CHAPTER V
The Count de Brensault was a small man, with a large pale face. Therewere puffy little bags under his eyes, from which the colour haddeparted. His hair, though skilfully arranged, was very thin at thetop, and his figure had the lumpiness of the man who has never knownany sort of athletic training. He looked a dozen years older than hisage, which was in reality thirty-five, and for the last ten years hehad been a constant though cautious devotee of every form ofdissipation. Jeanne, who sat by his side at dinner-time, found herselflooking at him more than once in a sort of fascinated wonder. Was itreally possible that any one could believe her capable of marrying sucha creature! There were eight people at dinner, in none of whom she wasin the least interested. The Count de Brensault talked a good deal, andvery loudly. He spoke of his horses and his dogs and his motor cars,but he omitted to say that he had ceased to ride his horses, and thathe never drove his motor car. Jeanne listened to him in quiet contempt,and the Princess fidgetted in her chair. The man ought to know thatthis was not the way to impress a child fresh from boarding-school!
"You seem," Jeanne remarked, after listening to him almost in silencefor a long time, "to give most of your time to sports. Do you playpolo?"
He shook his head.
"I am too heavy," he said, "and the game, it is a little dangerous."
"Do you hunt?" she asked.
"No!" he admitted. "In Belgium we do not hunt."
"Do you race with your motor cars?"
"I entered one," he answered, "for the Prix des Ardennes. It was thethird. My driver, he was not very clever."
"You did not drive it yourself, then?" she asked.
He laughed in a superior manner.
"I do not wish," he said, "to have a broken neck. There are so manythings in life which I still find very pleasant."
He smiled at her in a knowing manner, and Jeanne looked away to hideher disgust.
"Your interest in sport," she remarked, "seems to be a sort ofsecond-hand one, does it not?"
"I do not know that," he answered. "I do not know quite what you mean.At Ostend last year I won the great sweepstakes."
"For shooting pigeons?" she asked.
"So!" he admitted, with content.
She smiled.
"I see that I must beg your pardon," she said. "Have you ever done anybig game shooting?"
He shook his head.
"I do not like to travel very much," he answered. "I do not like thecooking, and I think that my tastes are what you would call verycivilized."
The Princess intervened. She felt that it was necessary at any cost todo so.
"The Count," she told Jeanne, "has just been elected a member of theFour-in-Hand Club here. If we are very nice to him he will take us outin his coach."
"As soon," De Brensault interposed hastily, "as I have found anotherteam not quite so what you call spirited. My black horses are verybeautiful, but I do not like to drive them. They pull very hard, andthey always try to run away."
The Princess sighed. The man, after all, was really a little hopeless.She saw clearly that it was useless to try and impress Jeanne. Theaffair must take its course. Afterwards in the drawing-room the Countcame and sat by Jeanne's side.
"Always," he declared, "in England it is bridge. One dines with one'sfriends, and one would like to talk for a little time, and it isbridge. It must be very dull for you little girls who are not oldenough to play. There is no one left to talk to you."
Jeanne smiled.
"Perhaps," she said, "I am an exception. There are very few people whomI care to have talk to me."
She looked him in the eyes, but he was unfortunately a very spoiltyoung man, and he only stroked the waxed tip of a scanty moustache.
"I am very glad to hear you say so, mademoiselle," he said. "That makesit the more pleasant that your excellent mother gives me one quarter ofan hour's respite from bridge that we may have a little conversation.Have you ever been in my country, Miss Le Mesurier?"
"I have only travelled through it," Jeanne answered; "but I am afraidthat you did not understand what I meant just now. I said that therewere very few people with whom I cared to talk. You are not one ofthose few, Monsieur le Comte."
He looked at her with a half-open mouth. His eyes were suddenly likebeads.
"I do not understand," he said.
"I am afraid," Jeanne answered, with a sigh, "that you are veryunintelligent. What I meant to say was that I do not like to sit hereand talk with you. It wearies me, because you do not say anything thatinterests me, and I should very much rather read my book."
The Count de Brensault was nonplussed. He looked at Jeanne, and helooked vaguely across the room at the Princess, as though wonderingwhether he ought to appeal to her.
"Have I offended you?" he asked. "Perhaps I have said something thatyou do not like. I am sorry."
"No, it is not that at all," Jeanne answered sweetly. "It is simplythat I do not like you. You must not mind if I tell you the truth. Yousee I have only just come from boarding-school, and there we werealways taught to be quite truthful."
De Brensault stared at her again. This was the most extraordinary youngwoman whom he had ever met in his life. Had not the Princess only anhour ago told him that although he might find her a little difficult atfirst, she was nevertheless prepared to receive his advances. He hadimagined himself dazzling her a little with his title and possessions,gracefully throwing the handkerchief at her feet, and giving her thatslight share in his life and affection which his somewhat continentalideas of domesticity suggested. Had she really meant to be rude to him,or was she nervous? He looked at her once more, still with thatunintelligent stare. Jeanne was perfectly composed, with her palecheeks and large serious eyes. She was obviously speaking the truth.Then as he looked the expression in his eyes changed. She was graduallybecoming desirable, not only on account of her youth and dowry--therewere other things. He felt a sudden desire to kiss those very shapely,somewhat full lips, which had just told him so calmly that their ownerdisliked him. Already he was telling himself in his mind that some day,when she was his altogether, for a plaything or what he chose to makeof her, he would remind her of this evening.
"I am sorry," he said, "that you do not like me, but that is becauseyou are not used to men. Presently you will know me better, and then Iam sure it will be different. As for you," he continued, looking at herin a manner which he felt should certainly awaken some differentfeeling in her inexperienced heart, "I admire you very much indeed. Ihave seen you only once or twice, but I have thought of you much. Someday I hope that we shall be very much better friends."
He leaned a little toward her, and Jeanne calmly removed herself alittle further away. She turned her head now to look at him, as she satupright upon the sofa, very slim and graceful in her white gown.
"I do not think so," she said. "I do not care about being friendly withpeople whom I dislike, and I am beginning to dislike you very muchindeed because you will not go away when I ask you."
He rose to his feet a little offended.
"Very well," he said, "I will go and talk to your stepmother, who wantsme to play bridge, but very soon I shall come back, and before long Ithink that I am going to make you like me very much."
He crossed the room, and Jeanne's eyes followed his awkward gait with asudden flash of quiet amusement. She watched him talk to herstepmother, and she saw the Princess' face darken. As a matter of factDe Brensault felt that he had some just cause for complaint.
"Dear Princess," he said, "you did not tell me that she was so veryfarouche, so very shy indeed. I speak to her quite kindly, and shetells me that she does not like me, and that she wished me to go away."
The Princess looked across the room towards Jeanne, who was calmlyreading, and apparently oblivious of everything that was passing.
"My dear Count," she said, tapping his hand with her fan, "she is very,very serious. She would like to have been a nun, but of course we wouldnot hear of it. I think that she was a l
ittle afraid of you. You lookedat her very boldly, you know, and she is not used to the glances ofmen. At her age, perhaps--you understand?"
The Count was not quite sure that he did understand. He had a mostunpleasant recollection of the firmness and decision with which Jeannehad announced her views with regard to him, but he looked towards heragain and the look was fatal. Jeanne was certainly a most desirableyoung person, quite apart from her dowry.
"It may be as you say, Princess," he said. "I must leave her to you fora little time. You must talk to her. She is quite pretty," he addedwith an involuntary note of condescension in his tone. "I am verypleased with her. In fact I am quite attracted."
"You will remember," the Princess said, dropping her voice a little,"that before anything definite is said, you and I must have a littleconversation."
De Brensault twirled his moustache. He looked up at the Princess asthough trying to fathom the meaning of her words.
"Certainly," he answered slowly. "I have not forgotten what you said.Of course, her dot is very large, is it not?"
"It is very large indeed," the Princess answered, "and there are agreat many young men who would be very grateful to me indeed if I werewilling even to listen to them."
De Brensault nodded.
"Very well," he said. "We will have that little talk whenever you like."
The Princess nodded.
"I suppose," she said, "we must play bridge now. They are waiting forus."
De Brensault looked behind to where Jeanne was still sitting reading.Her head was resting upon a sofa pillow, deep orange coloured, againstwhich the purity of her complexion, the delicate lines of her eyebrows,the shapeliness of her exquisite mouth, were all more than evermanifest. She read with interest, and without turning her head awayfrom the pages of the book which she held in long, slender fingers. DeBrensault sighed as he turned away.
"Certainly," he said. "We will go and play bridge. But I will tell youwhat it is, my dear Princess. I think I am very near falling in lovewith your little stepdaughter."