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  II

  THOMERY'S TWO LOVES

  Two days before the sinister drama, details of which Jerome Fandor hadgiven in _La Capitale_, the smart little town house inhabited by theBaroness de Vibray, in the Avenue Henri-Martin, assumed a festiveappearance.

  This did not surprise her neighbours, for they knew the owner of thischarming residence was very much a woman of the world, whosereception-rooms were constantly opened to the many distinguishedParisians forming her circle of acquaintances.

  It was seven in the evening when the Baroness, dressed for dinner,passed from her own room into the small drawing-room adjoining. Crossinga carpet so thick and soft that it deadened the sound of footsteps, shepressed the button of an electric bell beside the fireplace. Amajor-domo, of the most correct appearance, presented himself.

  "The Baroness rang for me?"

  Madame de Vibray, who had instinctively sought the flattering approvalof her mirror, half turned:

  "I wish to know if anyone called this afternoon, Antoine?"

  "For the Baroness?"

  "Of course!" she replied, a note of impatience in her voice: "I want toknow if anyone called to see _me_ this afternoon?"

  "No, madame."

  "No one has telephoned from the Barbey-Nanteuil Bank?"

  "No, madame."

  Repressing a slight feeling of annoyance, Madame de Vibray changed thesubject:

  "You will have dinner served as soon as the guests arrive. They will notbe later than half-past seven, I suppose."

  Antoine bowed solemnly, vanished into the anteroom, and from thencegained the servants' hall.

  Madame de Vibray quitted the small drawing-room. Traversing the greatgallery with its glass roof, encircling the staircase, she entered thedining-room. Covers were laid for three.

  Inspecting the table arrangements with the eye of a mistress of thehouse, she straightened the line of some plates, gave a touch ofdistinction to the flowers scattered over the table in a conventionaldisorder; then she went to the sideboard, where the major-domo had lefta china pot filled with flowers. With a slight shrug, the Baronesscarried the pot to its usual place--a marble column at the further endof the room:

  "It was fortunate I came to see how things were! Antoine is a goodfellow, but a hare-brained one too!" thought she.

  Madame de Vibray paused a moment: the light from an electric lamp shoneon the vase and wonderfully enhanced its glittering beauty. It was apiece of faience decorated in the best taste. On its graceful form theartist had traced the lines of an old colour print, and had scrupulouslypreserved the picture born of an eighteenth-century artist'simagination, with its brilliancy of tone and soft background of tendergrey. Madame de Vibray could not tear herself away from thecontemplation of it. Not only did the design and the treatment pleaseher, but she also felt a kind of maternal affection for the artist:"This dear Jacques," she murmured, "has decidedly a great deal oftalent, and I like to think that in a short time his reputation...."

  Her reflections were interrupted by the servant. The good Antoineannounced in a low voice, and with a touch of respectful reproach in histone:

  "Monsieur Thomery awaits the Baroness in the small drawing-room: he hasbeen waiting ten minutes."

  "Very well. I am coming."

  Madame de Vibray, whose movements were all harmonious grace, returned byway of the gallery to greet her guest. She paused on the threshold ofthe small drawing-room, smiling graciously.

  Framed in the dark drapery of the heavy door-curtains, the soft lightfrom globes of ground glass falling on her, the Baroness de Vibrayappeared a very attractive woman still. Her figure had retained itsyouthful slenderness, her neck, white as milk, was as round and fresh asa girl's; and had the hair about her forehead and temples not beenturning grey--the Baroness wore it powdered, a piece of coquettishaffection on her part--she would not have looked a day more than thirty.

  Monsieur Thomery rose hastily, and advanced to meet her. He kissed herhand with a gallant air:

  "My dear Mathilde," he declared with an admiring glance, "you aredecidedly an exquisite woman!"

  The Baroness replied by a glance, in which there was somethingambiguous, something of ironical mockery:

  "How are you, Norbert?" she asked in an affectionate tone.... "And thosepains?"

  They seated themselves on a low couch, and began to discuss theirrespective aches and pains in friendly fashion. Whilst listening to hiscomplaints, Madame de Vibray could not but admire his remarkable vigour,his air of superb health: his looks gave the lie to his words.

  About fifty-five, Monsieur Norbert Thomery seemed to be in the plenitudeof his powers; his premature baldness was redeemed by the vivacity ofhis dark brown eyes, also by his long, thick moustache, probably dyed.He looked like an old soldier. He was the last of the great Thomeryfamily who, for many generations, had been sugar refiners. His was apersonality well known in Parisian Society; always first at his officeor his factories, as soon as night fell he became the man of the world,frequenting fashionable drawing-rooms, theatrical first-nights, officialreceptions, and balls in the aristocratic circles of the faubourgSaint-Germain.

  Remarkably handsome, extremely rich, Thomery had had many love affairs.Gossips had it that between him and Madame de Vibray there had existed atender intimacy; and, for once, gossip was right. But they had beentactful, had respected the conventions whilst their irregular union hadlasted. Though now a thing of the past, for Thomery had sought otherloves, his passion for the Baroness had changed to a calm, strong,semi-brotherly affection; whilst Madame de Vibray retained a morelively, a more tender feeling for the man whom she had known as the mostgallant of lovers.

  Thomery suddenly ceased talking of his rheumatism:

  "But, my dear friend, I do not see that pretty smile which is yourgreatest charm! How is that?"

  Madame de Vibray looked sad: her beautiful eyes gazed deep into those ofThomery:

  "Ah," she murmured, "one cannot be eternally smiling; life sometimesholds painful surprises in store for us."

  "Is something worrying you?" Thomery's tone was one of anxious sympathy.

  "Yes and no," was her evasive reply. There was a silence; then she said:

  "It is always the same thing! I have no hesitation in telling you that,you, my old friend: it is a money wound--happily it is not mortal."

  Thomery nodded:

  "Well, I declare it is just what I expected! My poor Mathilde, are younever going to be sensible?"

  The Baroness pouted: "You know quite well I am sensible ... only ithappens that there are moments when one is short of cash! Yesterday Iasked my bankers to send me fifty thousand francs, and I have not hearda word from them!"

  "That is no great matter! The Barbey-Nanteuil credit cannot be shaken!"

  "Oh," cried the Baroness, "I have no fears on that score; but, as arule, their delay in sending me what I ask for is of the briefest, yetno one has come from them to-day."

  Thomery began scolding her gently:

  "Ah, Mathilde, that you should be in such pressing need of so large asum must mean that you have been drawn into some deplorable speculation!I will wager that you invested in those Oural copper mines after all!"

  "I thought the shares were going up," was Madame de Vibray's excuse: shelowered her eyes like a naughty schoolgirl caught in the act.

  Thomery, who had risen, and was walking up and down the room, halted infront of her:

  "I do beg of you to consult those who know all the ins and outs, personscompetent to advise you, when you are bent on plunging into speculationsof this description! The Barbey-Nanteuil people can give you reliableinformation; I myself, you know..."

  "But since it is really of no importance!" interrupted Madame de Vibray,who had no wish to listen to the remonstrances of her too prudentfriend: "What does it matter? It is my only diversion now!... I lovegambling--the emotions it arouses in one, the perpetual hopes and fearsit excites!"

  Thomery was about to reply, to argue, to remonstrate further, but
theBaroness had caught him glancing at the clock hanging beside thefireplace:

  "I am making you dine late," she said in a tone of apology. Then, with atouch of malice, and looking up at Thomery from under her eyes, to seehow he took it:

  "You are to be rewarded for having to wait!... I have invited PrincessSonia Danidoff to dine with you!"

  Thomery started. He frowned. He again seated himself beside theBaroness:

  "You have invited her?..."

  "Yes ... and why not?... I believe this pretty woman is one of yourspecial friends... that you consider her the most charming of all yourfriends now!..."

  Thomery did not take up the challenge: he simply said:

  "I had an idea that the Princess was not much to your taste!"

  The eyes of Madame de Vibray flashed a sad, strange look on her oldfriend, as she said gently:

  "One can accustom oneself to anything and everything, my dearfriend.... Besides, I quite recognise that the Princess deservesthe reputation she enjoys of being wonderfully beautiful and alsointellectual...."

  Thomery did not reply to this: he looked puzzled, annoyed....

  The Baroness continued:

  "They even say that handsome bachelor, Monsieur Thomery, is notindifferent to her fascinations!... That, for the first time in hislife, he is ready to link ..."

  "Oh, as for that!..." Thomery was protesting, when the door opened, andthe Princess Sonia Danidoff rustled into the room, a superbly--adazzlingly beautiful vision, all audacity and charm.

  "Accept all my apologies, dear Baroness," she cried, "for arriving solate; but the streets are so crowded!"

  "... And I live such a long way out!" added Madame de Vibray.

  "You live in a charming part," amended the Princess. Then, catchingsight of Thomery:

  "Why, you!" she cried. And, with a gracious and dignified gesture, thePrincess extended her hand, which the wealthy sugar refiner hastened tokiss.

  At this moment the double doors were flung wide, and Antoine, with hismost solemn air, his most stiff-starched manner, announced:

  "Dinner is served!"

  "... No," cried she, smiling, whilst she refused the arm offered by herold friend; "take in the Princess, dear friend; I will follow ... bymyself!"

  Thomery obeyed. He passed slowly along the gallery into the dining-roomwith the Princess. Behind them came the Baroness, who watched them asthey went: Thomery, big, muscular, broad-shouldered: Sonia Danidoff,slim, pliant, refined, dainty!

  Checking a deep sigh, the Baroness could not help thinking, and herheart ached at the thought:

  "What a fine couple they would make!... What a fine couple they willmake!"

  But, as she seated herself opposite her guests, she said to herself:

  "Bah!... I must send sad thoughts flying!... It is high time!"

  "My dear Thomery!" she cried playfully: "I wish--I expect you to showyourself the most charming of men to your delicious neighbour!"

  Ten o'clock had struck before Madame de Vibray and her guests left thedinner-table and proceeded to the small drawing-room. Thomery wasallowed to smoke in their presence; besides, the Princess had accepted aTurkish cigarette, and the Baroness had allowed herself a liqueur. Amost excellent dinner and choice wines had loosened tongues, and, inaccordance with a prearranged plan, Madame de Vibray had directed theconversation imperceptibly into the channels she wished it to follow.Thus she learned what she had feared to know, namely, that a veryserious flirtation had been going on for some time between Thomery andthe Princess; that between this beautiful and wealthy young widow andthe millionaire sugar refiner, the flirtation was rapidly developinginto something much warmer and more lasting. So far, the final stagehad evidently not been reached; nevertheless, Thomery had suggested,tentatively, that he would like to give a grand ball when he tookpossession of the new house which he was having built for himself in thepark Monceau!... And had he not been so extremely anxious to secure apartner for the cotillion which he meant to lead!... Then Madame deVibray had suggested that the person obviously fitted to play thisimportant part was the Princess Sonia Danidoff! Who better!

  The suggestion was welcomed by both: it was settled there and then.

  "Yes," thought the Baroness, "Thomery's marriage is practicallyarranged, that is evident!... Well, I must resign myself to theinevitable!"

  It was about half-past eleven when Sonia Danidoff rose to take leave ofher hostess. Thomery, hesitating, looked first at his old friend, thenat the Princess, asking himself what he ought to do. Madame de Vibrayfelt secretly grateful to him for this momentary hesitation. As a womanwhose mourning for a dead love is over, she spoke out bravely:

  "Dear friend," said she, "surely you are not going to let the Princessreturn alone?... I hope she will allow you to see her safely home?"

  The Princess pressed the hands of her generous hostess: she was radiant:

  "What a good kind friend you are!" she cried in an outburst of sincereaffection. Then, with a questioning glance, in which there was a touchof uneasiness, a slight hesitation, she said:

  "Ah, do let me kiss you!"

  For all reply Madame de Vibray opened her arms; the two women clungtogether, sealing with their kiss the treaty of peace both wished tokeep.

  When the humming of the motor-car, which bore off the Princess andThomery, had died away in the distance, Madame de Vibray retired to herroom. A tear rolled down her cheek:

  "A little bit of my heart has gone with them," she murmured. The poorwoman sighed deeply: "Ah, it is my whole heart that has gone!"

  There was a discreet knock at the door. She mastered her emotion. It wasthe dignified mistress of the house who said quietly:

  "Come in!"

  It was Antoine, who presented two letters on a silver salver. Heexplained that, believing his mistress to be anxiously awaiting somenews, he had ventured to bring up the last post at this late hour.

  After bidding Antoine good night, she recalled him to say:

  "Please tell the maid not to come up. I shall not require her. I canmanage by myself."

  Madame de Vibray went towards the little writing-table, which stood inone corner of her room; in leisurely fashion she sat down and proceededto open her letters with a wearied air.

  "Why, it's from that nice Jacques Dollon!" she exclaimed, as she readthe first letter she opened: "I was thinking of him at this veryminute!" ... "Yes," she went on, as she read, "I shall certainly pay hima visit soon!"

  Madame de Vibray put Jacques Dollon's letter in her handbag, recognisingon the back of the second letter the initials B. N., which she knew tobe the discreet superscription on the business paper of her bankers,Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil. It was long and closely written, in a fine,regular hand. When she began to read it her attention was wandering, forher mind was full of Sonia Danidoff and Thomery, and what she hadascertained regarding their relation to each other; but little by littleshe became absorbed in what she was reading, till her whole attentionwas taken captive. As she read on, however, her eyes opened more andmore widely, there was a look of keenest anguish in them, her featurescontracted as if in pain, her bosom heaved, her fingers were tremblingunder the stress of some intense emotion:

  "Oh, my God! Ah! My God!" she gasped out several times in a half-chokedvoice.

  * * * * *

  Silence had reigned for a long while in the smart town house of theBaroness de Vibray in the Avenue Henri-Martin....

  From without came no sound; the avenue was quiet, deserted; the nightwas dark. But when three o'clock struck, the bedroom of Madame de Vibraywas still flooded with light. She had not left her writing-table sinceshe had read the letter of her bankers, Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil. Shewrote on, and on, without intermission.