Woman and Artist Part 15

"Oh, no thank you, please don't," replied Dora.

"Some time ago," continued Lorimer, "I used to meet her often at parties. She is a rather clever little woman, and has the knack of turning out readable paragraphs. She is tolerated everywhere for the sake of what she writes--you know, there are plenty of people who like publicity."

Lorimer had noticed that the lady reporter had let fall two leaves from her notebook. He watched his opportunity, picked them up, and brought them to Dora.

"Look, we are going to have some fun. I have samples. Listen, 'Lady Mardon looked thrillingly lovely in electric blue ... her superb shoulders'" ...

"Enough, enough," said Dora. "The idea of it."

"Wait a minute; here is something else. 'Lady Margaret Solby wore a dream of sea-green and salmon, and was the admiration of everyone. Mrs.

Van der Leyd Smythe received congratulations on all sides on the subject of her daughter's marriage with the young Earl of Gampton.'"

"And people read that!" said Dora.

"Certainly, and, more wonderful still, people buy it. Oh, listen to this, here is something that concerns you personally. 'Mrs. Philip Grantham wore a dress of white satin, trimmed with lace and silver embroidery, and, blazing with diamonds and emeralds, received her guests with a simplicity and a grace which will speedily make her one of the most popular hostesses in London.' Now, that is what I call amiable; she treats you with generosity." And seeing that Dora seemed very much annoyed, he added, "That is the kind of literature that delights our modest countrywomen."

"There are no more journalists," said Dora, with disgust, "there are only _concierges_."

She took the pages and tore them in shreds. Then, with a little feeling of shame at having been amusing herself at the expense of her guests, she rose, made a little sign to Lorimer, and was soon swallowed up in the crush, saying a few pleasant words here and there to her acquaintances as she went.

Lorimer went down to the buffet, where he found Schowalski, who was going in heavily for sandwiches, cakes and ices and champagne. The appet.i.te of musicians is proverbial!

"Ah, Monsieur Lorimer," said he, "I am so glad to see you, you will be the very man to render me a little service. I have just finished," he added in confidence, "a grand concerto in four parts for the piano. In that concerto I have expressed all the great sorrows of life: First, an adagio--sad, full of tears; then a grand allegro, full of despair. You understand, don't you? Well, what I am trying to find is a t.i.tle, a telling t.i.tle. As a playwright you know the importance of a good t.i.tle.

Can you suggest something?"

"My dear sir," said Lorimer, "great sorrows are silent."

"What do you mean?" asked the pianist, for whom British humour was a closed letter. "Are you joking with me? How can one be silent and make music?"

The most thankless task in the world is explaining a joke to a person who has not seen it. Lorimer did not try, and after suggesting _Les peines du Coeur_, _Angoisses de l'ame_, _Le Mal de dents_, _Les Desespoirs de l'Amour_, and a few other eye-tickling t.i.tles, he left the puzzled composer and made his way upstairs. It was close upon midnight, the hour at which supper was to be served.

XI

GENERAL SABAROFF

Philip was here, there, and everywhere, playing the host to the admiration of all. Everyone voted him charming. The most exacting society critics admired the ease with which he did the honours of his house, and declared that Philip Grantham was a gentleman. The English man of the world has no higher dignity to confer.

No one thought of going away, although the crowd began to be stifling, but an English crowd is ready to endure anything in order to contemplate at close quarters the celebrity of the moment. The lion that they were expecting to roar for them this evening was General Sabaroff, the _piece de resistance_ of the evening.

Philip began to fear that the General had been detained by some unforeseen business, and would not put in an appearance after all. He had not sent out invitations "to meet General Sabaroff," but he had told a great many of his guests beforehand that he expected him; one person had told another; and it came to much the same thing.

He caught sight of de Lussac, who threw him an appealing little glance which plainly said, "Come to my rescue." He found the young diplomat in the toils of Mrs. Van der Leyd Smythe. He joined them and led off de Lussac, after having pa.s.sed the lady on to an old banker who happened to be standing near, alone and negotiable.

"My dear fellow," said de Lussac, "I owe you a debt of grat.i.tude for having extracted me from the clutches of that American mamma. I have had to listen to the history of the n.o.ble house of Gampton. Upon my word, a lot of those worthy Americans are prouder of their aristocratic alliances than of the brave pioneers who founded the United States. They would sell all the s.h.i.+rt sleeves that felled the forests of America for the coat-of-arms of some ancestor enn.o.bled, a few centuries ago, for something which to-day would perhaps be rewarded with a few years' penal servitude."

"Sn.o.bbishness," said Philip, "is a disease that one meets with in all Anglo-Saxons, but with terrible complications in certain Americans....

I almost expected the Minister for War. His lords.h.i.+p promised me he would come."

"If I were you," replied de Lussac, "I would not count upon him. I know he is very busy to-day. Special order to send to Woolwich a.r.s.enal; a message of congratulation to telegraph to the Sirdar on his victory at Atbara; orders to send to various regiments to hold themselves in readiness to set out for India--it appears there is rather disquieting news in the North-West; a consultation with the Commander-in-Chief; a Cabinet Council. Besides which, I fancy, he has promised to speak to-night at a meeting of the Peace a.s.sociation at the Queen's Hall: the ubiquity of some of you Englishmen is simply prodigious."

"A fine programme," said Philip, "a well-filled day indeed--I should have been pleased to receive his congratulations. Oh, he must be vexed to have been, so to speak, the cause of the refusal I have met with in my own country. Why did they refuse my sh.e.l.l? I should have been prouder of my invention if I had been able to ensure the advantages of it to my motherland."

"My dear fellow, the English do not invent; they buy the inventions of outsiders when they are successful. They looked upon the inventor of the Suez Ca.n.a.l as a dangerous lunatic; to turn him from his project they went so far as to rake up an old theory of Herodotus, that the Red Sea and the Mediterranean were on different levels. At the present day, they hold four millions-worth of stock in the concern, and would only like to have the lot. The fact is, if ever England should meet with a great reverse, if ever she comes to grief, she will have only her vanity and self-confidence to thank."

"Our security is so great."

"I know that," said de Lussac, laughing--"your volunteers can insure their lives without paying any extra premium. By-the-bye, General Sabaroff is in London. He says he has come over to consult a certain oculist. You may be sure, dear boy, that the eye he is concerned about is the one he means to keep on you."

"I know he is in town--I expect him to-night."

"I heard that just now in the other room--you lose no time."

De Lussac drew Philip towards the landing, which was clear of people for the moment.

"With the General, I don't see that you need make a secret of your sh.e.l.l. Russia is our ally; it is to our advantage that she should possess the best possible weapons; and I don't believe the French Government would have any objection to Russia's profiting by your invention."

"Really?" said Philip anxiously--"nor do I. I had already thought of it in that light myself, I confess."

"Well, you are a gallant man, I must say, to leave me in the lurch like that," cried Mrs. Van der Leyd Smythe, who now came up. "You went off just as I was going to introduce you to three prominent American women who are dying to make your acquaintance."

"Well then, by all means, let us go and save their lives," said de Lussac.

"One of them," said his companion, as she led him towards the small drawing-room, "is a well-known literary woman, another is a celebrated public speaker, and the other" ...

"Oh, please," exclaimed de Lussac, "can't you introduce me to some pretty woman who has never done anything at all?"

A servant, who had just come upstairs, announced in a loud voice, "His Excellency General Sabaroff."

The name pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth, and there was a general lull in the conversation; the crowd surged towards the door, and with frantic cranings of the neck endeavoured to get a glimpse of the new arrival.

Dora had recognised him at once. He had not changed. Sabaroff, on his side, as soon as he caught sight of Dora at the top of the staircase, had exclaimed inwardly, "It is she after all; I was told right--it is my lovely English girl of Monte Carlo."

Not a look nor a movement of Sabaroff or of Dora had escaped Philip: "It is the same man," he said to himself--"they recognise each other."

He moved towards the General.

"Your Excellency is very good to have come," he said.

And, leading him to where Dora was standing, he went through with an introduction.

Sabaroff bowed, kissed Dora's hand respectfully, and addressed a few commonplace words to her to excuse himself for coming so late.

General Ivan Sabaroff, Minister of War to his Majesty the Czar and Autocrat of all the Russias, was forty-five years of age, but, thanks to the military bearing which always rejuvenates a man's appearance by a few years, he looked scarcely forty. The ladies declared at once that he was a superb man, and indeed the General had a striking-looking appearance.

In the streets of any town, people would have turned round to look at him, the women saying, "What a fine man!" the men, "That is somebody!"