Cecilia Part 20

Then she looked at her mother, and seemed to hesitate.

"May I go and sit down?" she asked, in a low voice. "I am so tired!"

"Of course, child!" answered the Countess, cheerfully. "Signor d'Este will take you to the seat over there by the fountain. I hardly think that any one else will come now."

Guido and Cecilia moved away, and the Countess smiled affectionately at their backs. Some one said that they were a very well-matched pair, and another asked if it were true that Signor d'Este would inherit the Princess Anatolie's fortune at her death. A third observed that she would never die; and a fourth, who was going to dine with her that evening, said that she was a very charming woman; whereupon everybody laughed a little, and the Countess changed the subject.

Cecilia was really tired, and gave a little sigh of satisfaction as she sat down and leaned back. Guido looked at her and hesitated.

"I must have shaken hands with at least two hundred people," she said, "and I am sure I have spoken to as many more!"

"Do you like it?" Guido asked, by way of gaining time.

"What an idle question!" laughed Cecilia.

"I had another to ask you," he answered gravely. "Not an idle one."

She looked at him quickly, wondering whether he was going to ask her to be his wife, and wondering, too, what she should answer if he did. For some days past she had understood that what they called their compact of friends.h.i.+p was becoming a mere comedy on his side, if not on hers, and that he loved her with all his heart, though he had not told her so.

"It is rather an odd question," he continued, as she said nothing. "You have not formally given me any right to ask it, and yet I feel that I have the right, all the same."

"Friends.h.i.+p gives rights, and takes them," Cecilia answered thoughtfully.

"Exactly. That is what I feel about it. That is why I think I may ask you something that may seem strange. At all events, I cannot go on living in doubt about the answer."

"Is it as important as that?" asked the young girl.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"Wait a moment. Let these people pa.s.s. How in the world did you succeed in getting so many roses to grow in such a short time?"

"You must ask the gardener," Cecilia answered, in order to say something while a young couple pa.s.sed before the bench, evidently very much absorbed in each other's conversation.

Guido bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and not looking at her, but turning his face a little, so that he could speak in a very low tone with an outward appearance of carelessness. It was very hard to put the question, after all, now that he was so near her, and felt her thrilling presence.

"Our agreement is a failure," he began. "At all events, it is one on my side. I really did not think it would turn out as it has."

She said nothing, and he knew that she did not move, and was looking at the people in the distance. He knew, also, that she understood him and had expected something of the sort. That made it a little easier to go on.

"That is the reason why I am going to ask you this question. What has there ever been between you and Lamberti? Why do you turn deathly pale when you meet him, and why does he try to avoid you?"

He heard her move now, and he slowly turned his face till he could see hers. The colour in her cheeks had deepened a little, and there was an angry light in her eyes which he had never seen there. But she said not a word in answer.

"Do you love him?" Guido asked in a very low tone, and his voice trembled slightly.

"No!" The word came with sharp energy.

"How long have you known him?" Guido enquired.

"Since I have known you. I met him first on the same day. I have not spoken with him since. I tried to-day, I could not."

"Why not?"

"Do not ask me. I cannot tell you."

"Are you speaking the truth?" Guido asked, suddenly meeting her eyes.

She drew back with a quick movement, deeply offended and angry at the brutal question.

"How dare you doubt what I tell you!" She seemed about to rise.

"I beg your pardon," he said humbly. "I really beg your pardon. It is all so strange. I hardly knew what I was saying. Please forgive me!"

"I will try," Cecilia answered. "But I think I would rather go back now.

We cannot talk here."

She rose to her feet, but Guido tried to detain her, remaining seated and looking up.

"Please, please stay a little longer!" he pleaded.

"No."

"You are still angry with me?"

"No. But I cannot talk to you yet. If you do not come with me, I shall go back alone."

There was nothing to be done. He rose and walked by her side in silence.

The garden was almost empty now, and the Countess herself had gone in to get a cup of tea.

"The roses are really marvellous," Guido remarked in a set tone, as they came to the door.

Suddenly they were face to face with Lamberti, who was coming out, hat in hand. He had waited for his opportunity, watching them from a distance, and Guido knew it instinctively. He was quite cool and collected, and smiled pleasantly as he spoke to Cecilia.

"May I not have the pleasure of talking with you a little, Signorina?"

he asked.

Guido could not help looking anxiously at the young girl.

"Certainly," she answered, without hesitation. "You will find my mother near the tea table, Signor d'Este," she added, to Guido. "It is really time that I should make your friend's acquaintance!"

He was as much amazed at her self-possession now as he had been at her evident disturbance before. He drew back as Cecilia turned away from him after speaking, and he stood looking after the pair a few seconds before he went in. At that moment he would have gladly strangled the man who had so long been his best friend. He had never guessed that he could wish to kill any one.

Lamberti did not make vague remarks about the roses as Guido had done, on the mere chance that some one might hear him, and indeed there was now hardly anybody to hear. As for Cecilia, her anger against Guido had sustained her at first, but she could not have talked unconcernedly now, as she walked beside Lamberti, waiting for him to speak. She felt just then that she would have walked on and on, whithersoever he chose to lead her, and until it pleased him to stop.

"D'Este asked me this afternoon how long I had known you," he said, at last. "I said that I had spoken with you twice, once at the Princess's, and once to-day. Was that right?"

"Yes. Did he believe you?"