of mine. We--we have the ideas, the working out we leave to--to--to others, in short. You must remember that I cannot read a note of music--literally, not a note," he repeated with intense and visible satisfaction, and he flung off a few stumbling arpeggios, while Mr.

Ellis cried: "Astonis.h.i.+ng!" and compared him with Mendelssohn, which Tulpin, who believed only in the music of the future, took very much amiss. A _Grand Prix de Musique_, from the French academy of arts at the Villa Medici, who had been waiting more than an hour to perform his "Arab symphony," muttered to himself: "Good heavens! leave music to us, and let us be thankful that we are not great folks!"

At last Lady Julia took pity on her guests and invited them to go to take tea; every one was only too glad to accept, and in a few minutes the music room was almost empty. Madame Tulpin, out of devotion, the Grand Prix out of spite, and Mr. Ellis out of duty were all that remained within hearing. In the adjoining room every one had burst into conversation over their tea; still, a certain gloom prevailed.

Melancholy seemed to have fallen upon the party like an epidemic, and the subject that was most eagerly discussed was the easiest mode of suicide.

Tulpin rattled and thumped on; suddenly he stopped--the Jatinskys had come in, and their advent was such a G.o.dsend that even the genius abandoned the piano in their honor. They all three were smiling in the most friendly--it might almost be said the most rea.s.suring manner; for Countess Ilsenbergh had not failed to impress upon them the very mixed character of Roman society, and, feeling their own superiority, they were able to cover their self-consciousness with the most engaging amiability. The two younger ladies were surrounded--besieged--and the strange thing was that the women paid them even greater homage than the men. Everything about them was admired: their small feet, their finely-cut profiles, their incredibly slender waists, the color of their hair, the artistic simplicity of their dresses--and bets were laid as to whether these were the production of Fanet or of Worth. But now there was the little commotion in the next room that is caused by the arrival of some very popular person. Zinka, without her mother, under her brother's escort only, came in and gave her slim hand with an affectionate greeting to the lady of the house.

"You are an incorrigible truant, you always come too late;" said Lady Julia in loving reproach.

"Like repentance and the police," said Zinka merrily; and then Lady Julia introduced her to Countess Jatinska.

"But you must help me with the tea; you know I always reckon on you for that," Lady Julia went on. "Give your charming countrywomen some, will you?"

Polyxena and Nini were sitting a yard or two off, surrounded by all the young men of Rome; Zinka was going towards them with her winning grace of manner when Sempaly happened to come up, and found himself so unexpectedly face to face with her that he had no alternative but to shake hands, and he could not avoid saying a few words. Of course--like any other man in his place--he made precisely the most unlucky speech he could possibly have hit upon:

"We have not met for some time."

She looked him in the face but of half-shut eyes, with her head slightly thrown back, and replied, with very becoming defiance:

"You have carried out the penance you began on Ash-Wednesday!"

"Perhaps," and he could not help smiling.

She shrugged her shoulders: "I had intended to break off our friends.h.i.+p," she went on, "but now that I see the cause of your faithlessness,"--and she glanced at the handsome young countesses--"I quite understand it. Will you at any rate do me the favor of introducing me to the ladies?"

"Fraulein Sterzl--" said Sempaly; but hardly had he uttered the words when a scarcely suppressed smile curled Polyxena's lip. Zinka saw the smile, and she saw too that Sempaly's manner instantly changed; he put on an artificial expression of intolerable condescension.

Zinka turned very pale, her eyes flashed indignantly as she hastily returned the young Austrians' bow and at once went back to her post.

Sterzl, who was talking to Truyn in a recess and saw the little scene from a distance, frowned darkly. Sempaly meanwhile seated himself on a stool by his cousins and with his back to the tea-table where Zinka was busying herself.

"So this is the far-famed Zinka Sterzl!" exclaimed Polyxena: "She does credit to your taste, Nicki. But she allows herself to speak to you in a very extraordinary manner; it is really rather too much!" Sempaly made no reply. "She treats you already as if you were her own property."

"But Xena," said Nini, trying to moderate her sister's irony, "at least do not speak so loud." In a few minutes Mr. Ellis came to announce that Monsieur B. was about to play his 'Arab symphony,' and the company moved back into the drawing-room.

The evening had other treats in store; when Monsieur B. had done his place was taken by a young Belgian count who devoted all his spare time to the composition of funeral marches, who could also play songs and ballads, such as are usually confined to the streets of Florence or the _cafes chantants_ of Paris, arranged for the piano, and who gave a duet between a c.o.c.k and hen with so much feeling and effect that all the audience applauded heartily, especially the Jatinskys to whom this style of thing was quite a novelty. Then Mrs. Ferguson sang her French couplets, Mr. Ellis played an adagio by Beethoven on the concertina, and then Zinka was asked to sing.

"What am I to sing? You know the extent of my collection," she said with rather forced brightness to Mr. Ellis.

"Oh! a Stornello. We beg for a Stornello," said Siegburg following her to the piano--"_vieni maggio, vieni primavera_," and Lady Julia seconded the request.

Zinka laid her hands on the keys and began. Her voice sounded through the room a little husky at first, but very sweet, like the note of a forest bird.

Never before had she sat down to sing without bringing _him_ to her side, even from the remotest corner of the room, at the very first notes; and now, involuntarily, she looked up to meet his gaze--but he was sitting by Polyxena, on a small sofa, in a very familiar att.i.tude, leaning back, holding one foot on the other knee, and laughing at something that she was whispering to him. Zinka lost her self-command and was suddenly paralyzed with self-consciousness. She could not sing that song before him. Her voice broke; she forgot the accompaniment; felt about the notes, struck two or three wrong chords and at length rose with an awkward laugh:

"I cannot remember anything this evening!" she stammered.

Polyxena had some spiteful comment to make, of course, and Sempaly grew angry; he was on the point of rising to go to Zinka and console her for her failure, but before he could quite make up his mind to move, Nini had risen. In spite of her shyness she made her way straight across the room to Zinka and said something kind to her. Sempaly stayed where he was; but as they were leaving, he put on Nini's cloak for her, and said in a low tone: "Nini, you are a good fellow!" and he kissed her hand.

Sempaly's attentions had made Zinka the fas.h.i.+on; his sudden discontinuance, not merely of attentions, but of any but the barest civilities, of course, made her the laughing-stock of all their circle.

The capital caricature that Sempaly had drawn of Sterzl and his sister that evening at the Vulpinis' was remembered once more; Madame de Gandry, to whom Sempaly had been very civil till he had neglected her for Zinka, showed the sketch to all her acquaintance, with a plentiful seasoning of spiteful insinuations. Every one was ready to laugh at the "little adventuress" who had come to Rome to bid for a prince's coronet and who had been obliged to submit to such condign humiliation.

The leaders of foreign society vied with each other in doing honor to the Jatinskys. Madame de Gandry set the example by giving a party at which Ristori was engaged to recite; Sterzl was of course, invited; his mother and sister were left out. It was the first time since Zinka's appearance at the Ilsenberghs' that she had been omitted from any entertainment, however select. Many ladies of the international circle followed Madame de Gandry's lead, wis.h.i.+ng like her to make a parade before the Austrians of their own exclusiveness, and at the same time to be revenged on Zinka for many a saucy speech she had ventured to make when she was still one of the initiated--of the sacred inner circle. The Italian society of Rome did not of course trouble itself about all these trumpery subtleties, and behaved to Zinka with the same superficial politeness as before.

She, for her part, took no more note of their amenities than she did of the pin-p.r.i.c.ks from the other side. If her feelings had not been so deeply engaged by Sempaly she would no doubt have taken all these petty social humiliations very hardly; but her anguish of soul had dulled her shallower feelings. There is a form of suffering which deadens the senses and which mockery cannot touch. It was all the same to her whether she was invited or not--she could not bear to go anywhere. The idea of meeting Sempaly with his cousins was as terrible as death itself. She was an altered creature. A shy, scared smile was always on her lips, like the ghost of departed joys, her movements had lost all their elasticity, and her gait was more than ever like that of an angel whose wings have been clipped.

Baroness Sterzl, of course, still drove out regularly on the Corso, and made the most praiseworthy attempts to keep up a bowing acquaintance with her former friends, and as often as she could she went out in the evening--alone. There was some consolation too in the proud consciousness of having quarrelled with Madame de Gandry and being on visiting terms with all the Roman d.u.c.h.esses. The only thing that caused her any serious discomfort was her sister Wolnitzka's persistent and indiscreet catechism as to the state of affairs between Zinka and Sempaly. She herself, out of mere idle bragging, had told Charlotte the first day of her arrival in Rome that Zinka's engagement was not yet made public.

Her aunt's coa.r.s.e remarks and hints were fast driving Zinka crazy when Siegburg fortunately--perhaps intentionally, out of compa.s.sion for her--so frightened the mother and daughter, one evening when he met them at the palazetto, by his account of the Roman fever that they were panic-stricken, and fled the very next morning to Naples.