RE'M 
 
 ELINOR 
 


:': A :'': ; 
 
 AMBROSINE EUSTASIE, MARQUISE DE CALINCOURT 
 
 Guillotined \ 793 
 
The Reflections of 
 Ambrosine & & & 
 
 Bobel 
 
 by 
 
 Elinor Glyn 
 a 
 
 New York and London 
 
 Harper & Brothers 
 
 Publishers igo2 
 
Copyright, 1902, by ELINOR GLYM. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 Published November, 1902. 
 
NOTE 
 
 IN thanking the readers who were kind enough to 
 appreciate my "Visits of Elizabeth," I take this oppor- 
 tunity of saying that I did not write the two other books 
 which appeared anonymously. The titles of those works 
 were so worded that they gave the public the impression 
 that I was their author. I have never written any book 
 but the "Visits of Elizabeth." Everything that I write 
 
 will be signed with my name, 
 
 ELINOR GLYN 
 
 912846. 
 
BOOK I 
 
THE 
 REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I HAVE wondered sometimes if there are not 
 perhaps some disadvantages in having really 
 blue blood in one's veins, like grandmamma 
 and me. For instance, if we were ordinary, com- 
 mon people our teeth would chatter naturally 
 with cold when we have to go to bed without 
 fires in our rooms in December; but we pretend 
 we like sleeping in " well-aired rooms " at least 
 I have to. Grandmamma simply says we ate 
 obliged to make these small economies, and to 
 grumble would be to lose a trick to fate. 
 
 "Rebel if you can improve matters/' she 
 often tells me, " but otherwise accept them with 
 calmness." 
 
 We have had to accept a good many things 
 with calmness since papa made that tiresome 
 speculation in South America. Before that we 
 had a nice apartment in Paris and as many 
 fires as we wished. However, in spite of the 
 
 3 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 comfort, grandmamma hated papa's "making" 
 money. It wa:* not the career of a gentleman, 
 she said, and when the smash came and one 
 heard no more of papa, I have an idea she was 
 almost relieved. 
 
 We came first over to England, and, after long 
 wanderings backward and forward, took this 
 little furnished place at the corner of Ledstone 
 Park. It is just a cottage once a keeper's, I 
 believe and we have only Hephzibah and a 
 wretched servant-girl to wait on us. Hephzibah 
 was my nurse in America before we ever went 
 to Paris, and she is as ugly as a card-board face 
 on Guy Fawkes day, and as good as gold. 
 
 Grandmamma has had a worrying life. She 
 was brought up at the court of Charles X. can 
 one believe it, all those years ago! her family 
 up to that having lived in Ireland since the great 
 Revolution. Indeed, her mother was Irish, and 
 I think grandmamma still speaks French with 
 an accent. (I hope she will never know I said 
 that.) Her name was Mademoiselle de Calin- 
 court, the daughter of the Marquis de Calm- 
 court, whose family had owned Calincourt since 
 the time of Charlemagne or something before 
 that. So it was annoying for them to have had 
 their heads chopped off and to be obliged to 
 live in Dublin on nothing a year. The grand- 
 mother of grandmamma, Ambrosine Eustasie 
 de Calincourt, after whom I am called, was a 
 famous character. She was so good-looking that 
 
 4 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Robespierre offered to let her retain her head 
 if she would give him a kiss, but she preferred 
 to drive to the guillotine in the cart with her 
 friends, only she took a rose to keep off the smell 
 of the common people, and, they say, ran up the 
 steps smiling. Grandmamma has her minia- 
 ture, and it is, she says, exactly like me. 
 
 I have heard that grandmamma's marriage 
 with grandpapa an Englishman was consid- 
 ered at the time to be a very suitable affair. 
 He had also ancestors since before Edward the 
 Confessor. However, unfortunately, a few years 
 after their marriage (grandmamma was really 
 un pen passte when that took place) grandpapa 
 made a betise something political or diplomatic, 
 but I have never heard exactly what; anyway, 
 it obliged them to leave hurriedly and go to 
 America. Grandmamma never speaks of her 
 life there or of grandpapa, so I suppose he died, 
 because when I first remember things we were 
 crossing to France in a big ship just papa, 
 grandmamma, and I. My mother died when I 
 was born. She was an American of one of the 
 first original families in Virginia; that is all 
 I know of her. We have never had a great 
 many friends even when we lived in Paris 
 because, you see, as a rule people don't live so 
 long as grandmamma, and the other maids of 
 honor of the court of Charles X. were all buried 
 years ago. Grandmamma was eighty-eight last 
 July! No one would think it to look at her. 
 
 5 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 She is not deaf or blind or any of those annoying 
 things, and she sits bolt -upright in her chair, 
 and her face is not very wrinkled more like 
 fine, old, white kid. Her hair is arranged with 
 such a chic; it is white, but she always has it a 
 little powdered as well, and she wears such be- 
 coming caps, rather like the pictures of Madame 
 du Deffand. They are always of real lace I 
 know, for I have to mend them. Some of her 
 dresses are a trifle shabby, but they look splendid 
 when she puts them on, and her eyes are the 
 eyes of a hawk, the proudest eyes I have ever 
 seen. Her third and little fingers are bent with 
 rheumatism, but she still polishes her nails and 
 covers the rest of her hands with mittens. You 
 can't exactly love grandmamma, but you feel 
 you respect her dreadfully, and it is a great 
 honor when she is pleased. 
 
 I was twelve when we left Paris, and I am 
 nineteen now. We have lived on and off in 
 England ever since, part of the time in London 
 that was dull! All those streets and faces, and 
 no one to speak to, and the mud and the fogs! 
 
 During those years we have only twice had 
 glimpses of papa the shortest visits, with long 
 talks alone with grandmamma and generally 
 leaving by the early train. 
 
 He seems to me to be rather American, papa, 
 and very coarse to be the son of grandmamma ; 
 but I must say I have always had a sneaking 
 affection for him. He never takes much notice 
 
 6 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 of me a pat on the head when I was a child, 
 and since an awkward kiss, as if he was afraid 
 of breaking a bit of china. I feel somehow that 
 he does not share all of grandmamma's views; 
 he seems, in fact, like a person belonging to quite 
 another world than ours. If it was not that he 
 has the same nose and chin as grandmamma, 
 one would say she had bought him somewhere, 
 and that he could not be her own son. 
 
 Hephzibah says he is good-natured, so per- 
 haps that is why he made a betise in South Amer- 
 ica. One ought never to be called good-natured, 
 grandmamma says as well write one's self 
 down a noodle at once. While we were in Paris 
 we hardly ever saw papa either; he was always 
 out West in America, or at Rio, or other odd 
 places. All we knew of him was, there was plen- 
 ty of money to grandmamma's account in the 
 bank. 
 
 Grandmamma has given me most of my educa- 
 tion herself since we came to England, and she 
 has been especially particular about deportment. 
 I have never been allowed to lean back in my 
 chair or loll on a sofa, and she has taught me 
 how to go in and out of a room and how to en- 
 ter a carriage. We had not a carriage, so we 
 had to arrange with footstools for the steps and 
 a chair on top of a box for the seat. That used 
 to make me laugh! but I had to do it into 
 myself. As for walking, I can carry any sized 
 bundle on my head, and grandmamma says 
 
 7 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 she has nothing further to teach me in that 
 respect, and that I have mastered the fact that 
 a gentlewoman should give the impression that 
 the ground is hardly good enough to tread on. 
 She has also made me go through all kinds of 
 exercises to insure suppleness, and to move from 
 the hips. And the day she told me she was 
 pleased I shall never forget. 
 
 There are three things, she says, a woman 
 ought to look straight as a dart, supple as a 
 snake, and proud as a tiger-lily. 
 
 Besides deportment, I seem to have learned a 
 lot of stuff that I am sure no English girls have 
 to bother about, and I probably am unacquaint- 
 ed with half the useful, interesting things they 
 know. 
 
 We brought with us a beautifully bound set 
 of French classics, and we read Voltaire one 
 day, and La Bruyere the next, and Pascal, and 
 Fontenelle, and Moliere, and Fnelon, and the 
 sermons of Bossuet, and since I have been seven- 
 teen the Maximes of La Rochefoucauld. Grand- 
 mamma dislikes Jean Jacques ; she says he help- 
 ed the Revolution, and she is all for the ancien 
 regime. But in all these books she makes me 
 skip what I am sure are the nice parts, and there 
 are whole volumes of Voltaire that I may not 
 even look into. For herself grandmamma has 
 numbers of modern books and papers. She 
 says she must understand the times. Besides 
 all these things I have had English governesses 
 
 8 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 who have done what they could to drum a smat- 
 tering of everything into my head, but we never 
 were able to afford very good ones after we left 
 Paris. 
 
 There is one thing I can do better than the 
 English girls I am English myself, of course, 
 on account of grandpapa only I mean the 
 ones who have lived here always and that is, 
 embroider fine cambric. I do all our under- 
 linen, and it is quite as nice as that in the shops 
 in the Rue de la Paix. Grandmamma says 
 a lady, however poor, should wear fine linen, 
 even if she has only one new dress a year she 
 calls the stuff worn by people here "sail-cloth"! 
 So I stitch and stitch, summer and winter. 
 
 I do wonder and wonder at things sometimes : 
 what it would be like to be rich, for instance, and 
 to have brothers and sisters and friends; and 
 what it would be like to have a lover h Van- 
 glaise. Grandmamma would think that dread- 
 fully improper until after one was married, but 
 I believe it would be rather nice, and perhaps 
 one could marry him, too. However, there is 
 not much chance of my getting one, or a husband 
 either, as I have no dot. 
 
 We have an old friend, the Marquis de Rocher- 
 mont, who pays us periodical visits. I believe 
 long ago he was grandmamma's lover. They 
 have such beautiful manners together, and their 
 conversation is so interesting, one can fancy 
 one's self back in that dainty world of the engrav- 
 
 9 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 ings of Moreau le Jeune and Freudenberg which 
 we have. They are as gay and witty as if they 
 were both young and his feet were not lumpy 
 with gout and her hands crooked with rheuma- 
 tism. They discuss morals and religion, and, 
 above all, philosophy, and I have learned a great 
 deal by listening. And for morals, it seems one 
 may do what one pleases as long as one behaves 
 like a lady. And for religion, the first thing 
 is to conform to the country one lives in and 
 to conduct one's self with decency. As for 
 Philosophy (I put a great big "P" to that, for 
 it appears to be the chief) Philosophy seems to 
 settle everything in life, and enables one to take 
 the ups and downs of fate, the good and the bad, 
 with a smiling face. I mean to study it always, 
 but I dare say it will be easier when I am older. 
 On the days when Monsieur de Rochermont 
 comes grandmamma wears the lavender silk for 
 dinner and the best Alengon cap, and Heph- 
 zibah stays so long dressing her that I often 
 have to help the servant to lay the table for din- 
 ner. The Marquis never arrives until the after- 
 noon, and leaves within a couple of days. He 
 brings an old valet called Theodore, and they 
 have bandboxes and small valises, and I believe 
 only I must not say it aloud that the band- 
 boxes contain his wigs. The one for dinner is 
 curled and scented, and the travelling one is 
 much more ordinary. I am sent to bed early on 
 those evenings. 
 
 10 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Each time the Marquis brings a present of 
 game or fine fruit for grandmamma and a box 
 of bonbons for me. I don't like sweets much, 
 but the boxes are charming. These visits hap- 
 pen twice a year, in June and December, wher- 
 ever we happen to be. 
 
 The only young men in this part of the world 
 are the curate and two hobbledehoys, the sons 
 of a person who lives in the place beyond Led- 
 stone, and they are common and uninteresting 
 and parvenu. All these people came to call as 
 soon as we arrived, and parsons and old maids 
 by the dozen, but grandmamma's exquisite po- 
 liteness upsets them. I suppose they feel that 
 she considers they are not made of the same 
 flesh and blood as she is, so we never get inti- 
 mate with anybody whatever places we are in. 
 
 Hephzibah has a lover. You can get one in 
 that class no matter how ugly you are, it seems, 
 and he is generally years and years younger than 
 you are. Hephzibah' s is the man who comes 
 round with the grocer's cart for orders, and he 
 is young enough to be her son. I have seen 
 them talking when I have been getting the irons 
 hot to iron grandmamma's best lace. Heph- 
 zibah's face, which is a grayish yellow gen- 
 erally, gets a pale beet-root up to her ears, and 
 she looks so coy. But I dare say it feels lovely 
 to her to stand there at the back door and know 
 some one is interested in what she does and 
 says. 
 
 II 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSJNE 
 
 Ledstone Park is owned by some people of 
 the name of Gurrage does not it sound a fat 
 word! They are a mother and son, but they 
 have been at Bournemouth ever since we came, 
 six months ago. It is a frightful place, and al- 
 though it is miles in the country it looks like 
 a suburban villa; the outside is all stucco, and 
 nasty, common - looking pots and bad statues 
 ornament the drive. They pulled down the 
 smaller original Jacobean house that was there 
 when they bought the place, we have heard. 
 They are corning home soon, so perhaps we 
 shall see them, but I can't think Gurrage could 
 be the name of really nice people. The parson 
 of the church came to call at once, but grand- 
 mamma nearly made him spoil his hat, he fidg- 
 eted with it so, and he hardly dared to ask for 
 more than one subscription she is so beautiful- 
 ly polite, and she often is laughing in her sleeve. 
 She says so few people can see the comic side of 
 things and that it is a great gift and chases away 
 foolish migraines. I think she has a grand 
 scheme in her head for me, and that is what we 
 are saving up every penny for. 
 
 Grandpapa's people lived in the next county 
 to this, in a place called Dane Mount. He was 
 a younger son and in the diplomatic service be- 
 fore he made his bftise, but if he was alive now 
 he would be over a hundred years old, so during 
 that time the family has naturally branched off 
 a good deal, and we can't be said to be very near- 
 
 12 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 ly related to them. The place was not entailed, 
 and went with the female line into the Thorn- 
 hirst family, who live there now. They are 
 rather new baronets, created by George II. How- 
 ever, I believe grandmamma's scheme is for us 
 to become acquainted with them, and for me to 
 marry whichever of them is the right age. The 
 present baronet's name is Sir Antony; it is a 
 pretty name, I think. How this is to come about 
 I do not know, and of course I dare not question 
 grandmamma. 
 
 How I wish it was summer again! I hate 
 these damp, cold days, and the east winds, and 
 the darkness. I wish I might stay in bed until 
 eleven, as grandmamma does. We have our 
 chocolate at seven, which Hephzibah brings up, 
 and then when I am dressed I practise for an 
 hour ; after that there are the finishing touches to 
 be put to our sitting-room, and the best Sevres 
 and the miniatures to be dusted. Grandmamma 
 would not trust any one to do it but me, but 
 by ten I can get out for a walk. 
 
 It used to be dreadfully tiresome until we 
 came here, because I was never allowed to go 
 out without Hephzibah, and she was so busy 
 we never got a chance in the morning, but since 
 we came here I have had such a pleasure. A 
 dear, clever collie for a friend we got him from 
 the lost dogs' home, and no one can know the 
 joy he is to me. Grandmamma considers him 
 a kind of chaperon, and I am allowed to go 
 
 13 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 alone for quite long walks now, and when we 
 are out of sight and no one is looking we run, 
 and it is such fun. Yesterday there was an 
 excitement the hunt passed! It is the first time 
 I have seen one close. That must be delightful 
 to rush along on horseback! I could feel my 
 heart beating just looking at them, and my 
 dear Roy barked all the time, and if I had not 
 held his collar I am sure he would have joined 
 the other dogs to go and catch the fox. Some 
 of the men in their red coats looked so hand- 
 some, and there was one all covered with mud; 
 he must have had a tumble. His stirrup-leather 
 gave way just as he got up to the mound where 
 Roy and I were standing, and he was obliged 
 to get off his horse and settle it. I am sure 
 by his face he was swearing to himself at being 
 delayed. His fall had evidently broken some 
 strap and he was fumbling in his pocket for 
 a knife to mend it. 
 
 I always wear a little gold chatelaine that 
 belonged to Ambrosine Eustasie de Calincourt 
 and is marked with her coronet and initials; 
 it has a tiny knife among the other things hang- 
 ing from it. The muddy hunter could not find 
 one; he searched in every pocket. At last he 
 turned to me and said: "Do you happen to 
 have a knife by chance?" and then when he saw 
 I was a girl he took off his hat. It was gray 
 with clay, and so was half of his face, and it look- 
 ed so comic I could not help smiling as I caught 
 
 14 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 his one eye; the other was rather swollen. The 
 one that was visible was a grayish-greeny-blue 
 eye with a black edge. I quickly gave him 
 my knife and he laughed as he took it. "Yes, 
 I do look a guy, don't I?" he said, and we both 
 laughed again. Even through the mud one 
 could see he was a gentleman. He fixed his 
 stirrup so quickly and neatly, but it broke the 
 blade of my little gold knife. 
 
 He apologized profusely, and said he must 
 have it mended, and where should he send it? 
 but at that moment there was the sound of the 
 hunt coming across a field near again. He had 
 no time for more manners, but jumped on his 
 horse and was off in a few seconds and alas! 
 my knife went with him! And just as I was 
 turning to go home I picked up the broken blade, 
 which was lying in the road. I hope grand- 
 mamma won't notice it and ask about it. As 
 I said before, there are disadvantages in being 
 well born one cannot tell lies like servants. 
 
n 
 
 THE Gurrage family have arrived. We saw 
 carts and a carriage going to meet them at the 
 station. Their liveries are prune and scarlet, 
 and look so inharmonious, and they seem to 
 have crests and coats of arms on every possible 
 thing. Young Mr. Gurrage is our landlord 
 but I think I said that before. 
 
 On Sunday in church the party entered the 
 Ledstone family pew. An oldish woman with 
 a huddled figure how unlike grandmamma! 
 looking about the class of a housekeeper; a 
 girl of my age, with red hair and white eye- 
 lashes and a buff hat on; and a young man, 
 dark, thick, common-looking. He seemed kind 
 to his mother, though, and arranged a cushion 
 for her. Their pew is at right angles to the 
 one I sit in, so I have a full view of them all the 
 time. He has box -pleated teeth which seem 
 quite unnecessary when dentists are so good 
 now. No one would have missed at least four 
 of them if they had been pulled out when he 
 was a boy. His eyes are wishy-washy in spite 
 of being brown, and he looks as if he did not 
 have enough sleep. They were all three self- 
 
 16 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 conscious and conscious of other people. Grand- 
 mamma says in a public place, unless the exi- 
 gencies of politeness require one to come into 
 personal contact with people, one ought never 
 to be aware that there is anything but tables 
 and chairs about. I have not once in my life 
 seen her even glance around, and yet nothing 
 escapes her hawk eye. Coming out they passed 
 me on the path to the church gate, and Mrs. 
 Gurrage stopped, and said: 
 
 " Good - mornin', me dear; you must be our 
 new tenant at the cottage/' 
 
 Her voice is the voice of quite a common per- 
 son and has the broad accent of some county 
 I don't know which. 
 
 I was so astonished at being called " me dear" 
 by a stranger that for half a second I almost 
 forgot grandmamma's maxim of "let nothing 
 in life put you out of countenance." However, 
 I did manage to say : % 
 
 "Yes, I am Miss Athelstan." 
 
 Then the young man said, "I hope you find 
 everything to your liking there, and that my 
 agent has made things comfortable." 
 
 " We are quite pleased with the cottage," I said. 
 
 "Well, don't stand on ceremony," the old 
 woman continued. "Come up and see us at The 
 Hall whenever you like, me dear, and I'll be 
 round callin' on your grandma one of these 
 days soon, but don't let that stop her if she likes 
 to look in at me first." 
 
 17 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I thought of grandmamma " looking in" on 
 this person, and I could have laughed aloud; 
 however, I managed to say, politely, that my 
 grandmother was an aged lady and somewhat 
 rheumatic, and as we had not a carriage I hoped 
 Mrs. Gurrage would excuse her paying her re- 
 spects in person. 
 
 "Rheumatic, is she? Well, I have the very 
 thing for the j'ints. My still-room maid makes 
 it under my own directions. I'll bring some 
 when I call. Good-day to you, me dear/' and 
 they bustled on into the arms of the parson's 
 family and other people who were waiting to 
 give them a gushing welcome at the gate. 
 
 Grandmamma laughed so when I told her 
 about them! 
 
 Two days afterwards Mrs. Gurrage and Miss 
 Hoad (the red-haired girl is the niece) came to 
 call. 
 
 Grandmamma was seated as usual in the 
 old Louis XV. berg&re, which is one of our house- 
 hold gods. It does not go with the other furni- 
 ture in the room, which is a "drawing-room 
 suite" of black and gold, upholstered with ma- 
 genta, but we have covered that up as well as 
 we can with pieces of old brocade from grand- 
 mamma's stored treasures. 
 
 After the first greetings were over and Mrs. 
 Gurrage had seated herself in the other arm- 
 chair, her knees pointing north and south, she 
 began about the rheumatism stuff for the " j'ints." 
 
 18 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I can see by yer hands ye're a great suf- 
 ferer/' she said. 
 
 "Alas! madam, one of the penalties of old 
 age/' grandmamma replied, in her fine, thin voice. 
 
 Then Mrs. Gurrage explained just how the 
 mixture was to be rubbed in, and all about it. 
 During this I had been trying to talk to Miss 
 Hoad, but she was so ill at ease and so taken 
 up with looking round the room that we soon 
 lapsed into silence. Presently I heard Mrs. 
 Gurrage say she also had been busy examin- 
 ing the room: 
 
 "Well, you have been good tenants, coverin' 
 up the suite, but you've no call to do it. You 
 wouldn't be likely to soil it much, and I always 
 say when you let a house furnished, you can't 
 expect it to continue without wear and tear; 
 so don't, please, bother to cover it with those old 
 things. Lor' bless me, it takes me back to 
 see it! It was my first suite after I married 
 Mr. Gurrage, and we had a pretty place on Bal- 
 ham Hill. We put it here because Augustus 
 did not want anything the least shabby up at 
 The Hall, and I take it kind of you to have cared 
 for it so." 
 
 Grandmamma's face never changed; not the 
 least twinkle came into her eye she is won- 
 derful. I could hardly keep from gurgling with 
 laughter and was obliged to make quite an 
 irritating rattle with the teaspoons. Grand' 
 mamma frowned at that. 
 
 19 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 By the end of the visit we had been invited 
 to view all the glories of The Hall. (The place 
 is called Ledstone Park; The Hall, apparently, 
 is Mrs. Gurrage's pet name for the house itself.) 
 We would not find anything old or shabby there, 
 she assured us. 
 
 When they had gone grandmamma said to 
 me, in a voice that always causes my knees to 
 shake, "Why did you not make a reverence to 
 Mrs. Gurrage, may I ask?" 
 
 "Oh, grandmamma/' I said, "courtesy to 
 that person! She would not have understood 
 in the least, and would only have thought it 
 was the village 'bob' to a superior." 
 
 "My child," grandmamma's voice can be 
 terrible in its fine distinctness "my teaching 
 has been of little avail if you have not under- 
 stood the point, that one has not good manners 
 for the effect they produce but for what is due 
 to one's self. This person who, I admit, should 
 have entered by the back door and stayed in 
 the kitchen with Hephzibah happened to be 
 our guest and is a woman of years and yet, 
 because she displeased your senses you failed 
 to remember that you yourself are a gentle- 
 woman. What she thought or thinks is of not 
 the smallest importance in the world, but let me 
 ask you in future to remember, at least, that you 
 are my granddaughter." 
 
 A big lump came in my throat. 
 
 I hate the Gurrages! 
 20 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The next day one of the old maids a Miss 
 Burton arrived just as we were having tea. 
 She was full of excitement at the return of the 
 owners of Ledstone, and gave us a quantity 
 of information about them in spite of grand- 
 mamma's aloofness from all gossip. It appears, 
 even in the country in England, Mrs. Gurrage 
 is considered quite an oddity, but every one 
 knows and accepts her, because she is so chari- 
 table and gives hundreds to any scheme the 
 great ladies start. 
 
 She was the daughter of a small publican 
 in one of the southern counties, Miss Burton 
 said, and married Mr. Gurrage, then a commer- 
 cial traveller in carpets. (How does one travel 
 in carpets?) Anyway, whatever that is, he rose 
 and became a partner, and finally amassed a 
 huge fortune, and when they were both quite 
 old they got "Augustus." He was "a puny, 
 delicate boy," to quote Miss Burton again, and 
 was not sent to school only to Cambridge later 
 on. Perhaps that is what gives him that look 
 of his things fitting wrong, and his skin being 
 puffy and flabby, as if he had never been knock- 
 ed about by other boys. My friend of the knife, 
 even with his coating of mud, looked quite dif- 
 ferent. 
 
 Oh! I wonder if I shall ever know any peo- 
 ple of one's own sort that one has not to be 
 polite to against the grain because one hap- 
 pens to be one's self a lady. Perhaps there are 
 
 21 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 numbers of nice people in this neighborhood, 
 but they naturally don't trouble about us in 
 our tiny cottage, and so we see practically no- 
 body. 
 
 Just as Miss Burton was leaving Mr. Gurrage 
 rode up. He tried to open the gate with the 
 end of his whip, but he could not, and would 
 have had to dismount only Miss Burton rushed 
 forward to open it for him. Then he got down 
 and held the bridle over his arm and walked up 
 the little path. 
 
 "Send some one to hold my horse," he said 
 to Hephzibah, who answered his ring at the 
 door. I could hear, as the window was a little 
 open and he has a loud voice. 
 
 "There is no one to send, sir/' said Hephzi- 
 bah, who, I am sure, felt annoyed. Two laborers 
 happened to be passing in the road, and he got 
 one of them to hold his horse, and so came in 
 at last. He is unattractive when you see him 
 in a room; he seemed blustering and yet ill at 
 ease. But he did not thank us for keeping 
 the suite clean! He was awfully friendly, and 
 asked us to make use of his garden, and, in 
 fact, anything we wanted. I hardly spoke at 
 all. 
 
 "You have made a snug little crib of it," he 
 said, in such a patronizing voice how I dislike 
 sentences like that; I don't know whether or 
 no they are slang (grandmamma says I use 
 slang myself sometimes!), but "a snug little 
 
 22 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 crib " does not please me. He took off his glove 
 when I gave him some tea, and he has thick, 
 common hands, and he fidgeted and bounced 
 up if I moved to take grandmamma her cup, 
 and said each time, " Allow me," and that is 
 another sentence I do not like. In fact, I think 
 he is a horrid young man, and I wish he was 
 not our landlord. He actually squeezed my 
 hand when he said good-bye. I had no intention 
 of doing more than to make a bow, but he thrust 
 his hand out so that I could not help it. 
 
 '' You'll find your way up to Ledstone, any- 
 way, won't you?" he said, with a sort of affec- 
 tionate look. 
 
 Grandmamma found him insupportable, she 
 told me when he was gone. She even preferred 
 the mother. 
 
 The following week I was sent up to The 
 Hall with Roy and grandmamma's card to re- 
 turn the visit. They were at home, unfortu- 
 nately, and I had to leave my dear companion 
 lying on the steps to wait for me. Such a fear- 
 ful house! An enormous stained-glass window 
 in the hall, the shape of a church window, only 
 not with saints and angels in it; more like the 
 pattern of a kaleidoscope that one peeps into 
 with one eye, and then bunches of roses and 
 silly daisies in some of the panes, which, I am 
 sure, are unsuitable to a stained-glass window. 
 There were ugly negro figures from Venice, 
 holding plates, in the passage, and stuffed bears 
 
 23 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 for lamps, and such a look of newness about 
 everything! I was taken along to Mrs. Gur- 
 rage's "bud war/' as she called it. That was 
 a room to remember! It had a "suite" in it 
 like the one at the cottage, only with Louis XV. 
 legs and Louis XVI. backs, and a general ex- 
 pression of distortion, and all of the newest gilt- 
 and-crimson satin brocade. And under a glass 
 case in the corner was the top of a wedding-cake 
 and a bunch of orange blossoms. 
 
 I was kept waiting about ten minutes, and 
 then Mrs. Gurrage bustled in, fastening her 
 cuff. I can't put down all she said, but it was 
 one continual praise of " Gussie " and his wealth 
 and the jewels he had given her, and how dis- 
 appointed he would be not to see me. Miss 
 Hoad poured out the tea and giggled twice. I 
 think she must be what Hephzibah calls " want- 
 ing." At last I got away. Roy barked with 
 pleasure as we started homeward. 
 
 We had not gone a hundred yards before we 
 met Mr. Gurrage coming up the drive. He 
 insisted upon turning back and walking with 
 me. He said it was "beastly hard luck" he 
 has horrid phrases his being out when I came, 
 and would I please not to walk so fast, as we 
 should so soon arrive at the cottage, and he 
 wanted to talk to me. I simply pranced on 
 after that. I do not know why people should 
 want to talk to one when one does not want to 
 talk to them. I was not agreeable, but he did 
 
 24 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 all the speaking. He told me he belonged to 
 the Yeomanry and they were "jolly fellows" 
 and were going to give a ball soon at Tilchester 
 the county town nearest here and that I 
 must let his mother take me to it. It was ' to 
 be a send-off to the detachment which had volun- 
 teered for South Africa. 
 
 A ball! Oh! I should like to go to a ball. 
 What could it feel like, I wonder, to have on a 
 white tulle dress and to dance all the evening. 
 Would grandmamma ever let me? Oh! it made 
 my heart beat. But suddenly a cold dash came 
 I could not go with a person like Mrs. Gurrage. 
 I would rather stay at home than that. When 
 we got to the gate I said good-bye and gave 
 him two fingers, but he was not the least daunt- 
 ed, and, seizing all my hand, said : 
 
 " Now, don't send me away ; I want to come in 
 and see your grandmother." 
 
 There was nothing left for me to do, and he 
 followed me into the house and into the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 Grandmamma was sitting as usual in her 
 chair. She does not have to fluster in, buttoning 
 her cuff, when people call. 
 
 "Mr. Gurrage wishes to see you, grand- 
 mamma," I said, as I kissed her hand, and then 
 I left them to take off my hat and I did not come 
 down again until I heard the front door shut. 
 
 "That is a terrible young man, Ambrosine/' 
 grandmamma said, when I did return to the 
 
 25 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 drawing-room. " How could you encourage him 
 to walk back with you?" 
 
 " Indeed, grandmamma, I did not wish him to 
 come; he did not even ask my leave; he just 
 walked beside me/' 
 
 "Well, well/' grandmamma said, and she 
 raised my face in her hands. I was sitting 
 on a low stool so as to get the last of the light 
 for my embroidery. She pushed the hair back 
 from my forehead I wear it brushed up like 
 Ambrosine Eustasie de Calincourt and she 
 looked and looked into my eyes. If possible 
 there was something pained and wistful in her 
 face. "My beautiful Ambrosine," she said, and 
 that was all. I felt I was blushing all over 
 my cheeks. "Beautiful Ambrosine." Then it 
 must be true if grandmamma said it. I had 
 often thought so perhaps myself, but I was 
 not sure if other people might think so too. 
 
 It is six weeks now since the Gurrages re- 
 turned, and constantly, oh! but constantly has 
 that young man come across my path. I think 
 I grow to dislike him more as time goes on. He 
 is so persistent and thick of ideas, and he always 
 does things in the wrong place. I feel afraid 
 to go for my walks, as he seems to be loitering 
 about. I sneak out of the back door and choose 
 the most secluded lanes, but it does not matter; 
 he somehow turns up. Certainly three times 
 a week do I have to put up with his company 
 
 26 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 in one way or another. It is a perfect insult to 
 think of such a person as an admirer, and I an- 
 nihilated Hephzibah, who had the impertinence 
 to suggest such a thing to me when she was 
 brushing my hair a few days ago. The ball 
 is coming off, but grandmamma has not seemed 
 very well lately. It is nothing much, just a 
 bluish look round her mouth, but I fear perhaps 
 she will not be fit to go. When the invitation 
 came brought down by Mrs. Gurrage in per- 
 son grandmamma said she never allowed me 
 to go out without herself, but she would be very 
 pleased to take me. I was perfectly thunder- 
 struck when I heard her say it. She grand- 
 mamma going out at night! It was so good 
 of her, and when I thanked her afterwards, 
 all she said was, "I seldom do things without 
 a reason, Ambrosine." 
 
 Oh, the delight in getting my dress! We 
 hired the fly from the Crown and Sceptre and 
 Hephzibah drove with me into Tilchester with 
 a list of things to get, written out by grand- 
 mamma these were only the small etceteras; 
 the dress itself is to come from Paris! I was 
 frightened almost at the dreadful expense, but 
 grandmamma would hear nothing from me. 
 "My granddaughter does not go to her first 
 ball arrayed like a provinciate/' she told me. 
 I do not know what it is to be, she did not con- 
 sult me, but I feel all jumping with excitement 
 when I think of it. Only four days more before 
 
 27 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 the ball, and the box from Paris is coming to- 
 morrow. 
 
 The Gurrages are to have a large party some 
 cousins and friends. I am sure they will not be 
 interesting. They asked us to dine and go on 
 with them, but grandmamma said that would be 
 too fatiguing for her, and we are going straight 
 from the cottage. I do not quite know what 
 has happened. A few days ago, after lunch, 
 grandmamma had a kind of fainting fit. It 
 frightened me terribly, and the under-servant 
 ran for the doctor. She had revived when he 
 came, and she sent me out of the room at once, 
 and saw him alone without even Hephzibah. 
 He stayed a very long time, and when he came 
 down he looked at me strangely and said: 
 
 "Your grandmother is all right now and you 
 can go to her. I think she wishes to send a 
 telegram, which I will take/' 
 
 He then asked to see Hephzibah, and I ran 
 quickly to grandmamma. She was sitting per- 
 fectly upright as usual, and, except for the slight 
 bluish look round her mouth, seemed quite 
 herself. She made me get her the foreign tele- 
 gram forms, and wrote a long telegram, think- 
 ing between the words, but never altering one. 
 She folded it and told me to get some money 
 from Hephzibah and take it to the doctor. Her 
 eyes looked prouder than ever, but her hand 
 shook a little. A vague feeling of fear came 
 over me which has never left me since. Even 
 
 28 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 when I am excited thinking of my dress, I seem 
 to feel some shadow in the background. 
 
 Yesterday grandmamma received a telegram 
 and told me we might expect the Marquis de 
 Rochermont by the usual train in the evening, 
 and at six he arrived. He greeted me with 
 even extra courtesy and made me compliment. 
 I cannot understand it all he has never before 
 come so early in the year (this is May). What 
 can it mean? Grandmamma sent me out of 
 the room directly, and we did not have dinner 
 until eight o'clock. I could hear their voices 
 from my room, and they seemed talking very 
 earnestly, and not so gayly as usual. 
 
 At dinner the Marquis, for the first time, ad- 
 dressed his conversation to me. He prefers to 
 speak in English to show what a linguist he 
 is, I suppose. He made me many compliments, 
 and said how very like I was growing to my 
 ancestress, Ambrosine Eustasie de Calincourt, 
 and he told me again the old story of the guillo- 
 tine. Grandmamma seemed watching me. 
 
 "Ambrosine is a true daughter of the race/' 
 she said. "I think I could promise you that 
 under the same circumstances she would behave 
 in the same manner." 
 
 How proud I felt! 
 
Ill 
 
 How changed all the world can become in one 
 short day ! Now I know why the Marquis came, 
 and what all the mystery was about. This 
 morning after breakfast grandmamma sent for 
 me into the drawing-room. The Marquis was 
 standing beside the fireplace, and they both 
 looked rather grave. 
 
 "Sit down, my child/' said grandmamma; 
 "we have something to say to you." 
 
 I sat down. 
 
 "I said you were a true daughter of the race 
 therefore I shall expect you to obey me with- 
 out flinching." 
 
 I felt a cold shiver down my back. What could 
 it be? 
 
 " You are aware that I had a fainting fit a short 
 time ago/' she continued. "I have long known 
 that my heart was affected, but I had hoped it 
 would have lasted long enough for me to fulfil 
 a scheme I had for a thoroughly suitable and 
 happy arrangement of your destiny. It was a 
 plan that would have taken time, and which 
 I had hoped to put in the way of gradual ac- 
 complishment at this ball. However, we must 
 
 30 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 not grumble at fate it is not to be. The doctor 
 tells me I cannot possibly live more than a few 
 weeks, therefore it follows that something must 
 be settled immediately to secure you a future. 
 You are not aware, as I have not considered 
 it necessary to inform you hitherto of my affairs, 
 that all we are living on is an annuity your 
 father bought for me, before the catastrophe 
 to his fortunes. That, you will understand, 
 ceases with my life. At my death you will 
 be absolutely penniless, a beggar in the street. 
 Even were you to sell these trifles" and she 
 pointed to the Sevres cups and the miniatures 
 "the few pounds they would bring might 
 keep you from starving for perhaps a month 
 or two after that well, enough that ques- 
 tion is impossible. I can obtain no news of 
 your father. I have heard nothing from or of 
 him for two years. He may be dead we can- 
 not count on him. In short, I have decided, 
 after due consideration and consultation with 
 my old friend the Marquis, that you must 
 marry Augustus Gurrage. It is my dying 
 wish." 
 
 My eyes fell from grandmamma's face and 
 happened to light on the picture of Ambrosine 
 Eustasie de Calincourt. There she was, with the 
 rose in her dress, smiling at me out of the old 
 paste frame. I was so stunned, all I could think 
 of was to wonder if it was the same rose she 
 walked up the guillotine steps with. I did not 
 
 31 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 hear grandmamma speaking ; for a minute there 
 was a buzzing in my ears. 
 
 Marry Augustus Gurrage! 
 
 " My child " grandmamma's voice was rather 
 sharper "I am aware that it is a mesalliance, 
 a stain, a finish to our fine race, and if I could 
 take you on the journey I am going I would not 
 suggest this alternative to you; but one must 
 have common-sense and be practical; and as 
 you are young and must live, and cannot beg, 
 this is the only certain and possible solution 
 of the matter. The great honor you will do 
 him by marrying him removes all sense of obli- 
 gation in receiving the riches he will bestow on 
 you you yourself being without a dot. Child 
 why don't you answer?" 
 
 I got up and walked to the window. She had 
 said I was a true daughter of the race. Would 
 it be of the race to kill myself? No there is 
 nothing so vulgar as to be dramatic. Grand- 
 mamma has never erred. She would not ask 
 this of me if there was any other way. 
 
 I came back and sat down. 
 
 "Very well, grandmamma/' I said. 
 
 The blue mark round her lips seemed to fade 
 a little and she smiled. 
 
 The Marquis came forward and kissed my 
 hand. 
 
 "Remember ch&re enfant," he said, "mar- 
 riage is a state required by society. It is not a 
 pleasure, but it can with creature comforts 
 
 32 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 become supportable, and it opens the door 
 to freedom et de tons les autres agrGments de la 
 vie pour une femme." 
 
 He kissed and patted my hand again. 
 
 "Start with hate, passionate love, indiffer- 
 ence, revolt, disgust what you will all hus- 
 bands at the end of a year inspire the same 
 feeling, one of complacent monotony that is, 
 if they are not altogether brutes and from the 
 description of madame, ce jeune Gurrage is at 
 least un brave gargon." 
 
 I am of a practical nature, and a thought 
 struck me forcibly. When could Mr. Gurrage 
 have made the demande? 
 
 "How did Mr. Gurrage ask for my hand?" I 
 ventured to question grandmamma. 
 
 She looked at the Marquis, and the Marquis 
 looked back at her, and polished his eye-glasses. 
 
 At last grandmamma spoke. 
 
 " That is not the custom here, Ambrosine, but 
 from what I have observed he will take the first 
 opportunity of asking you himself/' 
 
 Here was something unpleasant to look for- 
 ward to! It would be bad enough to have to 
 go through the usual period of formal fiangailles 
 of the sort I have always been brought up to 
 expect but to endure being made love to by 
 Augustus Gurrage! That was enough to daunt 
 the stoutest heart. However, having agreed to 
 obey grandmamma, I could not argue. I only 
 waited for directions. There was a pause, not 
 3 33 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 agreeable to any of us, and then grandmamma 
 spoke. 
 
 " You will go to this ball, my child. You will 
 look beautiful, and you will dance with this 
 young man. You will not be so stiff as you have 
 hitherto been, and during the evening he is sure 
 to propose to you. You will then accept him, 
 and bear his outburst of affection with what 
 good grace you can summon up. I will save 
 you from as much as I can, and I promise you 
 your engagement shall be short/' 
 
 A sudden feeling of dizziness came over me. 
 I have never been faint in my life, but all the 
 room swam, and I felt I must scream, "No, no! 
 I cannot do it!" Then my eyes fell again on 
 grandmamma. The blue mark had returned, 
 but she sat bolt upright. My nerves steadied. 
 I, too, would be calm and of my race. 
 
 " Go for a walk now, my child/' she said. " Take 
 your dog and run; it will be good for you/' 
 
 You may believe I courtesied quickly to them 
 and left the room without more ado. 
 
 When I got out-of-doors and the fresh May 
 air struck my face it seemed to revive me, and 
 I forgot my ugly future and could think 
 only of grandmamma poor grandmamma, go- 
 ing away out of the world, and the summer com- 
 ing, and the blue sky, and the flowers. Going 
 away to the great, vast beyond and perhaps 
 there she will meet Ambrosine Eustasie de Calin- 
 court, and all the other ancestors, and Jacques 
 
 34 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 de Calincourt, the famous friend of Bayard, 
 who died for his lady's glove; and she will tell 
 them that I also, the last of them, will try to re- 
 member their motto, " Sans bruit" and accept 
 my fate also "without noise." 
 
 When I got back, my ball-dress had arrived. 
 Hephzibah had unpacked it, and it was lying 
 on my bed such billows of pure white! and it 
 fitted! Well, it gave me pleasure, with all the 
 uglies looming in the future, just to try it on. 
 
 The Marquis stayed with us. He could not 
 desert his old friend, he said, in her frail health, 
 when she needed some one to cheer her. I sus- 
 pect the Marquis is as poor as we are, really, and 
 that is why grandmamma could not leave me 
 to him. I am glad he is staying, and now she 
 seems quite her old self again, and I cannot 
 believe she is going to die. However, whether 
 or no, my destiny is fixed, and I shall have to 
 marry Augustus Gurrage. 
 
 I did not let myself think of what was to hap- 
 pen at the ball. When one has made up one's 
 mind to go through something unpleasant, there 
 is no use suffering in advance by anticipation. 
 I said to myself, "I will put the whole affair out 
 of my head; there are yet two good days/' 
 
 Chance, however, arranged otherwise. This 
 morning, the morning of the ball, while I was 
 dusting the drawing-room, I went to the window, 
 which was wide open, to shake out my duster, 
 and there, loitering by the gate, was Mr. Gurrage 
 
 35 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 at nine o'clock! What could he be doing? He 
 jumped back as if he had seen me in my night- 
 gown. I suppose it was because of my apron, 
 and the big cambric cap I always wear to keep 
 the dust from getting into my hair. A flash 
 came to me why not get it over now? He would 
 probably not be so affectionate in broad day- 
 light as at the ball. So I called out, "Good- 
 morning!" 
 
 He came forward up the path and leaned on 
 the window-sill, still looking dreadfully un- 
 comfortable, hardly daring to glance at me. 
 Then he said, nervously, "What are you play- 
 ing with, dressed up like that?" 
 
 "I am not playing," I said. "I am dusting 
 the china, and I wear these things to keep me 
 clean." 
 
 He blushed! 
 
 Then I realized all this embarrassment was 
 because he thought I should feel uncomforta- 
 ble at being caught doing house-work! Not, as 
 one might have imagined, because he had been 
 caught peeping into our garden. Oh, the odd 
 ideas of the lower classes! 
 
 I took up a Sevres cup and began to pull the 
 silk duster gently through the handle. 
 
 "Er can I help you?" he said. 
 
 At that I burst out laughing. Those thick, 
 common hands touching grandmamma's best 
 china ! 
 
 "No, no!" I said. 
 
 36 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 He grew less self-conscious. 
 
 "By Jove! how pretty you are in that cap!" 
 
 "Am I?" 
 
 "Yes, and you are laughing, and not snub- 
 bing a fellow so dreadfully as you generally do/' 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "No well, I came round because I couldn't 
 sleep. I haven't been able to sleep for three 
 nights. I haven't seen you since Saturday, you 
 know." 
 
 "No, I did not know." 
 
 My heart began to beat in a sickening fashion. 
 He leaned close to me over the sill. I put down 
 the cup and took up the miniature. I thought 
 if I looked at Ambrosine Eustasie that would 
 give me courage. I went on dusting it, and I 
 was glad to see my hands did not shake. 
 
 "Yes, you are so devilishly tantalizing I 
 beg your pardon, but you don't chuck yourself 
 at a fellow's head like the other girls." 
 
 I felt I was "chucking myself at his head" 
 horrible phrase at that very moment, but 
 as speech is given us to conceal our thoughts, 
 I said, "No, indeed!" 
 
 "Ambrosine " (Oh, how his saying my 
 name jarred and made me creep!) "Er you 
 know I am jolly fond of you. If you'll marry 
 me you'll not have to dust any more beastly old 
 china, I promise you." 
 
 I have never had a tooth out fortunately, 
 mine are all very white and sound but I have 
 
 37 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 always heard the agony goes on growing until 
 the final wrench, and then all is over. I feel 
 I know now what the sensation is. I could have 
 screamed, but when he finished speaking I felt 
 numb. I was incapable of answering. 
 
 " I've generally been able to buy all I've want- 
 ed," he went on, "but I never wanted a wife 
 before." He laughed nervously. That was a 
 straw for me. 
 
 " Do you want to buy me?" I said. " Because, 
 if it is only a question of that, it perhaps could 
 be managed." 
 
 "Oh, I say I never meant that!" he blustered. 
 " Oh, you know I love you like anything, and I 
 want you to love me." 
 
 "That is just it," I said, quite low. 
 
 I felt too mean. I could not pretend I loved him. 
 I must tell him the truth, and then, if he would 
 not have me me Ambrosine de Calincourt 
 Athelstan ! why, then, vulgarly dramatic or no, 
 I should have to jump into the river to make 
 things easy for grandmamma. 
 
 "What is 'just it'?" he asked. 
 
 "I do not love you." 
 
 His face fell. 
 
 " I kind of thought you didn't," he faltered, the 
 bluster gone; "but" cheering up "of course 
 you will in time, if you will only marry me." 
 
 "I don't think I ever shall," I managed to 
 whisper; "but if you like to marry me on that 
 clear understanding, you may." 
 
 38 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 He climbed through the window and put his 
 arms round me. 
 
 "Darling!" he said, and kissed me deliber- 
 ately. 
 
 Oh, the horror of it! I shut my eyes, and in 
 the emotion of the moment I bent the bow on the 
 top of the frame of Ambrosine Eustasie. 
 
 Then, dragging myself from his embrace and 
 stuttering with rage, "How dare you!" I gasped. 
 "How dare you!" 
 
 He looked sulky and offended. 
 
 "You said you would marry me what is a 
 fellow to understand?" 
 
 "You are to understand that I will not be 
 mauled and and kissed like like Hephzibah 
 at the back door," I said, with freezing dignity, 
 my head in the air. 
 
 "Hoity-toity!" (hideous expression!) "What 
 airs you give yourself ! But you look so deuced 
 pretty when you are angry!" I did not melt, 
 but stood on the defensive. 
 
 He became supplicating again. 
 
 "Ambrosine, I love you don't be cross with 
 me. I won't make you angry again until you 
 are used to me. Ambrosine, say you forgive 
 me." He took my hand. His hands are horrid 
 to touch coarse and damp. I shuddered in- 
 voluntarily. 
 
 He looked pained at that. A dark-red flush 
 came over all his face. He squared his shoulders 
 and got over the window-sill again. 
 
 39 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "You cold statue!" he said, spitefully. "I 
 will leave you/' 
 
 "Go/' was all I said, and I did not move an 
 inch. 
 
 He stood looking at me for a few moments, 
 then with one bound he was in the room again 
 and had seized me in his arms. 
 
 "No, I sha'n't!" he exclaimed. "You have 
 promised, and I don't care what you say or do. 
 I will keep you to your word/' 
 
 Mercifully, at that moment Hephzibah opened 
 the door, and in the confusion her entrance caused 
 him, he let me go. I simply flew from the room 
 and up to my own; and there, I am ashamed to 
 say, I cried sat on the floor and cried like a 
 gutter-child. Oh, if grandmamma could have 
 seen me, how angry she would have been! I 
 have never been allowed to cry a relaxation for 
 the lower classes, she has always told me. 
 
 My face burned. All the bottles of Lubin in 
 grandmamma's cupboard would not wash off 
 the stain of that kiss, I felt. ' I scrubbed my face 
 until it was crimson, and then I heard grand- 
 mamma's voice and had to pull myself to- 
 gether. 
 
 I have always said she had hawk's eyes ; they 
 see everything, even with the blinds down in 
 her room. When I went in she noticed my red 
 lids and asked the cause of them. 
 
 "Mr. Gurrage has been here and has asked 
 me to marry him, grandmamma/' I said. 
 
 40 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "At this hour in the morning! What does 
 the young man mean?" 
 
 " He saw me dusting the Sevres from the road 
 and came in." 
 
 Grandmamma kissed me a thing of the 
 greatest rareness. 
 
 "My child," she said, "try and remember to 
 accept fate without noise. Now go and rest un- 
 til breakfast, or you will not be pretty for your 
 ball to-night." 
 
 The Marquis's congratulations were different 
 when we met in the salle a manger ; he kissed my 
 hand. How cool and fine his old, withered fin- 
 gers felt! 
 
 "You will be the most beautiful debutante to- 
 night, ma chere enfant," he said; "and all the 
 felicitations are for Monsieur Gurrage. You are 
 a noble girl but such is life. My wife detested 
 me dans le temps. But what will you?" 
 
 "You, at least, were a gentleman, Marquis," 
 I said. 
 
 " There is that, to be sure," he allowed. " But 
 my wife preferred her dancing-master. One can 
 never judge. " 
 
 At half-past two o'clock (they must have gob- 
 bled their lunch), Mrs. Gurrage, Augustus yes, 
 I must get accustomed to saying that odious 
 name Augustus and Miss Hoad drove up in 
 the barouche, and got solemnly out and came 
 up to the door which Hephzibah held open for 
 them. They solemnly entered the sitting-room 
 
 4 1 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 where we all were, and solemnly shook hands. 
 There is something dreadfully ill-behaved about 
 me to-day. I could hardly prevent myself from 
 screaming with laughter. 
 
 "I've heard the joyous news/' Mrs. Gurrage 
 said, "and I've come to take you to me heart, 
 me dear." 
 
 Upon which I was folded fondly against a 
 mosaic brooch containing a lock of hair of the 
 late Mr. Gurrage. 
 
 It says a great deal for the unassailable dignity 
 of grandmamma that she did not share the same 
 fate. She, however, escaped with only numer- 
 ous hand-shakings. 
 
 "He is, indeed, to be congratulated, votre fits, 
 madame," the Marquis said, on being presented. 
 
 "And the young lady, too, me dear sir. A 
 better husband than me boy 11 make there is 
 not in England though his old mother says it." 
 
 Grandmamma behaved with the stiff est deco- 
 rum. She suggested that we the young girls 
 should walk in the garden, while she had some 
 conversation with Mrs. Gurrage and Augustus. 
 
 Miss Hoad and I left the room. Her name is 
 Amelia. She looked like a turkey's egg, just 
 that yellowish white with freckles. 
 
 "I hope you will be good to Gussie," she said, 
 as we walked demurely along the path. "He is 
 a dear fellow when you know him, though a bit 
 masterful." 
 
 I bowed. 
 
 42 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Gussie's awfully spoony on you/' she went 
 on. "I said to aunt weeks ago I knew what 
 was up/' she giggled. 
 
 I bowed again. 
 
 " I say, he'll give you a bouquet for the ball 
 to-night; we are going into Tilchester now to 
 fetch it." 
 
 I could not bow a third time, so I said: 
 
 " Is not a bouquet rather in the way of dancing? 
 I have never been to a ball yet." 
 
 "Never been to a ball? My! Well I've never 
 had a bouquet, so I can't say. If you have any 
 one sweet on you I suppose they send them, but 
 I have always been too busy with aunt to think 
 about that." 
 
 Poor Miss Hoad! 
 
 When they had gone I kept behind grand- 
 mamma's chair, and so only received a squeeze 
 of the hand from my betrothed grandmamma 
 told me she would be obliged to forego the pleasure 
 of herself taking me to the ball to-night, but the 
 Marquis would accompany me, and Mrs. Gurrage 
 would chaperon me there. So, after all, I am 
 going with Mrs. Gurrage! Grandmamma also 
 added that she had explained the circumstances 
 of her health to them, and that Augustus had 
 suggested that the wedding should take place 
 with the shortest delay possible. 
 
 "I have told them your want of dot," she said, 
 " and I must say for these bourgeois they seemed 
 to find that a matter of no importance. But they 
 
 43 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 do not in the least realize the honor you are 
 doing them. That must be for you as a private 
 consolation. I have stipulated, as my time is 
 limited, that I shall have you as much to myself 
 as possible during the month that must elapse 
 before you can collect a trousseau/' 
 
 For that mercy, how grateful I felt to grand- 
 mamma! 
 
IV 
 
 IT is difficult to judge of a thing when your 
 mind is prejudiced on any point. Balls may 
 be delightful, but my first ball contained hours 
 which I can only look back upon as a night- 
 mare. 
 
 The Marquis and I arrived not too early; 
 Mrs. Gurrage and her bevy of nieces and friends 
 were already in the dressing-room. They seem- 
 ed to be plainish, buxom girls, several of the 
 bony, pass$ description. They looked at me 
 with eyes of deep interest. My dress, as I said 
 before, was perfection. Mrs. Gurrage wore what 
 she told me were the "family jewels." Her 
 short neck and undulating chest were covered 
 with pearls, diamonds, sapphires, and rubies, 
 all jumbled together, necklace after necklace. 
 On top of her head, in front of an imitation lace 
 cap, a park paling of diamonds sat up trium- 
 phantly; one almost saw its reflection in her 
 shining forehead below. In spite of this splendor, 
 my future mother-in-law had an unimportant, 
 plebeian appearance, and as we walked down the 
 corridor I wished I was not so tall, that I might 
 hide behind her. 
 
 45 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Augustus was waiting among the other men 
 of their party, with an enormous bouquet. Not 
 one of those dainty posies with dropping sprays 
 one sees in the Paris shops, but a good lump of 
 flowers, arranged like a cauliflower, evidently 
 the work of the Tilchester florist. How I should 
 like to have thrown it at his head ! 
 
 He gave me his arm, and in this fashion we 
 entered the ballroom. A bride of the Saturday 
 weddings in the Bois de Boulogne could not 
 have looked more foolish than I felt. A valse 
 was being played; the room was full of light 
 and color, all the officers of the Yeomanry in 
 their pretty uniforms (Augustus puffed with 
 pride in his), and a general air of gayety and 
 animation that would have made my pulse 
 skip a month ago. We passed on to the other 
 end of the room in this ridiculous procession. 
 I am quite as tall as Augustus, and I felt I was 
 towering over him, my head was so high in the 
 air not with exaltation, but with a vague sense 
 of defiance. 
 
 There were several nice-looking people stand- 
 ing around when at last we arrived on the dais. 
 Mrs. Gurrage greeted most of them gushingly 
 and introduced me. 
 
 "My future daughter-in-law, Miss Athelstan." 
 
 It may have been fancy, but I thought I caught 
 flashes of surprise in their eyes. One lady 
 Lady Tilchester the great magnate in the 
 neighborhood, spoke to me. She had gracious, 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 beautiful manners, and although she could not 
 know anything about me or my history, there 
 seemed to be sympathy in her big, brown eyes. 
 
 "This is your first ball Mrs. Gurrage tells 
 me/' she said, kindly. "I hope you will enjoy 
 it. I must introduce some of my party to you. 
 Ah, they are dancing now; I must find them 
 presently." 
 
 During this Augustus fidgeted. He kept touch- 
 ing my arm, half in an outburst of affection 
 and half to keep my attention from wandering 
 from him. He blustered politenesses to Lady 
 Tilchester, who smiled vacantly while she was 
 attending to something else. Then my fianc$ 
 suggested that we should dance. I agreed; it 
 would be an opportunity to get rid of my cauli- 
 flower bouquet, which I flung viciously into a 
 chair, and off we started. 
 
 Augustus dances vilely. When he was not 
 bumping me against other valseurs he was 
 treading on my toes a jig or a funeral-march 
 might have been playing instead of a valse, 
 for all the time of it mattered to him. 
 
 "I never dance fast, I hate it," he said, in the 
 first pause; "don't you?" 
 
 "No! I like it at least, I mean, I like to do 
 whatever the music is doing," I answered, try- 
 ing to keep my voice from showing the anger 
 and disgust I felt. 
 
 . "Darling!" was all he muttered, as he seized 
 me round the waist again. 
 
 47 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Oh! it makes me giddy/' I said, which 
 was a lie I am ashamed of. "Let us stop/' 
 
 It was from Scylla to Charybdis, for I was led 
 to one of the sitting -out places. So stupidly 
 ignorant was I in the ways of balls that I did 
 not realize that we should be practically alone, 
 or I would have remained glued to the ball- 
 room. However, before I knew it we were seated 
 on a sofa behind a screen, in a subdued light. 
 
 " Are you never going to give me a kiss, Am- 
 brosine?" Augustus said, pleadingly. 
 
 " Certainly not here/' I exclaimed. " How can 
 you be so horrid?" 
 
 "You are a little vixen." 
 
 "You may call me what you like; I 'do not 
 care. But you shall not make me a public dis- 
 grace/' I retorted. 
 
 "I think you are deucedly unkind to me/' 
 he said, his sulky underlip pouting. 
 
 I controlled myself. I tried to remember grand- 
 mamma's last advice to me, to be as agreeable 
 as possible and not come to a quarrel. She 
 said I must even submit to a certain amount 
 of familiarity from my betrothed. These were 
 her words : ' It is in the nature of men, my 
 child, to wish to demonstrate by outward marks 
 of affection their possession and appreciation of 
 their fianc&s, and, unfortunately, the English 
 customs permit such an amount of license in 
 this direction that I fear you must submit to 
 a little, at least, with a good grace." 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I softened my voice. "I do not mean to be 
 unkind/' I said, "but it is all so very sudden. 
 You must give me time to accustom myself to 
 the idea of having a fiance you see, I have 
 never had one before/' and I tried to laugh. 
 
 He was slightly mollified. 
 
 " Well, at least let me hold your hand/' he said. 
 
 I gave him a stiff, unsympathetic set of fingers, 
 which he proceeded to kiss through the glove. 
 My attention was so taken up with trying to see 
 if any one was coming, to avoid the disgrace of 
 being caught thus, that I had not even time to 
 feel the nastiness of it. 
 
 Augustus was murmuring sentences of love 
 all the time. It must have sounded like this: 
 
 "Darling, what a dear little paw!" 
 
 "Oh! is not that a lady looking this way?" 
 
 "I should like to kiss your arm " 
 
 " I am sure they can see in here by that look- 
 ing-glass/' 
 
 "Why won't you let me kiss just that jolly 
 little curl on your neck?" 
 
 "I am certain some one is coming oh! oh!" 
 
 These "ohs" were caused by Augustus hav- 
 ing got so beside himself that he actually bent 
 down and kissed my shoulder! 
 
 A sudden sense of helplessness came over 
 me. I felt crushed, as if I could not fight any 
 more, as if all was ended. 
 
 "Good God! How white you are, darling ! What 
 is the matter?" I heard his voice saying, as if 
 4 49 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 in a dream. " Come, let me take you to have 
 some champagne/' 
 
 I bounded up at that I should get out of this 
 cage. In the refreshment-room some of the other 
 Yeomen were standing with their partners. The 
 dance was over and they came up, and Augus- 
 tus introduced several of them, and, mercifully, 
 I was soon engaged to dance for numbers ahead. 
 Neither their faces nor their conversation made 
 the slightest impression on me. These were 
 the " jolly fellows/' I suppose, but I felt grateful 
 to them for taking up my time, and I talked 
 as gayly as I could, and one or two of them 
 danced nicely. Between each dance there was 
 Augustus waiting for me. But I soon found it 
 was the custom to stay with one's partner until 
 the next dance began, and so after that I hid 
 in every possible place for the intervals, and 
 then took refuge with the Marquis. Presently 
 there was a set of lancers. Augustus rushed 
 up to me before I could hide. 
 
 "I don't care who you are engaged to," he 
 said, savagely. "You must dance this with 
 me. I have been deuced patient these last four 
 dances, but I won't stand being chucked like 
 this any longer." 
 
 "I am not engaged to any one," I said, stiffly. 
 
 He tucked my hand under his arm and dragged 
 me to where a set was forming, but on the way 
 Lady Tilchester beckoned us to the middle. We 
 took up our position at one of the sides of her 
 
 50 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 set. Augustus was so flattered at this notice 
 that he forgot to grumble further at my long 
 absence. 
 
 Except ourselves, the rest of the sixteen people 
 appeared to be all of her party, and they looked 
 so gay and seemed enjoying themselves; I am 
 afraid grandmamma would have said they romp- 
 ed, rather. Our ms-h-vis were such a pretty girl 
 and a very tall man, and when first he advanced 
 to meet us I felt I had seen him before, and by 
 the second figure I knew it was my friend of the 
 knife. He is very good-looking without the mud. 
 Not the least expression of recognition came 
 into his face, but he laughed gayly at the fun 
 of the thing. After the mad whirl of a chasse, 
 instead of a ladies' chain I have been accus- 
 tomed to, we came to an end. This dance was 
 the first moment of the evening I had enjoyed. 
 All these people interested me; they seemed of 
 another world, a world where grandmamma and 
 I could live happily if we might. They made 
 quite a noise, and they danced badly, but there 
 was nothing vulgar or bourgeois about them. 
 I felt like an animal who sees its own kind 
 again, after captivity; I wanted to break away 
 and join them. Augustus, on the contrary, was 
 extremely ill at ease. 
 
 After that, one dance succeeded another 
 numbers of which I had to spend with my fianc$, 
 but, warned by my first experience, I always 
 pretended a great thirst, or a desire to see the 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 rooms, or an obligation to return to the Marquis, 
 and so went to no more sitting-out places. I 
 did not again see the tall man he seemed to 
 have disappeared until a dance after supper, 
 when we met him with Lady Tilchester. 
 
 "Ah! here you are," she said. "I have been 
 wanting to find you to introduce " At that 
 moment an old gentleman guffawed loudly near 
 us, and so I did not catch the name she said, 
 but we bowed, and the tall man asked me if 
 I would dance that one with him. 
 
 Without the least hesitation I disengaged 
 my hand from the arm of Augustus (he likes 
 to walk thus on every occasion), and said, 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Oh! I say," said my fiancg, with the savage 
 look in his face, "you were going to dance with 
 me." 
 
 Then Lady Tilchester interfered what a dear 
 and kind soul she must have! She said so 
 sweetly, as if Augustus was a prince, "Won't 
 you accept me as a substitute, Mr. Gurrage?" 
 
 Augustus was overcome with pride, and re- 
 linquished me with the best grace. 
 
 Now it was really bliss, dancing with this 
 man; we swam along, swift and smoothly. I 
 could no longer see the walls ; a maze of lights 
 was all my vision grasped I felt bewildered 
 happy. We stopped a moment and he bent down 
 and smiled at me. 
 
 "You look as if you liked dancing," he said. 
 52 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " Poor Lady Tilchester is being mauled by that 
 bear in your place." 
 
 I laughed. "I love dancing." 
 
 " I seldom do this sort of thing/' he continued, 
 "but you are a beautiful mover," and we began 
 again. 
 
 When it was over we went and sat down in 
 the very alcove of my first dance with Augustus. 
 I had no uneasiness this time! 
 
 I can't say what there was about my partner 
 a whimsical humor, a slight mocking sound 
 in his voice, which pleased me; he took nothing 
 seriously; everything he said was as light as 
 a thistle-down; he reminded me of the wit of 
 grandmamma and the Marquis ; we got on beau- 
 tifully. 
 
 "I seem to have seen you before," he said, 
 at last. " Have I met you in Paris? or am I only 
 dreaming? because I know you so well in the 
 galleries at Versailles you stepped down from 
 those frames just to honor us to-night, did you 
 not? and you will go back at cock-crow!" 
 
 "If I only could!" 
 
 He asked me if I was staying at Brackney or 
 Henchhurst, and when I said no, that I lived 
 only a few miles off, he seemed so surprised. 
 
 His brown hair crimps nicely and is rather 
 gray above the ears, but he does not look very 
 old, perhaps not more than thirty-five or so, and 
 now that one can see both his eyes, one realizes 
 that they are rather attractive. A grayish, 
 
 53 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 greeny-blue, with black edges, and such black 
 eyelashes! They are as clear as clear, and 
 I am sure he is a cat and can see in the dark. 
 He laughed at some of the people, even the ones 
 who think themselves great, and he made me 
 feel that he and I were the same and on a plane 
 by ourselves, which was delightful. All this 
 time I did not know his name, nor he mine. As 
 he moved I saw a gold chain in the pocket of 
 his white waistcoat, and just peeping out was 
 the hilt of my little lost knife. I said nothing 
 I don't know why it pleased me to see it 
 there. He had been away in the smoking- 
 room most of the evening, he said, playing 
 bridge. 
 
 The Marquis is teaching it to grandmamma 
 out of a book, but I do not care for cards and 
 it seemed to me such a dull way to spend a ball. 
 I told him so. 
 
 "I like this better/' he said, quite simply, 
 "but then at most balls one does not meet a 
 dainty marquise out of the eighteenth century. 
 Let me see, was there not a story of the great 
 Dumas about a demoiselle d'honneur of Marie 
 Antoinette I don't remember her name or her 
 history, but she became the Comtesse de Charny. 
 Now I shall think of you by that name the 
 Comtesse de Charny. Tell me, Comtesse, does 
 it not shock your senses, our modern worship 
 of that excellent, useful, comfortable fellow, 
 the Golden Calf?" 
 
 54 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I don't know anything at all about him 
 who is he?" I said. 
 
 "Oh, he is a Jew, or a Turk, or an African 
 millionaire any one with a hundred thousand 
 a year/' 
 
 I thought of Augustus "calf" seemed just 
 the word for him. 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 "We have a beautiful example of one here 
 to-night/' he continued; "indeed you were dan- 
 cing with him the bear who mauled Lady 
 Tilchester. How did you get to know such a 
 person?" 
 
 My heart gave a bound. 
 
 "I am engaged to Mr. Gurrage," I said, in a 
 half voice, but raising my head. 
 
 Oh, the surprise and and disgust in his eyesl 
 Then, I don't know what he saw in my face, 
 I tried only to look calm and indifferent, but 
 the contempt went out of his manner, his eyes 
 softened, and he put out his hand and touched 
 my fingers very gently. 
 
 "Oh, you poor little white Comtesse!" he said. 
 
 I ought to have been furious. Pity, as a rule, 
 angers me so that it would render me capable 
 of being torn to pieces by lions without flinch- 
 ing; but I am ashamed oh! so ashamed to 
 say that tears sprang up into my eyes tears! 
 Mercifully, grandmamma will never know. 
 
 "Come," I said, and we rose and walked down 
 the corridor. There we met Augustus, with a 
 
 55 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 face like thunder. He had been looking every 
 where for me, he said. It appeared we had been 
 sitting out for two dances. 
 
 "You promised me this one more turn/' said 
 the tall man, quite unabashed; "they are play- 
 ing a charming valse." 
 
 "She is engaged to me/' growled Augustus. 
 
 "No, I am not/' I said, smiling into his angry 
 face; "I am quite my own mistress as regards 
 whom I dance with. I will come back when it 
 is finished and you shall have the next one/' 
 and I walked off with my friend of the knife. 
 
 Whether my fiancG stood there and swore or 
 not I do not know; I did not look back. We 
 did not speak a word until the dance was fin- 
 ished, my partner and I. Then he said: 
 
 "Thank you, little lady. We have, at all 
 events, snatched some few good moments out 
 of this evening. Now, I suppose, we must re- 
 turn to your bear/' 
 
 Augustus was standing by the buffet drink- 
 ing champagne when we caught sight of him. 
 We stepped for a moment out of his view behind 
 some palms. 
 
 "Good-bye, Comtesse." 
 
 "Good-bye/' I said. "Will you tell me your 
 name? I did not hear it " 
 
 "My name! Oh, my name is Antony Thorn- 
 hirst why do you start?" 
 
 "I did not start good-bye " 
 
 "No, you shall not go until you tell me why 
 56 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 you started? And your name, too; I do not 
 know it either!" 
 
 "Ambrosine de Calincourt Athelstan." 
 
 He knitted his level eyebrows as if trying to 
 recall something, and absently began to pull 
 the knife out of his pocket. Augustus was 
 coming towards us. 
 
 "Yes," I said, "but it is too late. Good- 
 bye." 
 
 The look of indifference, the rather mocking 
 smile, the sans souci, which are the chief charac- 
 teristics of his face, altered. I left him puzzled 
 moved. 
 
 Grandmamma was awake, propped up in bed, 
 her hair still powdered and her lace night-cap 
 on, when the Marquis and I got home. I leaned 
 over the rail and told her all about the ball. 
 The Marquis sat in the arm-chair by the fire. 
 
 "And where is your promised bouquet, my 
 child?" she asked. 
 
 I faltered. 
 
 "Well, you see, grandmamma, I put it in a 
 chair after the beginning, and Mrs. Gurrage sat 
 on it, so I thought perhaps, as it was all mashed, 
 I could leave it behind." 
 
 Grandmamma laughed; she was pleased, I 
 could see, that the evening had gone off without 
 a fiasco! 
 
 "I met Sir Antony Thornhirst," I said. 
 
 The blue mark appeared vividly and suddenly 
 57 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 round grandmamma's mouth she shut her eyes 
 for a moment. I rushed to her. 
 
 "Oh, dear grandmamma/' I said, "what can 
 I do?" 
 
 She drank something out of a glass beside 
 her, and then said, in rather a weak voice: 
 
 "You were saying you met your kinsman. 
 And what was he like, Ambrosine?" 
 
 " Well, he was tall and very straight, and had 
 small ears and er a fairish mustache that was 
 brushed up a little away from his lips, and 
 and cat's eyes, and brown, crimpy hair, get- 
 ting a little gray/' 
 
 "Yes, yes; but I mean what sort of a man?" 
 
 "Oh! a gentleman/' 
 
 "But of course." 
 
 "Well, he laughed at everything and called 
 me an eighteenth-century comtesse." 
 
 "Did he know who you were?" 
 
 " No, not till the end, and then I do not think 
 he realized that I was a connection of his." 
 
 "It does not matter," said grandmamma, low 
 to herself, "as it is too late/' 
 
 "Yes, I told him it was too late." 
 
 Grandmamma's voice sharpened. 
 
 "You told him! What do you mean?" and 
 she leaned forward a little. 
 
 "I don't quite know what I did mean those 
 words just slipped out." 
 
 She lay back on her pillows poor grand- 
 mamma as if she was exhausted. 
 
 58 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Child/' she said, very low, "yes never 
 forget we have given our word; whatever hap- 
 pens, any change is too late." 
 
 A look of anguish came over her face. Oh, 
 how it hurt me to see her suffering! 
 
 "Dear grandmamma/'' I said, "do not think 
 I mind. I have done and will do all you wish, 
 and and as the Marquis said it will not 
 matter in a year/' 
 
 The Marquis, I believe, had been dozing, but at 
 the sound of his name he looked up and spoke. 
 
 " Chere amie, you can indeed be proud of la 
 belle debutante to-night ; she was by far the most 
 beautiful at the ball sans exception! Even the 
 adorable Lady Tilchester had not her grand 
 air. Les demoiselles anglaises ! Ce sont des fago- 
 tages inou'is pour la plus part, with their move- 
 ments of the wooden horse and their skins of 
 the goddess! As for le fianc&, il 6tait assez re- 
 tenu, il avait pourtant I'air maussade, mais il 
 se consolait avec du champagne il fera un tres 
 brave mari." 
 
THE next day Augustus went to London by 
 the early train. I fortunately saw the dog-cart 
 coming, and rushed to tell Hephzibah to say I 
 was not up if he stopped, which of course he did 
 on his way to the station. He left a message 
 for me. He would be back at half -past four, and 
 would come in to tea. The Marquis and I were 
 to dine there in the evening, so I am sure that 
 would be time enough to have seen him. Grand- 
 mamma said it was no doubt the engagement- 
 ring he had gone to London to buy, and that I 
 really must receive it with a good grace. 
 
 At about four o'clock, while I was reading 
 aloud the oration of Bossuet on the funeral of 
 Madame d'OrlSans, the tuff-tuff-tuff of a motor- 
 car was heard, and it drew up at our gate and out 
 got Sir Antony Thornhirst and Lady Tilchester. 
 
 Although I could see them with the corner of 
 my eye, and grandmamma could too, I should 
 not have dared to have stopped my reading, and 
 was actually in the middle of a sentence when 
 Hephzibah announced them. I did not forget to 
 make my reverence this time, and grandmamma 
 half rose from her chair. Lady Tilchester has 
 
 60 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 the most lovely manners. In a few minutes we 
 all felt perfectly happy together, and she had 
 told us how Sir Antony was so anxious to make 
 grandmamma's acquaintance, having discovered 
 by chance that he was a connection of hers, that 
 she Lady Tilchester had slipped away from 
 her guests and brought him over in her new 
 motor, and she trusted grandmamma would for- 
 give her unannounced descent upon us. She 
 also said how she wished she had heard before 
 that we were in this neighborhood, that she 
 might have months ago made our acquaintance, 
 and could perhaps have been useful to us. 
 
 I shall always love her, her sweet voice and 
 the beautiful diffidence of her manner to grand- 
 mamma, as though she were receiving a great 
 honor by grandmamma's reception of her. So 
 different to Mrs. Gurrage's patronizing vulgarity ! 
 I could see grandmamma was delighted with her. 
 
 Sir Antony talked to me. He asked me if I 
 was tired, or something banal like that ; his voice 
 was distraite. I answered him gayly, and then we 
 changed seats, and he had a conversation with 
 grandmamma. I do not know what they spoke 
 about, as Lady Tilchester and I went to the other 
 end of the room, but his manner looked so gallant, 
 and I knew by grandmamma's face that she was 
 saying the witty, sententious things that she 
 does to the Marquis. A faint pink flush came 
 into her cheeks which made her look such a very 
 beautiful old lady. 
 
 61 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Lady Tilchester talked to me about the garden 
 and the ball the night before, and at last asked 
 me when I was going to be married. 
 
 It seemed to bring me back with a rush to earth 
 from some enchanted world which contained no 
 Augustus. 
 
 " I don't know/' I faltered, and then, ashamed 
 of my silly voice, said, firmly, "'Grandmamma 
 has not arranged the date yet " 
 
 "I hope you will be very happy/' said Lady 
 Tilchester, and she would not look at me, which 
 was kind of her. 
 
 '"Thank you/' I said. "Grandmamma is no 
 longer young, and she will feel relieved to know 
 I have a home of my own." 
 
 "It is delightful to think we shall have you 
 for a neighbor. Harley is only fifteen miles 
 from here. I wonder if Mrs. Athelstan would 
 let you come and stay a few days with me?" 
 
 "Oh! I should love to," I said. 
 
 However, grandmamma, when the subject was 
 broached to her presently, firmly declined. 
 
 "A month ago I should have accepted with 
 much pleasure/' she said, "but circumstances 
 and my health do not now permit me to part 
 even for a short time with Ambrosine." 
 
 She looked at Lady Tilchester and Lady Til- 
 chester looked back at her, and although noth- 
 ing more was said about the matter, I am sure 
 they understood each other. 
 
 Sir Antony came and sat by me in the win- 
 62 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 dow-sill. I was wearing my chatelaine and he 
 noticed it. 
 
 "I am a blind idiot \" he exclaimed. "Of 
 course you are the kind lady who lent me the 
 knife, which I broke, and then stole in a brutal 
 way." 
 
 "I saw you did not recognize me the other 
 night." 
 
 " I could only see out of one eye, you know, 
 that day in the lane that must be my excuse." 
 
 I said nothing. 
 
 "I am not going to give back the knife." 
 
 "Then it is real stealing and it spoils my 
 chatelaine," I said, holding up the empty chain. 
 
 "I will give you another in its place, but I 
 must keep this one." 
 
 "That is silly why?" 
 
 " It is very agreeable to do silly things some- 
 times for instance, I should like " 
 
 What he would have liked I never knew, for at 
 that moment we both caught sight of Augustus 
 getting out of his station brougham at our gate. 
 
 "Here comes your bear," said Sir Antony, but 
 he did not attempt to stir from his seat. We 
 could see Augustus walk up the path and turn 
 the handle of the front door without ringing. 
 In this impertinence I am glad to say he was 
 checked, as Hephzibah had fortunately let the 
 bolt slip after showing in Lady Tilchester. He 
 rang an angry peal. Grandmamma frowned. 
 
 When Augustus finally got into the room his 
 63 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 face was purple. He had hardly self-control 
 enough to greet Lady Tilchester with his usual 
 obsequiousness. She talked charmingly to him 
 for a few moments, and then got up to go. 
 
 Meanwhile Sir Antony had been conversing 
 with me quite as if no fianc$ had entered the 
 room. 
 
 "You know we are cousins/' he said. 
 
 "Very distant ones/' 
 
 " Why on earth did you not let me know when 
 first you came to this place ?" 
 
 "Grandmamma has never told me why she 
 left you uninformed of our arrival/' I laughed. 
 "How could we have known it would interest 
 you?" 
 
 " But you don't you ever do anything of your 
 own accord?" 
 
 "I would like to sometimes." 
 
 "It is monstrous to have kept you shut up 
 here and then to " 
 
 Augustus crossed the room. 
 
 "Ambrosine," he interrupted, rudely, "I shall 
 come and fetch you this evening for dinner, as 
 you are too busy now to speak to me." 
 
 "Very well," I said. 
 
 Sir Aiitony rose, and we made a general good- 
 bye. 
 
 There was something disturbed in his face 
 as if he had not said what he meant to. A sick- 
 ening anger and disgust with fate made my 
 hand cold. Oh! if Alas! 
 
 64 
 
VI 
 
 TO-MORROW is my wedding-day the I Oth of 
 June. There is my dress spread over the sofa, 
 looking like a ghost in the dim light I have only 
 one candle on the dressing-table. It is pouring 
 rain and there are rumbles of thunder in the 
 distance. Well, let it pour and hail and rage, 
 and do what it pleases I don't care ! Just now 
 a flash came nearer and seemed to catch the 
 huge diamonds in my engagement - ring, which 
 hangs loose on my finger now. I flung it into 
 the little china tray, where strings of pearls and 
 a fender tiara are already reposing ready for to- 
 morrow. I shall blaze with jewels, and Augustus 
 will be able to tell the guests how much they 
 all cost. 
 
 This month of my fiangailles has been noth- 
 ing agreeable to recall. Indeed, I should not 
 have been able to go through with it only the 
 blue mark has so often appeared round grand- 
 mamma's mouth, especially when Augustus and 
 I have had trifling differences of opinion. 
 
 Long years ago, one summer we spent at 
 Versailles when I was a child, I remember an 
 incident. 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I was sitting reading aloud to grandmamma in 
 the garden when from the trees above there fell 
 upon my neck, which was bare, a fat, hairy 
 caterpillar. I recollect I gave a gurgling, nasty 
 scream, and dropped the book. 
 
 Grandmamma was very angry. She explain- 
 ed to me that such noises were extremely vulgar, 
 and that if my flesh was so little under control 
 that this should turn me sick, the sooner I got 
 over such fancies the better. 
 
 She made me pick the creature up and let it 
 crawl over my arm. At first I nearly felt mad 
 with horror, but gradually custom deadened the 
 sensation, and although it remained disagree- 
 able, I could contemplate it without emotion. 
 
 This memory has often proved useful to me 
 during this last month. To -day, even, I was 
 able to sit upon the sofa and allow Augustus to 
 kiss me for quite ten minutes, without having to 
 rush up and take sal-volatile, as I had to in the 
 beginning. 
 
 I have been through various trying ordeals. 
 The tenants have presented us with silver trays 
 and other things, and we have listened to speech- 
 es, and bowed sweetly, and numbers of hitherto 
 distant acquaintances have showered presents 
 upon us. My future mother-in-law has loaded 
 me with advice, chiefly of a purely domestic kind, 
 most of it a guide as to how I had better please 
 Augustus. 
 
 It appears he likes thick toast in preference 
 66 
 
CHE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 to thin, and thick soups; also that a habit he has 
 of taking Welsh rarebit and stout for a late supper 
 when he sits up alone is not good for his diges- 
 tion and is to be discouraged. She hopes I will 
 see that he wears his second thinnest Jager vests 
 in Paris, not the thinnest which ought to be kept 
 for August warmth as once before when there 
 he caught a bad catarrh of the chest through 
 this imprudence. 
 
 Lady Tilchester is coming down from London 
 in a special train on purpose to grace our bridal 
 ceremony. She has sent me the prettiest brooch 
 and such a nice letter. 
 
 I hope she will be a consolation in the future. 
 For me life must be a thing of waking in the 
 morning, and eating and drinking, and taking 
 exercise, and going to bed again, and deadening 
 all emotions, or else I feel sure I shall get a dread- 
 ful disease I once read about in an American 
 paper Hephzibah takes in. It is called " sponta- 
 neous combustion/' and it said in the paper 
 that a man caught it from having got into a 
 compressed state of heat and rage for weeks, and 
 it made him burst up at last into flames like an 
 exploding shell. 
 
 Well, at all events, I have kept my word, and 
 grandmamma is content with me. 
 
 Miss Hoad I shall have to call her Amelia 
 now is enchanted with the whole entertain- 
 ment. She is to be the only bridesmaid, and 
 has chosen the dress herself. It is coffee lace 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 with a mustard-yellow sash. It will match her 
 complexion. And Augustus is presenting her 
 with a huge bouquet, no doubt of the cauli- 
 flower shape, like my famous one, besides a 
 diamond-and-ruby watch. 
 
 I wonder if Sir Antony will be at the wedding 
 he was asked. 
 
 The Marquis de Rochermont will give me away 
 grandmamma is too feeble now to stand. The 
 ceremony is to be in the village church here, 
 and the choir, composed of village youths un- 
 acquainted with a note of music, is to meet us at 
 the lich-gate and precede us up the aisle, sing- 
 ing an encouraging wedding-hymn, while school- 
 children spread forced white roses, provided by 
 the Tilchester rose-growers. 
 
 Augustus explained that patronizing local re- 
 sources like this will all come in useful when he 
 stands for Parliament later on. 
 
 Grandmamma stipulated that there should 
 be no wedding feast, her health and our small 
 house being sufficient excuse. It is a great dis- 
 appointment to Mrs. Gurrage, I am sure, but we 
 go away to Paris as soon as I can change my 
 dress after the church ceremony. 
 
 Think of it! This time to-morrow my name 
 will be Gurrage! And Augustus will have the 
 right to Merciful God! stop my heart from 
 beating in this sickening fashion, and let 
 me remember the motto of my race " Sans 
 bruit." 
 
 68 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Oh, grandmamma, if I could go on your jour- 
 ney with you! The first jump out into the dark 
 might be fearful, but afterwards it would be 
 quiet and still, and there would be no cater- 
 pillars ! 
 
 That was a beautiful flash of lightning ! The 
 storm is coming nearer. Sparks flew from my 
 diamond fender on the dressing-table. Well 
 well I I wish I had seen Sir Antony again. 
 Just now he sent me a present. It is a knife for 
 my chatelaine, the hilt studded with diamonds, 
 and there is a note which says that there is still 
 time to cut the Gordian knot. 
 
 What does it mean? I feel cold, as if I could 
 not understand things to-night. 
 
 The Marquis gave me some conseils de mariage 
 this afternoon. 
 
 "Remain placid/' he said, " fermez les yeux 
 et pensez a autrui aprds vous aurez les agre- 
 ments." 
 
 Grandmamma has not even kissed me. Her 
 eyes resemble a hawk's still, but have the look 
 of a tortured tiger as well sometimes. She 
 has grown terribly feeble, and has twice had 
 fainting-fits like the one that changed my des- 
 tiny. I believe she is remaining alive simply 
 by strength of will and that she will die when 
 all is over. 
 
 She has given me the greatest treasure of her 
 life, the miniature of Ambrosine Eustasie. I have 
 it here by my side for my very own. 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Yes, Ambrosine Eustasie, for me to-morrow 
 there is also the guillotine; and perhaps I, too, 
 could walk up the steps smiling if I were allowed 
 a rose to keep off the smell of the common people ; 
 Augustus's mother uses patchouli. 
 
BOOK II 
 
I 
 
 No one can possibly imagine the unpleasant- 
 ness of a honey-moon until they have tried it. 
 It is no wonder one is told nothing at all about 
 it. Even to keep my word and obey grand- 
 mamma I could never have undertaken it if I 
 had had an idea what it would be like. Really, 
 girls' dreams are the silliest things in the world. 
 I can't help staring at all the married people I 
 see about. "You poor wretches! have gone 
 through this/' I say to myself; and then I wonder 
 and wonder that they can smile and look gay. 
 I long to ask them when the calmness and in- 
 difference set in ; how long I shall have to wait 
 before I can really profit by grandmamma's 
 lesson of the caterpillar. It was useful for the 
 fiangailles, but it has not comforted me much 
 since my wedding. 
 
 In old-fashioned books, when the heroine 
 comes to anything exciting, or when the situa- 
 tion is too difficult for the author to describe, 
 there is always a row of stars. It seems to mean 
 a jump, a break to be filled up as each person 
 pleases. I feel I must leave this part of my life 
 marked with this row of stars. 
 
 73 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 It is two weeks now since I wrote my name 
 Ambrosine de Calincourt Athelstan for the last 
 time, two weeks since I walked down the rose- 
 strewn guillotine steps on Augustus's arm, two 
 weeks since he Ah, no ! I will never look back 
 at that. Let these hideous two weeks sink into 
 the abyss of oblivion! 
 
 It hardly seems possible that in fifteen days 
 one could so completely alter one's views and 
 notions of life. I cannot look at anything with 
 the same eyes. It is all very well for people to 
 talk philosophy, but it is difficult to be philosoph- 
 ical when one's every sense is being continual^ 
 froisse. I feel sometimes that I could commit 
 murder, and I do not know when I shall be able 
 to take the Marquis's advice to remain placid 
 and shut my eyes and try to get what good out 
 of life I can. 
 
 Augustus as a husband is extremely un- 
 pleasant. I hate the way his hair is brushed 
 there always seems to be a lock sticking up in 
 the back; I hate the way he ties his ties; I hate 
 everything he says and does. I keep saying 
 to myself when I hear him coming, "remember 
 the caterpillar, caterpillar, caterpillar." And 
 once in the beginning, when I was screwing up 
 my eyes not to see, he got quite close before I 
 knew and he heard me saying it aloud. 
 
 He bounced away, thinking I meant there 
 was one crawling on him, and then he got quite 
 cross. 
 
 74 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "There are no caterpillars here, Ambrosine. 
 How silly you are!" he said. 
 
 He revels in being at once recognized as a 
 bridegroom. He has dreadfully familiar ways 
 and catches hold of my arm in public, making 
 us both perfectly ridiculous. He has insisted 
 upon buying me numbers of gorgeous garments 
 for my outer covering, but when I ventured to 
 order some very fine other things he grumbled 
 at the cost. 
 
 "I don't mind your getting clothes that will 
 show the money I've put into them/' he ex- 
 plained, " but I'm bothered if I'll encourage use- 
 less extravagance in this way." 
 
 At the play he never understands more than 
 a few words, but is always asking me to explain 
 what it means when there is anything interest- 
 ing, so I miss most of it myself from having to 
 talk, and some of the French plays are really 
 very funny, I find, and have opened my eyes 
 a great deal, and I even I could laugh if I 
 were left in peace to listen a little. 
 
 Augustus is furiously angry, too, when the 
 Frenchmen look at me. I never thought I could 
 even notice the gaze of strangers, but I am 
 ashamed to say that last night it quite pleased 
 me. 
 
 We were dining at Paillard's, and two really 
 nice-looking Frenchmen had the next table. 
 They looked at me, and Augustus glared at 
 them and fussed the waiters more than usual, 
 
 75 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 and wanted to hurry me as much as possible to 
 get away ; so I asked for other dishes and peach- 
 es and nectarines and things out of season. At 
 last, when I had dawdled quite an extra half- 
 hour, it came to an end, and the usual sums on 
 the margin of the bill began Augustus adds up 
 every item to see no sou has been overcharged. 
 At this point I looked up and caught one of the 
 Frenchmen's eye. Of course I glanced away 
 at once, but there was such a gleam of fun in 
 his that I nearly smiled. Then suddenly the 
 recollection came upon me that this creature, 
 this thing sitting opposite me, belonged to me. 
 I have his name, he is my husband. I must 
 not laugh with others at his odious ways. After 
 that I was glad to creep away. 
 
 I am worried about grandmamma. She has 
 not written; there only came a small note from 
 the Marquis. 1 am sure she must be very ill, if not 
 already dead. I cannot grieve; I almost feel as 
 if I wished it so. Augustus as a grandson-in-law 
 would sting her fine senses unbearably. He blus- 
 ters continually, and his airs of proprietorship 
 envers moi would irritate her; besides, she would 
 always have the idea that she is cheating me by 
 remaining alive, that, after all, my marriage was 
 not a necessity if she is still there to keep me. 
 Oh, dear grandmamma! if I could save you a 
 moment's sorrow you know I would. When I 
 said good-bye to her she held me close and kissed 
 me. " Ambrosine/' she said, " I shall have start- 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 ed upon my journey before you come back; you 
 must not grieve or be sad. My last advice to you, 
 my child, is to remember life is full of compensa- 
 tions, as you will find. Try to see the bright 
 and gay side of things, and, above all, do not 
 be dramatic/' 
 
 She was always cheerful, grandmamma, but 
 if I could just see her again to tell her I will, in- 
 deed I will, try to follow her advice ! Hush ! here 
 is Augustus; I hear his clumsy footsteps. He 
 has a telegram. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! My fears are true grandmamma 
 died this morning. Oh ! I cannot write, the tears 
 make everything a mist. 
 
 It is late July and I am at Ledstone as its 
 nominal mistress I say nominal, for Augustus's 
 mother reigns, as she always did. 
 
 The sorrow of grandmamma's death, the feel- 
 ing that nothing can matter in the world now, 
 has kept me from caring or asserting myself in 
 any way. I feel numb. I seem to be a person 
 listening from some gallery when they all speak 
 around me, and that the Ambrosine who answers 
 placidly is an automaton who moves by clock- 
 work. 
 
 Shall I ever wake again? I sit night after 
 night in my mother-in-law's "budwar," the crim- 
 son-satin chairs staring at me, the wedding-cake 
 ornament with its silver leaves glittering in the 
 electric light; I sit there listening vaguely to her 
 
 77 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 admonitions and endless prattle of Augustus's 
 perfections. I have now heard every incident 
 of his childhood: what ailments he had, what 
 medicines suited him best, when he cut all those 
 superfluous teeth of his. 
 
 One little trait appears to have been considered 
 a sign of great astuteness and infantine per- 
 ception. His fond parents the late Mr. Gurrage 
 was alive then gave him a new threepenny 
 bit each week to give to a barrel-organ man 
 who played before the house at Bournemouth. 
 Augustus at the age of two invariably changed 
 it on the stairs with the butler for two pennies 
 and two halfpennies, keeping one penny half- 
 penny for himself. 
 
 "Me dear" my mother-in-law always com- 
 pletes this story with this sentence "Mr. Gur- 
 rage said to me, 'Mark my word, Mary Jane, 
 the boy will get on!"' 
 
 In the class of my belle famille, mourning is 
 fortunately a matter of such importance that the 
 wearing of crpe for grandmamma has been 
 allowed to be sufficient reason for abandoning 
 the wedding rejoicings. 
 
 Dear grandmamma! it would please you to 
 know your death had done me even this service. 
 I am encouraged to grieve, especially in public. 
 Mrs. Gurrage herself put on black, and her face 
 beamed all over with enjoyable tears the first 
 Sunday we rustled into the family pew stiff with 
 crpe and hangings of woe. They gave grand- 
 
 78 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 mamma what Miss Hoad I mean Amelia 
 called a "proper funeral." 
 
 And so all is done even the Marquis has 
 gone back to France, and only Roy is left. 
 
 There is something in his brown eyes of sym- 
 pathy which I cannot bear; the lump keeps com- 
 ing in my throat. Kind dog, you are my friend. 
 
 Next week Lady Tilchester will have returned 
 to Harley, and soon Augustus and I are to go 
 and pay a three days' visit there. 
 
 Once what joy this thought would have caused 
 me I was going to say when I was young! I 
 shall be twenty next October, but I feel as if I 
 must be at least fifty years old. 
 
 Augustus is not a gay companion. He has a 
 sulky temper; he is often offended with me for 
 no reason, and then a day or so afterwards will 
 be horribly affectionate, and give me a present 
 to make up for it. I can never get accustomed to 
 his calling me Ambrosine it always jars, as if 
 one suddenly heard a shopman taking this liberty. 
 It is equally unpleasant as "little woman" or 
 "dearie," both of which besprinkle all his sen- 
 tences. He has not a mind that makes it pos- 
 sible to have any conversation with him. He 
 told me to-day that I was the stupidest cold statue 
 of a woman he had ever met, and then he shook 
 me until I felt giddy, and kissed me until I could 
 not see. After a scene of this kind I feel too limp 
 to move. I creep out into the garden and hide 
 with Roy in a clump of laurel bushes, where there 
 
 79 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 is a neglected sun-dial that was once the centre 
 of the old garden, and left there when the new 
 shrubbery was planted; there is about six feet 
 bare space around it, and no one ever comes 
 there, so I am safe. 
 
 Sometimes from my hiding-place I hear Au- 
 gustus calling me, but I never answer, and yes- 
 terday I caught sight of him through the bush- 
 es biting his nails with annoyance; he could not 
 think where I had disappeared to. It comforted 
 me to sit there and make faces at him like a 
 gutter-child. 
 
 I have never had the courage to go back to the 
 cottage. It is just as it was, with all grandmam- 
 ma's dear old things in it, waiting for me to 
 decide where I will have them put. Hephzibah 
 has married her grocer's man, and lives there as 
 caretaker. 
 
 I suppose some day I shall have to go down 
 and settle things, but I feel as if it would be des- 
 ecration to bring the Sevres and miniatures and 
 the Louis XV. berg&re here to hobnob with the 
 new productions from Tottenham Court Road. 
 
 Augustus is having some rooms arranged for 
 me, so that I, LOO, shall have a "budwar" for 
 myself. He has not consulted my taste; it is all 
 to be a surprise. And an army of workmen are 
 still in the house, and I have caught glimpses 
 of brilliant, new, gilt chairs and terra-cotta and 
 buffish brocade (I loathe those colors) being 
 carried up. 
 
 80 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " Then I'll be able to have you more to myself 
 in the evening/' said Augustus. "The drawing- 
 rooms are too big and the mater's bud war is too 
 small, and you hate my den, so I hope this will 
 please you." 
 
 I said "Thank you/' without enthusiasm. I 
 would prefer the company of my mother-in-law 
 or Amelia to being more alone with Augustus. 
 The crimson - satin chairs are so uncomfortable 
 that now he leaves us almost directly after dinner 
 to lounge in his "den," and I have to go there 
 and say good-night to him. The place smells 
 of stale smoke, some particularly strong, common 
 tobacco he will have in a pipe. He gets into a 
 soiled, old, blue smoking - coat, and sits there 
 reading the comic papers, huddled in a deep 
 arm-chair, a whiskey-and-soda mixed ready by 
 his side. He is generally half -asleep when 
 I get there. I do not stay five minutes if I 
 can help it; it is not agreeable, the smell of 
 whiskey. 
 
 There are so few books in the house. The 
 f*-st instalment of my handsome "allowance" 
 will soon be paid me, and then I will have books 
 of my own. I shall feel like a servant receiving 
 the first month's wages in a new place a mis- 
 erable beginner of a servant who has never been 
 "out" before. I feel I have earned them, though 
 earned them with hard work. 
 
 Just this last month numbers of people have 
 been to call on me. They left only cards at first, 
 
 6 8l 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 because of my "sad loss/' but we often are at 
 home now when they come. 
 
 My mother-in-law's visiting-list is a large one, 
 and comprises the whole of the "villa" people 
 from Tilchester as well as the county families. 
 With the former she is deliciously patronizingly 
 friendly; they are all "me dears/' and they talk 
 about their servants and ailments and babies, 
 mixed with the doings of Lady Tilchester they 
 always speak of her as the "Marchioness of 
 Tilchester." They are at home when we return 
 the visits sometimes, too, and this kind of thing 
 happens : our gorgeous prune - and - scarlet foot- 
 man condescendingly walks up their paths and 
 thumps loudly at their well-cleaned brass knocker, 
 and presses their electric bell. A jaunty lump 
 of a parlor-maid in a fluster at the sight of so 
 much grandeur says "At home" (some of them 
 have "days"), and we are ushered into a narrow 
 hall and so to a drawing-room. They seem 
 always to be papered with buff-and-mustard 
 papers and to have "pongee" sofa-cushions with 
 frills. There is often tennis going on on the 
 neat lawn beyond, and we see visions of large, 
 pink-faced girls and callow youths taking exer- 
 cise. The hostess gushes at us: "Dear Mrs. 
 Gurrage, so good of you to come and this is 
 Mrs. Gussie?" (Yes, I am called Mrs. Gussie. 
 Oh! grandmamma, do you hear?) We sit 
 down. 
 
 I have no intention of freezing people, but they 
 82 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 are hideously ill at ease with me, and say all 
 kinds of foolishnesses from sheer nervousness. 
 
 The worst happened last week, when one par- 
 ticularly motherly, blooming solicitor's wife, after 
 recounting to us in full detail the arrival of her 
 first grandchild, hoped Mrs. Gurrage would soon 
 be in her happy position! 
 
 Merciful Providence, I pray that never! 
 
 The county people are not so often at home, 
 but when they are it is hardly more interesting. 
 There do not seem to be many attractive people 
 among them. They are stiff, and it is my mother- 
 in-law who is sometimes ill at ease, though she 
 gushes and blusters as usual. The conversation 
 here is of societies, the Girls' Friendly Society, 
 the Cottage Hospital, the movements of the 
 Church, the continuance of the war, the fear the 
 rest of the Tilchester Yeomanry will volunteer; 
 and now and then the hostess warms up, if there 
 is a question of a subscription, to her own pet 
 hobby. Their houses are for the most part taste- 
 less, too; they seem to live in a respectable bornG 
 world of daily duties and sleep. Of the three 
 really big houses within driving distance, one is 
 shut up, one is inhabited for a month or two in 
 the autumn, and the third is let to a successful 
 oil merchant to whom Augustus and my mother- 
 in-law have a great objection, but I can see no 
 difference between oil and carpets. I have seen 
 the man, and he is a weazly looking little rat 
 who drives good horses. 
 
 83 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I wonder what has become of my kinsman, 
 Antony Thornhirst. He came with Lady Til- 
 chester to the wedding. I saw his strange eyes 
 looking at me as I walked down the aisle on 
 Augustus's arm. His face was the only one I 
 realized in the crowd. We did not speak; indeed, 
 he never was near me afterwards until I got into 
 the carriage. I wonder if he will be at Harley 
 I wonder! 
 
 Augustus wishes me to be "very smart" for 
 this visit; he tells me I am to take all my best 
 clothes and "cut the others out/' It really 
 grieves him that my garments should be black. 
 He suggested to his mother that she had better 
 lend me some of the "family jewels" to aug- 
 ment my own large store, but fortunately Mrs. 
 Gurrage is of a tenacious disposition and likes 
 to keep her own belongings to herself, so I shall 
 be spared the experience of the park-paling tiara 
 sitting upon my brow. Such things being unsuit- 
 able to be worn at dinner I fear would have 
 little influence upon Augustus; I am trembling 
 even now at what I may be forced to glitter in. 
 
 We are to drive over to Harley late in the 
 afternoon 
 
n 
 
 IN spite of Augustus in spite of everything I 
 suddenly feel as if I had become alive again here 
 at Harley! 
 
 The whole place pleases me. It is an old 
 Georgian house, with long wings stretching 
 right and left, and from a large salon in the 
 centre the other reception-rooms open. 
 
 Lady Tilchester is so kind, and makes one feel 
 perfectly at home. A number of people were as- 
 sembled upon the croquet lawn and in the great 
 tent playing bridge when we arrived, and as no 
 one seems to introduce any one it has taken 
 me two whole days to find out people's names. 
 Some of them, indeed, I have not grasped yet! 
 It does seem a strange custom. Either it is be- 
 cause every one in this set is supposed to be 
 acquainted with the other, and strangers are 
 things that do not count, or that meeting under 
 one roof constitutes an introduction. I have not 
 yet found out which it is. 
 
 Anyway, it makes things dull at first. Augus- 
 tus found it "deuced unpleasant/' he told me, 
 as, instead of remaining quiet until he knew his 
 ground, he proceeded to commit a series of b&ises. 
 
 85 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The first afternoon I subsided into a low chair, 
 and a gruff-looking man handed me some tea, 
 and patted and talked to a bob-tailed sheep-dog 
 that was near. 
 
 I don't know if he expected me to answer for 
 the dog, and so make a conversation. He was 
 disappointed, however, if so, as I remained silent. 
 Presently I discovered he was our host. 
 
 Lady Tilchester was busy being gushed at 
 by Augustus. A little woman with light hair 
 came and sat down at the other side of me. 
 She looks like a young, fluffy chicken, and has a 
 lisp and an infantile voice, and wears numbers 
 of trinkets, and her name, " Babykins," spelled in 
 a brooch of diamonds. I should not like to be 
 called " Baby kins/' and I wonder why one should 
 want strangers to read one's name printed upon 
 one's chest. 
 
 Everything of hers is marked with that. Chain 
 bracelets with "Baby kins" in sapphires and dia- 
 monds. On her handkerchief, which she plays 
 with, "Baby kins " again stares at you. Even 
 the corner of her chemise, which shows through 
 her transparent blouse, has "Babykins" em- 
 broidered on it. It is no wonder even the young 
 men never call her anything else. 
 
 You have the first impression that you are 
 talking to a child, but afterwards you are sur- 
 prised to find what a lot of grown-up, scandalous 
 things she has said 
 
 She was very agreeable to me, and gave me 
 86 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 to understand she was so interested to make 
 my acquaintance, as Lady Tilchester had told 
 her so much about me. 
 
 "You come from Yorkshire, don't you?" she 
 said; "and your husband has that wonderful 
 breed of black pigs, hasn't he?" 
 
 "No," I said, "we live only sixteen miles off." 
 
 " Oh, of course ! How stupid of me ! You are 
 quite another person, I see," and she laughed. 
 "But the pig farmers are coming, and I am so 
 anxious to meet them, as I have a perfect mania 
 for piglets myself. I want to start a new sort, 
 and I hoped you could tell me about them." 
 
 "I am so sorry," I said. "I wish I could 
 help you, but I do not believe except casually 
 in the village that I have ever seen a pig ; they 
 must be delightful companions." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! I have large families of the fat 
 white ones, and really the babies are most engag- 
 ing, and the very image of my step-children. I 
 always tell my husband it seems like eating 
 Alice or Laura when he insists upon having 
 suckling-pig for luncheon. I suppose one would 
 not mind eating one's step - children, though 
 would one? What do you think?" 
 
 Her great, blue eyes looked at me pathetically. 
 
 I tried to consider seriously the problem of the 
 consumption of possible step-children; it was too 
 difficult for me. 
 
 "I quite hoped to make it pay," she continued 
 " keeping prize pigs, I mean; we are so fright- 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 fully poor. But I am away so much I fear it does 
 not do very well. You play bridge, of course?" 
 
 This did not seem to have much to do with 
 the pigs. 
 
 "No, I do not play." 
 
 "You don't play bridge? How on earth do 
 you get through the day?" 
 
 "I really do not know/' 
 
 " Oh, you must learn at once. I can give you 
 the address of a woman in London who goes out 
 for five pounds an afternoon and who would teach 
 you in three or four lessons. It does seem funny, 
 your not playing." 
 
 I said "Yes." 
 
 She did not appear to want many answers from 
 me after this, but prattled on about people and 
 the world in general, and before half an hour 
 was over I was left with the impression that 
 society is chiefly composed of people living upon 
 an agreeable and amusing ground somewhere 
 at the borderland of the divorce court. 
 
 "So tiresome of the husbands!" she concluded. 
 " Before the war they used to be the most docile 
 creatures ; as long as they got a percentage, and 
 the wives did not worry at their own little affairs, 
 all went smoothly. Now, since going out there 
 and fighting, they have come back giving them- 
 selves great airs, and talking about wounded 
 honor, and ridiculous things of that sort that 
 one reads of in early Victorian books. One does 
 not know where it will end." 
 
 88 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 She yawned a little after this, and Lord Til- 
 chester shuffled up and sat down in the corner 
 of the sofa near her. He has the manner of an 
 awkward school-boy. 
 
 " You are taking away every one's character, 
 as usual, I suppose, Baby kins/' he chuckled. 
 "What will Mrs. Gurrage think of it all, I won- 
 der?" 
 
 Lady Tilchester interrupted further conversa- 
 tion by carrying me off to see the garden. She 
 is the most fascinating personality I have yet 
 met. There is something like the sun's rays 
 about her you feel warmed and comforted when 
 she is near. She looks so great and noble, and 
 above all common things, one cannot help won- 
 dering why she married Lord Tilchester, who 
 is quite ordinary. When she talks, every one 
 listens. Her voice is like golden bells, and she 
 never says stupid things that mean nothing. 
 We had half an hour in the glorious garden, 
 and she made me feel that life was a fair thing, 
 and that even I should find bits to smile over. 
 How great to have a nature like this, that 
 one's very presence does good to other human 
 beings ! 
 
 " There are a lot of tiresome people here, I am 
 afraid," she said, at last; "but I wanted you to 
 come to the first party we had after our return, 
 so you must try and not be bored. You shall 
 sit next Mr. Budge to-night; he will be obliged 
 to take in Lady Lambourne, but I will put you 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 on the other side. He will amuse you ; he is the 
 cleverest man I know." 
 
 "Mr. Budge is a politician, is he not?" I asked. 
 "I think I have heard his name." 
 
 " That is delightful, " she laughed. " Poor Mr 
 Budge ! He and, indeed, many of us in England 
 fancies there is no other name to be heard. He 
 has a fault, though. He writes sentimental poetry 
 which is complete rubbish, and he prides himself 
 upon it far more than upon his splendid powers 
 of oratory or wonderful organization capacities." 
 
 " What a strange side for a great man to have ! " 
 I said. "Sentimental poetry it seems so child- 
 ish, does it not?" 
 
 "We all have our weaknesses, I suppose," 
 and she smiled. " We should be very dull if we 
 left nothing for our friends to criticise." 
 
 "Si nous riavions point de dtfauts nous ne 
 prendrions pas tant de plaisir ft, en remarquer 
 dans les autres !" I quoted. 
 
 After a while we went back to the house. 
 
 Augustus and I got down at half-past eight 
 for dinner, as grandmamma had always told 
 me that punctuality is a part of politeness, but 
 only one or two men were standing by the huge 
 wood -fire that burns all the time in the open 
 fireplace in the salon where we assembled. 
 
 We did not know any of their names, and I 
 suppose they did not know ours. We stared 
 at one another, and they went on talking again, 
 all about the war. Augustus joined in. He 
 
 90 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 is dreadfully uneasy in case the rest of the Til- 
 chester Yeomanry may volunteer at last to go 
 out, and was anxious to hear their views of 
 the possibility. I sat down upon a fat-pillowed 
 sofa, one of those nice kind that puff out again 
 slowly when you get up, and make you feel 
 at rest any way you sit. 
 
 A short man with a funny face came and 
 sat beside me. 
 
 "What a wonderful lady, to be so punctual!" 
 he said. " You evidently don't know the house. 
 We shall be lucky if we get dinner at nine 
 o'clock." 
 
 "Why did you come down, then," I asked, 
 "since you are acquainted with the ways?" 
 
 "On the off chance, and because a bad habit 
 of youth sticks to me, and I can't help being 
 on time," 
 
 "I am finding it absurd to have acquired 
 habits in youth; they are all being upset," I 
 said. 
 
 He had such a cheery face, in spite of being 
 so ugly, it seemed quite easy to talk to him. 
 We chatted lightly until some one called out: 
 "Billy, do ring and ask if we can have a bis- 
 cuit and a glass of sherry, to keep us up until 
 we get dinner." 
 
 At that moment it was nearly nine more 
 people strolled in, two women with their hus- 
 bands, and several odd pairs the last among 
 the single people quite the loveliest creature I 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 have ever seen. She does not know how to 
 walk, and her lips were almost magenta with 
 some stuff on them, but her eyes flashed round 
 at every one, and there seemed to be a flutter 
 among the men by the fireplace. 
 
 Augustus dropped his jaw with admiration. 
 She had on a bright purple dress and numbers 
 of jewels. I feel sure he was saying to himself 
 that she was a "stunner." She did not look 
 at all vulgar, however, only wicked and attrac- 
 tive and delightful. 
 
 "Darling Letitia," she pleaded, to a stiff-look- 
 ing old woman sitting bolt -upright under a 
 lamp, "don't glare at me so. I am not the last 
 to-night; there are still Baby kins and Mar- 
 garet and several others to come/' 
 
 "Oh, Lord, how hungry I am!" announced 
 Mr. Budge, in a loud voice. I recognized him 
 now from his picture being so often in the 
 papers. 
 
 Then, from a door at the other end, in tripped 
 Babykins, and close behind her Lord Tilches- 
 ter, and, last of all, when the clock had struck 
 nine -fifteen, and even the funny -faced man 
 next me had exhausted all his conversation, 
 the door at the north end of the salon opened, 
 and serenely, like a lovely ship, our beautiful 
 hostess sailed towards us. 
 
 "So sorry to be a little late," she said, calmly. 
 " Tilchester, as you have, of course, told every one 
 whom they are to take in, we may as well start/' 
 
 92 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Lord Tilchester had been sitting in the win- 
 dow-seat with Babykins, and had completely 
 forgotten this duty, I suppose. He got up guilt- 
 ily and fumbled for a paper in his pocket. 
 
 " Oh, don't let us wait for that," said Mr. Budge, 
 gruffly. "Come, Lady Tilchester, I shall take 
 you and lead the way," and he gave her his arm. 
 
 She laughed and took it. 
 
 "Very well/' she said. 
 
 Every one scrambled for the people they want- 
 ed or knew best; and so it happened that I 
 found myself standing staring at a pale young 
 man with weak blue eyes and a wonderfully 
 well-tied tie, the last of the company. 
 
 He held out his arm nervously, and we finally 
 got to the dining-room and found two seats. 
 
 It was not until dinner was almost over that 
 I found out he was the Duke of Myrlshire, and 
 ought to have taken in Lady Tilchester. 
 
 Augustus had placed himself next the purple 
 lady, and his face grew a gray mauve with ex- 
 citement at her gracious glances. 
 
 My ducal partner was unattractive. He had a 
 squeaky voice and a nervous manner, but said 
 some entreprenant things in a way which made 
 me understand he is accustomed to be listened 
 to with patience, not to say pleasure. 
 
 He told me he was grateful to Mr. Budge for 
 his move, as he had been admiring me since 
 the moment we arrived, and had determined, 
 directly the mlee began, to secure me if possible. 
 
 93 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Er you don't look like an Englishwoman/' 
 he said, "and it is a nice change. My eye is 
 wearied with them; their outlines are all exactly 
 alike/' 
 
 He further informed me that Paris was the 
 only place to live in, and that the English as a 
 nation were crude in their vices. 
 
 "They make such a noise about everything 
 here/' he added. "One cannot do a thing that 
 it is not put the wrong way up in the halfpenny 
 papers/' 
 
 "The penalty of greatness/' I said, laughing. 
 " They don't worry at all, for instance, about what 
 I am doing." 
 
 "Then they show extremely bad taste/' he 
 said, with a look of frank admiration. 
 
 Before the women swept in a body from the 
 room, I understood that his object in life would 
 henceforth be to make me sensible of his great 
 worth and charm. All these masterful, forward 
 sentiments sounded so comic, expressing them- 
 selves in his squeaky voice, I could not help 
 smiling. He became radiant. He did not guess 
 in the least what amused me. 
 
 Although the salon is immense, the ten or 
 twelve women all crowded around the fireplace. 
 It was a damp, chilly evening. 
 
 They all seemed to know one another very 
 well, and called each other by their Christian 
 names, so until Babykins again gave me some 
 information I did not realize who people were. 
 
 94 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The purple lady is Lady Grenellen ; her hus- 
 band is at the war. She is most attractive. 
 She sat on a big sofa and smoked cigarettes 
 rapidly in a little amber holder. She must 
 have got through at least three or four of them 
 before the men came in. 
 
 Lady Tilchester and two other women were deep 
 in South - African news, the rest talked about 
 books and their clothes, but Baby kins and Letitia 
 exchanged views upon the scandal of the time. 
 
 "In my day/' Letitia said, "it sometimes 
 happened that men made love and ran away 
 with a woman because they found they liked 
 her better than anything else in the world. It 
 was a great sin, but their passion was mixed 
 with respect, and the elopement constituted the 
 wedding ceremony. Now you remain on at 
 home until you are found out, and then the hus- 
 band takes a gratuity and the matter is hushed 
 up, and probably the lover passes on to your 
 best friend, an added feather in his cap." 
 
 " Dear Lady Lambourne, how severe you are!" 
 chirped Baby kins. " And you really should not 
 use that little word ' you. ' Of course, you don't 
 mean any of us, but it sounds unkind and might 
 be misunderstood especially," she added, in a 
 whisper to me, "as that is* the exact case of 
 Cordelia Grenellen." 
 
 Letitia (Lady Lambourne) has a distinct 
 voice and decided opinions. She continued, as 
 though no interruption had taken place: 
 
 95 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " If the matter was only for love, too, I should 
 still have nothing to say; but it is so often 
 for a string of pearls, or some new carriage- 
 horses/' 
 
 "But, surely, it is more logical to have that 
 reason than no reason at all, like the case of 
 your poor cousin. I understood that was sheer 
 foolishness, and Lord Edam did not even pretend 
 to care for her/' 
 
 Lady Lambourne looked daggers and re- 
 mained speechless. "What scandalous things 
 you are all saying," laughed Lady Grenellen 
 from her sofa. "Letitia, you are sitting there 
 and being epigrammatic, just like the people in 
 those unreal society plays they had last year. 
 We are all perfectly contented and happy if you 
 would let us alone." 
 
 "One cannot but deplore the change/' said 
 Lady Lambourne. 
 
 "Personally, I am delighted with everything 
 as it is," cooed Baby kins. "Life must be much 
 pleasanter now than in your day, dear Lady 
 Lambourne; such a fuss and pretending, and 
 such hypocrites you must all have been as, of 
 course, human nature was the same then, and 
 since the beginning of time. We have always 
 eaten and drank too rich food and wine in our 
 class and have not had enough to do, so we 
 can't help being as we are, can we?" 
 
 "Baby kins, you silly darling, as if what we 
 eat makes any difference!" said Lady Grenellen, 
 
 96 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 puffing her cigarette -smoke into cloudy rings 
 in the neatest way. 
 
 " Of course it does, Cordelia ! Food makes all 
 the difference, you know. I have kept those white 
 pigs for four years and I know all about it." 
 
 Babykins has the most pathetic blue eyes, and 
 her childish voice is arresting. Lady Grenellen 
 went into a fit of laughter. 
 
 "You are perfectly mad about those horrid 
 pigs!" she told her. 
 
 Lady Lambourne interrupted again, in a dig- 
 nified voice. " Human nature was not the same 
 in my day as you call it Mrs. Parton-Mills " 
 (thus she discovered to me Babykins' name). 
 "We lived much more simply, and enjoyed our 
 pleasures and did our duties, and stayed at home 
 
 more/' 
 
 "And I expect you were frightfully bored, 
 Letitia, darling," said Lady Grenellen, "and 
 that is why you never stay at home now." 
 
 It seemed to me quite wonderful how they 
 could be so disrespectful to this elderly lady, 
 but she did not seem at all offended. 
 
 "You are incorrigible, Cordelia," was all she 
 said, and she laughed. 
 
 "You had no bridge, and it must have been 
 exactly like it still is when I stay with Edward's 
 relations in Scotland," Babykins continued. 
 "As we arrive there I feel 'goose-flesh' on my 
 arms, with the stiffness and decorum of every- 
 thing. We chat about the weather at tea, and 
 7 97 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 no one ever says a word they really think; and 
 we play idiotic, childish games of cards for love 
 in the evening; and it is all feeble and weari- 
 some, and the guests are always looking at the 
 clock." 
 
 Lady Tilchester came and joined us; it seemed 
 like a breath of fresh sunlight illuminating the 
 scene. 
 
 "You appear all to be talking scandal/' she 
 said. 
 
 Imperceptibly the conversation changed, and 
 we were discussing the war news when the 
 double doors of the dining-room opened. 
 
 Augustus looked very flushed in the face and 
 unattractive as he came towards us, but Lady 
 Grenellen moved her skirts and made room for 
 him on her sofa. She smiled at him divinely, 
 and was perfectly lovely to him as friendly 
 and caressing as if he were an equal. It per- 
 fectly astonished me. I could not talk and joke 
 familiarly like that with Augustus any more 
 than if he were one of the footmen. And she 
 is a viscountess, and must at least know what 
 a gentleman is. 
 
 Half the party moved off to play bridge in 
 one of the drawing-rooms; the rest arranged 
 themselves comfortably, two and two. Lady 
 Tilchester and Mr. Budge wandered into the 
 music-room, and I, who had not stirred, found 
 myself almost alone by the fireplace with the 
 Duke. 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 He proceeded to say a number of things to 
 me that astonished me greatly. I should not 
 have understood them all had I not been to those 
 plays in Paris. 
 
 I suppose he was beginning to make love 
 to me if this is what is called making love. 
 His personality is not attractive, so it did not 
 touch me at all, and I am only able to look upon 
 men now through eyes which see coarse brutes. 
 Perhaps they may be really nice, some of them, 
 but as I look at them one after another, the 
 thought always comes, how revolting could they 
 appear in the eyes of their wives? This is not 
 nice of me, and I am sure grandmamma would 
 reprove me for it. 
 
Ill 
 
 NEXT day, Sunday, some of us went to church. 
 Augustus insisted upon my going. He thought 
 it would be a good opportunity of showing I was 
 in Lady Tilchester's company, although what it 
 could have mattered to the Harley villagers I do 
 not know. 
 
 He himself stayed behind with Lady Gren- 
 ellen, he said, to take her for a walk in the woods. 
 
 After lunch every one seemed to play bridge 
 but Lady Tilchester and I and her politician 
 and the weak-eyed Duke. We climbed the hill 
 to the ruins of the old castle and there sat until 
 tea-time. 
 
 "Isn't it a bore for me that I shall have to 
 marry an heiress?" the Duke said, pathetically. 
 "Marriage is the most tiresome ennui at any 
 time, but to be forced through sheer beggary 
 to take some ugly woman you don't like and 
 don't want is cruel hard luck, is it not?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, feelingly. 
 
 He was melted by the sympathy in my voice. 
 
 "You are a delicious woman; you seem to 
 understand one directly. People have got into 
 the way of thinking it is no hardship to have 
 
 100 
 
THE REFLECTIONS, OF 
 
 to do these things for the sake of one's title, but 
 I can see you are sympathetic/' 
 
 "Yes, indeed!" I said. 
 
 "Cordelia Grenellen is arranging it for me. 
 I have not seen her yet I mean the heiress/' 
 
 "If I were a man I think I should keep my 
 freedom and and work/' I faltered. 
 
 He looked at me, perfectly astonished. 
 
 "But what can I do?" he asked. "Only go 
 into the city, and that is quite played out now. 
 I have no head for business, and it would seem 
 to me to be rather mean just to trade upon my 
 name to get unsuspecting people to take shares 
 in concerns; whereas if I marry an heiress it is 
 a square game I at least give her some return 
 for her money/' 
 
 "There is a great deal in what you say," I 
 agreed. 
 
 " I told Cordelia she is a cousin of mine, you 
 know I told her I would not have a very ugly 
 one, and I should prefer that she should be a 
 good, healthy brewer's daughter. Our family 
 is over- well bred. You see, if you are going to 
 sacrifice yourself to keep up your name, you 
 may as well choose some one that will be of some 
 ultimate use to it. Now we want a strain of 
 thick red blood in our veins; ours is a great 
 deal too blue. We are becoming reedy shaped, 
 and more or less idiotic." 
 
 He said all this quite gravely. He had evi- 
 dently studied the subject, and as I Iooke4 at 
 
 101 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 him I felt he was perfectly right. If he represent- 
 ed the type of his race, it had certainly grown 
 effete. 
 
 "I won't have an American/' he continued. 
 "They are intellectual companions before mar- 
 riage, and they are generally so agreeable you 
 don't notice how nervous and restless they are 
 really, but I would not contemplate one as a 
 wife. 1 must have a solid English cow- woman." 
 
 He stretched himself by my side and began 
 pulling a bit of grass to pieces. His hands 
 look transparent, and he has the most beautifully 
 shaped filbert nails; his ears, on the contrary, 
 are not perfect, but stick out like a monkey's. 
 
 " You see, I should always live my own life," 
 he went on, lazily. "I worship the beautiful. 
 The pagans' highest expression of beauty which 
 moved the world was in sculpture cold and 
 pure marble of divine form. That awakened 
 their emotions; one reads they had a number 
 of emotions. The Renaissance people, to take 
 a medium time, expressed themselves by paint- 
 ing glorious colors on flat canvas ; they also had 
 emotions. Those two arts now are more or less 
 dead. At any rate, they have ceased to influ- 
 ence masses of people. Our great expression is 
 music. We are moved by music. It gives us 
 emotions en bloc all of us some by the tune 
 of 'Tommy Atkins/ and others by Wagner. 
 Well, all these three sculpture, painting, and 
 music give me pleasure, but I should not want 
 
 102 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 my cow duchess to understand any of them. I 
 should want her to have numbers of chubby 
 children and to fulfil her social duties, and never 
 have to go into a rest-cure, or have a longing 
 for sympathy/' 
 
 I said a few "yeses" and "reallys" during 
 this long speech, and he continued, like a mill 
 grinding coffee: 
 
 " It don't do to over-breed. You are bound to 
 turn out some toques if not altogether idiotic, and 
 then my sense of beauty is outraged by the 
 freaks that happen in our shapes you should 
 see my two sisters, the plainest women in Eng- 
 land. Now you give me joy to look at. You 
 are quite beautiful, you know. I never saw 
 any one with a nose as straight and finely cut 
 as yours. Why do you keep putting your par- 
 asol so that I cannot see it?" 
 
 " One uses a parasol to keep off the sun, which 
 is hot. Would you wish me to get a sunstroke to 
 oblige you?" And I put down my parasol still 
 lower. 
 
 "You are selfish!" in an aggrieved voice. 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "And not the least ashamed of it!" 
 
 "Not the least." 
 
 He moved his position deliberately so that 
 he came to my other side, where the sun was 
 not. 
 
 "I learned a certain amount of manoeuvring 
 in South Africa, where I went for a morrth or 
 
 103 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 two," he said. "I hope this side of your face 
 will be as pretty. People always have a better 
 and a worse side/' 
 
 I laughed. It was too hot to circumvent him 
 again, and his looking at me could not hurt 
 me. 
 
 "This side is even prettier/' he said, presently. 
 " Where did you hide yourself, that we none of 
 us ever saw you before you married?" 
 
 " I lived rather near here for a little while/' 
 
 "Now you look sad again. I never watched 
 any one's face so much. Yours is not like other 
 people's; you look like a cameo, you know." 
 
 " Tell me about the people here, ' ' I said. " They 
 are all strangers to me." 
 
 "But I would much rather talk about you." 
 
 "That does not interest me; you said I was 
 selfish, so you do what I wish." 
 
 " What can I tell you of them? They are like 
 all companies dull and amusing, mixed. They 
 are a fair specimen of most people one meets 
 in the monde ou I' on s' amuse. My cousin Lady 
 Grenellen is perhaps the most interesting among 
 them, as she has had the most histories." 
 
 "Histories?" 
 
 "Yes; her career has been one of riding for 
 a series of falls, and escaping even a peck." 
 
 "She is very lovely." 
 
 "Oh yes, Cordelia is good-looking enough," 
 he said, as though there was considerably more 
 to add. 
 
 104 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I did not continue the subject further. We 
 talked of books, the war, and various other things, 
 and by-and-by our hostess called to us from the 
 higher level of the old drawbridge where she was 
 sitting. 
 
 "We must be descending for some tea/' she 
 said, and started on with her politician. 
 
 When we got back, Augustus was swinging 
 Lady Grenellen in a lovely Louis XV. balangoire, 
 fixed up between two elm-trees ; she put one foot 
 out, and looked so lovely and radiant! 
 
 Augustus had the expression of one of those 
 negro pages Thackeray drew in The Virginians 
 a mixture of pride and self-complacency as 
 he held the red silk ropes. 
 
 Tea was so merry! No one was witty like 
 grandmamma and the Marquis, but every one 
 was in a good temper and it was gay. 
 
 The party was rather more punctual at din- 
 ner on Sunday night, and Lady Tilchester 
 had arranged, as she meant to the night be- 
 fore, that I should sit next her politician. Mr. 
 Budge and Mrs. Gurrage the names went well 
 together ! 
 
 I do not know anything about politics, but 
 he is what I suppose must be a Radical, as he 
 preaches home rule for Ireland, and equal rights 
 for all mankind, and an apologetic tone to other 
 nations, and a general dividing up of all one's 
 biens. But they say he has a splendid house 
 in Grosvenor Square, and a flat in Paris,, and 
 
 105 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 never asks any but the smartest titled people to 
 his big pheasant shoot in Suffolk. 
 
 He was delightful at dinner, anyway, and 
 made me laugh. His voice is clear, with just 
 the faintest touch of Irish in it. And he sparred 
 with Lady Tilchester across me. 
 
 She is the greatest grande dame one could 
 meet, and a Tory to the backbone in politics, 
 but her manner to the servants is not nearly 
 so haughty as Mr. Budge's. 
 
 I do not like his hands; I cannot say why; 
 they are neither big nor ill-shapen, but there 
 is something fat and feminine about the fin- 
 gers. I dare say, underneath, he could be like 
 Augustus. 
 
 Lady Tilchester is devoted to him, and he 
 has the greatest admiration and respect for her. 
 Their conversation is most interesting. 
 
 Some of the other men are very nice, and 
 several of them almost come up to grandmam- 
 ma's criterion of the perfect male that he 
 should "look like a man and behave like a 
 gentleman/' 
 
 The women are very smartly dressed all the 
 time, but they do not show a great sense of the 
 fitness of things. Only Lady Grenellen and 
 Lady Tilchester are always adorable and at- 
 tractive in anything and in any way. 
 
 I believe they do not love one another very 
 much, although they are quite friendly; one 
 somehow can see it in their eyes. 
 
 106 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The Tilchester boy, who is thirteen, has just 
 gone to Eton, but will soon be home for the holi- 
 days; the little girl is at the sea. So I have 
 not seen either of them. 
 
 The whole house here is so beautifully done; 
 there is no fuss, and everything is exactly where 
 one wants to find it. I shall be sorry when 
 we leave. 
 
 Just as we had begun luncheon to-day, Sir 
 Antony Thornhirst came in, and, after a casual 
 greeting to every one, sat down near me. 
 
 He seems quite at home here, and as if he 
 were accustomed to turning up unannounced in 
 this way. 
 
 I felt such a queer, quick beating in my heart. 
 I suppose because among all these strangers he 
 was some one I knew before. 
 
 "So you decided not to cut the Gordian knot/' 
 he said, presently, as if we were continuing 
 the discussion of some argument we had had 
 a moment before. 
 
 He bridged in an instant the great gulf since 
 my wedding. This sang froid stupefied me. I 
 found nothing to say. 
 
 He continued: 
 
 "Do you know, I have heard since that to 
 give any one a knife cuts friendship, and brings 
 bad luck and separation, and numbers of dread- 
 ful things. So you and I are now declared 
 enemies, I suppose. Shall we go and throw 
 the little ill-omen in the lake after lunch?" 
 
 107 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "No; I will not part with my knife; I find 
 it very useful/' I said, in a bete way. 
 
 "Antony/' called out Lord Tilchester, "you 
 have arrived in the nick of time to save Baby- 
 kins from turning into a hospital nurse. She 
 thinks the costume becoming, and threatens to 
 leave us for the wounded heroes. Cannot you 
 restrain her?" 
 
 "How?" asked Sir Antony, helping himself 
 to some chicken curry. " Really excellent curry 
 your chef makes, Tilchester/' 
 
 "Don't tell him about it, Reggie," lisped 
 Mrs. Parton-Mills. "The unfeeling creature is 
 only thinking of his food." 
 
 "You seem to have all the qualities for an 
 ideal convalescent nurse," said Sir Antony, with 
 an air of detaching himself with difficulty from 
 the contemplation of the curry. 
 
 "And those qualities are ?" asked Lord 
 Tilchester. 
 
 "Principally stimulating," and he selected 
 a special chutney from the various kinds a foot- 
 man was handing. 
 
 "What do you mean?" demanded Babykins, 
 pouting. 
 
 "Exactly what you do/' and he looked at 
 her, smiling in a way I should have said was 
 insolent had it been I who was concerned. 
 
 "But I want to go and help the poor dear 
 fellows, and to cheer them and make their time 
 pleasanter." 
 
 108 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I said you would be an ideal convalescent 
 nurse. But what would become of the pigs?" 
 
 "Oh, Edward could look after them. I think 
 too little attention has been paid to the poor 
 boys who are getting well. I could read to 
 them and write their letters home for them," 
 and she looked pathetically sympathetic. 
 
 "Hubble-bubble, toil and trouble," quoted Sir 
 Antony. 
 
 "Who for?" laughed Lord Tilchester, in his 
 rough, gruff way. 
 
 " The recipients of the letters, who would cer- 
 tainly receive them in the wrong envelopes," 
 said Sir Antony. "I think, Tilchester, you 
 had better persuade Babykins to stay in Eng- 
 land, for the sake of the peace of many respect- 
 able and innocent families." 
 
 "How wicked you are to me," flashed Baby- 
 kins. 
 
 "Just what you deserve," chuckled Lord 
 Tilchester. 
 
 "What tiresome nonsense these people talk," 
 said Sir Antony, calmly, to me. "You and I 
 were in the middle of an interesting problem 
 discussion, were we not? And now I have lost 
 the thread." 
 
 "It does not in the least matter," I said. 
 
 The Duke, who was on the other side of me, 
 did not care to be left out, and persistently talked 
 to me for the rest of lunch. 
 
 Sir Antony consumed his with the apprecia- 
 109 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 tion of a connoisseur. It appeared to be the 
 only thing which interested him. 
 
 Babykins, from the other side, did her ut- 
 most to engage him in a war of wits, but he 
 remained calm, with the air of a placid lion. 
 
 When we got outside in the great tent he came 
 up to me. 
 
 "I am going to take you for a walk/' he said 
 "a nice, cool walk in the woods. Will you 
 get your parasol?" 
 
 The Duke was at that moment fetching it for 
 me from the hall table, where I had left it. 
 
 "I do not know what we shall do to-day/' 
 I said. "I believe I am going to play cro- 
 quet/' 
 
 " Oh no, you are not. It is much too hot, and 
 you must see the woods. They are historical, 
 and Here, take this parasol and let us start." 
 This last hurriedly, as the Duke was seen re- 
 turning with mine. 
 
 I cannot say why I allowed myself to be 
 dragged off like this. My natural impulse has 
 always been to do the opposite thing when or- 
 dered by any one but grandmamma. But here 
 I found myself walking meekly beside my kins- 
 man down a yew-bordered path, holding a mauve 
 silk parasol over my head which did not be- 
 long to me. 
 
 We did not speak until we got quite to the 
 end, where there is a quaint fountain, the cen- 
 tre of four allies of clipped yews. 
 
 no 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 My heart still continued to beat in a quick, 
 tiresome manner. 
 
 "You look changed, Comtesse," Sir Antony 
 said. "Your little face is pale. Do you re- 
 member the night we danced together? It was 
 round and rosy then. Is it a hundred years 
 ago?" 
 
 There is a something in his voice which is 
 alluring. The mocking sound goes out of it now 
 and then, and when it does one feels as if one 
 must listen. Oh, but listen with both one's ears ! 
 
 "Yes, it is a hundred years ago/' I said. 
 
 "I was so sorry to hear of your grandmoth- 
 er's death/' he continued. "I wanted to tell 
 you how I felt for you, but I was away in Nor- 
 way, and have only just returned. Did you 
 think I was unkind?" 
 
 "No, I never thought at all. Grandmamma 
 was glad to die. I knew she could not live, but 
 it came suddenly at the end." 
 
 "What a splendid personality! How I wish 
 I had seen more of her! I generally manage 
 to seize the occasion, but fate kept you and her 
 beyond my reach. Why did we not all meet 
 this time last year?" 
 
 " Oh, do not talk of that !" I cried. I felt I could 
 not bear to hear any more. "I am trying to 
 forget, and to find life full of compensations. 
 Grandmamma and the Marquis promised me 
 that I should." 
 
 He looked at me, stopped in the path, and 
 in 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 bent down to a level with my face. His eyes 
 seemed as if they could see right through my 
 mind then, as on another occasion in our lives. 
 
 "Dear little white Comtesse!" he said. Al- 
 most the same words. 
 
 An emotion that is new to me happened. It 
 was as if my heart beat in my throat. 
 
 "We are dawdling by this fountain/' I said. 
 "Where are the woods?" 
 
 After that we were gay. He told me of many 
 things. I seemed to see a clear picture of the 
 world as he talked a light and pleasant world, 
 where no one was so foolish as to care for any- 
 thing seriously. 
 
 One felt a donkey, to worry or grieve when 
 the sun shone and the birds sang! 
 
 How I enjoyed myself! 
 
 "Has Babykins chirped at you yet?" he ask- 
 ed, presently. " She is very dangerous when she 
 chirps." 
 
 "I do not like her," I said. 
 
 "Oh, you will presently. We all love Baby- 
 kins. She acts as a sort of moral mosquito in 
 a big party. She flies around stinging every 
 one, and then we compare our bites and tear 
 and scratch the irritated places together. You 
 will meet her everywhere she is the only per- 
 son Tilchester takes a serious interest in." 
 
 "Are you staying here," I asked, "or did 
 you only drive over?" 
 
 "I sent for my servant to bring my things, 
 112 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 and I shall stay now I find you. You always 
 seem to forget we are cousins, and that people 
 ought to take an interest in their relations!" 
 
 "Tell me about your house Dane Mount it 
 is -called, is it not?" I asked, presently. We 
 had been silent for a moment, walking down a 
 shady path, great pine-trees on each side. 
 
 " No, I won't tell you about it ; you must come 
 over there some day and stop with me for a night 
 or so. You ought to see the home of your an- 
 cestors, you know. Promise me you will when 
 I come back from Scotland!" 
 
 We had gone deep into the wood by now. It 
 was quite dusky. The thick trees met over- 
 head, and only an occasional sunbeam pene- 
 trated through. 
 
 I felt stupid. The words did not come so 
 easily as when I am with the Duke. 
 
 "How silent you are, Comtesse!" 
 
 "Is it not time to go back?" I said, stupidly. 
 
 "No, not nearly time. I want you to tell me 
 all about yourself where you lived, and all that 
 happened until you flashed into my life at the 
 Tilchester ball. See, we will sit down on this log 
 of wood and be quite comfortable." 
 
 We sat down. 
 
 "Now begin, Comtesse: 'Once upon a time, 
 when I was a little girl, I came from where?" 
 
 "Do you really want to hear the family his- 
 tory?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 8 113 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I told him an outline of things and how grand- 
 mamma and I had lived at the cottage, and of 
 all her wise sayings, and about the Marquis 
 and Roy and Hephzibah, and the simple things 
 of my long-ago past. It seemed as if I was 
 speaking of some other person, so changed has 
 all my outlook on life and things become since 
 I went to Paris with Augustus. 
 
 "And now we come to the day we met in the 
 lane/' he said. "You were not even engaged 
 then, were you?" 
 
 "Oh no! Grandmamma had never had a 
 fainting-fit; she would have found the idea too 
 dreadful at that time." I stopped suddenly, 
 realizing what I had said. I could not tell him 
 how and why I had married Augustus ; he must 
 think what he pleased. 
 
 He evidently thought a good deal, by the look 
 in his eyes. I wish I wish when he looks it 
 did not make my heart beat so; it is foolish and 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 " What a fool I was not to come with the auto- 
 mobile the night before your wedding and carry 
 you off to Gretna Green/' he said, in a voice that 
 might have been mocking or serious, I could not 
 tell which. 
 
 "Tell me, Comtesse, if I had tapped at your 
 window, would you have looked out and come 
 with me?" 
 
 "There was a bad thunder-storm, if I recol- 
 lect. We should have got wet/' I laughed, in a 
 
 114 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 hollow way. He could not know how he was 
 hurting me; he should not see, at all events. 
 
 "You would have been very dear to take to 
 Gretna Green/' he continued. "I should have 
 loved to watch your wise, sweet eyes changing 
 all expressions as morning dawned and you 
 found yourself away from them all away from 
 Augustus." 
 
 I did not answer. I drew hieroglyphics with 
 the point of the mauve parasol in the soft moss 
 beneath our feet. 
 
 "Why don't you speak, Comtesse?" 
 
 " There is nothing to say I am married and 
 you did not tap at the window and let us go 
 back to the house." 
 
IV 
 
 THE last evening at Harley is one of the things 
 I shall not want to recall. Augustus got drunk 
 yes, it is almost too dreadful to write even. 
 I had not realized up to this that gentlemen (of 
 course I do not mean that word literally, as ap- 
 plied to Augustus, but I mean people with money 
 and a respectable position) I never realized that 
 they got drunk. I thought it was only common 
 men in the street. 
 
 It struck me he was making a great noise at 
 dinner, but as he was sitting on the same side 
 of the table as I was I could not see. When the 
 men joined us afterwards it came upon me as a 
 thunder-clap. His face was a deep heliotrope, 
 and he walked unsteadily not really lurching 
 about, but rather as if the furniture was in the 
 way. 
 
 One or two of the men seemed very much 
 amused, especially when he went and pushed 
 himself into the sofa where Lady Grenellen was 
 sitting and threw his arm along the back behind 
 her head. I felt frozen. I could not have risen 
 from my chair for a few moments. She, how- 
 ever, did not seem to mind at all; she merely 
 
 116 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 laughed continuously behind her fan, the men 
 helping her to ridicule Augustus. 
 
 For me it was an hour of deep humiliation. 
 It required all my self-control to go on talking 
 to Babykins as if nothing had happened. 
 
 The Duke came over and joined us. He drew 
 a low chair and sat down so that I could not 
 see the hilarious sofa-party. 
 
 I have not the least idea what he said or what 
 any of us said. The guffaws of laughter in Au- 
 gustus's thick voice was all I was conscious of. 
 
 Sir Antony Thornhirst, who had stopped to 
 speak to Lady Tilchester by the billiard-room 
 door, now came over to us. He stood by me for 
 a moment, then crossed to Lady Grenellen. 
 
 "They are wanting you to play bridge in the 
 blue drawing-room/' he said. 
 
 She rose quite reluctantly, still overcome with 
 mirth. Augustus tried to get up, too, but stum- 
 bled back into the sofa. 
 
 Then, with infinite tact, my kinsman attracted 
 his attention, said some thrilling thing about 
 the war, and, as Lady Grenellen moved off and 
 Augustus made another ineffectual attempt to 
 rise and follow her, Sir Antony sat down in her 
 vacant place and for half an hour conversed 
 with my husband. Oh, I force myself to write 
 the words "my husband/' It is to keep the hid- 
 eous fact in remembrance, otherwise I might let 
 myself express aloud the loathing and contempt 
 I feel for him. 
 
 "7 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Sir Antony had never before taken the least 
 notice of him beyond the most casual polite- 
 ness, and now, from the scraps of conversation 
 that my preternaturally sharpened ears could 
 catch, he seemed to be trying his best to inter- 
 est and retain Augustus beside him. Gradually 
 the whole company dispersed into the different 
 drawing-rooms as usual, and I followed the rest 
 to look at the bridge. 
 
 As I was passing the sofa where the two men 
 were sitting, Augustus seized hold of my dress. 
 
 "Don't look so damned haughty, little wom- 
 an/' he hiccoughed. "Er I'm all right give 
 me a kiss " 
 
 "As I was going to tell you/' interrupted Sir 
 Antony, "I heard for a fact that the rest of the 
 Tilchester Yeomanry that have escaped so long 
 are going to volunteer to go out, after all." 
 
 Augustus dropped my dress. His face got 
 paler. This information seemed to sober him 
 for an instant, and in that blessed interval 
 I got away and into the blue drawing-room. 
 Lady Tilchester was not playing bridge, and 
 she sat down in the window -seat beside me. 
 It was a lovely night, and the windows were 
 wide open. 
 
 She is the most delightful companion. I am 
 beginning to know her a little and to realize 
 how much there is to know. 
 
 To-night she was more than usually fasci- 
 nating. It seemed as if she wished to make 
 
 118 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 me forget everything but the pleasure in our 
 conversation. She has a vast knowledge of 
 books, and has even read all the French classics 
 that grandmamma loved. We talked of many 
 things, and, among them, gardens. She told 
 me that I must make a new garden at Ledstone, 
 and I would find it an immense interest; and 
 she spoke so kindly of Mrs. Gurrage, and said 
 how charitable she was and good-hearted, and 
 then delicately, and as if it had no bearing upon 
 the Gurrage case, hinted that in these days 
 money was the only thing needed to make an 
 agreeable society for one's self, and that in the 
 future I must have plenty of amusement. 
 
 Insensibly my heart became lightened. 
 
 She talked to me of grandmamma, too, and 
 drew me into telling her things about our past. 
 She was interested in grandmamma's strange 
 bringing-up of me, so different, she said, to the 
 English girls of the present day. 
 
 "And is it that, I wonder, which has turned 
 you into almost as great a cynic as Antony 
 Thornhirst? He is the greatest I know." 
 
 "But can one be a cynic if one has so kind 
 a heart?" I asked. 
 
 She looked at me quickly with a strange look. 
 
 "How have you discovered that so soon? 
 Most people would not credit him with having 
 any heart at ail," she said. "You know with 
 all his immense prestige and popularity peo- 
 ple are a little afraid of him. I think one would 
 
 119 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 sum up the impression of Antony as a man 
 who never in all his life has been, or will be, 
 called 'Tony." 
 
 Her voice was retrospecting. 
 
 "You have known him very long?" I ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 " Ever since I married, fourteen years ago. I 
 remember I saw him first at my wedding. He 
 and Tilchester had, of course, been old friends, 
 always living so near each other. We are ex- 
 actly the same age thirty-four, both of us. 
 Growing old, you see!" She laughed softly, 
 then she continued: 
 
 "Antony was never like other men exactly. 
 He is original, and extraordinarily well read 
 only casually one would never guess it. He 
 wastes his life rather, though. I wish he would 
 go into Parliament. He has a habit of rush- 
 ing off on long travels. Some years ago he 
 went off suddenly and was away for ages and 
 ages about five years, I think. Then he stay- 
 ed at Dane Mount for a while, and then, when 
 the war first began, he went out there, and has 
 only been home a year." 
 
 "He never speaks of himself nor what he 
 does, I notice." 
 
 "No; that is just his charm. I should like 
 you to see Dane Mount. It is far nicer than 
 this, and he has wonderful taste. It is the most 
 comfortable house I know. He has delightful 
 parties there when the shooting begins." 
 
 120 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " It would interest me to see it, because grand- 
 papa came from there/' I said. 
 
 "Of course, you are cousins, in a way. You 
 don't know how interested Antony was in you 
 that night after the Tilchester Yeomanry ball. 
 He came and sat in my sitting-room and talked 
 to me about you, and then it was he put two 
 and two together and discovered you were re- 
 lated. I had heard that evening about your 
 grandmother and you living at the cottage, and 
 was able to give him some information. I don't 
 think he realized when you met that you were 
 connected, did he?" 
 
 "No, not at all." 
 
 "A friend of mine and I were sitting by the 
 fire, having said good -night to the rest of the 
 party do you remember what a cold May night 
 it was? Antony came in and joined us. We 
 all had admired you so. I recollect this is one 
 of the things he said : ' I met an eighteenth-cen- 
 tury marquise to-night." 
 
 " Yes, he called me that." 
 
 " He is so very hard to please. The ordinary 
 women, like Babykins and Cordelia Grenellen, 
 don't understand his subtle wit. They are gen- 
 erally in love with him, though. Cordelia was 
 madly Uprise last autumn; but he is as indif- 
 ferent as possible, and does not trouble him- 
 self about any of them. He is reported to have 
 said once that it had taken him five years to 
 degrade himself sufficiently to be able to en- 
 
 121 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 joy the society of modern women. He is a won- 
 derful cynic!" 
 
 "The Duke gave me to understand that no 
 man of the world was ever without some af- 
 fair/' I said. 
 
 "Well, I suppose it is true more or less, but 
 Antony is always the person who holds the 
 cheek, hardly even complacently generally 
 with perfect indifference. I have never known 
 him, for years, put himself out an inch for any 
 
 woman/' 
 
 I don't know why, but this conversation inter- 
 ested me deeply. 
 
 Just then some one came and joined us at 
 the window, and Lady Tilchester had to rise 
 and talk with her other guests ; but before she 
 moved off she put her hand on my arm and 
 said, as if she had only then remembered it : 
 
 "Oh, the housekeeper let me know just now 
 that some soot had fallen in your chimney. 
 I do hope you won't mind sleeping in a tiny 
 bedroom off mine, just for to-night. We were 
 so afraid the smell would keep you awake. 
 Your maid has moved your things." 
 
 Dear and kind lady ! I will never forget your 
 goodness to me nor cease to love you. 
 
 It was pouring rain as we drove home next day. 
 
 Augustus and I only met as we were ready 
 to get into the carriage. I had breakfasted in 
 my room. 
 
 122 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 His face was the color of putty, and he had 
 that look in his eyes which, I remember, long 
 ago I used to say appeared as if he had not had 
 enough sleep. His expression was sulky and mo- 
 rose, and I was thankful when at last we started. 
 
 The guests were catching all sorts of trains. 
 There were casual good-byes. Lady Tilchester 
 was not down, and no one occupied themselves 
 much with any one. 
 
 Lady Grenellen left just before us. She did 
 not take the least notice of me, but she talked 
 in a caressing way to Augustus, and I heard 
 him say: 
 
 "Now, you won't forget! It is a bargain!" 
 in the most empress^ voice, as he pulled his head 
 out of the carriage-window. 
 
 For the first mile or two of our journey nei- 
 ther of us spoke. Augustus lit a cigarette and 
 smoked in a nervous way, and kept opening and 
 shutting the window. 
 
 Then he swore at me. I will not say the words 
 he used, but the sentence ended with a demand 
 why I sat there looking like a " stuck pig/' 
 
 I told him quietly that if he spoke to me like 
 that I would not reply at all. 
 
 He got very angry and said he would have 
 none of that nonsense; that I seemed to forget 
 that I was his wife, and that he could do as he 
 pleased with me. 
 
 " No, you cannot," I said. " I will not be spo- 
 ken to like that." 
 
 123 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " You'll be spoken to just as I jolly well please," 
 was his refined reply. " Sitting there like a white 
 wax -doll, and giving yourself the airs of a 
 duchess!" 
 
 I did not answer. 
 
 "A deaf and dumb doll, too/' he said, with 
 an oath. 
 
 He then asked where I had been all night, 
 and what I had meant by daring to stay away 
 from him. 
 
 I remained perfectly silent, which, I fear, was 
 infinitely provoking, but I could not stoop to 
 bandy words with him. 
 
 He began to bluster, and loaded me with every 
 coarse abuse and a tremendous justification of 
 himself and his behavior of the night before. 
 I had not mentioned the subject or accused him 
 of anything, but he assured me he had not been 
 the least drunk and that my haughtiness was 
 enough to drive any man mad. 
 
 When at least ten minutes of this torrent 
 had spent itself a little, I said the whole sub- 
 ject was so disagreeable to me and discreditable 
 to him that he had better not talk of it and I 
 would try and forget it. 
 
 Grandmamma often told me how her grand- 
 father, the husband of Ambrosine Eustasie, 
 had refused to fight with a man of low birth 
 who had insulted him, but had sent one of 
 his valets to throw the creature into the street, 
 because in those days a gentleman only crossed 
 
 124 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 swords with his equals. I now understood his 
 feelings. I could not quarrel with Augustus, the 
 whole situation was so impossible. 
 
 I tried to tell myself that it did not in the least 
 matter what he said and did. Then, as he con- 
 tinued abusing me, I repeated a bit of B6ranger 
 to myself, and so grew unconscious, at last, of 
 the words he was saying. 
 
 Silence came eventually, and then, after a 
 while, in quite a humble voice, Augustus said : 
 
 "I say, little woman er you won't tell the 
 mater er will you?" 
 
 Something touched me in his face his com- 
 mon, unpleasant face. The bluster was gone and 
 there was a piteousness in it. I felt a slight 
 lump in my throat. 
 
 "Oh no; do not fear/' I said. 
 
 Then he called me an angel and kissed me 
 many times, and that was the worst of all. 
 
 Oh! When the year is up, will the "monot- 
 onous complacency" have set in? 
 
THE days are flying 1 by. October has almost 
 come, and the damp and the falling leaves. It 
 will soon be time for Mrs. Gurrage to depart for 
 Bournemouth. 
 
 Augustus is in a continual ferment, as the 
 report that the rest of the Tilchester Yeomanry 
 are going to volunteer for active service has 
 cropped up frequently, and, while he likes the 
 uniform and what he considers the prestige of 
 belonging to such a corps, he has no ardor for 
 using his weapons against the Boers. 
 
 I have tried very hard to take an interest in 
 the matter, but the numbness has returned. 
 The oppression of the surroundings at Ledstone 
 cramps my spirit. 
 
 We have had several " parties " batches of 
 Gurrage relations one or two really awful peo- 
 ple. And some days ago I was bidden to write and 
 invite the guests for the first big partridge drive. 
 
 "The mater will be gone to Bournemouth/' 
 Augustus said, "and you'll have to stand on 
 your own legs/' 
 
 Matrimony has not cured him of his habit of 
 using horrid phrases. 
 
 126 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 He has often been very rude to me lately, and 
 has taken to going more frequently to town for 
 the day, and stays away for a night or two some- 
 times. 
 
 These seem to me as holidays, and I have 
 never thought of asking him where he has been, 
 although he comes back with an apologetic air 
 of a guilty school-boy which ought to excite my 
 jealousy, I feel sure. 
 
 During these absences his mother looks un- 
 easy and has once or twice asked me if 1 know 
 where he is. 
 
 My books have come quantities of books ! 
 and I spend hours in my boudoir, never lifting 
 my eyes from the pages to be distracted by the 
 glaring, mustard-brocade walls around me. 
 
 Mrs. Gurrage treats me with respect. There 
 is a gradual but complete change in her man- 
 ner to me, from what cause I do not know. I 
 am invariably polite to her and consider all her 
 wishes, and she often tells me she is very proud 
 of me ; but all trace of the familiarity she exercised 
 towards me in the beginning has disappeared. 
 
 I am sorry for her, as she is deeply anxious, 
 also, about this question of the Yeomanry going 
 to the war. 
 
 Augustus is still her idol. 
 
 Perhaps I am wicked to be so indifferent to 
 them all. Perhaps it is not enough just to sub- 
 mit and to have gentle manners. I ought to 
 display interest; but I cannot oh, I cannot. 
 
 127 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 It is the very small things that jar upon me 
 their sordid views upon no matter what ques- 
 tion the importance they attach to trifles. 
 
 Sometimes in the afternoons, after tea, Amelia 
 reads the Family Herald to Mrs. Gurrage. 
 
 "A comfort it was to me in my young days, 
 my dear/' she often tells me. 
 
 The delinquencies of the house-maids are dis- 
 cussed at dinner, the smallest piece of gossip in 
 Tilchester society. 
 
 I cannot, try as I will, remember the people's 
 different names, or whom Miss Jones is engaged 
 to, or whom Miss Brown. Quantities of these 
 people come out to tea, and those afternoons are 
 difficult to bear. I feel very tired when evening 
 comes, after having had to sit there and hear 
 them talk. Their very phraseology is as of a 
 different world. 
 
 Augustus has not been drunk since the night 
 at Harley, but often I think his eyes look as 
 if he had had too much to drink, and it is on 
 these occasions he is rude to me. 
 
 I believe in his heart he is very fond of me 
 still, but his habit of bullying and blustering 
 often conceals it. 
 
 He continually accuses me of being a cold 
 statue, and regrets that he has married a lump 
 of ice. And when I ask him in what way I could 
 please him better, he says I must love him. 
 
 "I told you before we were married that I 
 never should, but I would be civil to you/' I 
 
 128 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 said to him at last, exasperated beyond all en- 
 durance. "You agreed to the bargain, and I 
 do my best to keep it. I never disobey you or 
 cross you in a single thing,, What have you to 
 complain of?" 
 
 "Everything!" he said, in a fury, thumping 
 the table so hard that a little Dresden - china 
 figure fell down and broke into pieces on the 
 parquet floor. "Everything! Your great eyes 
 are always sad. You never take the least in- 
 terest in anything about any of us. You are 
 docile yes ; and obedient yes ; and when I hold 
 you in my arms I might be holding a stuffed 
 doll for all the response you make. And when 
 I kiss you, you shudder!" 
 
 He walked up and down the room excitedly. 
 
 "Oh, we have all noticed it!" he continued. 
 " You are polite, and quiet, and and damned 
 cold! Does Amelia ever let herself go before 
 you? Never! The mater herself feels it. You 
 are as different to any of us as if you came 
 from Mars!" 
 
 "But you knew that always. You used to 
 tell me that was what you liked about me," 
 I said, wearily. "I cannot change my nature 
 any more than than Amelia can hers." 
 
 "Why not, pray?" 
 
 "Have you never thought," I said, driven 
 
 at last to defend myself, "that there may be a 
 
 side in the question for me also? I feel it as 
 
 badly as you do your all being different to me." 
 
 9 129 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 He stopped in his angry walk and looked at me. 
 This idea was one of complete newness to him. 
 
 "Well, you'd better get out of it and change, 
 for we sha'n't," he said, at last. "You owe 
 everything to me. You would have been in the 
 gutter now if I had not had the generosity to 
 marry you/' 
 
 I did not answer, but I suppose my eyes spoke, 
 for he came close up to me and shook his fist 
 in my face. 
 
 "I'll break that proud spirit of yours see if 
 I don't!" he roared "daring to look at me like 
 that! What good are you to me, I should like 
 to know? You do not have a child, and, of all 
 things, I want an heir!" 
 
 A low growl came from the hearth-rug, where 
 Roy had been lying, and the dear dog rose and 
 came to my side. I was afraid he would fly 
 at Augustus, shaking his fist as if he was going 
 to strike me. I put my hand on Roy's soft, 
 black head and held his collar. 
 
 In a moment Augustus turned round and 
 rushed to the door. 
 
 "I'll have that dog poisoned," he said, as he 
 fled from the room. 
 
 I took up a volume of La Rochefoucauld, 
 which was lying on the table near grand- 
 mamma's copy and I chanced to open it at this 
 maxim : 
 
 "On n'est jamais si heureux ni si malheureux 
 qu'on s' imagine." 
 
 130 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 About happiness I do not know, but for the 
 rest well, I must tell myself that to feel miser- 
 able is only foolish imagination, when I have a 
 fire, and food, and a diamond necklace, and three 
 yards of pearls, and a carriage with prune-and- 
 scarlet servants, and a boudoir with mustard- 
 silk walls, and and numbers of other things. 
 
 Roy put his nose into my hand. 
 
 "Why did we not go on the long journey 
 with grandmamma?" I said to him. And then 
 I remembered that it is ridiculous to be morbid 
 and dramatic, and so I rang for my maid a dour 
 Scotchwoman whom I like and told her to bring 
 my out-door things here to the boudoir-fire. And 
 soon Roy and I were a mile from the house. 
 
 Lady Tilchester has been in Scotland almost 
 ever since we spent our four days at Harley. 
 When she comes back I shall ask her if she will 
 come over here. She may help me to awake. 
 
 I am sure if any one could read what I have 
 written, they would say that poor Augustus had 
 a great deal to put up with in having a wife 
 like me. Probably, from his point of view, I 
 am thoroughly tiresome and irritating. I do not 
 exonerate myself. 
 
 After a brisk walk I felt better, and by lunch- 
 time was able to come back to the house and 
 behave as usual. Augustus, I found, had gone 
 to London. 
 
 Mrs. Gurrage was uneasy. She dropped her 
 131 
 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 h's once or twice, a sure sign, with her, of pertur- 
 bation and excitement. 
 
 When the servants had left the room she said 
 to Amelia: 
 
 " Quite time you were off with that basket for 
 Mary Higginson." 
 
 And Amelia took the hint meekly and got up 
 from her seat, leaving a pear unfinished. 
 
 " Shut the door, now, and don't stand loitering 
 there!" my mother-in-law further commanded. 
 
 Amelia is a poor relation, and has often to 
 put up with unfinished manners. 
 
 "Look here, my dear/' Mrs. Gurrage said, 
 when she felt sure we were alone, " I don't like 
 it and that's flat!" 
 
 "What do you not like?" I said, respectfully. 
 
 "Gussie's goings-on! If you tried to coax 
 him more he would not be forever rushin' up 
 to London to see that viscountess of his. I won- 
 der you don't show no spark of jealousy. Law! 
 I'd have scratched her eyes out had she inter- 
 fered between me and Mr. Gurrage as she is doing 
 between you two, even if she was a duchess!" 
 
 "I do not understand," I said. 
 
 "Well, you must have your eyes glued shut," 
 Mrs. Gurrage continued, emphatically. "That 
 Lad}^ Grenellen, I mean. A nice viscountess she 
 is, lookin' after other people's husbands ! Why, 
 you can't never have even glanced at the letters 
 Gussie's got from her!" 
 
 "Oh, buto/cowrsenot!" 
 132 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Well, I have. My suspicions began to be 
 aroused directly after you got back from Har- 
 ley. I caught sight of a coronet on the enve- 
 lope" (Mrs. Gurrage pronounces it "envellup"), 
 "and I said to myself, there's something queer 
 in that, Gussie never sayin' a word he as would 
 be so proud of a letter with a crown on it." 
 
 "Yes," I said. I felt sorry for her, she was 
 so agitated. All the veneer knowledge of gram- 
 mar had left her, and she spoke with a broad, 
 natural accent. 
 
 " The next one that came and never a word 
 from him made me sure so, I thought to my- 
 self, I'll make certain, and I opened the bag my- 
 self with my key for a few mornings I came 
 down early before him on purpose and soon 
 I sees another gold crown and great, sprawly 
 writin'. The kettle was singing. It took me 
 no time to get the gum unstuck, and well there! 
 My dear, you never did! I blush to think 
 of it. The hussy! She was thankin' him for 
 a diamond bracelet. Now I know my son Gus- 
 sie well enough to know he did not give her 
 that bracelet for nothing. Then she said as 
 how he might come on Tuesday to see her, as 
 she would be passin' through London and would 
 be at her town-house for the day." 
 
 "But please don't tell me it oh, one ought 
 never to read other people's letters!" I ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 Mrs. Gurrage flushed scarlet. 
 133 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " There! That's just you your high and 
 mighty sentiments! And why, pray, shouldn't 
 a mother watch over her son, even if his wife 
 has not the spirit to?" 
 
 I did not answer. 
 
 " There ! It's been so from the first. I thought 
 you'd have been proud and glad to marry my 
 Gussie you, as poor as a rat! I don't set no 
 store by our wealth the Lord's doin', and Mr. 
 Gurrage takin' advantage of the opportunities, 
 his partener dyin' youngish but I liked the 
 idea of your bein' high-born, and I was fright- 
 ened about Gussie' s lookin' at that girl at the 
 Ledstone Arms. And you seemed good and 
 quiet and well-brought-up. And Gussie just 
 doted on you. You ought to have jumped at 
 him, but you and your grandma were that 
 proud! All the time you were engaged you 
 were as haughty as if you were honorin' him, 
 instead of his honorin' you! Since you've been 
 my daughter-in-law, I have no cause to com- 
 plain of you, only it's the feelin', and your 
 settin' quiet and far away, when a flesh-and- 
 blood woman would have clawed that viscount- 
 ess's hair! Gussie'd never have been after her 
 if you'd show'd a little more affection. You're 
 not a bad-lookin' woman yourself if you wasn't 
 so white." 
 
 "Do let us understand each other," I said. 
 "I told your son from the first that I did not 
 care for him. My grandmother was old and 
 
 134 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSiNE 
 
 dying. We had no relations to depend upon. 
 I should have been left, as Augustus was un- 
 chivalrous enough to tell me this morning, 
 'in the gutter/ These reasons seemed strong 
 enough to my grandmother to make her deem 
 it expedient that I should marry some one. 
 There was no time to choose I had never dream- 
 ed in my life of disobeying her. She told me 
 to marry Augustus. This situation was fully 
 explained to him, and he understood and kept 
 us to the bargain. I have endeavored in every 
 way to fulfil my side, but in it I never contem- 
 plated a supervision of his letters." 
 
 "Oh, indeed! And why couldn't you love 
 him, pray? A finer young man doesn't live 
 for miles round," Mrs. Gurrage said, with great 
 offence. The other questions seemed in abey- 
 ance for the moment. 
 
 " We cannot force our likes and dislikes," I said. 
 
 "Well, you are married now, and part and 
 parcel of him, and a wife's duty is to keep her 
 own husband from hussies viscountesses or no 
 they can call themselves." 
 
 "What do you wish me to do?" 
 
 " Why, tax him with it when he comes home 
 to-night. Let him see you know and won't 
 stand it. It's all your fault for not lovin' him, 
 and your duty now's to keep him in the path 
 of virtue." 
 
 "May I say you informed me of his behav- 
 ior? Because how otherwise could I account 
 
 135 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 for my knowledge? He would know I should 
 never have thought of opening or looking at 
 his letters myself/' 
 
 Mrs. Gurrage was not the least ashamed of 
 having done this, to me, most dishonorable 
 thing. She could not see the matter from my 
 point of view. 
 
 I remember grandmamma once told me that 
 servants and people of the lower classes always 
 think it is their right to read any one's letters 
 they come across, so I suppose my mother-in- 
 law cannot help her standard of honor being 
 different to ours. 
 
 " You mustn't make mischief between my boy 
 and me/' she said. "You must invent some- 
 thing think of some other way." 
 
 " But I cannot tell a lie about it. I shall say 
 you have received disquieting information ; I will 
 not say how. Otherwise, I will not speak to him 
 at all about it." 
 
 Mrs. Gurrage burst into tears. 
 
 "There it's breakin' my heart!" she sobbed, 
 "and you don't care a brass farthing!" 
 
 "Of course I care/' I said, feebly. 
 
 Oh, grandmamma! For once you must have 
 been wrong, and it would have been better 
 for me to have worked in the gutter! I won- 
 der if you felt that at the end. But we had 
 given our word. Augustus held us to it, and 
 no Calincourt had ever broken his word. 
 
 136 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 By the afternoon post came a letter from Sir 
 Antony Thornhirst. He had returned from Scot- 
 land, he said, and hoped we would soon pay him 
 our promised visit. 
 
 It was a short note, dry and to the point, with 
 nothing in it unnecessary in the way of words. 
 I do not know why I read it over several times. 
 His writing gave me comfort. I felt as if there 
 was some one human who would understand 
 things. 
 
 When I was dressing for dinner, Augustus re- 
 turned. He shuffled into the room without knock- 
 ing, while McGreggor was brushing my hair. 
 
 He seemed to have forgotten the scene of the 
 morning, and was in a most amiable mood. 
 He had brought me a new muff chain, in won- 
 derfully good taste ; he could never have chosen 
 it himself. It is so difficult to thank people for 
 things when you would like to throw them in 
 the fire rather than receive them. 
 
 However, I did my best. 
 
 McGreggor felt it her duty to leave the room. 
 Would this be a good opportunity to get. over 
 what I had promised my mother-in-law to say 
 to Augustus? Oh, it was an ugly moment. 
 
 I told him, as simply as I could, that his 
 mother was worried about him, fearing he had 
 contracted a dangerous friendship with Lady 
 Grenellen, and that I hoped he would make her 
 mind at ease upon the subject. 
 
 137 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 He came over to me and seized my wrists. 
 There was an air of conscious pride in his face. 
 He was not displeased that this gallantry could 
 be attributed to him. 
 
 "It's all your fault if I do look at any one 
 else/' he blustered; "and, anyway, a man of the 
 world must have a little amusement, with such 
 a dull, stuck - up wife at home as I have got. 
 Cordelia is a darned sight higher rank than 
 you are, and yet she does not give herself your 
 mighty airs." 
 
 "Oh, do not think it matters to me/' I said, as 
 calmly as I could, "only it worries your mother, 
 who spoke to me about it." 
 
 "If I thought you cared it would be different/' 
 Augustus said, delighted to grasp at this excuse. 
 
 "No, it would be just the same, only in that 
 case it would grieve me, and I should suffer, 
 whereas now " I left the sentence unfinished. 
 I do not know why. 
 
 "Now you don't care what I do or whether I 
 am dead or alive that is what you mean, I see," 
 he said, dropping my wrists and walking tow- 
 ards the door. 
 
 "Augustus!" I called to him, and he came 
 back. " Listen. You swore at me this morning. 
 You were very rude to me, and you spend the 
 day in London with another woman, and return 
 bringing me a present. I have done my best 
 not to resent these insults, but I warn you I 
 will not stand any more." 
 
 138 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 He became cringing. 
 
 "Who's been telling the mater these stories 
 about me?" he asked. "There's not a word of 
 truth in them. It is a queer thing if a man may 
 not speak to a woman without people making 
 mischief about it!" 
 
 " That is between you and your mother. All 
 I would like to know is that you will not swear 
 at me in future and will treat me with more 
 civility." 
 
 I felt I could not continue the subject of his 
 "friendship" with Lady Grenellen. The whole 
 matter seemed so low. 
 
 "Well, you are a brick, after all, not to kick 
 up a row," Augustus said. "So let us kiss and 
 be friends again, and I am sorry if I was nasty 
 this morning. There! little woman, you need 
 not be jealous," and he patted my hand, and 
 then began twisting the long waves of my hair 
 in and out of his thick fingers. 
 
 "What is a fellow to do when a woman falls 
 in love with him?" he continued, with self-con- 
 scious complacency. "He can't be a bear to 
 her, even though he is married, eh?" 
 
 " No, it is only to his wife he can be the bear," 
 I said. 
 
 Of course, I ought to have been very jeal- 
 ous and angry, I am sure, but I could not feel 
 the least emotion. I only longed to wrench 
 my hair out of his hands, and to tell him 
 that he might speak to and make love to whom 
 
 139 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 he pleased so long as he left me alone and in 
 peace. 
 
 He then became more affectionate, telling me 
 I was the most beautiful woman he had ever 
 seen, and that I had " stunning hair "and va- 
 rious other charms, and if only I would not be 
 a lump of ice he would never leave me! 
 
 I could not say, as I felt, "But that is the one 
 thing I should like you to do/' so I said nothing 
 and, as soon as I could get near the bell unper- 
 ceived, rang for McGreggor again, and put an 
 end to the scene. 
 
VI 
 
 NEXT morning at breakfast Augustus said: 
 "As Farrington has refused for the I5th, you 
 had better write and ask that fellow Thornhirst 
 your cousin. They tell me he is a capital shot, 
 and I want my birds killed this year/' 
 
 The year before, apparently, the party had 
 been composed of indifferent marksmen, and the 
 head keeper had spoken rather sarcastically upon 
 the subject. 
 
 Augustus, when not bullying them, stands in 
 great awe of his servants. 
 
 "I am afraid, with only this short notice, 
 there is little chance of Sir Antony being disen- 
 gaged/' I remarked. 
 
 I somehow felt as if I did not want him to 
 come to Ledstone. He would be so ridiculously 
 out of place here. 
 
 "A keen shot would throw over any invita- 
 tion he had had previously for such a chance 
 as my two best days/' Augustus replied, pom- 
 pously, helping himself to a second kidney and 
 smearing it with mustard. "You just write this 
 morning, and ask him to wire reply/' 
 
 "Very well/' I said, reluctantly. He would 
 141 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 certainly be engaged though, I need not fear. " I 
 had a note from him yesterday, saying he had 
 returned from Scotland, and asking us to go over 
 soon and pay our promised visit to dine and sleep." 
 
 "There! I'll bet he was fishing for an invita- 
 tion to this shoot," said Augustus, triumphantly. 
 And, not content with the mustard he had al- 
 ready plastered the kidney with, he shook pepper 
 over it, heaping it up upon his knife first and 
 agitating that implement with his fork to make 
 the pepper fall evenly. I do not know why these 
 details of the way he eats should irritate me so. 
 
 "Now, mind you catch the early post," he 
 continued, "and tell him who the party are." 
 
 At fifteen minutes to eleven I found myself 
 still staring irresolutely at the sheet of note- 
 paper lying before me on the writing-table in 
 my boudoir. It had the date written, and " Dear 
 Sir Antony." The rest was a blank. 
 
 The little, brand - new Dresden clock on the 
 mantel -piece chimed the three-quarters. The 
 post leaves at eleven. I took up the pen and 
 dashed at it. 
 
 "Eight guns are going to shoot partridges 
 here on the I5th of October, and Augustus will 
 be very pleased if you will make the ninth," 
 I wrote. Could anything be more bete ? " Please 
 wire reply, and believe me, yours sincerely " 
 I hesitated again. Must I sign myself "Am- 
 brosine de Calincourt Gurrage "? The strangest 
 reluctance came over me. 
 
 142 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 It has always been a disagreeable moment 
 when I have had to write "Gurrage/' but never 
 so disagreeable as now. 
 
 "A. de C. G./' I began. No, initials would 
 not do "urrage, " I added, and the distance 
 between the "G" and the "u" showed, I am 
 afraid, that there was something unnatural about 
 my signature. 
 
 " No one would accept such a stupid invitation 
 as that/' I said to myself, hopefully, as I folded 
 the sheet and put it in the envelope. But by ten 
 o'clock next day a telegram was handed to me : 
 
 "Very pleased to come on 15th. Many thanks. 
 ANTONY THORNHIRST. 
 
 So he will see the stuffed bears, and the negro 
 figures, and the Tottenham Court Road Louis 
 XV. drawing-rooms, after all, whether I wish 
 it or no! 
 
 Whether I wish it or no ! 
 
 . Augustus was delighted not so much at the 
 acceptance of this guest, but his own wonderful 
 prehension. 
 
 " There! I told you he'd jump at it/' he said. 
 
 For several days after this a good deal of 
 my time was taken up by my mother-in-law's 
 advice and directions as to how I should rule 
 the house during her absence at Bournemouth, 
 where she would be until she returned to spend 
 Christmas with us. 
 
 143 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 It was a great wrench, one could see, to Mrs. 
 Gurrage to relinquish even for this short two 
 months her rule at Ledstone. But she was in 
 so good a temper with me for what she consid- 
 ered I had done in bringing Augustus back "to 
 the path of duty" (we have heard no more of 
 Lady Grenellen) that she bestowed upon me her 
 sceptre with a good grace. 
 
 At last the day came when Amelia, carrying 
 the parrot, followed her into the brougham. 
 
 Augustus had preceded them to the station, 
 and with infinite fuss of maids and footman, 
 and stray card-board boxes, and final directions, 
 the whole party disappeared down the drive, and 
 I was left standing on the red-granite steps. 
 
 A sudden sense of exaltation came over me. 
 
 I was alone for the first time since my wedding ! 
 
 It would be evening before Augustus could 
 return from seeing them off in London. 
 
 There was almost one whole day. What should 
 I do? Where should I go? 
 
 Roy even barked with pleasure. 
 
 As I turned back into the house, the butler 
 informed me Hephzibah Mrs. Prodgers was 
 waiting to see me. 
 
 Dear old nurse! She comes up rarely. She 
 is radiantly happy with her grocer's man, and 
 I think it grieves her to see me. 
 
 To-day it was to tell me that she had had an 
 accident with one of the Sevres cups, a chip 
 having appeared in the handle. 
 
 144 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 She almost cried over it. 
 
 "Oh! If madam could know!" she said; then, 
 " I dearly wish you would come back just to see 
 how I have kept things/' she added. 
 
 "Oh, Hephzibah, I will some day, but do not 
 ask me yet ! I I should so miss grandmamma. " 
 
 "You you're happy, Miss Ambrosine?" she 
 faltered, timidly. "Madam always knew best, 
 you know. - But I had a dream last night of your 
 father, and he shook his fist at us right there." 
 
 "Papa!" I felt startled. Our settled convic- 
 tion had been so long that he was dead. " You 
 dreamed of papa? Oh! Hephzibah, if he should 
 still be alive!" I cried. 
 
 "There, there," she said, uneasily. "It is 
 too late, anyway, my deary, but he'll understand 
 that we could none of us stand against madam 
 if he should come back, ever. He he won't 
 blame us." 
 
 I did not ask her what he should blame us for 
 her, poor soul ! for having been unable to keep 
 me with her, free ; me for having submitted to the 
 mutilation of my own life. Would papa blame 
 us for this? 
 
 Kind, awkward, abrupt papa! 
 
 Hephzibah glanced round the room. It is the 
 first time she had been in my boudoir since it 
 was finished. 
 
 " Why won't you have up some of your things?" 
 she said, at last. "It don't look like you, this 
 grand place." 
 
 145 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " No, it is not very like me, is it? But you see 
 everything is changed, and they would not do 
 mixed, the old and the new. I am a new person/' 
 I sighed. "See this book is the only thing I 
 brought with me, besides the miniature of my 
 great -great -grandmother/' and I took up La 
 Rochefoucauld tenderly. 
 
 "It don't feel like home," said .Hephzibah, 
 and then she suddenly burst into tears. 
 
 "Oh, my deary!" she sobbed. "And you so 
 beautiful, and pale, and proud, and never say- 
 ing a word, and they are none of them fit to 
 black your boots." 
 
 "Oh, hush, hush, Hephzibah!" I said. 
 
 My voice calmed her. She looked round as 
 though afraid that grandmamma would come in 
 and scold her for crying. 
 
 "There! I am an old fool!" she whimpered. 
 " But it is being so happy myself and knowing 
 what real love is that makes me cry." 
 
 This picture of my dear old nurse as the hero- 
 ine of a real love story was so pathetically comic 
 that a lump, half tears, half laughter, rose in my 
 own throat. 
 
 "I am so glad you are happy, Hephzibah," 
 I said, unsteadily. "And of course I am happy, 
 too. Come I will show you the beautiful chain 
 Mr. Gurrage gave me lately, and a set of new 
 rings, a ruby, a sapphire, and a diamond, each 
 stone as big as a peanut." 
 
 Hephzibah had not lived with grandmamma 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 for years without acquiring a certain tact. She 
 spoke no more of things that could emotion us, 
 and soon we parted, smiling grimly at each 
 other. 
 
 But the sense of exaltation was gone. 
 
 I could fly a little, like a bird round a large 
 aviary. The bars were there beyond. 
 
vn 
 
 IT was odious weather, the afternoon of the 
 I5th. Our eight guns had arrived in time for 
 tea, some with wives, some without one with a 
 playful, giddy daughter. Men predominated. 
 
 There were some two or three decent people 
 from the county round. The remainder, com- 
 mercial connections, friends of the past. 
 
 One terrible woman, with parted, plastered 
 hair and an aggressive voice and rustling silks, 
 dominated the conversation. She is the wife 
 of the brother of the late Mr. Gurrage's part- 
 ner who "died youngish/' 
 
 This couple come apparently every year to the 
 best partridge drive. "Dodd" is their name. 
 
 Mrs. Dodd was extremely ill at ease among 
 the other ladies, but was determined to let them 
 know that she considered herself their superior 
 in every way. 
 
 At the moment when she was recounting, 
 in a strident voice, the shortcomings of one of 
 her local neighbors, the butler announced : 
 
 "Sir Antony Thornhirst." 
 
 Our ninth gun had arrived. 
 
 "So good of you to ask me/' he said, as he 
 148 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 shook hands, and his voice sounded like smooth 
 velvet after the others. And for a minute there 
 was a singing in my ears. 
 
 " Jolly glad to see you/' Augustus blustered. 
 "What beastly weather! You motored over, I 
 suppose?" 
 
 Sir Antony sat down by me. 
 
 I remembered the ways he would be accus- 
 tomed to and did not introduce him to any one. 
 
 He had exchanged casual "How do you do's" 
 with the neighbors he knew. 
 
 1 poured him out some tea. 
 
 "I don't drink it," he said, "but give me 
 some, and sugar, and cream, and anything that 
 will take time to put in. " 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 " It is very long since we met at Harley, and 
 I began to think you were going to forget me 
 again, Comtesse!" 
 
 "Is that why you came here?" 
 
 "Yes and because they tell me your keep- 
 er can show at least a hundred and fifty brace 
 of partridges each day!" 
 
 "Augustus was right, then." 
 
 "What about?" 
 
 "He said you would come because of the 
 number of the birds. I I felt sure you would 
 be engaged." 
 
 " Your note was not cordial nor cousinly, and 
 I was engaged, but the attraction of the game, 
 as Mr. Gurrage says, decided me." 
 
 149 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 His smile had never looked so mocking nor 
 his eyes so kind. 
 
 " Might I trouble you for a second cup, please, 
 Mrs. Gussie?" the female Dodd interrupted, 
 loudly, from half across the room. "Mr. Mc- 
 Cormack is taking it over to you. And a little 
 stronger this time, please. I don't care for this 
 new-fangled taste for weak tea dish-water, I 
 call it only fit for the jaded digestions of worn- 
 out worldly women." 
 
 "Who owns this fog-horn?" my kinsman 
 whispered. " Will it come out shooting to-mor- 
 row? The game-book record will be consider- 
 ably lower if so!" 
 
 "It won't shoot; it will only lunch/' I whis- 
 pered back. 
 
 Somehow, my spirits had risen. I loved to 
 sit and laugh there with Antony. (I think of 
 him as Antony, now we are cousins, I must 
 remember.) 
 
 I poured out the blackest tea I could, and 
 inadvertently put a lump of sugar into it. I 
 am afraid I was not attending. 
 
 Mr. McCormack, a big, burly youth, with a 
 red face and fearfully nervous manners, stood 
 first on one foot, then on the other, while he 
 waited for the cup, which, eventually, he took 
 back to Mrs. Dodd. 
 
 All this time Antony was sitting talking to 
 me in his delightfully lazy way, quite undis- 
 turbed by any one else in the room. He has 
 
 150 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 exactly grandmamma's manner of finding a 
 general company simply furniture. 
 
 He was just telling an amusing story of the 
 house in Scotland he had come from, when an 
 explosion happened at the other side of the fire- 
 place. Loud coughing and choking, mixed with 
 a clatter of teaspoons and china and, amid a 
 terrified silence, the fog-horn exclaimed : 
 
 " Surely, Mrs. Gussie, I told you plain enough 
 that sugar in my tea makes me sick/' 
 
 I apologized as well as I could, and repaired 
 my want of attention, and then I felt my other 
 guests must claim me, so I whispered to An- 
 tony: 
 
 "Do go and talk to Lady Wakely, please. 
 You are preventing me from doing my duty! 
 I am listening to you instead." 
 
 "Virtuous Comtesse!" 
 
 But he rose, and crossed over to the fat wife 
 of the member for this division, and soon her 
 face beamed with smiles. 
 
 I soothed Mr. McCormack, who somehow felt 
 the sugar had been his fault. 
 
 Augustus mollified the fog-horn Dodd, and 
 peace was restored all around. 
 
 It is a long time between tea and dinner when 
 the days are growing short. It was only half- 
 past six when every excuse for lingering over 
 the teacups had expired. 
 
 What on earth could one do with this ill-as- 
 sorted company for a whole hour? 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Augustus, with a desire to be extremely 
 smart, had commanded dinner at half -past 
 eight. 
 
 Mercifully, the decent people and some of the 
 men played bridge, and were soon engaged at 
 one or two tables. Augustus, who is growing 
 fond of the game, made one of the fourth, thus 
 leaving five of our guests hanging upon my 
 hands. 
 
 "Shall I show you your rooms? Perhaps you 
 would like to rest before dinner/' I said to the 
 ladies, who were good enough to assent, with 
 the exception of Mrs. Dodd, who snorted at the 
 idea of resting. 
 
 "Wullie," she said to Mr. Dodd. She had 
 evidently picked up the Scotch pronunciation of 
 his name from him, a quiet, red-haired man orig- 
 inally from Glasgow. He was hovering in the 
 direction of one of the bridge-tables. "Wullie, 
 don't let me see you playing that game of cards. 
 There are letters to be written to Martha and my 
 mother. Come with me," she commanded. 
 
 Mr. Dodd obeyed, and they retired to the li- 
 brary together. 
 
 They are evidently quite at home here, and 
 did not need any attention from me. 
 
 Antony Thornhirst was the only other guest 
 unemployed, and he immediately rose and went 
 to write letters in the hall, he said. He had 
 refused to play bridge on account of this im- 
 portant correspondence. 
 
 152 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 So at last I got the two women off to their 
 rooms, and was standing irresolutely for a sec- 
 ond, glancing over the balustrade after closing 
 the last door, when my kinsman looked up. 
 
 "Comtesse," he called, softly, "won't you 
 come down and tell me when the post goes?" 
 
 I descended the stairs. He was standing at 
 the bottom by one of the negro figures when 
 I reached the last step. 
 
 "Have you not some quiet corner where we 
 might sit and talk of our ancestors?" he asked, 
 with a comic look in his cat's eyes. "This 
 place is so draughty, and I am afraid of the 
 bears! And we should disturb that loving 
 couple in the library and the bridge - players 
 in the drawing-room. Have you no sugges- 
 tions for my comfort? I am one of your guests, 
 too, you know!" 
 
 "There is Mrs. Gurrage's boudoir, that has 
 straight-up, padded chairs and crimson satin, 
 and there is my own, that is mustard yellow. 
 Which could you bear best before dinner?" I 
 said, laughing. 
 
 "Oh! the yellow mustard is stimulating and 
 will give me an appetite." 
 
 So we walked up the stairs again together 
 and he followed me down the thickly carpeted 
 passage to my highly gilded shrine. 
 
 For the first time since I have owned it, I felt 
 sorry I had been too numb to make it nice. The 
 house-maids arrange it in the morning, and there 
 
 153 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 it stays, a monument of the English upholsterer's 
 idea of a Louis XV. boudoir. 
 
 As I told Hephzibah, the little copy of La 
 Rochefoucauld and the miniature of Ambrosine 
 Eustasie are the only things of mine my own 
 that are here, besides all my new books, of course. 
 
 I sat down in the straight-backed sofa. It 
 has terra-cotta and buff tulips running over the 
 mustard brocade. The gilt part runs into your 
 back. 
 
 Antony sat at the other end. 
 
 A very fat, rich cushion of "school of art" em- 
 broidery, with frills, fell between us. We looked 
 up at the same moment and our eyes met, and 
 we both laughed. 
 
 "You remind me of a picture I bought last 
 year," Antony said. "It was a little pastel by 
 La Tour, and the last owner had framed it in 
 a brand-new, brilliant gilt Florentine frame." 
 
 Suddenly, as he spoke, a sense of shame came 
 over me. I felt how wrong I had been to laugh 
 with him about this my home. It is because, 
 after all these months, I cannot realize that Led- 
 stone is my home that I have been capable of 
 committing this bad taste. 
 
 I felt my cheeks getting red and I looked down. 
 
 "I I like bright colors," I said, defiantly. 
 " They are cheerful and and " 
 
 "Sweet Comtesse!" interrupted Antony, in 
 his mocking tone, which does not anger me. 
 "Tell me about your books." 
 
 154 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 He got up lazily, and began reading the titles 
 of a heap on the table beyond. 
 
 "What strange books for a little girl! Who 
 on earth recommended you these?" 
 
 " No one. I knew nothing at all about mod- 
 ern books, so I just sent for all and any I saw 
 in the advertisements in the papers. Most of 
 them are great rubbish, it seems to me, but there 
 are one or two I like/' 
 
 He did not speak for a few moments. 
 
 " All on philosophy ! You ought to read nov- 
 els at your age." 
 
 "I did get some in the beginning, but they 
 seemed all untrue and mawkish, or sad and 
 dramatic, and the heroines did such silly things, 
 and the men were mostly brutes, so I have given 
 them up. Unless I see the advertisement of 
 a thrilling burglary or mystery story, I read 
 those. They are not true, either, and one knows 
 it, but they make one forget when it rains." 
 
 "All women profess to have a little taste for 
 philosophy and beautifully bound Marcus Aure- 
 liuses, and Maximes, and love poems clever lit- 
 tle scraps covered in exquisite bindings. And 
 one out of a thousand understands what the 
 letter-press is about. I am weary of seeing the 
 same on every boudoir - table, and yet some of 
 them are delightful books in themselves. You 
 have none of these, I see." 
 
 He picked up the La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 "Yes, here is one, but this is an old edi- 
 155 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 tion." He turned to the title-leaf and read the 
 date, then looked at the cover. It is bound in 
 brown leather and has the same arms and cor- 
 onet upon it that my chatelaine has the arms 
 of Ambrosine Eustasie de Calincourt and an 
 "A. E. de C." entwined, all tooled in faded gold. 
 
 "The arms on my knife!" Antony said, pull- 
 ing it from his waistcoat-pocket and comparing 
 them. 
 
 "My knife/' I said. 
 
 "Tell me all about her A. E. de C.," he 
 commanded, seating himself on the sofa again. 
 
 "She was my great-great-grandmother, and 
 was guillotined. See I will show you her min- 
 iature/' and I took it from its case on the writ- 
 ing-table. I have had a leather covering made 
 to keep safe the old, paste frame. It has doors 
 that shut, and I don't let her look too much at 
 the mustard-yellow walls, my pretty ancestress. 
 
 "What an extraordinary likeness!" Antony 
 exclaimed, as he looked at it. " Are you sure I 
 am not dreaming and you are not your own 
 great-great-grandmother?" 
 
 " No, I am myself. But I am supposed to be 
 like her, though." 
 
 " It is the very image of you. She has your 
 air and carriage of the head, and and " he 
 looked at it very carefully under the electric 
 light which sprouts from a twisted bunch of 
 brass lilies on the wall, their stalks suggest- 
 ing a modern Louis XV. nightmare. 
 
 156 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "And what?" 
 
 "Well, never mind. Now I want to hear her 
 story/' And we both sat down again for the 
 third time on the tulip-sofa. 
 
 I told him the history just as I had told him 
 the outline of my life the day in the Harley 
 woods. Only, as then I felt I was speaking of 
 another person, now I seemed to be talking of 
 myself when I came to the part of walking up 
 the guillotine steps. 
 
 "And so they cut her head off poor little 
 lady!" said Antony, when I had finished, and 
 he looked straight into my eyes. 
 
 The pillow of art-needlework and frills had 
 fallen to the floor even it could not remain 
 comfortably on the hard seat! There was noth- 
 ing between us on the sofa. 
 
 Antony leaned forward, close to me. His 
 voice was strangely moved. 
 
 "Comtesse!" he began, when McGreggor 
 knocked at the door. 
 
 "Mr. Giirrage is calling you, ma'am," she 
 said, in her heavy, Scotch voice, "and he seems 
 in a hurry, ma'am." 
 
 "Ambrosine!" echoed impatiently in the hall. 
 
 "Why, it must be dressing-time!" said An- 
 tony, calmly, looking at his watch. "I must 
 not keep you," and he quietly left the room as 
 Augustus burst in from my bedroom door. 
 
 "Where on earth have you been?" he said, 
 crossly. "That Dodd woman has been driving 
 
 157 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 us all mad! Willie Dodd came and joined us 
 at bridge and took McCormack's place, and 
 the old she-tike came after him and chattered 
 like a monkey until she got him away. Where 
 were you that you did not look after her?" 
 
 "I was here, in my sitting-room, talking to 
 Sir Antony Thornhirst," I said, almost laugh- 
 ing. The picture of Mrs. Dodd at the bridge- 
 table amused me to think of. Augustus saw 
 me smiling, and he looked less ruffled. 
 
 "She is an old wretch/' he said. "I wish I 
 had not to ask Willie Dodd every year, but busi- 
 ness is business, and I'll trouble you to be civil 
 to them. We will weed out the whole of this 
 lot, gradually, now. The mater will go off to 
 Bournemouth at this time of the year, and so, 
 by -and -by, we can have nothing but smart 
 people." 
 
 The evening passed in an endless, boring 
 round. This sort of company does not adapt 
 itself as the people at Harley did. With my 
 best endeavors to be a good hostess, the un- 
 easiness of my guests prevented me from mak- 
 ing them feel comfortable or at home. 
 
 Mrs. Dodd's impertinence would have been 
 insupportable if it had not been so funny. 
 
 She complained of most things the draughts, 
 the inconvenience of the hours of the train de- 
 partures, and so on. 
 
 She was gorgeously dressed and hung with 
 diamonds. Without being exceptionally stout, 
 
 158 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 everything is so tight and pushed-up that she 
 seems to come straight out from her chin in a 
 kind of platform, where the diamonds lose them- 
 selves in a narrow, perpendicular depression 
 in the middle. 
 
 Antony sat next me at dinner, at one side; 
 on the other was old Sir Samuel Wakely. Mr. 
 Dodd on his left hand had Miss Springle, the 
 playful, giddy daughter of one of the guns. 
 
 She chaffed him all the time, much to the 
 annoyance of his life's partner, who was sit- 
 ting opposite, and who, owing to an erection 
 of flowers, was unable to quite see what was 
 going on. 
 
 "Yes," we heard Mr. Dodd say, at last, "I 
 nearly bought it in Paris at the Exhibition. 
 Eh! but it was a beautiful statue!" 
 
 "I like statues," said Miss Springle. 
 
 "Well, she was just a perfect specimen of a 
 woman, but Missus Dodd wouldna let me pur- 
 chase her, because the puir thing wasna dressed. 
 I didna think it could matter in marble." 
 
 "What's that you are saying about Mrs. 
 Dodd?" demanded that lady from across the 
 table, dodging the chrysanthemums. 
 
 "I was telling Miss Springle, my dear, of 
 the statue of 'Innocence' I wanted to buy at 
 the Exhibition at Paris," replied Mr. Dodd, 
 meekly, "and that you wouldna let me on ac- 
 count of the scanty clothing." 
 
 "Innocence, indeed!" snorted Mrs. Dodd. 
 159 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Pretty names they give things over there! 
 And her clothing scant, you call it, Wullie? 
 Why, you are stretching a point to the verge 
 of untruth to call it clothing at all a scarf of 
 muslin and a couple of doves! Anyhow, I'll 
 have it known I'll not have a naked woman in 
 my drawing-room, in jnarble or flesh!" 
 
 The conversation of the whole table was par- 
 alyzed by her voice. My eye caught Antony's, 
 and we both laughed. 
 
 " There, there, my dear, don't be even suggest- 
 ing such things," said Mr. Dodd, soothingly. 
 
 "La! Mrs. Dodd, you make me blush," gig- 
 gled Miss Springle. 
 
 I wondered what Antony thought of it all, 
 and whether he had ever been among such peo- 
 ple before. His face betrayed nothing after he 
 laughed with me, and he seemed to be quiet- 
 ly enjoying his dinner, which, fortunately, was 
 good. 
 
 It was only for a few minutes before we all 
 said good-night that we spoke together alone. 
 
 "Shall you be down to breakfast, Comtesse?" 
 he asked me. 
 
 "Oh yes," I said. "These people would never 
 understand. They would think I was being de- 
 liberately rude if I breakfasted in my room." 
 
 "At nine o'clock, then?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Lend me your La Rochefoucauld to read 
 to-night?" he asked. 
 
 160 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 "With pleasure. I will have it sent to your 
 
 room." 
 
 " No, let me get it from your mustard boudoir 
 myself. I shall be coming up, probably, to 
 change into a smoking-coat, and my room is 
 down that way, you know." 
 
 "Very well/' 
 
 So we said good-night. 
 
 Half an hour afterwards, I was standing by 
 my sitting-room fire when Antony came into 
 the room. He leaned on the mantel-piece beside 
 me and looked down into my face. 
 
 "When will you come over to Dane Mount, 
 Comtesse? I want to show you my great-great- 
 grandmother. She was yours, too, by-the-way," 
 he said. 
 
 "When will you ask us?" 
 
 "In about a fortnight. I have to run about 
 Norfolk until then. Will you come some time 
 near the 4th of November?" 
 
 " I shall have to ask Augustus, but I dare 
 say we can." 
 
 He frowned slightly at the mention of Au- 
 gustus. 
 
 "Of course. Well, I will not have a party, 
 only some one to talk to your husband. The 
 ancestors won't interest him, probably." 
 
 "Oh! Do ask Lady Tilchester," I said. "I 
 love her." 
 
 He bent down suddenly to look at the Dres- 
 den clock. 
 
 161 
 
 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " No, I don't think so. She will be entertain- 
 ing herself just then/' he said, "and probably 
 could not get away. But leave it to me. I 
 promise to arrange that Augustus shall not be 
 bored/' 
 
 He picked up La Rochefoucauld and opened it. 
 
 "I see you have marked some of the max- 
 
 imes." 
 
 "No. Grandmamma and the Marquis must 
 have done that. Look, they are all of the most 
 witty and cynical that are pencilled. I can 
 hear them talking when I read them. That is 
 just how they spoke to one another." 
 
 He read aloud: 
 
 '"C'est une grande folie de vouloir etre sage 
 tout seul!' Don't be 'sage tout seul/ Comtesse. 
 Let me keep you company in your sagesse," he 
 said. 
 
 I looked up at him. His eyes were full of 
 a quizzical smile. There is something in the 
 way his head is set, a distinction, an air of com- 
 mand. It infinitely pleases me. I felt I know 
 not what! 
 
 " Now I will say good-night. I am tired, and 
 it is getting late," I said. 
 
 "Good -night, Comtesse," and he walked to 
 the door. "I shall be down at nine o'clock." 
 
 And so we parted. 
 
VIII 
 
 ON the morrow it had cleared up and flashes 
 of blue sky were appearing. Augustus and 
 Mr. McCormack had both had too much to drink 
 the night before, at dinner, and were looking, 
 and no doubt feeling, mixed and ill-tempered. 
 
 The morning was long after the shooters had 
 gone. It seemed as if one o'clock, when we were 
 to start for the lunch, would never come. 
 
 Miss Springle had some passages-at-arms 
 with Mrs. Dodd. They had all been down to 
 breakfast but Lady Wakely and another woman, 
 who were accustomed to the ways of the world. 
 
 I had never seen any shooting before. The 
 whole thing was new to me. Augustus had 
 insisted upon selecting what he considered a 
 suitable costume for me. We had been up to 
 London several times together to try it on, and, 
 on the whole, though a little outre in its checks, 
 it is not unbecoming. 
 
 "Do you shoot, yourself, Mrs. Gussie?" Mrs. 
 Dodd asked, when we assembled in the hall, 
 ready to start. 
 
 "No; do you?" I replied. 
 
 " Of course not! The idea! But, seeing your 
 163 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 skirt so very short, I should have guessed you 
 were a sportswoman and killed the birds your- 
 self!" and she sniffed ominously. 
 
 "Do birds get killed with a skirt?" Miss 
 Springle asked, pertly. She hates Mrs. Dodd. 
 They were neighbors in Liverpool, originally. 
 " I thought you had to shoot at them?" 
 
 Mrs. Dodd snorted. 
 
 "You will get awfully muddy, Mrs. Dodd, 
 in your long cashmere," Miss Springle con- 
 tinued. "And Mr. Dodd told me, when I met 
 him coming from the bath this morning, to be 
 sure not to wear any colors they frighten the 
 birds. I am certain he will object to that yellow 
 paradise-plume in your hat." 
 
 Mrs. Dodd looked ready to fight. 
 
 "Mr. Dodd had better talk to me about my 
 hat!" she said, growing purple in the face. "I 
 call all these modern sporting-costumes indecent, 
 and when I was a girl I should have been whipped 
 for coming out shooting in the things you have 
 got on, Miss Springle!" 
 
 "Really! you don't say so!" said Miss Sprin- 
 gle, innocently. " Why, I never heard they shot 
 birds in Liverpool, Mrs. Dodd." 
 
 I interfered. The expression of my elder 
 guest's face was becoming apoplectic. 
 
 "Let us get into the brake," I said. 
 
 Lady Wakely sat next me. 
 
 "Very unpleasant person, Mrs. Dodd," she 
 whispered, wheezily, as we drove off. "She 
 
 164 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 is here every year. My dear, you are good- 
 natured to put up with her." 
 
 Lunch was laid out in the barn of one of the 
 farm-houses. Augustus had given orders that 
 it should be of the most sumptuous description, 
 and the chef had done marvels. 
 
 The table looked like a wedding-breakfast 
 when we got there, with flowers and printed 
 menus. 
 
 The sportsmen were not long in making their 
 appearance. It was a rather warm day, and 
 Mr. McCormack and Mr. Dodd, who were not 
 accustomed to much exercise, I suppose, with- 
 out ceremony mopped their heads. 
 
 Antony, who was walking behind, with Sir 
 Samuel Wakely, appeared such an astonish- 
 ingly cool contrast to them. His coat did not 
 look new, but as if it had seen service. Only 
 everything fitted and hung right, and he walks 
 with an ease and grace that would have pleased 
 grandmamma. 
 
 Augustus had a thunderous expression on 
 his face. So had Wilks, the head keeper. Later, 
 I gathered there had been a great quantity of 
 birds, but the commercial friends had not been 
 very successful in their destruction. In fact, Mr. 
 Dodd had only secured two brace, besides one 
 of the beaters in the shoulder, and a dog. 
 
 Antony sat by me. 
 
 "Dangerous work, shooting," he said, smil- 
 ing, as he looked at the menu. "What is 
 
 165 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 your average list of killed in a pheasant bat- 
 tue?" 
 
 "What what kind of killed?" I asked, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " Guests or beaters or dogs anything but the 
 birds/' 
 
 "Cutlets ha la ravigotte or 'ommard ha la- 
 merican, Sir Antony?" the voice of the first 
 footman sounded in our ears. 
 
 "Oh er get me a little Irish stew or some 
 cold beef/' said Antony, plaintively, still with 
 the menu in his hand. 
 
 "We've no Irish stew except what is pre- 
 pared for the beaters, Sir Antony/' said James, 
 apologetically. He had come from a ducal 
 house and knew the world. "Shall I get you 
 some of that, Sir Antony?" 
 
 "No, don't mind." Then, turning to me, 
 "What are you eating, Comtesse?" he asked. 
 "I will have some of that." 
 
 "It is truffled partridge in aspic," I said, dis- 
 agreeably. "You can pick out the truffles if 
 you are afraid of them." 
 
 "Truffled partridge, then," he said to James, 
 resignedly, and when it came he deliberately ate 
 the truffles first. 
 
 "Hock, claret, Burgundy, or champagne, Sir 
 Antony?" demanded the butler. 
 
 "Oh er I will have the whole four!" 
 
 His face had the most comical expression of 
 chastened resignation as he glanced at me. 
 
 166 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Griggson poured out bumpers in the four 
 glasses. 
 
 "I shall now shoot like your friend from Liv- 
 erpool/' said Antony, "and if I kill your hus- 
 band and most of the guests I cannot be blamed 
 for it," and he drank down the hock. 
 
 " Don't be so foolish/' I said, laughing, in spite 
 of having pretended to be annoyed with him. 
 
 "I would drink anything rather than incur 
 your displeasure/' he said, with great humility, 
 as he took up the claret. "Must I eat every- 
 thing on the menu, too?" 
 
 I appeared not to hear, and turned to Mr. Dodd, 
 who was on my other side, his usually pale face 
 still crimson with walking so fast and this feast 
 of Lucullus he was partaking of. 
 
 "I had bad luck this morning, Mrs. Gussie," 
 he said, in a humble voice. " I am sorry about 
 that man and dog, and I am afraid the gentle- 
 man on your right must have got a pellet also 
 eh, sir?" and he addressed Antony. 
 
 "A mere trifle," said my neighbor "on the 
 right/' with his most suave air and a twinkle 
 in his eye as he finished the claret. "Just a 
 shot or two in the left arm a mere nothing, 
 when one considers the dangers the whole line 
 were incurring." 
 
 "You were shot in the arm, Sir Antony?" I 
 exclaimed, suddenly, feeling a great dislike to 
 Mr. Dodd. " Oh, but people should not shoot if 
 they are so careless, surely!" 
 
 167 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I beg your pardon, ma'am/' said Mr. Dodd, 
 huffily. " I am not careless. I have been shoot- 
 ing now for a matter of five years and only twice 
 before have hit any one/' 
 
 "You have had the devil's own luck!" said 
 Antony, beginning the Burgundy. 
 
 "You may call it luck, sir/' said Mr. Dodd, 
 "but I think a man wants a bit of judgment, 
 too, to shoot, and I always try to remember where 
 my neighbors stand. But, I must admit, with 
 pheasant shooting in a wood it is more diffi- 
 cult. It was getting a little excited with a rab- 
 bit which caused the last accident I had." 
 
 Antony finished the Burgundy. 
 
 "Are you going to walk with us afterwards, 
 Comtesse?" he asked me, presently, in a low 
 voice, his eyes still twinkling; "because, if so, 
 I advise you to fortify your nerve with a little 
 orange brandy I see they are handing now," 
 and he began the champagne. 
 
 " Oh, I am so sorry about the whole thing. I 
 think it is perfectly dreadful," I said, "and 
 and I do hope you are not really hurt." 
 
 He showed me his wrist. His silk shirt-sleeve 
 was wet with blood, and his arm also had streaks 
 on it, and just under the skin were two or three 
 small, black lumps. 
 
 "I can't tell you how sorry I am," I said, 
 and my voice trembled. I felt I wanted to take 
 his arm and wash the blood off, and caress it, 
 and tell him how it grieved me that he should 
 
 168 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 be wounded and by these people, too. I would 
 like to have shot them all. 
 
 "Don't look so distressed, Comtesse," he said. 
 "It does not hurt a bit, and the whole thing 
 amuses me. A very original character, Mr. 
 Dodd," and he finished the champagne. 
 
 Augustus walked with me after lunch for a 
 little when we started. He was in a furious 
 temper at the non-slaughter of the partridges. 
 
 "By Jove! next year/' he said, "I'll clear 
 out the whole boiling, whether the mater likes 
 it or no, and have some of the people we met 
 at Harley. Thornhirst is the only man who 
 has killed anything great, though Wakely and 
 Bush did a fair share." 
 
 I told him how dreadful I thought the acci- 
 dent had been. 
 
 "Good thing it was not me he shot," said 
 Augustus. " I'd have fired back. But the part 
 I mind the most is the miserable bag. Wilks 
 is mad. We both wanted the record to go to 
 the field ; and what can we do? Only thirty-two 
 brace up to luncheon!" 
 
 I soothed him as well as I could. 
 
 Mrs. Dodd was puffing behind us. She had 
 insisted upon following with the guns, although 
 Lady Wakely and the two other elderly women 
 had driven back to Ledstone. 
 
 The yellow paradise plume and bright -blue 
 dress made a glowing spot of color on the brown, 
 ploughed field. 
 
 169 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Miss Springle tripped gayly along in front 
 with Mr. Dodd, coquettishly tapping him on the 
 arm and looking up in his face. 
 
 Giggles of laughter were wafted back to us. 
 Miss Springle is a rather pretty girl, with thick, 
 black hair. 
 
 Antony strode forward and joined us. Au- 
 gustus dropped behind to speak to Wilks. 
 
 "You must stand with me/' Antony said. 
 "I will protect you as well as I can, and the 
 chances are against the shot coming my way 
 twice in one day." 
 
 He was so gay. Never have I had so de- 
 lightful a walk. I cannot write down what he 
 said. If I try to remember his words, I can- 
 not. It is the general impression they leave 
 behind, rather than any actual sentence I can re- 
 call, which makes me feel his wit is like grand- 
 mamma's, and it reveals all the time his great 
 knowledge of books, and people, and the world. 
 And there is a lightness which makes one feel 
 how strong and deep must be the under-current. 
 
 My spirits always rise when I am with him. 
 
 Soon we arrived at the hedge we were to stand 
 behind. 
 
 It was all new to me, the whole scene. Out 
 of nowhere Antony's servant seemed to spring 
 with two guns and a stick -seat, which he ar- 
 ranged for me. 
 
 Mrs. Dodd had panted after her husband and 
 Miss Springle, who were in the most open place; 
 
 170 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 but Wilks was unable to contain himself with 
 annoyance at this. 
 
 "Not a bird will face the line if the lady's 
 dress is seen/' he said, in despair, as he passed 
 us, and we saw him unceremoniously insist 
 upon Mrs. Dodd joining Sir Samuel Wakely, 
 who was at the thickest corner, next us. 
 
 "The air must be black with the language 
 Wakely is using, I will bet/' said Antony. 
 
 And then the partridges began to come. 
 
 "There's a burrd! There's a burrd!" shout- 
 ed Mr. Dodd, excitedly, pointing with his gun 
 straight at Sir Samuel's head. 
 
 "Damn you, sir!" yelled Sir Samuel back 
 to him. "It is pure murder the way you hold 
 your gun." 
 
 " I'll trouble you not to swear at my husband !" 
 roared Mrs. Dodd. 
 
 A huge covey came over at the moment, but 
 the voices and the bright-blue dress attracted 
 their attention, and they all wheeled off to the 
 right, so that, but for two stray birds killed by 
 Antony, this end of the line found the drive a 
 blank. 
 
 Augustus's rage knew no bounds. 
 
 He came up to me as if it was my fault. 
 
 "Take that old woman home this moment, 
 Ambrosine," he said, furiously. "Do you hear? 
 this minute!" and I was obliged to go up to 
 Mrs. Dodd and suggest our returning. I -was 
 tired, I said. 
 
 171 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I'll not leave Wullie with that minx/' she 
 replied, firmly. "You can go without me, Mrs. 
 Gussie. I'll not take it rude of you at all." I 
 tried to explain that I thought we were all a little 
 in the way and had better return to the house; 
 but Miss Springle, who joined us, would not 
 hear of such a thing. 
 
 "Mr. Dodd says he can't get on without me/' 
 she said, coyly, whereupon Mrs. Dodd gurgled 
 with rage. 
 
 " I am afraid you will all be shot if you delay 
 here," said Antony, coming to my rescue. "We 
 are going to take the next beat at right angles, 
 and you are all in the full line." 
 
 "Goodness, gracious me!" screamed Mrs. 
 Dodd. "Oh, gentlemen, save me!" 
 
 And she rushed wildly towards Augustus, 
 who was coming up, her dress held high, show- 
 ing a pair of opulent ankles and wide, flat feet 
 covered in thin, kid boots, while a white cotton 
 stocking appeared upon the stove-pipe calf that 
 was visible above. 
 
 The yellow paradise plume floated in the wind, 
 the hat having become a little deranged by her 
 rapid flight. 
 
 "Gussie Gurrage!" she yelled. "Oh, do you 
 hear that? The gentleman says I'll be shot!" 
 
 And she precipitated herself into the unwilling 
 arms of Augustus. 
 
 He has not manners enough to stand such an 
 assault. His face flushed with annoyance, and 
 
 172 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 the savage look grew round his mouth. I waited 
 for the explosion. 
 
 " Confound it, Mrs. Dodd !" he said. " Women 
 have no business out shooting, and you had bet- 
 ter clear out and go home." 
 
 "I've never been so insulted in my life!" she 
 snorted, as we walked back to the farm, after a 
 confused scene, in which Mr. Dodd and Sir Sam- 
 uel and Augustus, Miss Springle, and Mrs. Dodd 
 herself had all talked at once. 
 
 "Never so insulted in my life! Sent away as 
 if I wasn't wanted. If I hadn't known Gussie 
 Gurrage since he was a baby I'd have boxed 
 his ears, that I would!" 
 
 I remained in haughty silence. I feared I 
 should burst into screams of laughter if I at- 
 tempted speech. 
 
 Miss Springle had evaded us at the last minute, 
 and could be seen once more by Mr. Dodd's side 
 as we drove past the shooters again on the road. 
 
 A meek woman, sister of Mr. McCormack, a 
 Mrs. Broun by name, who had quietly stood by 
 her husband and had not been in any one's 
 way, now caught Mrs. Dodd's wrath. 
 
 ''You've had a good deal to do with Jessie 
 Springle's bringing up, I've heard, Mrs. Broun, 
 since her mother died, and a disgrace she is to 
 you, I can testify." 
 
 "Oh, dear Mrs. Dodd, how can you say such 
 a thing?" said Mrs. Broun, almost crying. "'Jes- 
 sie is a dear girl, so full of fun." 
 
 173 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 " Fun, you call it, Mrs. Broun ! Looking after 
 other women's husbands! How would you like 
 her to be flirting with your Tom?" 
 
 (This is the spirit my mother-in-law would ap- 
 prove of.) 
 
 "Oh, it is quite immodest, talking so, Mrs. 
 Dodd!" replied the meek lady, flushing scarlet. 
 " Why, no one would ever think of such things 
 a girl to flirt with a married man!" 
 
 "That's all you know about it, Mrs. Broun. 
 I tell you that girl will upset your home yet! 
 Mark my words; but Til not have her running 
 after Wullie, anyway." 
 
 The situation was becoming very strained. 
 I felt bound to interfere by some banal remarks 
 about the scenery, and finally we arrived back 
 at Ledstone and I got rid of them by conducting 
 them to their rooms. 
 
IX 
 
 IT poured rain again before the sportsmen re- 
 turned, and they were more or less wet and cross. 
 Antony went straight to his room to change, 
 and so did the two other decent men. But the 
 commercial friends stayed as they were, muddy 
 boots and all, and were grouped round the fire, 
 smelling of wet, hot tweed, when Mrs. Dodd sailed 
 into the room. 
 
 "Wullie," she said, sternly, "you've no more 
 sense than a child, and if it was not for me you'd 
 have been in your coffin these five years. Go 
 up-stairs this minute and change your boots." 
 And off she sent him, but not without a parting 
 shot from Miss Springle. 
 
 " Mind you put on a blue velvet smoking-suit, 
 Mr. Dodd, dear. I do love gentlemen in smoking- 
 suits," she said, giggling. 
 
 Tea was a terrible function. Oh, the difference 
 to the merry tea at Harley! 
 
 Lady Wakely, sleepily knitting and address- 
 ing an occasional observation to her neighbor; 
 the rest of the women silent as the grave, except 
 Miss Springle and Mrs. Dodd, who sparred to- 
 gether like two cats. 
 
 175 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The men could talk of nothing but the war 
 news which had come by the afternoon post. 
 
 There was a gloom over the whole party. How 
 on earth was I to escape from the oppression? 
 They were not people of the world, who would 
 be accustomed to each person doing what they 
 pleased. They expected to be entertained all 
 the time. To get away from them for a mo- 
 ment I would be obliged to invent some elabo- 
 rate excuse. 
 
 Antony had not appeared upon the scene, 
 or Augustus, either. 
 
 At last at last Lady Wakely put her knitting 
 in a bag and made a move towards the door. 
 
 "I shall rest now/' she said, in her fat, kind 
 voice, and I accompanied her from the room, 
 leaving the rest of my guests to take care of 
 themselves. I felt I should throw the cups at 
 their heads if I stayed any longer. 
 
 There, in the hall, was Antony, quietly read- 
 ing the papers. His dark-blue and black silk 
 smoking-suit was extraordinarily becoming. He 
 looked like a person from another planet after 
 the people I had left in the drawing-room. 
 
 He rose as we passed him. 
 
 "Some very interesting South African news/' 
 he said, addressing me, and while I stopped to 
 answer him Lady Wakely went up the stairs 
 alone. 
 
 " The draughts are dreadful here again, Com- 
 tesse/' he said, plaintively. 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Why did you not go into the library, then/' 
 I said, " or the billiard-room, or one of the draw- 
 ing-rooms?" 
 
 "I thought perhaps you might pass this way 
 and would give me your advice as to which 
 room to choose/' 
 
 I laughed. " The library, then, I suggest/' and 
 I started as if to go up the stairs. 
 
 " Comtesse ! You would not leave me all alone, 
 would you? You have not told me half enough 
 about our ancestors yet/' 
 
 " Oh, I am tired of the ancestors !" and I mount- 
 ed one step and looked back. 
 
 "I thought perhaps you would help me to 
 tie up my wrist." 
 
 I came down instantly. If he were pretend- 
 ing, I would punish him later. 
 
 " Come," I said, and led the way to the library, 
 where we found the fire had gone out. 
 
 How ashamed I felt of the servants! This 
 must never happen again. 
 
 "Not here; it is cold and horrid." And he fol- 
 lowed me on into my mother-in-law's boudoir. 
 There were no lights and no fire. 
 
 My wrath rose. 
 
 "It must be your mustard sitting-room, after 
 all," said Antony. So up the stairs we went. 
 Here, at all events, the fire blazed, and the 
 room glowed with brilliancy. 
 
 Roy was lying on the rug and seemed en- 
 chanted to see us. 
 
 177 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Is it really hurting you?" I said, hurriedly. 
 
 " No, not hurting only a stupid little scratch." 
 And he undid his shirt-cuff and turned up his 
 sleeve. 
 
 "Oh!" I exclaimed. "Oh, I am so sorry!" 
 
 One of the shots had grazed the skin and 
 made a nasty cut, which was plastered up with 
 sticking-plaster and clumsily tied with a hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 "My servant is not a genius at this sort of 
 thing. Will you do it better, Comtesse?" 
 
 I bound the handkerchief as neatly as I could, 
 and, for some unexplained reason, as once be- 
 fore at Harley, my heart beat in my throat. I 
 could feel his eyes watching me, although my 
 head was bent. 
 
 I did not look up until the arm was finished. 
 His shirt was of the finest fine. There was 
 some subtle scent about his coat that pleased 
 me. A faint perfume, as of very good cigars 
 nothing sweet and effeminate, like a woman. 
 It intensely appealed to me. I felt I felt oh, 
 I do not know at all what my feelings meant. 
 I tried to think of grandmamma, and how she 
 would have told me to behave when I was ner- 
 vous. I had never been so nervous in my life 
 before. 
 
 "You you will not shoot to-morrow?" I fal- 
 tered. 
 
 "Of course I shall. You must not trouble 
 about this at all, Comtesse. It is the merest 
 
 178 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 scratch, and was a pure accident. He is an 
 excellent fellow, Mr. er Dodd is his name, is 
 it not? Only pity is he did not shoot his wife, 
 poor fellow!" 
 
 Again, as on a former occasion, the admi- 
 rable sang-froid of my kinsman carried things 
 smoothly along. I felt quite calmed when I 
 looked up at him. 
 
 "We won't try sitting on that sofa to-night/' 
 I laughed. "This is a fairly comfortable arm- 
 chair. You are an invalid. You must sit in it. 
 See, I shall sit here/' and I drew a low seat of a 
 dreadfully distorted Louis XV. and early Vic- 
 torian mixed style that the upholsterer, when 
 bringing the things, had described to me as a 
 "sweet, pretty lady's-chair/' 
 
 Antony sat down. The light from the lily 
 electric branches made the gray in his hair shine 
 silver. He looked tired and not so mocking as 
 usual. 
 
 "I have settled with your husband when you 
 are to come to Dane Mount. He says the 4th of 
 November will suit him/' 
 
 "We shall drive over, I suppose?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 After that we neither of us spoke for a few 
 moments. 
 
 "Did you read La Rochefoucauld last night?" 
 I asked, presently. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, why did you ask for it, then?" 
 179 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I had a very good reason/' 
 
 One could never describe the expression of 
 Antony's face. If one goes on saying "mock- 
 ing/' or "cynical/' or "ironical/' or "quizzical," 
 it gives no impression of what it is. It is a 
 mixture of all four, and yet laughing, and and 
 tender, and insouciant, and gay. He is him- 
 self, and there could never be any one like him. 
 One feels as if all common things must vanish 
 and shrivel up before his style of wit. 
 
 One could think of him as finishing his game 
 of chess calmly while the officers of the Terror 
 waited to conduct him to the guillotine. He is 
 exactly oh, but exactly! grandmamma's idea 
 of a gentleman. I wish she had seen more of 
 him. 
 
 There is nothing poseur or dramatic about 
 him. He is quite simple, although he laughs 
 at things all the time. I seem to have learned 
 more of the world, and the tone of everything, 
 just talking to him, than from all the books I 
 have read lately. What would it be like if he 
 were interested in anything intensely, if some- 
 thing moved him deeply, if he really cared? 
 
 As I sat there I thought of many things. An 
 atmosphere of home had suddenly come into the 
 room. I could almost believe I could hear grand- 
 mamma's voice. 
 
 "What are you thinking of so seriously, Com 
 tesse?" he asked, lazily. 
 
 "I was wondering " 
 180 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I was wondering if anything really mattered 
 in life; if one could grow old and remain numb 
 all the time; if things are real; if oh, does 
 anything matter? Tell me, you who know/' 
 
 "Not many things. Later, you will regret 
 some things you have not done very few you 
 have/' 
 
 " I have been reading metaphysics lately, and, 
 it seems, one could reason one's self into believ- 
 ing nothing is real. One of my books said the 
 ancient Cynic philosophers doubted for the sake 
 of investigation and the moderns investigate for 
 the sake of doubting. What does it all mean?" 
 
 He began stroking Roy's ears. He had put 
 his dear black-and-tan head on Antony's knee. 
 
 " It means a great many words. Do not trouble 
 your wise head about it. The world is a pleas- 
 ant enough place if you can pay your bills and 
 have a fair digestion eh, Roy? Bones are good 
 things, aren't they, old fellow?" 
 
 "You, at all events, are never serious," and I 
 laughed. 
 
 " I will tell you about that when you come to 
 Dane Mount." 
 
 "I wish you could have got Lady Tilchester 
 to go, then. I do like her so much. She has 
 been very kind to me. It would give me pleasure 
 to see her." 
 
 "She is a delightful woman." 
 
 " She told me how long she ha4 known you 
 181 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 since her wedding-day, I think she said and, 
 oh, lots of things about you. She seemed " 
 
 He moved his arm suddenly. 
 
 " I don't think you tied this handkerchief tight 
 enough, Comtesse," he said, again turning up 
 his cuff. 
 
 I rose and looked at the bandage. 
 
 "Why, yes. It is just the same as it was. 
 But I will do it again if you wish/' 
 
 This time it did not take me so long, but that 
 ridiculous beating began again in my heart. 
 
 "It must have a double knot to keep it right/' 
 said Antony. 
 
 My fingers seemed clumsy. We were stand- 
 ing so close together there was a something an 
 electricity which made my hands tremble. Oh, 
 this was folly! I must not let myself feel so. I 
 finished the knot at last, and then said, stupidly : 
 
 " I have an idea I should return to my worthy 
 guests down-stairs/' 
 
 Antony smiled. 
 
 "They are quite happy without you/' he said. 
 " Vain little Comtesse, -to think your presence is 
 necessary to every one!" 
 
 "I dare say. But I must go to them." 
 
 "No, you must not. Sit down in your low 
 chair and forget all about them. No good host- 
 ess fusses after her guests. People like to be 
 left to themselves." 
 
 I sat down meekly. 
 
 "I never can understand/' said Antony, pres- 
 182 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 ently, "why your grandmother did not let me 
 know when first you came to the cottage. She 
 was fully aware of the relationship between us, 
 even if I was not/' 
 
 "Grandmamma was a very proud woman. 
 We were so very poor. And then, there was 
 grandpapa's betise, which, I fancy, had quite 
 separated them from his family." 
 
 "What made her come to Ledstone at all, I 
 wonder?" 
 
 I felt my cheeks getting pink, and bent down 
 to look into the fire. 
 
 "She wanted to live in England, so that I 
 might become English by growing up there, 
 and and it was cheap. We had been in London 
 before that, and back in Paris, and down at 
 Brighton, and a lot of dull places. I remember 
 she saw the advertisement in the paper one morn- 
 ing and took the cottage immediately." 
 
 "You had heard that we were relations?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes, vaguely. But I did not know how many 
 of you there were, only that the present holder 
 of the title was a Sir Antony." 
 
 "It was a strange coincidence neither of us 
 should have caught the other's name at the ball 
 that night." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Afterwards, when we talked you over at 
 Harley, every one had got information about 
 you, it seemed. They were aH so awfully in- 
 
 183 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 terested in you. You looked such an extraor- 
 dinary contrast to the rest of the company/' 
 
 "Well, I am glad of that." 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " It was when I heard that your grandmother 
 was a Frenchwoman I grasped everything. I 
 remembered there was some story in the family 
 about a younger son marrying a beautiful Pa- 
 risienne. But it seemed to me it must be too far 
 back to be possible. And then Lady Tilchester 
 told me she was a very old woman. So we came 
 over next day." 
 
 "I wish you had seen more of grandmamma/' 
 I said. " You would have got on together. She 
 used to say wonderful things sometimes/' 
 
 "I thought her the most lovely old lady I had 
 
 ever seen/' 
 
 "Her maxims would fill a book as big as La 
 Rochefoucauld. " 
 
 "What a pity you did not write them down!" 
 
 "The Marquis and she had the religion du 
 beau. They worshipped everything that was 
 beautiful and suitable and refined. They never 
 did anything for effect, only because the action 
 was due to themselves and was a good action." 
 I paused. 
 
 "Go on, Comtesse," said Antony. "I like to 
 hear it all." 
 
 "They really believed in noblesse oblige. Nei- 
 ther of them would have stooped from their po- 
 sition oh, not a little inch." 
 
 184 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 " It is a thing we have quite forgotten in Eng- 
 land. It was inconvenient and most of us are 
 not rich enough to indulge in it." 
 
 "But must one be rich to behave as of one's 
 race?" I asked, astonished. 
 
 "Yes or remain in the background, a good 
 deal bored. To obtain the wherewithal to enjoy 
 this rather expensive world, people stoop consid- 
 erably nowadays." 
 
 "And you don't think it dreadful?" 
 
 " I am not a Crusader. Times have changed. 
 One can keep one's own ideas and let others do 
 as they please." 
 
 " Grandmamma had a maxim like that. She 
 said it was bourgeois to be shocked and aston- 
 ished at things. She believed in the difference 
 of classes. No one could have persuaded her that 
 the common people are made of the same flesh 
 and blood as we are." 
 
 "Tell me some more." 
 
 "This was her idea of things generally: first 
 of all, to have the greatest self-respect; to stoop 
 to no meanness; to desecrate the body or mind 
 in no way; to conquer and overcome all fool- 
 ish emotions; to be unselfish, to be gay, to be 
 courageous; to bear physical and moral pain 
 without any outward show; to forever have 
 in front of one that a straight and beautiful 
 carriage must be the reflection of a straight 
 and beautiful mind; to take pleasure in sim- 
 ple things, and to be contented with what one 
 
 185 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 has got if it is impossible to obtain better in 
 short, never to run one's head against a stone 
 wall or a feather-bed, but if a good thing is to 
 be gained by patience, or perseverance, or con- 
 centration, to obtain it." 
 
 "I am learning. Continue/' said Antony, but 
 there was no mock in his eyes. Only he smiled 
 a little. 
 
 "They both had a fine contempt of death 
 and a manner of grand seigneur and a perfect 
 philosophy. They had the refinement of sen- 
 timent of the ancien regime, only they were 
 much less coarse. And in the ancien regime 
 one worshipped the King and the constitution 
 of France, whereas grandmamma and the Mar- 
 quis worshipped only le beau in everything, 
 which is higher than an individual/' 
 
 "How well you tell it! I shall have to re- 
 organize my religion/' 
 
 "You are laughing at me!" 
 
 "No, I am not. I am deeply interested. Go 
 on/' and he leaned back in the straight-backed 
 arm-chair. 
 
 "'Never stay in the mud/ was another of 
 grandmamma's maxims. 'It happens that the 
 best of us may fall there in life, but no one 
 need stay there/ she used to say. Even the 
 common people could rise out of it if they had 
 a fine enough spirit. But we were the exam- 
 ples, and one must never give a bad example. 
 For instance, the common people might cry 
 
 186 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 when they were hurt. They were only lower 
 creatures and under the protection of the oth- 
 ers. They could roar, if it pleased them, as they 
 were the model of no one. But we could not cry, 
 to encourage this foolishness/' 
 
 "And so you lived and learned all that, 
 dear little Comtesse! No wonder your eyes are 
 
 so wise/' 
 
 "I remember once I became impatient with 
 some new stitches in my embroidery that would 
 not go right, and I flung the piece down and 
 stamped on it and tore it. Grandmamma said 
 nothing, but she deliberately undid a ball of 
 silk and tangled it dreadfully, and then gave 
 it to me to straighten out. It was not to irri- 
 tate me, she said. But patience and discipline 
 were necessary to enable one to get through life 
 with decency and pleasure, and while I untan- 
 gled the silk I should have time to reflect upon 
 how comically ridiculous I had been to throw 
 down and trample upon an inanimate thing 
 that only my personal stupidity had caused to 
 annoy me/' 
 
 Antony looked at me a long time. He sighed 
 a short, quick sigh, and then said, gayly : 
 
 "You must certainly write a book for the 
 training of the young. But what did your 
 grandmother say of such things as strong pas- 
 sions the mad love of one person for another, 
 for instance? Could they be rule<J by maxims?" 
 
 "She did not discuss those things with me. 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 But she did say that in life, now and then, there 
 came a coup de foudre, which sometimes was its 
 glory and sometimes not; that this was nature, 
 and there was no use going absolutely con- 
 trary to nature; but that a disciplined person 
 was less likely to commit a betise, or to mistake 
 a passing light for the coup de foudre, than one 
 who was accustomed to give way to every emo- 
 tion, as a trained soldier is better able to stand 
 fire than the raw recruit from the fields/' 
 
 " And yet the trained soldier goes under some- 
 times/' 
 
 "In that case, she said, there were only two 
 courses either to finish the matter and go out 
 altogether, or to get up again and fight better 
 next time/' 
 
 Antony looked down at me. He shaded his 
 eyes with his hand, and it seemed as if he were 
 observing something in my very soul. Then he 
 said, with a whimsical smile, 
 
 " Comtesse, tell me. And did she consider there 
 were any great sins?" 
 
 "Oh yes. To break one's word, or in any 
 way degrade one's race. But she said sins were 
 not so much sins in themselves as in their fagon 
 de faire. One must remain a gentlewoman or 
 man always, even in moments of the greatest 
 tourbillons. 'We are all of flesh and blood/ 
 she said, ' but in the same situation the fille de 
 chambre conducts herself differently to the femme 
 de qualitG.' What a serious impression I am 
 
 188 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 giving you of grandmamma, though ! She was 
 a gay person, full of pleasant thoughts/' 
 
 "She permitted pleasures, then?" 
 
 "But, of course, all pleasures that did not 
 really injure other people. She said priests and 
 custom and convention had robbed the world of 
 much joy/' 
 
 "She was quite right/' 
 
 " She liked people to have fine perceptions. To 
 be able to 'see with the eye-lashes' was one of 
 her expressions, and, I assure you, nothing es- 
 caped her. It was very fatiguing to be long in 
 the company of people who passed their lives 
 morally eating suet - pudding, she said. Avoid 
 stodge, she told me, and, above all, I was to 
 avoid that sentimental, mawkish, dismal point of 
 view that dramatically wrote up, over everything, 
 'Duty/ with a huge D. It happened that there 
 were duties to be done in life, but they must be 
 accomplished quietly, or gayly, as the case might 
 be. ' Do not shut the mouth with a snap, and, 
 having done so, turn the corners down,' she said. 
 'These habits will not procure friends for you/ 
 And so I learned to take things gayly." 
 
 We were both silent for some time after this. 
 Then Antony exerted himself to amuse me. 
 We talked as lightly as the skimming of swal- 
 lows, flying from one subject to another. We 
 were as happy as laughing children. The time 
 passed. It seemed but a few minutes when the 
 clock struck eight. 
 
 189 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "You will make me late for dinner!" I ex- 
 claimed. " But you reminded me of grandmamma 
 and the Marquis and made me talk." 
 
 " May I come again to - night to return La 
 Rochefoucauld?" he asked, with his droll smile. 
 
 "I do not know. We shall see." And I ran 
 into my room, leaving him standing beside the 
 fire. 
 
WHEN I got into my bedroom the door was open 
 into Augustus's room beyond. He had not come 
 up to dress. Indeed, when I was quite ready to 
 go down to dinner he had not yet appeared. 
 
 Half-past eight sounded. 
 
 I descended the stairs quickly and went along 
 the passage towards his "den." There I met 
 his valet. 
 
 "Mr. Gurrage is asleep, ma'am/' he said, 
 "and does not seem inclined to wake, ma'am/' 
 and he held the door open for me to pass into 
 the room. 
 
 Augustus was lying in his big chair, before 
 the fire, his face crimson, his mouth wide open, 
 and snoring and breathing very heavily. He 
 was still in his shooting-things. 
 
 An indescribable smell of scorching tweed and 
 spirit pervaded the room. 
 
 By his side was an almost finished glass of 
 whiskey. The bottle stood on the tray and an- 
 other bottle lay, broken, on the floor. 
 
 Atkinson began clearing up this debris. 
 
 "Augustus!" I called, but he did not awake. 
 "Augustus, it is time for dinner!" 
 
 191 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "If you please, ma'am/' said the valet, cough- 
 ing respectfully, "if I might say so, you had 
 better let Mr. Gurrage sleep, ma'am. I'll see 
 after him. He is very angry when he is like 
 this and woke suddenly, ma'am." 
 
 I looked at the whiskey bottles and the flush- 
 ed face. A sickening disgust overwhelmed me. 
 And there would be no Lady Tilchester to save 
 me to-night! 
 
 "Open the window," I said to Atkinson, "and 
 persuade Mr. Gurrage to go to bed when he 
 wakes." And I left the room. 
 
 All my guests were assembled when I got into 
 the first drawing-room. Indeed, it was twenty 
 minutes to nine. 
 
 Mrs. Dodd had the air of an aggrieved tur- 
 key-gobbler. I felt she would fly at some 
 one. 
 
 "We thought we should not get any dinner, 
 Mrs. Gussie," she said, huffily. "Folks are gen- 
 erally down in their own houses!" 
 
 I took no notice of this remark. 
 
 "I am so sorry to be late, Lady Wakely," I 
 said, addressing her and the other women, " but 
 my husband is not well, and, I fear, will not be 
 able to come in to dinner. He must have caught 
 a chill out shooting." 
 
 "Have you sent for the doctor? Because, if 
 not, I know all about chills with Wullie, who 
 never changes his socks," interrupted Mrs. 
 Dodd. "Let me go to him, Mrs. Gussie." 
 
 192 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "No, thank you. Do not trouble/' I said. 
 " His servant and I have done all that is neces- 
 sary, and he wishes to sleep. Let us go in to 
 dinner." 
 
 I told them each whom they were to take in, 
 and put my own hand on Antony's arm. It 
 seemed as if he held it closely to his side, but 
 he said nothing, and we walked into the dining- 
 room. 
 
 I do not know at all what we talked about. 
 Certainly for three courses everything was a 
 blank to me. But I heard myself laughing, and 
 Mr. Dodd, who sat on my other hand, seemed 
 mightily amused at my conversation. 
 
 "Why, the open air and a little walking has 
 done you all the good in the world, Mrs. Gus- 
 sie!" I was conscious, at last, that he was say- 
 ing. "Your cheeks are quite rosy and your 
 eyes as bright as stars/' 
 
 "Yes, it was a delightful day/' I said. 
 
 "Talk about chills, Mr. McCormack " Mrs. 
 Dodd's voice carried across the table "I know 
 Gussie Gurrage, and I don't believe he ever had 
 a chill in his life!" 
 
 Antony now began to talk to me quietly. He 
 said very little. His voice was particularly cool 
 and collected. He never once looked at me. 
 I was grateful for that. I felt as if I could 
 not bear to see sympathy in his eyes. He also 
 talked to Lady Wakely, on his other hand, and 
 chaffed beyond to Miss Springle. 
 " 193 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 And so the dinner passed, and the ladies rose 
 to leave the dining-room, Mr. McCormack holding 
 the door for us. 
 
 As it was wide open, and all could see into the 
 hall, an apparition appeared upon the scene, 
 coming from the passage that leads to the " den " 
 Augustus, being supported by Atkinson and 
 one of the footmen, and singing snatches of some 
 low music-hall song. 
 
 In an instant Antony had sprung forward and 
 closed the door, Mr. McCormack and the others 
 standing open-mouthed and inert. 
 
 " There, I knew it was no chill!" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Dodd. 
 
 " Hush, madam!" said Antony, sternly, his eyes 
 flashing green -blue fire. "We were ve^ com- 
 fortable at the table. Shall we not all sit down 
 again?" 
 
 Lady Wakely at once returned to her chair. 
 The meek Mrs. Broun put her hand on my arm 
 in sympathy, but I annihilated her with a look 
 as I swept back to my seat, and soon my guests 
 were once more in their places. 
 
 Then it was that Antony exerted himself to 
 amuse this company. With the most admira- 
 ble tact and self-composure, he kept the whole 
 party entertained for half an hour. And when 
 we again left the room it was en bande, without 
 ceremony, the men accompanying us. 
 
 Lady Wakely kindly said good -night in 
 quite a few minutes, and the other women 
 
 194 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 followed her example. I spoke no word of 
 thanks to Antony. I did not even look into his 
 face. 
 
 When I got to my boudoir I could hear Au- 
 gustus's drunken snores from the room beyond. 
 He had mercifully fallen asleep. 
 
 I did not ring for McGreggor. I would stay 
 in my sitting-room all night. Roy came up to 
 me and licked my hand. Then suddenly some- 
 thing seemed to give way in my will, and I drop- 
 ped on the rug beside my dog and cried as I 
 have never cried in my life, my head buried in 
 his soft, black coat. 
 
 Oh, grandmamma, forgive me for such weak- 
 ness! But surely, if we had known of this 
 horror, even the Calincourts need not have kept 
 their word to a drunken man ! 
 
 I did not hear the door open, but suddenly 
 was conscious of Antony's voice. 
 
 "Ambrosine, for God's sake don't cry so!" 
 he whispered, hoarsely. 
 
 I did not look up. 
 
 "Oh, I want to thank you for your kindness/' 
 I sobbed, " but if you would continue it you will 
 leave me now." 
 
 He knelt on the rug beside me, but he did^ 
 not even touch my hair. 
 
 "I cannot leave you miserable like this," 
 he said, brokenly, as if the words were drag- 
 ged from him. " Ambrosine, my dearest! Little 
 Comtesse, please, please do not cry!" 
 
 195 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Joy ran through me at his words. My sobs 
 ceased. 
 
 The drunken voice of Augustus began the 
 song again from the next room. 
 
 I started up in terror. Oh, if he should burst 
 into this room! 
 
 "Antony/' I implored, "if you want to serve 
 me, go!" And I opened the passage door. 
 
 He drew me into the corridor with him. 
 
 "I tell you, you shall not stay here alone 
 with that brute!" he said, fiercely. "Promise 
 me you will go to your maid's room and not 
 come into this part of the house to-night. I will 
 see his valet and arrange things safely for him/' 
 
 "Very well," I said, and then I ran. If I had 
 stayed another moment ah, well ! 
 
 Augustus was too ill to get up next morning. 
 It was raining again, and, by common consent, 
 our guests left by mid-day trains. 
 
 Sir Samuel Wakely said, with gruff kind- 
 heartedness, when I appeared at breakfast : 
 
 " I have seen Wilks, and he says there is very 
 little chance of its clearing for us to shoot to- 
 day, so I think Lady Wakely and I will be start- 
 ing home before luncheon-time. With your hus- 
 band ill, I am sure you would be glad to be 
 relieved of visitors." 
 
 Lady Wakely also expressed her regret at 
 leaving, and said a number of kind things with 
 perfect tact. 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The good taste of some of the rest of the party 
 was not so apparent. Mrs. Broun gushed open 
 sympathy and had to be snubbed; Miss Sprin- 
 gle giggled, while Mrs. Dodd muttered a number 
 of disagreeable things, and the other women re- 
 mained in shocked silence. 
 
 The men were awkward and uncomfortable, 
 too. Altogether it was a morning that is un- 
 pleasant to remember. Antony was the only 
 person unmoved and exactly the same as usual. 
 It steadied my nerves to look at him. 
 
 I had not seen Augustus, as I had come 
 straight from a room near McGreggor's, where 
 I had spent the night. As I was leaving the 
 dining-room I went towards the staircase, but 
 Antony stopped me. 
 
 " Do not go up," he said. " Leave him to him- 
 self. The doctor is with him, and when he has 
 completely recovered he will probably be peni- 
 tent. He has only just escaped delirium tre- 
 mens, and will most likely be in bed for a day 
 or two. Promise me that you will not go near 
 his -foom or I will stay and look after you my- 
 self/' 
 
 Oh, the kindness in his voice! 
 
 "Yes, I promise/' I said, meekly. 
 
 " Then I will say good-bye, Comtesse, until we 
 meet at Dane Mount on the 4th of November/' 
 
 "Good-bye/' I faltered, and we shook hands 
 calmly before the rest of the company standing 
 about the hall 
 
 197 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 But when the tuff-tuff-tuff of his automobile 
 subsided in the distance, I felt as if all things 
 were dead. 
 
 The evening post brought an invitation from 
 the Duke of Myrlshire, asking us to go and 
 stay with him for a small shoot on the 30th of 
 October. 
 
 Augustus sent for me. 
 
 As I had promised, I had not been near him 
 until this moment. 
 
 He was still in bed, and looked ill and un- 
 shaven. He was reading his letters, and glanced 
 up at me with heavy, bloodshot eyes. 
 
 "Just got a line from Myrlshire/' he said, 
 pompously, without a trace of shame or regret 
 in his voice. 
 
 "He says he has written to you, too; he wants 
 me to shoot on the 30th." 
 
 I remained silent. I did not mean to irritate 
 him, but the whole scene made me numb with 
 disgust. 
 
 " Why the devil don't you answer?" Augustus 
 raged, his face flushing darkly. " Write at once 
 and say we shall be delighted to accept/' 
 
 " You are engaged to shoot with Mr. Dodd for 
 that date/' I informed him. 
 
 Mr. Dodd was sent to perdition, and Mrs. 
 Dodd, too, and then he said, more quietly: 
 
 "Sit down now and write to the Duke. I 
 would not miss this for anything." 
 
 I did not stir from where I stood. 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Listen, Augustus/' I said. "I will not visit 
 with you anywhere, and I will let every one 
 know the reason, unless you swear, by whatever 
 you hold sacred, that you will never utterly dis- 
 grace yourself again as you did last night. When 
 you have decided to make this oath you can let 
 me know." And I left the room, leaving the air 
 behind me thick with curses. 
 
 I had one of the most distant spare rooms pre- 
 pared for myself, and when I was going to bed a 
 note came to me. 
 
 "I swear/' it ran. "Only come back to me. 
 I want to kiss you good-night." 
 
 " Tell Mr. Gurrage I will see him in the morn- 
 ing/' I said to Atkinson, and I locked my door. 
 
XI 
 
 AUGUSTUS was not able to leave his room for 
 four or five days after this. I left him almost 
 entirely to himself, only going to see him once 
 a day, to hear if he required anything. 
 
 At the end of the time his penitence was com- 
 plete, and he promised me to change his ways 
 for the future. He was horribly affectionate to 
 me, but peace was restored. 
 
 I cannot say that I felt any happier, but it 
 seemed a lull and calm after a storm. I tried 
 to be more gentle and sympathetic to him and 
 to take more interest in the house. 
 
 And so, at last, the 30th arrived, and our visit 
 to Myrlton Castle. 
 
 We had to pass through London on our way 
 there, and Augustus left me for an hour or two, 
 while he went to his tailor's, he said. 
 
 I had no money to shop with. I had spent 
 all my first quarter's allowance on books and a 
 late wedding-present to Hephzibah, and I fool- 
 ishly could not bring myself to ask Augustus 
 for more. 
 
 So I sat in the hotel hall after lunch and 
 watched the people passing by. 
 
 200 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 What had seemed a great sum of money to 
 me in my days of poverty now appeared a very 
 meagre allowance, as I had begun to realize 
 what things cost. In making the settlement I 
 had not been consulted. Grandmamma and the 
 Marquis had arranged matters with my future 
 husband, and I remember her words : " We have 
 only been able to secure for your personal use a 
 very mediocre sum, but your jointure in case of 
 widowhood is quite magnificent/' 
 
 Augustus had promised her I should have 
 everything I wanted in the world "as much 
 money as she likes to ask for, once she is my 
 wife." 
 
 It was the "asking for" that kept me penni- 
 less. I would not be so foolish as to spend it all 
 at once the next time it came in. Meanwhile 
 the knowledge that a sovereign or two is all 
 one possesses in one's pocket has a depressing 
 effect upon the spirits. 
 
 "Run up what bills you like for your clothes/' 
 Augustus has often said to me. "I don't care, 
 as long as they show the money that has been 
 put into them and you make a good dash." 
 
 So I sat on the sofa in the hotel hall musing 
 all by myself. 
 
 Suddenly a desire came over me to take Au- 
 gustus at his word. I, too, would go to my 
 tailor's. 
 
 I do not know London very well; but Lady 
 Tilchester had given me the address of the latest 
 
 201 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 and most fashionable dressmaker, and I got into 
 a hansom and drove there. 
 
 The garments were pretty, and I ordered 
 several tea-gowns and things they had ready, 
 and, as I was leaving, gave Augustus's name 
 and address for the account to be sent to. He 
 should receive the bill, as he wished. 
 
 I spoke distinctly, and perhaps more loudly 
 than usual, as I find shop-people so stupid with 
 names. A young vendeuse, who heard me as 
 she entered the room, now came up. 
 
 "Oh, this is Madam Henriette's order, Mad- 
 am Green/' she said to the elder woman who 
 had been attending upon me. "Madam Hen- 
 riette is engaged just now" and she turned 
 to me "but she asked me to tell your lady- 
 ship if you should call again to-day that the 
 things will be sent off to-night to join you at 
 Myrlton Castle as you wished. Mr. Gurrage has 
 just been in and left a message that he was sorry 
 to miss your ladyship, but would be at the sta- 
 tion/' Then, struck by some look in my face, she 
 said, "The Viscountess Grenellen, is it not?" 
 
 The elder vendeuse, who probably knew Lady 
 Grenellen by sight, was green with apprehension 
 that some shocking gaff had been committed. 
 
 For one second I hesitated, then : 
 
 "The things I have ordered are for Lady 
 Grenellen/' I said, calmly. Mercifully we are 
 about the same height. "You can send them 
 with the others to Myrlton Castle." 
 
 202 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 And with a few casual words of admiration 
 about a set of lingerie that was lying on the 
 table, I sauntered out into the street. 
 
 I do not know exactly what I felt a sense of 
 insult, principally. 
 
 I did not hate Lady Grenellen, and I did not 
 feel jealous about Augustus. But it all seemed 
 so terribly low. 
 
 She, a gentlewoman who must have been 
 brought up with every surrounding that could 
 foster the sentiment of self - respect she, the 
 Duke of Myrlshire's cousin, not a parvenue 
 beautiful, charming, and young to accept 
 clothes from Augustus! 
 
 Oh! To take a lover for love, that one could 
 understand and perhaps pardon. The Marquis 
 was grandmamma's lover, but but not a com- 
 mon person like Augustus for clothes! 
 
 "Back to the Carlton, miss?" said the han- 
 som man, breaking in upon my thoughts. Per- 
 haps I looked undecided as I stood in the 
 street. 
 
 I glanced at my watch. There would be just 
 time to catch the train. 
 
 "Euston," I said, and I swung to the doors. 
 Then, as I sat there, I realized that my knees 
 were trembling. 
 
 At the station Augustus had already arrived, 
 and, under pretence of seeing whether the ser- 
 vants and luggage were all there, he was scan- 
 ning the platform anxiously for Lady Grenellen. 
 
 203 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 His face fell when he saw me. Perhaps he 
 hoped she would have arrived first. 
 
 I could not prevent myself from speaking 
 in a voice of extra coldness, although I tried 
 hard to be natural. This was not the moment 
 for recriminations. Augustus noticed it, and, as 
 usual, began to bluster. 
 
 "What's up?" he asked, irritably. " You look 
 as white as a ghost/' 
 
 "I will get into the carriage/' I said. "I am 
 cold." And Atkinson and McGreggor arranged 
 my cushion and rugs for me, Augustus uneas- 
 ily watching the platform meanwhile. 
 
 Two of the men who had been at Harley 
 passed, and, seeing me, came up and spoke. 
 They were going to Myrlton, too, I found. 
 
 "Why don't you get in here?" I said, gra- 
 ciously, to the funny one they had called " Billy," 
 and whose other name I had never grasped. " It 
 is so dull to travel alone with one's husband." 
 
 He got in and sat opposite me. We talked 
 merrily. 
 
 "Why don't you get in, Gurrage?" he said. 
 "It is horribly cold with the door open." 
 
 Augustus is not clever under these circum- 
 stances. He has no sang-froid, and is inclined 
 to become ill-tempered. 
 
 At the last moment, before the train started, 
 Lady Grenellen tore down the platform. Augus- 
 tus rushed to meet her, and the guard slammed 
 our door. 
 
 204 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Whether they had got in somewhere else we 
 should not know until we arrived at Rugby 
 Junction, where we were to change onto a branch 
 line. I used the whole force of my will to put 
 the matter out of my head. I told myself the 
 doings of Augustus were nothing to me, and 
 henceforth should not concern me in any way. 
 
 At last I succeeded in being quite able to en- 
 joy my companion's conversation. 
 
 At Rugby we had a quarter of an hour to 
 wait. Nothing of the other couple was to be 
 seen. Apparently they must have missed the 
 train, after all. 
 
 A few moments before the branch train started 
 a special dashed into the station, and out got 
 Lady Grenellen and Augustus. She was look- 
 ing most radiant and lovely, but Augustus had 
 an expression of unease and self-consciousness 
 as he greeted us. 
 
 "Was it not too provoking, just missing the 
 train/' Lady Grenellen said, laughing. "Mr. 
 Gurrage insisted upon having a special. Such 
 a mercy he was there, as I could not possibly 
 have afforded one/' 
 
 This was the first time she had acknowledged 
 my existence. Mr. Billy chaffed Augustus, and 
 we all got into a saloon carriage together. It 
 had been engaged by the Duke, and four or 
 five people were already seated in it. They 
 appeared all to be friends of Lady Grenellen's, 
 and she was soon the soul of the party, lajigh- 
 
 205 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 ing and telling of her mishap about the train, 
 her white teeth gleaming and her rouge -pink 
 cheeks glowing like a peach. No one could be 
 more attractive, and I ceased to blame Augus- 
 tus. I could understand a man, if this lovely 
 creature looked at him with eyes of favor, giv- 
 ing up any one, or committing any folly, for her 
 sake. 
 
 Apparently, for the moment, she had finished 
 with Augustus, for she snubbed him sharply 
 once or twice, and finally retired with a beauti- 
 ful young man into the compartment beyond, 
 kissing her hand to the rest as she went through 
 the door. 
 
 "I am going to talk business with Luffy till 
 we get to Myrlton," she said. 
 
 A savage look stamped itself upon Augus- 
 tus's face. Would he vent his anger on her, 
 presently, or should I be the recipient of it? 
 Time would show. 
 
 Myrlton is a glorious place, hundreds and 
 hundreds of years old, and full of traditions 
 and ghosts, with a real draw-bridge and huge 
 baronial hall, with the raised part, where they 
 eat above the salt in by -gone days. Every- 
 thing is rather shabby and stiffly arranged, 
 and, except in the Duke's own special rooms, 
 it looks as if no woman had been there for 
 years. 
 
 The Duke is a perfect host. He seemed delight- 
 ed to see me, and soon let me know that his only 
 
 206 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 interest in the party was on account of my pres- 
 ence among them. I felt soothed and flattered. 
 
 Lady Grenellen was in tearing spirits. 
 
 "Berty, I have got her/' she laughed, as she 
 deliberately drew a chair, and divided the Duke 
 and me, who were sitting a little apart. 
 
 "She isn't at all bad, and I have asked her 
 and her aunt to come here to-morrow/' she con- 
 tinued. "I told them I was giving the party, 
 and that they should be my guests. The aunt 
 knows what for, and I expect the girl, too. She 
 has at least fifty thousand a 3^ear. But she is 
 American. There was nothing in the English 
 market rich enough. A paltry ten thousand 
 would be no use to you/' 
 
 "Oh, Cordelia, I told you I would not have 
 an American," said the Duke, reproachfully. 
 "Think how jumpy they are, and I can't ex- 
 plain to her that I simply want her to stay at 
 home and have lots of children and do the 
 house up." 
 
 " Oh yes, you can. She is from the West, and a 
 country-girl, and, I assure you, those Americans 
 are quite accustomed to make a bargain. You 
 can settle everything of that sort with the aunt." 
 
 "Mercifully, Margaret Tilchester is arriving 
 to-morrow, too," sighed the Duke. "She has 
 such admirable judgment. I shall be able to rely 
 upon her." 
 
 "Ungrateful boy!" laughed Lady Grenellen. 
 " After the trouble I have taken to get her, too. 
 
 207 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Now I am going to have a sleep before dinner. 
 By-bye/' And she sauntered off, accompanied 
 by the beautiful young man. 
 
 Augustus stood biting the ends of his stubbly 
 mustache. 
 
 No one had to bother about what the other 
 people were doing here. The guests did not sit 
 round waiting to be entertained ; they all seemed 
 perfectly at home, and did what they pleased. 
 
 The party was not large, but quite delight- 
 fully composed. I felt I should enjoy my even- 
 ing. Before going down to dinner, Augustus 
 came into my room. He hoped, he said, that I 
 had some jewels on. 
 
 My appearance pleased him. He came up and 
 kissed me. I could not speak to him, as Mc- 
 Greggor was in the room, and afterwards it 
 seemed too late. Should I leave the affair in 
 silence? Oh, if I had some one to advise me! 
 Lady Tilchester, perhaps. And yet how, so soon 
 after my marriage, could I say to her : " My hus- 
 band pays for another woman's clothes, and is, 
 I suppose, her lover. But beyond the insult of 
 the case, the disgust and contempt it fills me with, 
 I am not hurt a bit, and am only thankful for 
 anything that keeps him away from me/' What 
 would she think? Would she understand, be- 
 cause of Lord Tilchester and Babykins, or would 
 it, being so soon, shock her? I wish I knew. 
 Perhaps it is as my mother-in-law said, and I 
 am not a flesh-and-blood woman. 
 
 208 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Early next day they had come by the Scotch 
 mail Lord and Lady Tilchester 'arrived with 
 Babykins. 
 
 Most of the men were out shooting but the 
 Duke and the beautiful young man (his name 
 is Lord Luff ton), who had stayed behind to take 
 care of us, they said. 
 
 Lady Grenellen appeared just before lunch. 
 
 " I have ordered a brougham to meet the one- 
 thirty train, Berty/' she said, "to bring my 
 Americans up. They will be here in a minute. 
 Come into the hall with me to receive them." 
 
 The Duke accompanied her reluctantly. 
 
 "It would be as well to know their name/' he 
 said, as he sauntered after her trailing skirts. 
 
 "Cadwallader Miss Martina B. Cadwallader 
 that is the aunt, and Miss Corrisande K. 
 Trumpet that is the niece/' said Lady Gren- 
 ellen, stalking ahead. 
 
 The windows of the long gallery where we 
 were all sitting looked onto the court-yard, and 
 two flys passed the angle of the turret. 
 
 "Look at the luggage!" exclaimed Babykins, 
 and we all went to the window. 
 
 There was, indeed, a wonderful collection 
 both flys laden with enormous, iron-bound trunks 
 as big as hen-houses. A pair of smart French 
 maids seemed buried beneath them. 
 
 The entire party of us burned with curiosity 
 to see the owners, but long before they appear- 
 ed we were conscious of their presence. 
 14 209 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Two of the most highly pitched American 
 voices I have ever heard were saying civil things 
 to our host and Lady Grenellen. More highly 
 pitched than Hephzibah's, and that is the high- 
 est, I thought, there could be in the world. 
 
 "She is awfully good-looking/' whispered 
 Babykins, who caught sight of them first as 
 they came through the hall. 
 
 The aunt walked in front with Lady Grenellen, 
 a tall woman with a keen, dark face of the red 
 Indian type, with pure white hair, beautifully 
 done, and a perfect dignity of carriage. 
 
 The heiress followed with the Duke. She is 
 small and plump and feminine-looking, with the 
 sweetest dimpled face and great brown eyes. 
 Both were exquisitely dressed and carried little 
 bags at their waists. Their manner had complete 
 assurance, without a trace of self -consciousness. 
 
 Lady Grenellen had told us all their history 
 Not a possible drop of blood bluer than a nav- 
 vy's could circulate in their veins, and yet their 
 wrists were fine, their heads were small, and their 
 general appearance was that of gentlewomen. 
 
 I seemed to see pictures and sounds of my ear- 
 liest childhood as they spoke. I took to them 
 at once. 
 
 Following the English custom, Lady Grenellen 
 did not introduce them to any one but Baby- 
 kins, who happened to step forward, and we all 
 proceeded to lunch, which was laid at small, 
 round tables. 
 
 210 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The Duke wore an air of comic distress. His 
 eyebrows were raised as though trying to un- 
 derstand a foreign language. 
 
 I sat with Lady Tilchester at another table, 
 and we could not hear most of their conversa- 
 tion, only the sentences of the American ladies, 
 and they sounded like some one talking down 
 the telephone in one of the plays I saw in 
 Paris. You only heard one side, not the answers 
 back. 
 
 "Why, this is a real castle!" "You don't 
 say!" "Yes, beheaded in the hall." "Miss 
 Trumpet has all the statistics. She read them 
 in the guide-book coming along." "I calcu- 
 late she knows more about your family history, 
 Book, than you know yourself," etc., etc. 
 
 "What a pity they have voices like that!" 
 exclaimed Lady Tilchester. " I know Berty will 
 be put off, he is so ridiculously fastidious, and 
 it is absolutely necessary that he should marry 
 an heiress." 
 
 "The niece is young. Perhaps hers could be 
 softened," I said. "She is so pretty, too." 
 
 Lady Tilchester looked at me suddenly. She 
 had not listened to what I said. 
 
 "Oh, dear Mrs. Gurrage, you will help us to 
 secure this girl? I ask you frankly, because, of 
 course, the Duke is in love with you, and he 
 naturally would not be impressed with Miss 
 Trumpet." 
 
 I should have been angry if any one else had 
 211 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 said this. But there is something so adorable 
 about Lady Tilchester she can say anything. 
 
 " You are quite mistaken. I have only seen the 
 Duke at your house/' I said, smiling, " and a man 
 cannot get in love on so short an acquaintance, 
 can he? besides, my being only just married/' 
 
 "I suppose you have not an idea how beauti- 
 ful you are, dear/' she said, kindly. "Much as 
 I like you, I almost wish you were not staying 
 here now/' 
 
 " I promise I will do my best to encourage the 
 Duke to marry Miss Trumpet, if you wish it," 
 I said. " I think he knows it is a necessity from 
 what he said to me." 
 
 "Then I shall carry you up-stairs this after- 
 noon out of harm's way," she said, with her ex- 
 quisite smile. "Berty always gives me a dear 
 little sitting-room next my room, and we can 
 have a regular school-girls' chat over the fire." 
 
 Nothing could have pleased me better. I would 
 rather talk to this dear lady than any Duke in 
 the world. 
 
 After lunch some introductions were gone 
 through. 
 
 "Now I am proud to be presented to you/' 
 said the aunt to Lady Tilchester, with perfect 
 composure. "We have heard a great deal of 
 you in our country, and my niece, Miss Trum- 
 pet, has always had the greatest admiration for 
 your photograph." 
 
 The niece, meanwhile, talked to me, 
 212 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 There is something so fresh and engaging 
 about her that in a few moments one almost 
 forgot her terrible voice. 
 
 "Why, it does seem strange/' she said, "with 
 the veneration we have in America for really 
 old things, to hear the Duke" (she does not 
 quite say Book, like the aunt. It sounds more 
 like Juke) "call this castle an old 'stone-heap/ 
 lam just longing to see the place his ancestor 
 was beheaded upon in May, 1485. The Duke 
 hardly seems to know about it, but I have been 
 led to expect, from the guide-book, that I should 
 see the blood on the stones." 
 
 The beautiful young man, Lord Luffton, now 
 engaged her in conversation, and as Lady Til- 
 chester and I left the hall both he and the Duke 
 were escorting Miss Trumpet to the dais no 
 doubt to turn up the carpet and search for the 
 traditional blood upon the steps. 
 
 "They are the most wonderful nation," Lady 
 Tilchester said, as she linked her arm in mine. 
 "Here is a girl looking as well bred as any of 
 us more so than most of us probably beauti- 
 fully educated, and accomplished, too, and whose 
 father began as a common navvy or miner out 
 in the West. The mother is dead she took in 
 washing, Cordelia says and yet she was the 
 sister of Miss Martina B. Cadwallader ! How on 
 earth do they manage to look like this?" 
 
 "It is wonderful, certainly. It must be the 
 climate," I hazarded. 
 
 213 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " We cannot do it in England. Think of the 
 terrible creature a girl with such parentage 
 would be here. Picture her ankles and hands! 
 And the self-consciousness, or the swagger, this 
 situation would display!" 
 
 I thought of Mrs. Dodd and the Gurrage com- 
 mercial relations generally 
 
 "Yes, indeed/' I said. 
 
 "They are so adaptable/' she continued. "It 
 does not seem to matter into what nation they 
 marry, they seem to assimilate and fit into their 
 places. When this little thing is a duchess, you 
 will see she will fulfil the position to a tee. 
 Berty will be very lucky if he secures her/' 
 
 " I think Lord Luffton will be a much greater 
 stumbling-block than I shall/' I laughed. "Per- 
 haps he likes the idea of fifty thousand a year, 
 too/' 
 
 " Oh, Cordelia will see about that. Baby kins, 
 who knows everything, tells me she has fallen 
 wildly in love with Luffy. He has only arrived 
 back from the war about a week. And she will 
 not let any other woman interfere with her. I 
 had heard another story about her in Scotland. 
 They told me she was having an affair with 
 some " she stopped suddenly, no doubt remem- 
 bering to whom she was talking "foreigner." 
 She ended the sentence with perfect tact. 
 
 The little sitting-room is in a turret and is 
 octagon-shaped, a dainty, charming, old-world 
 room that grandmamma might have lived in. 
 
 214 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 We drew two chairs up to the fire and sat 
 down cosily. 
 
 How kind and gracious and altogether charm- 
 ing this woman can be! Again I can only com- 
 pare her to the sun's rays, so warm and com- 
 fortable she makes one feel. There is a noble- 
 ness and a loftiness about her which causes 
 even ordinary things she says to sound like 
 fine sentiments. No wonder Mr. Budge adores 
 her. 
 
 We spoke very little of people. She told me 
 of her interests and all the schemes to benefit 
 mankind she has in hand. At last she said : 
 
 " You have not been to Dane Mount yet, have 
 you?" 
 
 "No. We are going there on Monday, after 
 we leave here." 
 
 " It will interest you deeply, I am sure." And 
 she looked into the fire. " Antony stayed with 
 you, did he not?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, and my voice sounded strained, 
 remembering that terrible visit. 
 
 She was silent for a few moments. 
 
 "I want you to be friends with me, dear/' 
 she said, so gently. " You are, perhaps, not al- 
 ways quite happy, and if ever I can do anything 
 for you I want you to know I will." 
 
 "Oh, dear LadyTilchester," I said, "you have 
 been so kind and good to me already I shall 
 never forget it. And I am a stranger, too, and 
 yet you have troubled about me." 
 
 215 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I liked you from the first moment we met, 
 at the Tilchester ball. And Antony is so inter- 
 ested in you, and we are such dear old friends 
 I should always be prejudiced in favor of any 
 one he thought worth liking." 
 
 There were numbers of things I wished to ask 
 her, but somehow my tongue felt tied. It was 
 almost a relief when she turned the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 Soon the daylight faded and the servants 
 brought lamps. 
 
 " It is almost five/' she said, at last. " What 
 a happy afternoon we have had! I know you 
 ever so much better now, dear. Well, I suppose 
 the time has come to put on tea-gowns and de- 
 scend to see how affairs are progressing/' 
 
 I rose. 
 
 "I am going to call you Ambrosine/' she 
 said, and she kissed me. "I am not given 
 to sudden friendships, but there is something 
 about your eyes that touches me. Oh, dear, I 
 hope fate will not force you to commit some mid- 
 summer madness as I did, to regret to the end of 
 your days!" 
 
 All the way to my room her words puzzled me. 
 What could she mean? 
 
XII 
 
 THE scene was picturesque and pretty as I 
 looked at it from the gallery that crosses the 
 hall. 
 
 Tea was laid out on a large, low table, with 
 plates and jam and cakes and muffins a nice, 
 comfortable, substantial meal. A fire of whole 
 logs burned in the colossal, open chimney. The 
 huge, heavily shaded lamps concentrated all the 
 light beneath them, viewed from above. 
 
 And like a group of summer-flowers the wom- 
 en, in their light and fluffy tea-gowns, added 
 the touch of grace to the heavy darkness of the 
 old stone walls. I paused a while and watched 
 them. 
 
 Lady Grenellen, gorgeous as a sultana, seemed 
 to have collected all the cushions to enhance 
 her comfort as she lay back in a low, deep sofa. 
 Augustus sat beside her. From here one could 
 not see his ugliness, and the dark claret color 
 of his smoking -suit rather set off her gown. 
 She had the most alluring expression upon her 
 face, which just caught the light. His attitude 
 was humble. The storm, for the present, was 
 over between them. 
 
 217 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Two other women, the heiress, Baby kins, and 
 Lord Tilchester, and several young men sat round 
 the table like children eating their bread-and- 
 jam. 
 
 The Duke and Miss Martina B. Cadwallader 
 were examining the armor. Some one was 
 playing the piano softly. Merry laughter float- 
 ed upward. I doubt if any other country could 
 produce such a scene. It would have pleased 
 grandmamma. 
 
 " Why, by the stars and stripes, there is a ghost 
 in the gallery!" exclaimed Miss Corrisande K. 
 Trumpet, pointing to me. The faint glimmer 
 of my white velvet tea-gown must have caught 
 her eyes as I moved away. 
 
 "No, I am not a ghost," I called, "and I am 
 coming down to eat hot muffins." So I crossed 
 and descended the turret stairs. 
 
 Lady Tilchester had not appeared yet. 
 
 I sat down at the table next " Billy. " It was all 
 so gay and friendly no one could feel depressed. 
 
 Viewed close, Miss Trumpet was, for her age, 
 too splendidly attired. She looked prettier in her 
 simple travelling-dress. But her spirits and her 
 repartee left nothing to be desired. She kept us 
 all amused, and, whether Lady Grenellen would 
 eventually permit it or no, Lord Luffton seemed 
 immensely 6pris with her now. 
 
 There was only one other girl at the table, 
 Lady Agatha de Champion, and her slouching, 
 stooping figure and fuzzled hair did not show to 
 
 218 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 advantage beside the heiress's upright, rounded 
 shape and well-brushed waves. 
 
 " Where have you been all the afternoon?" de- 
 manded the Duke, reproachfully, over my shoul- 
 der. "I searched everywhere down-stairs, and 
 finally sent to your room, but your maid knew 
 nothing of you/' 
 
 "I have been sitting with Lady Tilchester in 
 her sitting-room/' I said, smiling. 
 
 " Here comes Margaret. She shall answer to 
 me for kidnapping my guests like this/' And 
 he went forward to meet her. 
 
 "Do not scold me," said Lady Tilchester, as 
 she returned with him. ' " I think Mrs. Gurrage 
 will tell you we have spent a very pleasant 
 afternoon." 
 
 "Indeed, yes," I said. 
 
 "And I mean to spend a pleasant evening," 
 he whispered, low, to me. " As soon as you have 
 eaten that horrid muffin I shall carry you off 
 to see my pictures." 
 
 I looked at Lady Tilchester. What would she 
 wish me to do? 
 
 "Impress upon him the necessity of being 
 charming to the heiress. You were quite right. 
 He has a serious rival," she whispered, and we 
 walked off. 
 
 The Duke can be agreeable in his unattrac- 
 tive, lackadaisical way. He is so full of informa- 
 tion, not of the statistical kind like Miss Trum- 
 pet, but the result of immense cultivation-. 
 
 219 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "What do you think of my heiress?" he said, 
 at last, as we paused beneath a Tintoretto. I 
 said everything suitable and encouraging I could 
 think of. 
 
 "I am quite pleased with her/' he allowed, 
 "but I fear she will not be content with the role 
 I had planned out for my Duchess. She is 
 too individual. I feel it is I who would sub- 
 side and attend to the nurseries and the spring 
 cleaning. However, I mean to go through with 
 it, although I am in a hideous position, because, 
 you know, I am falling very deeply in love with 
 you/' 
 
 "How inconvenient for you!" I said, smiling. 
 " But please do not let that interfere with your 
 prospects. You must attend to the subject of 
 pleasing the heiress, as I see great signs of Lord 
 Luff ton cutting the ground from under your feet." 
 
 He stared at me incredulously. 
 
 "Luffy!" he said, aghast. "Oh, but Cordelia 
 would take care of that. He is her friend." 
 
 "Oh, how you amuse me, all of you," I said, 
 laughing, " with your loves and your jealousies 
 and your little arrangements! Every one two 
 and two; every one with a 'friend/' 
 
 "Anyway, we are not wearyingly faithful." 
 
 "No; but to a stranger you ought to issue a 
 kind of guide-book 'Trespassers will be prose- 
 cuted' here, 'A change would be welcomed' 
 there, etc." 
 
 "Ton my word new editions would have 
 220 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 to come out every three months, then. In the 
 space of a year you would find a general shuffle 
 had taken place." 
 
 "Shall you let your Duchess have a 'friend '?" 
 I asked. 
 
 He mused a little. 
 
 " Could I have found my cow brewer's daugh- 
 ter, she would have been too virtuously middle 
 class to have thought of such a thing. And if 
 I take this American well, the Americans are 
 so new a nation they have still a moral sense. 
 So I think I am pretty safe." 
 
 "Old nations are deficient in this quality, 
 then?" 
 
 "Yes. Artificial things are more worn out, 
 and they get back nearer to nature." 
 
 "But you would object to a 'friend'?" 
 
 "Considerably, until the succession was firm- 
 ly secured. After that, I suppose, my Duchess 
 might please herself. She probably would, too, 
 without consulting me.- You don't see the whole 
 of your neighbors eating cake and remain content 
 with your own monotonous bread-and-butter." 
 
 This appeared to be very true. He continued 
 in a meditative way : 
 
 " Because a few what we call civilized nations 
 have set up a standard of morality for them- 
 selves, that does not change the ways of human 
 nature. What we call morality has no existence 
 in the natural world." 
 
 " Why should the respectable middle - class 
 221 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 brewer's daughter have so strong a sense of 
 it, then?" I asked. 
 
 " Because propriety is their god from one gen- 
 eration to another. You can almost overcome 
 nature with a god sometimes. Babykins has a 
 theory that the food we eat makes a difference 
 in the ways of our class, but I don't believe that. 
 It is because we hunt and shoot and live lives 
 of inclination, not compulsion, like the middle 
 classes, and so we get back nearer to nature." 
 
 "You are a sophist, I fear," I said, smiling. 
 " See, here is Miss Martina B. Cadwallader ad- 
 vancing upon us. Stern virtue is on every line 
 of her face, anyway!" 
 
 "Pardon me, Book," she said, "but the guide 
 to Myrlton I purchased at the station gave me 
 to understand I should find a second portrait of 
 Queen Elizabeth in this gallery. I cannot see 
 it. Would you be good enough to indicate the 
 picture to me?" 
 
 "Oh, that was a duplicate," said the Duke, 
 resignedly. "I sold it at Christie's last year. 
 It brought me in ten thousand pounds more 
 than it was worth. I lived in comfort upon it 
 for quite six months." 
 
 "You don't say!" said Miss Martina B. Cad- 
 wallader. 
 
 Before the party said good-night, the mean- 
 est observer could have told that things were 
 going at sixes and sevens, no one doing ex- 
 actly what was expected of them. 
 
 222 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Signs of disturbance showed as early as the 
 few minutes before dinner. 
 
 Lord Luffton was openly seeking the society of 
 the heiress, with no regard to the blandishments 
 of Lady Grenellen. But by half-past eleven the 
 clouds had spread all round. 
 
 Augustus, perhaps, looked the most upset. 
 He had spent an evening on thorns of jeal- 
 ousy. First, snubbed sharply by the fair Cor- 
 delia; then, having to witness her ineffectual 
 attempts to detach Lord Luffton from Miss 
 Trumpet. 
 
 The Duke, while devoting himself to me, could 
 not quite conceal his annoyance at the turn af- 
 fairs were taking. 
 
 Miss Martina B. Cadwallader was plainly ir- 
 ritated with her niece for not attending to the 
 business they had come for. Babykins was ex- 
 erting her mosquito propensities and stinging 
 every one all round. In fact, only the few cas- 
 ual guests, who did not count one way or an- 
 other, seemed calm and undisturbed. 
 
 "It is really provoking/' Lady Tilchester said 
 to me. "What on earth did they ask Luffy 
 here for? He is noted for this sort of thing, 
 and, of course, posing as a war hero adds an 
 extra lustre to his charms/' 
 
 The only two people supremely unconscious of 
 delinquencies were the causes of all the trouble 
 Lord Luffton and Miss Trumpet. 
 
 They had gone off to look at the pictures 
 223 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 in the long gallery, and at twenty minutes to 
 twelve were nowhere to be seen. 
 
 Lady Glenellen's eyes flashed ominously. 
 
 "Let us go to bed," she said. "Berty, why 
 don't you have the lights turned out?" 
 
 Fortunately the aunt did not hear this remark. 
 As her face showed, she was quite capable of a 
 sharp reply to anything, and though, no doubt, an- 
 noyed with the niece, would certainly defend her. 
 
 "We had better go and look for them,*' said 
 the Duke. 
 
 "Perhaps they have fallen down the oubli- 
 ette/' suggested Baby kins. 
 
 " You don't tell me there is danger?" demanded 
 Miss Martina B. Cadwallader, anxiously. "On 
 this trip I am answerable to her poppa for Cor- 
 risande's safety." 
 
 We started, more or less in a body, towards the 
 gallery, Lady Tilchester, with her usual tact, 
 stopping to point out any notable picture or 
 tapestry to the aunt on the way, so that the 
 search should not look too pointed. 
 
 In the farthest corner, perched on a high win- 
 dow-seat that must have required a knowledge 
 of vaulting to reach sat the guilty pair, dan- 
 gling their feet. Anything more engaging than 
 Miss Trumpet looked could not be imagined. 
 The tiniest pink satin slippers peeped out of bil- 
 lows of exquisite dessous. Her little face seemed 
 a mass of dimpling smiles. Not a trace of em- 
 barrassment appeared in her manner. 
 
 224 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I say, Duke/' she called, "you have got a 
 sweet place here. We have been watching for 
 the monk to pass, but he has not come yet/' 
 
 The Duke stepped forward to help her down. 
 
 " Don't you trouble/' she said. " Why, we had 
 a gymnasium at the convent. I can jump." 
 
 Lady Grenellen now appeared upon the scene. 
 She looked like an angry cat. I turned, with 
 Lady Tilchester, and left the rest of the party. 
 What happened I do not know, but when they 
 joined us all in the hall again the heiress was 
 with the Duke, Lord Luffton walked alone, 
 while Augustus, once more beaming, was close 
 to Lady Grenellen's side. So it is an ill wind 
 that blows no one any good. 
 
 Next day, after a delightful shooting-lunch and 
 a brisk walk back, the heiress came to my room 
 and talked to me. 
 
 She had apparently taken a great fancy to 
 me, and we had had several conversations. 
 
 "I don't know why, but you give me the im- 
 pression that you are a stranger, too, like Aunt 
 Martina and me," she said. "You don't look 
 at all like the rest of the Englishwomen. Why, 
 your back is not nearly so long. I could almost 
 take you for an American, you are so chic.'' 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 "Even Lady Tilchester, who is by far the 
 nicest and grandest of them, does not look such 
 an aristocrat as you do." 
 
 (Miss Trumpet pronounces it armZ-tocrat.) 
 is 225 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I assure you, I am a very ordinary person/' 
 I said. " But you are right, I am a stranger, too. ' ' 
 
 "Now I am glad to hear that/' said Miss 
 Trumpet, beginning to polish her nails with my 
 polisher, which was lying on the dressing-table. 
 " Because then I can talk to you. You know 
 I have come here to sample the Duke. Poppa 
 is so set on the idea of my being a duchess. 
 But it seems to me, if you are going to buy a 
 husband, you might as well buy the one you like 
 best. Don't you think so?" 
 
 "I entirely agree with you/' I said, feelingly. 
 "You would probably be happier with the one 
 you prefer, even if he were only a humble baron." 
 And I smiled at her slyly. 
 
 " Now that is just what I wanted to ask you 
 about. But if I took Lord Luffton, instead of 
 the Duke, should I have to walk a long way be- 
 hind at the Coronation next year?" 
 
 "I am afraid you would," I said. 
 
 She looked puzzled and undecided. 
 
 "That is worrying me," she said. "As for 
 the men themselves well, we don't think so 
 much of them over in America as you do here. 
 It is no wonder Englishmen are so full of as- 
 surance, the way they are treated. You would 
 never find an American woman showing a man 
 she was madly jealous of him, like Lady Grenel- 
 len did last night. Why, we keep them in their 
 places across the Atlantic." 
 
 "So I have heard," I said. 
 226 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "I have been accustomed to be run after all 
 my life," she continued, "so it does not amount 
 to anything, a man making love to me. But he 
 is beautiful, isn't he? Lord Luffton, I mean." 
 
 "Yes, though he has the reputation of great 
 fickleness. The Duke would probably make a 
 better husband," I said. 
 
 I felt I owed it to Lady Tilchester to do some- 
 thing towards advancing the cause. 
 
 " Oh, as for that, a man always makes a good 
 enough husband if you have the control of the 
 dollars, and poppa would see to that," said Miss 
 Trumpet. 
 
 This seemed so true I had nothing to say. 
 
 "Now, I will tell you," she continued, ex- 
 amining her nails, which shone as bright as 
 glass. " I have got a kind of soft feeling for that 
 Baron, but I would like to be an English duchess. 
 Now, which would you take, if you were me?" 
 
 "Oh, I could not possibly advise you," I said. 
 "You must weigh the advantages, and your 
 level head will be sure to choose for the best." 
 
 " The position of an English duchess is splen- 
 did, though, isn't it? An Italian duke came 
 over last fall, and poppa thought of him for 
 about a day. But there is the bother of a foreign 
 language, and all their silly ways to learn, so 
 I told poppa I would have an English one or 
 marry an American. It does seem a pity I 
 can't have both the Baron and the Duke!" and 
 she laughed with girlish mirth. 
 
 227 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I thought of my conversation the night be- 
 fore, and wondered. 
 
 That evening the Duke, also, made me con- 
 fidences. 
 
 He was immensely taken with Miss Trum- 
 pet, he allowed, and could almost look upon the 
 matter as a pleasure instead of a duty now. 
 
 "If you had shown the slightest sign that 
 you would ever care for me, I should not have 
 thought of her, though/' he said. "You will 
 be sorry, one day, that you are as cold as ice." 
 
 "Why should a person be accused of hav- 
 ing no musical sense because one particular 
 tune does not cause one rhapsodies?" I asked. 
 " The one idea of a man seems to be, if a woman 
 does not adore him personally, it is because 
 she is as cold as ice. Surely that is illogical." 
 
 He looked at me very straightly for a moment. 
 
 "I believe you do care for some one," he said. 
 "I shall watch and see." 
 
 "Very well," I laughed. 
 
 None of the people I have met since my mar- 
 riage have seemed to think it possible that I 
 should care for Augustus, or that my wedding- 
 ring should be the slightest bar to my feelings 
 or their advances. 
 
 "You are a dangerously attractive woman, 
 you know one's idea of what a lady ought to 
 look like. And you move with a grace one never 
 sees now. And your eyes your eyes are the 
 
 228 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 eyes of the Sphinx. I fancy, if I could make you 
 care, I would forget all the world. I am glad you 
 are going to-morrow/' 
 
 "I understood you to say you were greatly 
 attracted by Miss Trumpet/' I said, demurely. 
 
 And so the evening passed. 
 
 "I think it is going all right/' Lady Tilches- 
 ter said to me as we walked up-stairs together. 
 "They are making arrangements to meet in 
 London, and Luffy has not been asked to join 
 the theatre-party." 
 
 " No. He is going to lunch and to take them 
 to skate," I said. 
 
 " Oh, the clever girl!" and she laughed. "But 
 I expect she will decide to be a duchess, in the 
 end." 
 
 "If you could tell her anything especially 
 splendid about her position at the Coronation 
 next year, should she accept the Duke, I am 
 sure it would have an effect." 
 
 " Cordelia is behaving like a fool about it. 
 She asked them here, and made all the arrange- 
 ments, and now is absolutely uncivil to them." 
 
 "How flattered Lord Luffton ought to be!" 
 I laughed. 
 
 "Yes, if it were any one else; but Cordelia 
 has too many fancies. How glad one should 
 be that one has other interests in life! Really, 
 when I look round at most of my friends, I feel 
 thankful. Perhaps, otherwise, I should have been 
 as they are." 
 
 229 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Augustus had greatly profited by Lord Luff- 
 ton's defection. Whether it was to make the 
 latter jealous, I do not know, but Lady Grenel- 
 len had been remarkably gracious to him all the 
 evening. 
 
 I learned, casually, that she was to be the 
 fourth at Dane Mount. 
 
 "We shall be such a little party/' she said. 
 "Only myself and you and your husband. I 
 asked Antony to take me in, as it is on the 
 road to Headbrook, where I go the next day. I 
 thought he was having a large party, though." 
 
 I wished she was not going; there seemed 
 something degrading about the arrangement. 
 
 I had not let myself think of this visit. And 
 now it would be the day but one after to-morrow ! 
 
 A strange restlessness and excitement took 
 possession of me. I could not sleep. 
 
 It was a raw, foggy morning when we all left 
 Myrlton. The Duke accompanied us to London, 
 and we were a merry party in the train, in spite 
 of eight of us playing bridge. 
 
 Augustus told me he had business in town, 
 and would stay the night and over Sunday, 
 arriving at Dane Mount by the four -o'clock 
 train on Monday. 
 
 "If you leave home at three, in the motor/' 
 he said, " we shall get there exactly at the same 
 time/' 
 
 And so I returned to Ledstone alone. 
 230 
 
XIII 
 
 THE fog was white round the windows as I 
 came down to my solitary breakfast on the 4th. 
 My 'heart sank. What if it should be too thick 
 for me to start? I could not bear to think of 
 the disappointment that would be. 
 
 I forced myself to practise for an hour after 
 breakfast. Then I wrote a long letter to the 
 Marquis de Rochermont. Then I looked again 
 at my watch and again at the fog. I should 
 start at half-past two, to give plenty of time, as 
 we should certainly have to go slowly. 
 
 At last, at last, luncheon came. I never felt 
 less hungry, nor had the servants ever appeared 
 so pompous and slow. It seemed as if it could 
 never be half-past two. 
 
 However, it struck eventually, and the auto- 
 mobile came round to the door. 
 
 For the first five miles the fog was very thick. 
 We had to creep along. Then it lifted a little, then 
 fell again. But at half -past four we turned into 
 the lodge-gates. I could see nothing in front of 
 me. The trees seemed like gaunt ghosts, with the 
 mist and the dying daylight. The drive across 
 the park and up the long avenue was ffaught 
 
 231 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 with difficulty. Even when we arrived I could 
 see nothing but the bright lights from the win- 
 dows. But as the door was thrown open, I real- 
 ized that Antony was standing there against the 
 flood of brightness. 
 
 I seem always to be saying my heart beats, 
 but there is no other way of describing the ex- 
 traordinary and unusual physical sensation that 
 happens to me when I meet this man. 
 
 "Welcome!" he said, as he helped me out of 
 the automobile. "Welcome to Dane Mount!" 
 
 A broad corridor, full of trophies of the chase 
 and armor and carved oak, leads to a splendid 
 hall, high to the top of the house, with a great 
 staircase and galleries running round. It is 
 hung with tapestry and pictures, and full of old 
 and beautiful furniture. 
 
 Three huge, rough-coated hounds lay on the 
 lion-skin before the fire. They rose, haughtily, 
 to greet me. 
 
 "Ulfus, Belfus, and Bedevere, come and be 
 introduced to a fair lady," said Antony. "You 
 can be quite civil, she is of the family/' 
 
 The dogs came forward. 
 
 "What darlings!" I said, and patted them all. 
 They received the caresses with dignity, and, 
 without gush, made me understand they were 
 glad to see me. 
 
 Then we said some banal things to each other 
 Antony and I about the fog and the difficulty 
 of getting here and the length of the drive. 
 
 232 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I did not look at him much. I felt excited 
 and awkward and happy. 
 
 " I am not going to let you stay here a minute 
 in those damp things/' he said. "I shall give 
 you into the hands of Mrs. Harrison, my house- 
 keeper, to take you to your room. When you 
 have got into a tea-gown, you will find me here 
 again." And he rang the bell. 
 
 Grandmamma would have approved of Mrs. 
 Harrison when she appeared. She is like the 
 housekeepers one reads of in books stately and 
 plump, and clothed in black silk, with a fat, gold- 
 and-cameo brooch fastening a neat cambric collar. 
 
 She conducted me up the staircase and into 
 the most exquisite bedroom I have ever dreamed 
 of in my life. 
 
 It is white, and panelled, and full of really old 
 and beautiful French furniture. Everything is 
 in keeping, even to the locks on the doors and 
 the bell-ropes. How grandmamma would have 
 appreciated this! And the fineness of the linen, 
 and the softness of the pillows and sofa-cush- 
 ions! And everywhere great bowls of roses 
 my favorite flower. Roses in November! 
 
 "Oh, what a lovely room!" I exclaimed, as I 
 went round and looked at everything. 
 
 "It is pretty, ma'am. It has only just been 
 arranged," said Mrs. Harrison, much gratified. 
 " Sir Antony bid me ask you to order anything 
 you can possibly want." 
 
 Then she indicated which bell rang into my 
 233 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 maid's room and which for the house -maids, 
 and with a few more polite wishes for my com- 
 fort, and the information that the room prepared 
 for Augustus was some way down the corridor, 
 on the right, she left me in McGreggor's hands. 
 
 With great promptness the luggage had been 
 carried up, so I was not long getting into a tea- 
 gown. 
 
 Augustus and Lady Grenellen would have ar- 
 rived by the time I got down to the hall again. 
 They ought to have been here before me, but no 
 doubt the train was late. 
 
 The soft crepe de chine of my skirts made no 
 frou-frou. Antony did not see me as I looked 
 over the bend of the stairs descending ; he was 
 staring into the fire, an expression I have never 
 seen before on his face. 
 
 I stopped. Presently he looked up. 
 
 " How silently you came, Comtesse ! I did not 
 hear you." 
 
 " You were thinking deeply. Upon what grave 
 matters of state?" 
 
 "None at all. Do you know Lady Grenel- 
 len and your husband have not arrived? The 
 brougham has with difficulty returned from the 
 station after waiting until the train was in, and 
 there was no sign of them." 
 
 A joy, unbidden and instantly suppressed, per- 
 vaded me as he spoke. 
 
 " Perhaps they missed the train and will catch 
 the next," I hazarded. 
 
 234 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "The fog in London is quite exceptional, the 
 guard said. I have given orders for the coach- 
 man to return and try for the next train. It gets 
 in at 6.42. After that there is one at 7, and the 
 last one is at 10.18. But they will probably tele- 
 graph/' 
 
 "It makes me laugh/' I said. 
 
 "Come and have tea. We shall not bother 
 our heads about them. They are, fortunately, 
 well able to take care of themselves/' 
 
 Antony led the way to the library, where the 
 tea was laid out. 
 
 I never have sat in such a comfortable sofa 
 or felt more cosily at home. Everything pleased 
 me. All is in perfect taste. 
 
 Antony talked to me gayly as he gave me 
 some tea. It was as if he wanted to remove the 
 least feeling of awkwardness this unusual situ- 
 ation might possibly cause me to feel. 
 
 Ulfus, Belfus, and Bedevere had followed us, 
 and now lay, like three grim guardians, upon the 
 tiger-skin hearth-rug. 
 
 "How is your arm?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh, that is all right. I had the shot taken 
 out and it has quite healed up. Wonderful es- 
 cape we had that day'/' And he laughed. 
 
 " And you were so good about it ! Augustus 
 said he would have shot back if Mr. Dodd had 
 hit him." 
 
 "Mrs. Dodd would have made a nice target. 
 One does not often come across a person 'like 
 
 235 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 that. Are ajl your guests at Ledstone of the 
 same sort as those I met?" 
 
 "No. Some of them are worse/' I replied, 
 gravely, smiling at him. " Next time you shall 
 come to an earlier party. You would enjoy 
 that." And I laughed, thinking of the first 
 batch of relations we had entertained. 
 
 "I will come whenever you ask me/' he said, 
 quite simply. 
 
 " No. You know I would never ask you again, 
 if I could help it. Oh, you were so kind, but it " 
 I stopped. I did not know how to say what I 
 meant. I had better not have said so much. 
 
 "I don't want you to have that feeling. It 
 amuses me to come, Comtesse, only you feed 
 one too well. Do you remember how I drank 
 everything I could get hold of, to please you?" 
 
 "You were ridiculous!" And I laughed. 
 
 "I thought I was heroic." Then, in another 
 voice: "I think you must have that boudoir 
 altered a little, you know, before long. I can't 
 say I found your sofa comfortable." 
 
 " Not like this." And I lay back luxuriously. 
 
 "I generally choose things with a reason, if 
 I can." 
 
 "That sounds like one of grandmamma's 
 speeches." Then I stupidly blushed, remember- 
 ing, apropos of what she had said, almost the 
 same thing. It was when she accepted Mrs. 
 Gurrage's invitation to the ball, where she cal- 
 culated I should meet Antony. That was be- 
 
 236 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 fore she had the fainting-fit. I stared into the 
 fire. What would have happened by now, if she 
 could have carried out that plan the " suitable 
 and happy" arrangement of my future! 
 
 "Comtesse, why do you stop suddenly and 
 blush, and then stare into the fire? Your grand- 
 mother was not, I am sure, in the habit of say- 
 ing such startling things as to cause you such 
 emotions/' 
 
 I looked up at him. I suppose my eyes were 
 troubled, for he said, so gently : 
 
 " Dear little girl, I won't tease you. Tell me, 
 have you read any more books on philosophy 
 lately?" 
 
 I drank the last sip of my tea, and held out 
 my cup. It was nice tea. 
 
 "No, I have not had time to read anything. 
 There, you can take my cup. You have such 
 pretty things here. Everything is suitable, and 
 it gives me pleasure. I don't feel philosophical ; 
 I feel genuine human enjoyment." 
 
 "That is good to know. Well, we won't be 
 philosophical, then, we will be humanly happy/' 
 and he sat down beside me. 
 
 I took up, idly, a little book that was lying 
 on a table near, because my silly heart had be- 
 gun to beat again, like Lydia Languish or any 
 vaporish young lady in an early romance. I 
 looked at the title and Antony looked at me. 
 I read it over without taking in the sense, 
 then the name arrested my attention. 
 i 237 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 "A Digit of the Moon/' I said. "What a 
 queer title!" 
 
 "What long eyelashes you have, Comtesse!" 
 said Antony, apropos of nothing. " They make 
 a great shadow on your cheek, and they have 
 no business to be so dark, with your light, mud- 
 colored hair." 
 
 "How rude, to call my hair mud-colored!" I 
 said, indignantly. "I always thought it was 
 blond cendre." 
 
 "So it is, and it shines like burnished metal. 
 But you are a vain little thing, I expect, and I 
 did not wish to encourage you." 
 
 His voice was full of a caress. I did not dare 
 to look into his queer cat's eyes. 
 
 "You have black eyelashes yourself, and as 
 I am of the family, why may I not have them 
 too?" I said, pouting. 
 
 "Of course you can have them or anything 
 else you wish, to oblige you. But I should rather 
 like to know how long your hair is when you 
 let it down. You look as if you had a great 
 quantity there, but probably it is not all your 
 own." And he smiled provokingly. 
 
 "If I was not afraid of the servants coming 
 in I would undo it to show you," I replied, with 
 great indignation and a sudden feeling that I, 
 too, could tease. "I never heard anything so 
 insulting!" 
 
 " My servants are well trained. It is not six 
 o'clock yet. They won't come in until half- 
 
 238 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 past six, unless I ring. You have plenty of 
 time." 
 
 A spirit of coquetterie came over me for the 
 first time in my life. I took out the two great 
 tortoise-shell pins that held it up, and let my 
 hair tumble down around me. It falls in heavy 
 waves nearly to my knees . 
 
 "That is perfectly beautiful!" said Antony, al- 
 most reverently. "I apologize. It is your own." 
 
 I got up and shook it out and stood before 
 him. It hung all round me like a cloak. Oh, I 
 was in a wicked mood, and I do not defend my 
 conduct. 
 
 "Comtesse," he said, and his eyes swam, 
 " fiendish little temptress, put up that hair. And 
 come, I will tell you about A Digit of the Moon." 
 
 I pretended to feel greatly snubbed, and in a 
 minute had twisted it to my head again. 
 
 "It is a queer title," I said. 
 
 Antony talked a little faster than usual. It 
 seemed as if he was breathing rather quickly. 
 
 " I shall give you this book. It only came out 
 last year. I think it is one of the most delight- 
 ful things that ever was written. You must 
 read it carefully." And he put it into my hand. 
 " The description, in the beginning, of the ingre- 
 dients which God used to create woman is quite 
 exquisite. Listen, I will read it to you." And 
 he took the book again. 
 
 His voice is the most refined and the tones are 
 deep. One cannot say what quality there is in 
 
 239 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 some voices and pronunciation that makes them 
 so attractive. If Antony were an ugly man he 
 still would be alluring with such a voice as his. 
 I listened intently until the last word. 
 
 "It is, indeed, a beautiful description/' I said. 
 
 " You probably are all those things, Comtesse, 
 except, perhaps, the ' chattering of the monkeys. ' 
 You don't speak much/' 
 
 "And do you feel like 'man'?" 
 
 "That I cannot do with you, or without you? 
 Yes, especially the latter part of the sentence." 
 
 I got up from the sofa and looked about the 
 room. It seemed as if we were getting on dan- 
 gerous ground. 
 
 " How comfortable men make their habitations! 
 And I like the smell," I said, sniffing. "The 
 pine-logs, I suppose." 
 
 " And the cedar panelling, perhaps, scents the 
 place a little when it gets hot." 
 
 "You have thousands of books here." And I 
 looked round at the high shelves between the 
 long windows. " And what a nice piano ! How 
 happy you must be!" 
 
 "I should have been and am sometimes, 
 still," he said. "The Duke had a good room, 
 too, at Myrlton." 
 
 I sat down on the sofa again. Antony had 
 risen and leaned against the mantel-piece. He 
 was idly pulling the ears of Bedevere, who, sitting 
 there, reached up into his hand. I never could 
 have imagined dogs so big as are these three. 
 
 240 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "Of course you went to Myrlton. I had for- 
 gotten. The Duke made love to you, I suppose?" 
 
 "Why should you suppose?" 
 
 "Because I saw signs of it at Harley. Don't 
 you remember how I carried you off to the woods 
 while he fetched your umbrella?" 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 "Well, did he make love to you?" 
 
 " Why should you think any man would make 
 love to me? It is ridiculous. You seem to for- 
 get I have only been married five months. Even 
 in a well-bred world, where they have gone back 
 to nature, they don't begin as soon as that, do 
 they?" 
 
 " You are prevaricating. He did make love to 
 you, then?" 
 
 " Lady Grenellen had brought an heiress there 
 for him, and he was busy with her." 
 
 "And you made it as difficult for him as pos- 
 sible to do his duty. How heartless of you, 
 Comtesse! I would not have believed it of you." 
 
 His voice was more mocking than I had ever 
 heard it. 
 
 "I did nothing of the kind." 
 
 "He is an agreeable fellow, Berty." 
 
 "Full of information." 
 
 "Superficial." 
 
 "Possibly." 
 
 Then our eyes met. 
 
 "Comtesse, we are not here to talk about the 
 Duke of Myrlshire in these our few minute's of 
 16 241 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 grace. The 6.42 train will soon be in." And 
 he sat down again beside me. 
 
 "What shall we talk about then?" I asked, 
 trying to keep my head. A maddening sen- 
 sation of excitement made my voice sound 
 strained. " First, I want to tell you how beauti- 
 ful I find my room. If you had known my 
 taste, and had it done to please me, you could 
 not have found anything I should like so 
 much." 
 
 "I did know your taste, and I had it done to 
 please you. It is for you. No one else shall ever 
 sleep there," he said, simply, and looked deep 
 into my eyes. 
 
 I had nothing to say. 
 
 " I like to know there is a room for you in my 
 house. I want everything in it to be exactly 
 as you desire. When you have time to look, I 
 think you will find some agreeable books, and 
 your old friends La Rochefoucauld, etc. But if 
 there is a thing you want changed, it would 
 give me pleasure to change it." 
 
 I was stupefied. I could not speak. 
 
 "Over the mantel-piece is the little pastel by 
 La Tour I told you I bought last year." 
 
 "Oh! it is good of you!" I managed to say. 
 
 "I have at least the satisfaction of knowing 
 that I please myself too if it gives you pleasure. 
 I want you to feel there is one corner in the world 
 where you are really at home with the things 
 that are sympathetic to you, so that whenever 
 
 242 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 you will come over like this it will give you a 
 feeling of repose/' 
 
 "Oh! it is dear of you!" 
 
 "You said the other day/' he continued, 
 "that I, at all events, was never serious, and I 
 told you I would tell you that when you came 
 here to Dane Mount. Well, I tell you now I am 
 serious in this that if there is anything in the 
 world I can do to make you happy I will do it." 
 
 " It makes me happy to know you understand 
 that there is some one of my kin. Oh! I have 
 been very lonely since grandmamma died!" 
 
 He looked at me long, and we neither of us 
 spoke. 
 
 "It was a very cruel turn of fate that we did 
 not meet this time last year," he said at last. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Comtesse, I want to make your life happier. 
 I want to introduce you to several nice women I 
 know. I shall have a big party next month. 
 Will you come and stay again? Then you will 
 gradually get a pleasant society round you, and 
 you need not trouble about the Dodds and the 
 Springers no, Springle was their name, wasn't 
 it?" 
 
 "Yes. It is so kind of you, all this thought 
 for me. Oh, Sir Antony, I have nothing to say !" 
 I faltered. 
 
 He frowned. 
 
 " Do not call me Sir Antony, child. It hurts 
 me. You must not forget we are cousins. You 
 
 243 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 are Ambrosine to me, or my dearest little Com- 
 tesse." 
 
 The clock struck half-past six. The servants 
 entered the room to take the tea-things away, 
 and while they were there a footman brought in 
 three telegrams, one for me and two for my host. 
 
 Mine was from Augustus, and ran : 
 
 " Hope you have arrived safely. Hear fog bad in coun- 
 try too. Impossible to get to Liverpool Street yet. Awfully 
 worried at your being alone there. Shall come by last 
 train." 
 
 Antony handed the two others to me. One 
 was from Lady Grenellen, the other from Augus- 
 tus, both expressing their annoyance and regret. 
 The telegrams were all sent off at the same 
 hour from Piccadilly, so apparently they were 
 together, my husband and his friend. 
 
 "It is comic/' I said, "this situation! Au- 
 gustus and Lady Grdhellen fog-bound in Lon- 
 don, and you and I here, and it is the fault of 
 none of us/' 
 
 " I like a fog/' said Antony, with his old, whim- 
 sical smile, all trace of seriousness departed. 
 "A good, useful thing, a fog. Hope it won't 
 lift in a hurry." 
 
 "Now come and show me the ancestors," I 
 said. 
 
 He led the way to the drawing-room a great 
 room, all painted white, too, and in each faded 
 green-brocade panel hangs a picture. The elec- 
 
 244 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 trie lights are so arranged that each was per- 
 fectly illuminated. 
 
 They were all interesting to me, especially the 
 portraits of our common ancestors. 
 
 "That must be your grandfather's father/' 
 said Antony, pointing to a portly gentleman, 
 with lightly powdered hair and a blue riding- 
 coat, painted at the end of the eighteenth century. 
 "It was his eldest son, who had no sons, and 
 left the place to his daughter, who married Sir 
 Geoffrey Thornhirst." 
 
 "But where is your great-great-grandmother 
 that you told me about, and rather insinuated 
 she was as nice as my Ambrosine Eustasie de 
 Calincourt?" 
 
 " There she is, in the place of honor. She was 
 painted by Gainsborough, after she married. 
 What do you think of her?" 
 
 " Oh! she is lovely," I said, " and she has your 
 cat's eyes." 
 
 "She is your ancestress, too, but she is not 
 like you. Do you see the dog in the picture?" 
 
 "Yes. Why, it is just the portrait of one of 
 your three knights!" 
 
 "Have you never heard the tradition, then?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " As long as Dane Mount possesses that breed 
 of dogs fortune is to favor the owner ; but if they 
 die out I can't tell you what calamities are not. 
 to overtake him. It has been going for hundreds 
 of years." 
 
 245 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 'Then Ulfus, Belfus, and Bedevere are the 
 descendants of that dog in the picture?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "No wonder they give themselves such airs." 
 
 "Do you hear that, boys?" said Antony, turn- 
 ing to the three, who had again followed us. 
 "My Comtesse says you give yourselves airs. 
 Come and die for her to show her your real sen- 
 timents." 
 
 The three great fellows advanced in their dig- 
 nified way, casting adoring glances at their 
 master. 
 
 "Now die, all of you!" 
 
 They sneezed and curled up their lips, and 
 made the usual grimaces of dogs when they are 
 moved and self-conscious, but they all three lay 
 flat down at my feet. 
 
 "I am flattered," I said, "and I have not even 
 a biscuit to give you." 
 
 "We are not so sordid as that at Dane Mount. 
 We do not die for biscuits, but because we love 
 the lady," said Antony. 
 
 I bent down and kissed Ulfus, who was nearest 
 to me. 
 
 "Now I am going to show you some Thorn- 
 hirst pictures and some older Athelstans that 
 are in the hall and the dining-room, and a por- 
 trait of my mother that I have in my own smok- 
 ing-room." 
 
 Antony made the most interesting guide. 
 There was something amusing and to the point 
 
 246 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 about all his comments. I soon knew the dif- 
 ferent characteristics of each member of the fam- 
 ily. One or two, especially of the Thornhirsts, 
 are wonderfully like him the same level, dark 
 eyebrows and firm mouths. 
 
 "This is my sanctum/' he said, at last, open- 
 ing a door down a corridor, and we went into a 
 large room with a lower ceiling than the rest of 
 the apartments I had been into. It is panelled 
 with cedar -wood also and sparely hung with 
 old prints. A delicious smell of burning pine- 
 logs again greeted me. The thick, silk curtains 
 were drawn. The lamps were softly shaded. 
 An old dog of the same family as the three 
 knights basked before the fire. It was all cosey 
 and homelike. 
 
 "Oh! this is a nice room, too!" I exclaimed. 
 
 " I spend a good deal of time here. One grows 
 to like one's rooms/' 
 
 His mother's portrait hangs over the fire- 
 place, a charming face, whose beauty is not 
 even disguised by the hideous fashions of 1870, 
 when it was painted. 
 
 " She died when I was in Russia/' said Antony. 
 
 My eyes fell on the mantel-piece. The narrow 
 ledge held three photographs, one of a man, one 
 of Lady Tilchester, and the centre one an ama- 
 teur production, evidently of a little girl with 
 bare feet, putting one fat toe into a stream, 
 her hat hanging down her back, and her face 
 bent down looking at the water. 
 
 247 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "What a dear little picture/' I said. "Who 
 is that?" 
 
 "Oh, that is the Tilchester child, Muriel Har- 
 ley," he said, carelessly. "We snap-shotted 
 her paddling in the burn in Scotland year or 
 two ago. Come, it is dressing-time. I must send 
 you up-stairs." And then, as we left the room, 
 "You look so comfortable in that tea -gown! 
 Don't bother to change/' he said. 
 
 "Why deprive me of displaying to you the 
 splendors I brought over on purpose?" I said, 
 gayly, as I ran up the broad steps. 
 
XIV 
 
 I DO not think there can be a more agreeable 
 form of entertainment than a tete-h-tete dinner, 
 provided your companion is sympathetic. Any- 
 way, to me this will always be one of the gold- 
 en hours in my life to look back upon. 
 
 Never had Antony been so attractive. Every 
 sentence was well expressed, and only when one 
 came to think of them afterwards, did one dis- 
 cover their subtle flattery. 
 
 By the time the servants had finally left the 
 room I felt like a purring cat whose fur has 
 been all stroked the right way at peace with 
 the world. 
 
 The dinner had been exquisite, but I was 
 too excited to feel hungry. 
 
 "Comtesse," said Antony, looking at the 
 clock, " there is one good hour before the ar- 
 rivals by the last train can possibly get here. 
 Shall we spend it in the library or the drawing- 
 room?" He did not suggest his own sitting- 
 room. 
 
 "The library. It is more cosey." 
 
 As he held the door open for me, there was 
 an expression in his face which again caused 
 
 249 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 me the ridiculous sensation I have spoken of 
 so often. I suddenly realized that life at some 
 moments is worth living. Perhaps grand- 
 mamma and the Marquis were right after all, 
 and these glimpses of paradise are the com- 
 pensations. 
 
 "Will you play to me, Comtesse?" Antony 
 said when we got to the library and he opened 
 the piano. " I shall be selfish and sit in a com- 
 fortable chair and listen to you." 
 
 I am not a great musician, but grandmamma 
 always said my playing gave her pleasure. 
 The music makes me feel so, perhaps, that is 
 why it makes others feel, too. 
 
 I played on, it seemed to me, a long time. Then, 
 after some tender bits of Greig, running from 
 one to another, I suddenly stopped. The music 
 had been talking too much to me. It said, over 
 and over again: "Ambrosine, you love this 
 man. He is beginning to absorb the whole of 
 your life." And, again: "Life is short. This 
 happiness will be over in a few moments. Live 
 while you may." 
 
 "Why do you stop, Comtesse?" asked An- 
 tony, in a moved voice. 
 
 "I do not know." 
 
 He rose and came and leaned on the piano. 
 I felt oh! I had never been so agitated in my 
 life. At all costs he must not say anything to 
 me, nothing that I should have to stop, noth- 
 ing to break this beautiful dream 
 
 250 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " Oh ! do you not hear the sound of carriage- 
 wheels?" I exclaimed, in a half voice. 
 
 It broke the spell. 
 
 Antony walked to the window. He pulled the 
 curtains aside and opened a shutter to look 
 upon the night. 
 
 "It is the thickest fog I ever remember/' he 
 said. "I doubt if the brougham, which put up 
 at the station, could get back here, even if they 
 have come by the last train/' 
 
 "Oh! of course they have come!" I said, un- 
 steadily. 
 
 He did not answer, but carefully closed the 
 shutter again and drew the curtains. I went 
 to the fireplace and began caressing one of the 
 dogs. My hands were cold as ice. Antony lost 
 a little of his sang-froid. He picked up a paper- 
 knife and put it down again. 
 
 It seemed to me my heart was thumping so 
 loudly that he must hear it where he stood. 
 
 We both listened intently. Neither of us 
 spoke. Eleven o'clock struck. The butler en- 
 tered the room. 
 
 "Bils worth has managed to get here on one 
 of the horses, Sir Antony, and he says the last 
 train is in, and no one arrived by it/' 
 
 "Very well/' said Antony, calmly. "You 
 can shut up for the night." 
 
 And the butler went out, softly closing the 
 door behind him. 
 
XV 
 
 BEFORE I opened my eyes next morning in 
 my beautiful room a telegram came from Au- 
 gustus a long telegram written the night be- 
 fore, telling me that it was impossible to pene- 
 trate the fog that night, and I was to come up 
 and join him at once in London, as he had just 
 decided to go to the war with his Yeomanry. 
 He could not keep out of it longer, as all his 
 brother officers had volunteered, so he had felt 
 obliged to do so, too. They were to start in 
 less than three weeks. 
 
 "I shall go by the ten-o'clock train," I told 
 McGreggor, as I scribbled my reply. "I must 
 get up at once. Ask for my breakfast to be 
 brought up here." 
 
 I was dressed by nine o'clock and sipping 
 my chocolate. 
 
 The daintiness of the old Dresden china 
 equipage pleased me, forced itself upon my 
 notice in spite of the deep preoccupation of my 
 mind. 
 
 An exquisite bunch of fresh roses lay on the 
 tray, and a note from Antony only a few words 
 hoping I had slept well and saying the brough- 
 
 252 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 am would be ready for me at half -past nine, and 
 that he also was going to London. 
 
 McGreggor had left the room. Oh! am I very 
 wicked? I kissed the writing before I threw the 
 paper in the fire ! 
 
 And so Augustus is going to the war, after 
 all. It must have been some very strong in- 
 fluence which persuaded him to volunteer, he 
 who hated the very thought. 
 
 I felt bitterly annoyed with myself that this 
 news did not cause me any grief. I have been 
 this man's wife for five months, and his go- 
 ing into danger in a far country leaves me cold. 
 But I did, indeed, grieve for his mother. Her 
 many good qualities came back to me. This 
 will be a terrible blow to her. 
 
 I looked up at the little pastel by La Tour. 
 The sprightly French Marquise smiled back at 
 me. 
 
 "Good-bye," I said. "You, pretty Marquise, 
 would call me a fool because to-day Antony is 
 not my lover. But I oh, I am glad!" 
 
 He did not even kiss my finger-tips last night. 
 We parted sadly after a storm of words neither 
 he nor I had ever meant to speak. 
 
 "II s'en faut bien que nous connaissions tout 
 ce que nos passions nous font faire!" 
 
 Once more La Rochefoucauld has spoken 
 truth. 
 
 Why the situation is as it is I cannot tell. In 
 my bringing up, the idea of taking a lover after 
 
 253 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 marriage seemed a more or less natural thing, 
 and not altogether a deadly sin, provided the 
 affair was conducted sans fanfaronnade, without 
 scandal. It was not that grandmamma and the 
 Marquis actually discussed such matters in my 
 hearing, but the general tone of their conversa- 
 tion gave that impression. 
 
 Marriage, as the Marquis said to me, was not 
 a pleasure it is a means to an end, a tax of 
 society. The agrements of life came afterwards. 
 I had always understood he had been grand- 
 mamma's lover. 
 
 Once I heard him express this sentiment when 
 I was supposed to be reading my book: The 
 marriage vows, he said, were the only ones a 
 gentleman might break without great blemish 
 to his honor. This was the atmosphere I had al- 
 ways lived in, and since my wedding the people 
 of my own class that I have met do not seem to 
 hold different views. Lord Tilchester is Baby- 
 kins's lover. The Duke has passed on from 
 several women, and, to come nearer home, there 
 are my husband and Lady Grenellen. Only 
 Lady Tilchester seems noble and above all these 
 earthly things. 
 
 Why did I hesitate? I do not know. There 
 is a something in my spirit which cried out 
 against the meanness of it, the degradation, the 
 sacrilege. I could not break my word to Augus- 
 tus. Oh! I could not stoop to desecrate myself, 
 and to act for all the future hours of deceit. 
 
 254 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 And now after to-day I will never see Antony 
 alone again. That we shall casually meet I 
 cannot guard against. But never again shall 
 I stay in his house. Never again awake in this 
 beautiful room. Never again 
 
 "The brougham is at the door, ma'am/' said 
 McGreggor, interrupting my thoughts, and I 
 descended the stairs. The fog was still gray 
 and raw, but had considerably lifted. 
 
 In the uncompromising daylight Antony's face 
 looked haggard and drawn. 
 
 "Comtesse," he said, as we drove along, "I 
 cannot forgive myself for causing you pain last 
 night. Nothing was further from my thoughts 
 than to harass and disturb you here, in my 
 own house that I wanted you to look upon 
 as your haven of rest. But I am not made of 
 stone. The situation was exceptional and I 
 love you." 
 
 In spite of our imminent parting, joy rushed 
 through me at his words. Oh! could I ever get 
 tired of hearing Antony say "I 'love you"? 
 
 "You did not cause me pain/' I said. "We 
 had drifted, neither knowing where. It was 
 fate." 
 
 " Darling, do you remember our talk in your 
 sitting-room, and of the coup de foudre? Well, 
 it has struck us both. Oh! I could curse my- 
 self! Your dear little white face looks up at 
 me pathetically without a reproach, and I have 
 been a selfish brute to even tell you I love you. 
 
 255 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I meant to be your friend and comrade that you 
 might feel you had at least some one that would 
 stand by you forever. I wanted to make your 
 life pleasanter, and now my mad folly has spoiled 
 it all, and you decree that we must part. Oh! 
 my little Comtesse, my loving you has only 
 been to hurt you!" 
 
 " Oh no. It makes me glad to know it only 
 only I cannot see you any more/' 
 
 "I- would promise never to say another word 
 that could disturb you. Oh! Why must we say 
 good-bye?" 
 
 " Because I could not promise not to wish you 
 to say things. You must surely know if we 
 went on meeting it could only have one end." 
 
 " Well, I will do as you wish, my darling white 
 rose. In my eyes you are above the angels." 
 
 Antony's voice when it is moved could wile 
 a bird from off a tree. 
 
 Then I told him of my telegram, and I know 
 he, too, felt glad that last night we had parted 
 as we had. 
 
 "Ambrosine, listen to me," he said. "I will 
 not try to see you, but if you want anything in 
 the world done for you, promise to let me do it." 
 
 I promised. 
 
 " There is just one thing I want to know," I 
 said. " That day before my wedding, when you 
 sent me the knife and the note saying it was not 
 too late to cut the Gordian knot, what did you 
 mean? Did you care for me, then?" 
 
 256 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OFAMBROSINE 
 
 "I do not know exactly what I meant. I 
 was greatly attracted by you. That day we 
 came over I very nearly said to you then, ' Come 
 along away with me/ and then we never met 
 again until your wedding. When I sent the 
 knife I half wondered what you would say. I 
 wrote the note half in joke, half in earnest. My 
 principal feeling was that I could not bear you 
 to marry Augustus. If we had chanced to meet 
 then, really, I should have taken you off to 
 Gretna Green/' 
 
 "Alas!" I said. 
 
 The footman opened the door. We had ar- 
 rived at the station. 
 
 We did not travel in the same carriage go- 
 ing to London. We had agreed it would be 
 better not. And I do not think any one, see- 
 ing Antony calmly handing me into the hired 
 brougham Augustus had sent to me, would have 
 guessed that we were parting forever, and that, 
 to me at least, all joy in the world had fled. 
 
 It is stupid to go on talking about one's feel- 
 ings. Having cut off one's hand, I am sure 
 grandmamma would say it would be drivel- 
 ling and mawkish to meditate over each drop 
 of blood. 
 
 I tried hard to think of other things. I counted 
 the stupid pattern on the braid that ornament- 
 ed the inside of the brougham. I counted the 
 lamp -posts, with their murky lights, showing 
 through the fog. I looked at McGreggor sit- 
 '? 257 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 ting stolidly opposite me. Could any emotions 
 happen to that wooden mask? "Have you a 
 lover that you have said good-bye to forever, 
 I wonder? And is that why your face is carved 
 out of stone ?" I said to myself. 
 
 In spite of all grandmamma's stoical bring- 
 ing-up, it was physical pain I was suffering. 
 
 In Queen Victoria Street a hansom passed 
 us and I caught a misty glimpse of Antony. 
 He smiled mechanically as he raised his hat. 
 
 And so this is the end. 
 
 The fog is falling thickly again. Everything 
 is damp and cold and black as night. 
 
 And I Oh! I wish 
 
 "Hallo, little woman! Glad to see you!" said 
 Augustus, in a thick and tipsy voice, as I got 
 out of the carriage. And he kissed me in front 
 of all the people at the hotel door. 
 
BOOK III 
 
THE ship sailed a week ago and Augustus has 
 gone to the war. Oh, I hate to look back and 
 think of those dreadful three weeks before he 
 started! 
 
 A nightmare of hideous scenes. Alternate 
 drunkenness and inordinate affection for me, 
 or sullen silence and cringing fear. Oh, of all 
 the frightful moments there are in life, there 
 can be none so dark as those that some women 
 have to suffer from the drunken passions and 
 ways of men ! 
 
 Augustus would have deserted at the last 
 moment if an opportunity had offered. His 
 mother made matters worse, as, instead of re- 
 membering her country as so many mothers 
 have, and sending her son on his way with 
 brave and glorious words, she wept and la- 
 mented from morning till night. 
 
 "I told you so, Gussie," she said, when she 
 first met us in London. " I was always against 
 your joining that Yeomanry. I told you it wasn't 
 only the uniform, and it might get you into 
 trouble some day. Oh, to think that an extra 
 glass of champagne could have made you vol- 
 
 261 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 unteer. And now you've got to go to the war 
 and you have broken my heart." 
 
 Augustus's own terror was pitiable to see if 
 it had not roused all my contempt. 
 
 Oh, that I should bear the name of a craven! 
 
 Lady Grenellen was also in London. When 
 he was sober enough and not engaged with 
 his military duties, Augustus went to see her, 
 and if she happened to be unkind to him he 
 vented his annoyance upon me on his return. 
 
 Had it not been that he was going to the war 
 I could not, for my own self-respect, have put up 
 with the position any longer. But that thought, 
 and the sight of his weeping mother, made me 
 bear all things in silence. I could not add to 
 her griefs. 
 
 She quite broke down one day. 
 
 " I always knew Gussie took too much. It be- 
 gan at Cambridge, long ago/' she wept. "But 
 after he first saw you and fell in love, he gave 
 it up, I hoped, and now it has broken out again. 
 I thought marrying you would have cured him. 
 Oh, deary me! I feared some one would tell 
 your grandma, and she would break off the 
 match. I was glad when your wedding was 
 over." And she sobbed and rocked herself to 
 and fro. "I'm grateful to you, my dear, for 
 what you have done for him. It's been ugly for 
 you lately. But there there, he's going to the 
 war and I shall never see him again!" 
 
 " Do not take that gloomy view. The war is 
 262 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 nearly over. There is no danger now/' I said, 
 to comfort her. "Augustus will only have rid- 
 ing about and a healthy out-door life, and it will 
 probably cure him." 
 
 "I've lived in fear ever since the war began, 
 and now it's come," she wailed, refusing to be 
 comforted. 
 
 I said everything else I could, and eventu- 
 ally she cheered up for a few days after this, 
 but at the end broke down again, and now, 
 Amelia writes, lies prostrate in a darkened room. 
 Amelia is having her time of trial. They left 
 for Bournemouth yesterday. 
 
 Am I a cold and heartless woman because 
 now that Augustus has gone I can only feel 
 relief? 
 
 One of his last speeches was not calculated to 
 leave an agreeable impression. 
 
 "You'd better look out how you behave while 
 I am away," he said. "I'd kick up a row in a 
 minute, only you're such a lump of ice no man 
 would bother with you." Then, in a passion: 
 " I wish to God they would, and take you off, so 
 I could get some one of more use to me!" He 
 was surprised that I did not wish him to kiss 
 me ten minutes after this. 
 
 And now he has gone, and for six months, at 
 any rate, I shall be free from his companionship. 
 
 When he returns things shall be started on a 
 different footing. 
 
 I came down to Ledstone by myself yesterday. 
 263 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I have no plans. Perhaps I shall stay here until 
 Christmas, when I am to go to Bournemouth 
 to my mother-in-law. 
 
 The house seems more than ever big and 
 hideously oppressive. I must find some inter- 
 est. The old numbness has returned with double 
 force. I take up a book and put it down again. 
 I roam from one room to another. I am restless 
 and rebellious rebellious with fate. 
 
 I know grandmamma would be angry with 
 me could she come back to me now. She would 
 say I was behaving with the want of self-control 
 of a common person, and not as one of our race. 
 Well, perhaps she is right. I shall go to the 
 cottage and see Hephzibah and give myself a 
 shock. That may do me good. 
 
 I never willingly let myself think of Antony, 
 but unconsciously my thoughts are always 
 turning back to the evening in the fog. I do 
 not know where he is. He may be at Dane 
 Mount, only these few miles off, and yet we must 
 not meet. 
 
 I wonder if Ambrosine Eustasie de Calincourt 
 had ever a Iover Probably and she would have 
 listened to him, being of her time. 
 
 Oh, what is this quality in me that makes me 
 as I am a flabby thing, with strength enough 
 to push away all I desire in life, to keep untar- 
 nished my idea of honor, and yet too weak to 
 tear the matter from my mind once I have done 
 so? 
 
 264 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 How grandmamma would despise me! 
 
 I think of the Princess's answer to the riddle 
 of the nineteenth day in A Digit of the Moon. 
 I am this middle thing, and it is only the very 
 bad and very good that achieve peace and per- 
 fect happiness. 
 
 "Come, Roy, away with us! Let us run, as 
 we used to do last year when we were young. 
 Let us shake ourselves and laugh. No more of 
 this unworthy repining ! There are some in the 
 world that have but one eye, and some but one 
 leg, and they cannot see or run, and are worse 
 off than we are, my friend. So think of that, 
 and don't lift your lip at me, and tell me it is 
 cold, and you want to stay by the fire." 
 
 All the blinds were down in the front of the 
 cottage as I unlatched the garden gate the gate 
 I had passed through last following grand- 
 mamma's coffin to her grave. I ran round to the 
 back door and soon found Hephzibah. 
 
 Her joy was great to see me there, her only 
 regret being she had not known I was coming 
 that she might have had the fires lit. They were 
 all laid, and she soon put a match to them. 
 
 With what pride she showed me how she had 
 kept everything ! Then she left me alone, stand- 
 ing in the little drawing-room. It seemed so 
 wonderfully small to me now. The pieces of 
 brocade still hid the magenta "suite," but ar- 
 ranged with a prim stiffness they lacked in our 
 day. Dear Hephzibah! She ha4 been dusting 
 
 265 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 them, and would not fold them up and put them 
 away in case that I should ever come. 
 
 The china all stood as it used, and grand- 
 mamma's chair with her footstool, and the lit- 
 tle table near it with her magnifying-glass and 
 spectacle-case. There were her books, the old 
 French classics, and the modern yellow backs, 
 her paper-knife still in one, half-cut. I never 
 realized how happy I had been here, in this little 
 room, a year ago. How happy, and, oh, how 
 ridiculously young! My work-box stood in its 
 usual place, a bit of fine embroidery protruding 
 from its lid. 
 
 For the first time in my life I sat down in 
 grandmamma's chair. Oh, if something of her 
 spirit could descend upon me! I tried to think of 
 her maxims, her wonderful courage, her cheer- 
 fulness in all adversities, her wit, her gayety. 
 I seemed a paltry, feeble creature daring to sit 
 there, in her ber$re, and sigh at fate. No, I 
 would grumble no more. I, too, would be of the 
 race. 
 
 How long I mused there I do not know. The 
 fire was burning low. 
 
 I went up to my own old room. I must see 
 everything, now I was here. It struck me with 
 a freezing chill as I opened the door. The fire 
 had not drawn here, and lay a mass of smoul- 
 dering sticks and paper in the narrow grate. 
 
 There was my little white bed, cold and nar- 
 row. The dressing-table, with its muslin flounces 
 
 266 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 and cheap, white - bordered mirror. Even the 
 china tray was there, where, I remember, my 
 jewels lay the night before my wedding, and 
 close beside it, the red-morroco case Antony's 
 present had come in left behind, by mistake, 
 I suppose, when the other gifts were packed 
 away. The note he had written me with it was 
 still in its lid. 
 
 The paper felt icy to touch. I pulled it out 
 and read it to the end. Then I threw it in the 
 fire. The sullen, charred sticks had not life 
 enough to burn it. I lit a match and watched 
 the bright flames curl up the chimney until all 
 was destroyed. Then I fled. Here at least in 
 the cottage I will never come again. The room 
 is full of ghosts. 
 
 On the whole, however, my visit did me good. 
 I returned to Ledstone with a firm determina- 
 tion to be more like grandmamma. 
 
 A telegram was awaiting me from Augustus, 
 sent from his first stopping - place. He had 
 caught the measles, it appeared. The measles! 
 I thought only children got the measles. 
 
 Poor Augustus! He would make a bad pa- 
 tient. I was truly sorry, and sent the most af- 
 fectionate and sympathetic answer I could think 
 of to meet him at St. Helena. 
 
 I wrote to the war office, asking them please 
 to send me any further news when they received 
 it. But the measles ! It almost made me laugh. 
 
II 
 
 NEXT day Lady Tilchester wrote and asked 
 me to go to Harley. She had heard I was alone, 
 and would be so delighted to have me for a week, 
 she said. 
 
 I started two days afterwards. To see her 
 would give me pleasure. 
 
 " How very white and thin you are looking, 
 dear!" she said, as we sat together in her sit- 
 ting-room the first afternoon I arrived. "You 
 are not the same person as the very young girl 
 who danced at the Yeomanry ball in May. How 
 old are you, Ambrosine?" 
 
 "I was twenty in October/' 
 
 "Twenty years old! Only twenty years 
 old, and with that sad face! Nothing in life 
 ought to make one sad at twenty. You 
 look like a piteous child. I could imagine 
 Muriel, with a dead bird, or a set of kittens 
 to be drowned, looking as pathetic as you 
 do." 
 
 "I know. I am ashamed of myself," I said. 
 "Grandmamma would be so angry with me if 
 she were here." 
 
 "Well, now we are going to cheer you up. 
 268 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 The Duke is coming on Saturday. He is not 
 married yet, you see." 
 
 "Oh, tell me how the affair went/' I said, 
 smiling. "It it's a month ago we were at 
 Myrlton." 
 
 "The silly girl preferred Luffy, but for the 
 last weeks they both were hanging on. Miss 
 Trumpet and her aunt were staying at Clar- 
 idge's, and they tell me it was too ridiculous! 
 Luffy lunched with them every day, and Berty 
 dined in the evening." 
 
 "You did not tell her about the Coronation, 
 then?" 
 
 " Yes, I did ! But just for once in a way she 
 had fallen in love Luffy is beautiful, you know! 
 and, my dear child, any girl or woman in love 
 is the most unreasonable, absurd creature on 
 the face of the earth." 
 
 " Yes, I know. But the Americans don't get 
 in love like other nations. She assured me 
 they knew how to keep men in their places on 
 the other side of the Atlantic." 
 
 "But the 'place' of a man is doing exactly 
 what the particular woman in the case wants 
 him to do, don't forget that! And Miss Trum- 
 pet finally decided, last week, that she wanted 
 him to be her husband." 
 
 "Poor Duke!" I said. 
 
 "Oh, I don't think Berty minds very much. 
 Anyway, you will be able to console hirrr." 
 
 " You have quite a mistaken idea there. He 
 269 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 likes to talk about himself, and explain to me 
 his views on morals as manners, but he is not 
 the least interested in me. I am a very good 
 listener, you know. Grandmamma never let me 
 interrupt people/' 
 
 "Poor old Berty!" she said. "He has the 
 best heart underneath all his silly mannerisms. 
 I have known him since he was a child. He is 
 much older than he looks, almost my age, in 
 fact." 
 
 " How has Lady Grenellen taken the engage- 
 ment?" I asked. 
 
 "Cordelia? Oh, she is simply furious. It is 
 the first time any other woman has ever had 
 a chance with her. An English girl would 
 have a rather blank prospect in front of her 
 for the afterwards. But these Americans are 
 so wonderfully clever and sensible, probably 
 Luffy will remain Miss Trumpet's devoted slave 
 for years." 
 
 Lord Tilchester entered the room, and said 
 " How d'y do," to me. He is a gruff, unattrac- 
 tive person. I do not know what Babykins 
 sees in him. 
 
 He spent his time eating tea-cake and feed- 
 ing the dogs, with a casual remark here and 
 there. At last he left. I was glad. Lady 
 Tilchester's manner to him is always gracious 
 and complacent. She attends to his wishes, 
 and talks to him without yawning. She must 
 be my model for my future treating of Augus- 
 
 270 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 tus. This is the most perfect and beautiful 
 lady in the world, I think. 
 
 There were only a couple of men staying in 
 the house besides myself until the Saturday, 
 when a crowd of people came. In these few 
 days I got to know Margaret Tilchester more 
 intimately. Her beautiful nature would stand 
 any test. All her real and intense interests 
 are concentrated upon her schemes to benefit 
 mankind, practical, sensible schemes, with no 
 sentiment about them. I wish I could see her 
 children. The boy is, of course, at Eton, and the 
 little girl is again away, visiting her grand- 
 mother. There are dozens of photographs of 
 them about, and the girl keeps reminding me 
 of some one, I cannot fix who. She looks a 
 dear little creature. Oh, I should love a baby! 
 But still I shall always pray I may never have 
 a child. 
 
 The Duke arrived with the other guests on 
 Saturday. He looked just the same. His re- 
 verse of fortune had not altered his appearance. 
 He seemed extremely glad to see me. 
 
 " You have heard how the affair went/' he said 
 to me the first night after dinner. " After keep- 
 ing me in the most ridiculous position, dangling 
 for weeks, she preferred Luffy." 
 
 "Yes, I heard." 
 
 "My only satisfaction out of the whole thing 
 is that, for once, Cordelia is paid out in her own 
 coin. As a rule, she only cares jto take away 
 
 271 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 some one who belongs to some other woman, 
 and now this little girl has turned the tables." 
 
 "How spiteful of you, when Lady Grenellen 
 was trying to arrange for your future happi- 
 ness!" 
 
 "Nothing of the kind. You don't know Cor- 
 delia. She is only afraid I shall shut up Myrl- 
 ton, or let it, and she amuses herself a good deal 
 there. She thought if I had a rich wife her op- 
 portunities would of tener occur. I can only keep 
 it open in the autumn now/' 
 
 "Oh, you are a wonderful company!" I laugh- 
 ed. 
 
 "I wish you were a widow. You would suit 
 me in every way." 
 
 "Hush!" I said, frowning. "I do not like you 
 to speak so, even in jest." 
 
 "But I always told you I loved you," he said, 
 resignedly. 
 
 " Nonsense. What is this ridiculous love you 
 all speak about? A silly passion that only 
 wants what it cannot have, or, if it succeeds, 
 immediately translates itself to some one else. 
 You told me so yourself. You said at least you 
 were not wearyingly faithful you, as a class." 
 
 "How you confute one with argument, lovely 
 lady! I shall call you Portia. But what an 
 adorable Portia!" 
 
 " Now, stop," I said, severely. " I would rather 
 hear your views on morality and religion than 
 the rubbish you are now talking." 
 
 272 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 " I have never been more snubbed in my life. 
 Even Miss Corrisande K. Trumpet did not flat- 
 ten me out as you do/' he said, with feigned 
 resentment. 
 
 "You told me in the beginning I looked un- 
 like the Englishwomen. Well, I am unlike them. 
 I am a person of bad nature. I refuse to be 
 bored." 
 
 "And I bore you?" 
 
 "Only when you talk silly sentiment." 
 
 "Then it is a bargain. If I don't bore you, 
 you will be friends with me?" 
 
 "And if you do bon soir, monsieur/' and I 
 rose, laughing, and joined my hostess. 
 
 The party this time was much nicer than the 
 former one I came to. It was composed of 
 clever, interesting people. The conversation was 
 often brilliant and elevating. No one talked 
 like Babykins or Lady Grenellen. In fact, it 
 appeared another society altogether. It seemed 
 impossible among these people to realize that 
 perhaps, in reality, they are like the rest. There 
 was not a word or a look which would suggest 
 that they held any but the highest views. 
 
 Lady Tilchester shone among them. She 
 seemed to be in a suitable setting. They were 
 mostly of very high rank, and the rest politicians 
 and diplomats. They did not clip their sen- 
 tences and use pet words, and they did not smoke 
 cigarettes all the time. 
 
 The women, although not i^early so well 
 .8 273 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 dressed or attractive to look at, were much more 
 agreeable to one another, and one was a perfectly 
 wonderful musician. Her playing delighted us 
 all. She played the things of Greig that I play- 
 ed to Antony on the evening at Dane Mount. I 
 sat by myself and listened. I seemed to see his 
 face and hear his voice, but the good resolutions 
 I had made while sitting in grandmamma's chair 
 helped me to put these thoughts away. 
 
 I felt more at rest, at peace, here. Every one's 
 life seemed full of interest interest in some- 
 thing great. I would like this society best if I 
 had to choose which I would frequent, but I can 
 realize that people as good as these, but duller 
 and less brilliant, would make one look at the 
 clock. 
 
 Perhaps Lady Tilchester's plan of having ev- 
 ery sort at her house is the best, after all. Then 
 she can have variety and never be bored. 
 
 I wonder if it is the occupation of their minds 
 with great things, in this set, which balances 
 with the "lives of compulsion" led by the middle 
 classes, and so prevents them also from " getting 
 back to nature/' as the Duke said. 
 
 It is an interesting problem. 
 
 Mr. Budge sat down and talked to me. He 
 has a very strong character, I am sure, and I 
 was nattered that he should think me worth 
 speaking to. 
 
 "I admire your perfect stillness/' he said at 
 last, after there had been a pause of a moment or 
 
 274 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 two. "I have never seen a woman sit so still. 
 It is a great quality." 
 
 "I was not allowed to fidget when I was 
 young/' I said. "Perhaps one acquires repose 
 as a habit/' 
 
 "When you were young! Why, you look 
 only a baby now ! I would take you for about 
 eighteen years old, and that is what interests 
 me. Your eyes have a question and a story in 
 them that is not usual at eighteen." 
 
 "Oh, I am ever so much older than that! I 
 must be at least fifty!" I said. 
 
 He smiled. " I am fifty. It is a terrible age." 
 
 "I dare say it would be nice to be fifty if one 
 had been long enough young to get there grad- 
 ually. But to jump there, that is what is not 
 amusing." 
 
 "And you have jumped to fifty? I thought 
 there was a story in those Sphinx eyes." 
 
 "Why do you say that? You are the second 
 person who has said I have the eyes of the Sphinx. 
 I would like to know why?" I asked. 
 
 "Because they are inscrutable. They sug- 
 gest much and reveal nothing. It would in- 
 terest me deeply to hear your impression of 
 things." 
 
 "What things?" 
 
 " The world, the flesh, or the devil anything 
 that would make you lift the curtain a little. 
 For instance, what do you think of this society 
 here now?" 
 
 275 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 "They all seem to be clever people with in- 
 terests in life." 
 
 " Most people have interests in life. The can- 
 dle would soon burn out otherwise. What are 
 yours, if I may ask?" 
 
 "I am observing. I have not decided yet what 
 interests me. I would like to travel, I think, 
 and see the world." 
 
 "That is an easy matter at your age. But 
 have you no other desires?" 
 
 " No, unless it would be to sleep very soundly 
 and enjoy my food." 
 
 "What a little cynic! A gross little mate- 
 rialist! And you look the embodiment of ethe- 
 realism." 
 
 "At fifty I have always understood creature 
 comforts begin to matter more. Each age has 
 its pleasures." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "Tell me something else about the emotions 
 of the fifty-year-olds." 
 
 "They get up in the morning and they won- 
 der if it will rain, and, if they are in England, 
 it often answers them by pouring. Then they 
 breakfast, and wonder if they will read or play 
 the piano or walk, or if it matters a scrap if they 
 do none of these things, and presently they 
 look at the papers, and they see the war is go- 
 ing on still, and people are being killed, and 
 they wonder to what end. And they read that 
 the opposition is accusing the government of 
 
 276 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 all sorts of crimes and negligences, and they 
 remember that is the fate of governments, which- 
 ever side is in. And then they lunch, perhaps, 
 and see friends. And they find they want some 
 one else's husband but their own, and that the 
 husband, perhaps, only cares for sport, or some 
 one else's wife. And then they sleep after lunch, 
 and drive, and have tea, and read books about 
 philosophy, and dine, and yawn, and finally go 
 to bed." 
 
 "What a terrible picture! And when they 
 were young what did they do?" 
 
 "It is so long ago I heard of that, but I will 
 try to remember. They woke feeling the day 
 was a glorious thing in front of them, that even 
 if they were in England, and it was raining, 
 the sun would soon come out. And they sang 
 while they dressed, and, if it was summer, they 
 rushed round the garden, and loved all the flow- 
 ers, and the scent in the air, and the beauty 
 of the lights and colors, and the dear little but- 
 terflies. And they saw the shades on the trees, 
 and they heard the different notes in the birds' 
 songs. And they were hungry, and glad to 
 eat bread and milk. And every goose was a 
 swan, and every moment full of joy, because 
 they said to themselves, 'Something glorious 
 is coming to me, also, in this most glorious 
 world!'" 
 
 I laughed softly. It seemed so true, and so 
 long ago. 
 
 277 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Mr. Budge looked at me. His face was grave 
 and puzzled. 
 
 "Child/' he said, "it grieves me to hear you 
 talk so. I assure you, I, who am really fifty, 
 still enjoy all those things that you say only 
 the very young can appreciate/' 
 
 "We have changed places, then!" I answered, 
 lightly. "And I see Lady Tilchester making 
 a move towards bed. That is a delightful place, 
 where fifty and fifteen can both enjoy oblivion 
 so good-night!" And I smiled at him over 
 my shoulder as I walked towards the door! 
 
 Next day, after church, the Duke and I went 
 for a walk. He kept his promise and did not 
 bore me. We discussed all sorts of things, some 
 interesting, and all in the abstract. We left per- 
 sonalities alone. At last he said : 
 
 "Until the beginning of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury things went along gradually. People 
 could look ahead for a hundred years and say, 
 with something like certainty, what would be 
 likely to take place. But since then every- 
 thing has gone with such leaps and bounds 
 that no one could prophesy! Though in five 
 hundred years we shall probably be a wretched 
 republic, constructed out of the debris of the 
 old order, and the Americans will be an aristo- 
 cratic nation with a king." 
 
 "What makes you think so?" 
 
 "Because when companies of people get suf- 
 ficiently rich not to have to work they grow to 
 
 278 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 like whatever will appeal to their vanity and 
 self-importance. There is a halo round a title, 
 and you can leave it to your children. A king 
 becomes a necessity then/' 
 
 "An American king! It does seem a strange 
 idea. Well, we shall not be there to see, so it 
 does not matter to us. ' Sufficient unto the day 
 is the evil thereof." 
 
 "History always repeats itself. Look at the 
 Romans, a civilized republic, and then they must 
 have an emperor/' 
 
 " And then the barbarians came and the whole 
 thing was blotted out. And so in the end, a 
 quoi bon? No one was ever benefited/' 
 
 "But the world would not go on if we said 
 ' a quoi bon ' to everything. The fortunate thing 
 is that for the time we think things matter im- 
 mensely. When people begin to feel nothing 
 matters at all, it is because their livers are out 
 of order. And when a nation becomes apathetic, 
 that is what is the matter too. Look at Italy 
 or Spain! Their livers are completely out of 
 order. All their institutions are jaundiced and 
 each country is going down-hill/' 
 
 " Poor Spain and Italy'/' I said, and I laughed. 
 
 "I like to hear you laugh, I don't care what 
 it is about," said the Duke. 
 
 "I believe if I had your great position and 
 traditions of family I should try to be a strong 
 influence in the country. I would try to make 
 a name for myself in history," I said* "I 
 
 279 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 would not be contented with being just a 
 duke." 
 
 "Ah, if I had you always near me perhaps I 
 should/' and he sighed pathetically. 
 
 "Now, now! you are breaking your bargain, 
 and talking personally, which will bore me/' 
 
 "But you began it. I was quietly discussing 
 something the evolution of the world, I think 
 when you gave me your opinion of what you 
 would do in my case/' 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 "Yes, but I am permitted to be illogical, not 
 being a man, and I am thinking it might cause 
 me an interest if I had your case/' 
 
 "I will tell you what my grandfather, the 
 tenth Duke, said to me when he was a very old 
 man you know his record, of course? He 
 was one of the greatest politicians and littera- 
 teurs of his time, but had been in the Guards 
 when a boy, and at sixteen fought at Waterloo. 
 'After having tasted the best of most things in 
 life, Robert/ he said, 'I can tell you there are 
 only two things really worth having women 
 and fighting." 
 
Ill 
 
 BEFORE the end of my visit to Harley the Duke 
 and I became fast friends, and while not pos- 
 sessing Antony's lightness of wit or personal at- 
 tractions, he is an agreeable companion and out 
 of the ordinary run of young men. He promised 
 me, as we said good-bye, that he would think of 
 my words, and try to do something with his life 
 to deserve my good opinion. 
 
 "Come here whenever you are lonely, dear 
 child/' said my beautiful hostess, as we parted. 
 "We delight in having you, and you must not 
 mope at home all by yourself/' 
 
 The roads were too bad for the automobile, 
 so I drove back to Ledstone in my victoria. It 
 was a brilliant, frosty day, the nth of Decem- 
 ber. Something in the air sent my spirits up. 
 I felt if Mr. Budge had only been with me I 
 could have told him I was growing younger. 
 My first interest when I got home should be to 
 alter my boudoir. Augustus had left me fairly 
 provided with money, and I could, at all events, 
 run up what bills I pleased. That thought 
 brought me back to the last bill I had tried to 
 incur. 
 
 281 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 What had been the result of my orders ? Would 
 the shop-people have told Lady Grenellen that a 
 strange lady had sent her the tea-gowns? Would 
 she have wondered about them and made in- 
 quiries? I had heard nothing further. I dis- 
 missed the subject and returned to my boudoir. 
 I was just thinking deeply what change I should 
 make as we drove up the avenue. Should I 
 take away the mustard walls and do the whole 
 thing white, or have it pale green, or what? 
 Then we caught up a telegraph-boy. He handed 
 me the orange envelope. 
 
 It was from the war office, and ran: 
 
 " We are deeply grieved to inform you intelligence has 
 been received that your husband, Lieutenant Augustus 
 Gurrage, of the Tilchester Yoemanry, died of measles on 
 board the troop-ship Aurora on the 6th instant." 
 
 The sky suddenly became dark, and I remem- 
 ber nothing more until I found myself in the hall 
 with a crowd of servants round me. For the 
 first time in my life I had fainted. I shall not 
 analyze my feelings at this time. The principal 
 emotions were horror and shock. 
 
 Oh, poor Augustus! to have died all alone at 
 sea! Oh, I did, indeed, grieve for him! And 
 the measles, which I had almost laughed at! 
 The measles to have killed him! Afterwards, 
 when we heard the details, it appeared his con- 
 stitution was so weakened with the quantity of 
 alcohol he had taken in those last three weeks 
 
 282 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 that he had no strength to stand against the at- 
 tack. 
 
 My one thought was for his poor mother. A 
 telegram had gone to her, too, it appeared. 
 
 I left for Bournemouth by the first train I 
 could catch, but when I arrived I was met by a 
 doctor. Mrs. Gurrage had lost her reason, he 
 told me, upon hearing the news. She had been 
 weak and ailing and in bed ever since her re- 
 turn from London, and this had proved the last 
 straw, and now she lay, a childish imbecile, in 
 her gorgeous bedroom up-stairs. 
 
 Oh, I can never write the horrors poor Amelia 
 and I went through for the next ten days. The 
 sadness of it all! My poor mother-in-law did 
 not recognize me. She talked incessantly of 
 Augustus. She seemed quite happy. He was a 
 boy again to her sometimes an infant, and at 
 others almost grown up. 
 
 Once or twice she asked Amelia if I was not 
 the new tenant at the cottage. 
 
 "She's a pretty girl/' she said, "and Gussie's 
 wonderful took with her/' 
 
 Her poor voice had gone back to the sound 
 and pronunciation of her early youth. Some- 
 times her accent was so broad and her expres- 
 sion so unusual that I could hardly understand 
 her. 
 
 They had buried Augustus at sea. A grand 
 and glorious grave, I think. 
 
 By the beginning of the new year I found 
 
 283 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 myself a very rich woman. Augustus had left 
 me his fortune, to be divided with his mother, 
 should she survive him, and if not, to go to me 
 and any possible children we might have. The 
 will had been made directly we returned to Led- 
 stone after our wedding. 
 
 Amelia received only a very small legacy. 
 
 Towards the end of January there was a change 
 in the poor invalid up-stairs. My presence be- 
 gan to awake some memories. She was un- 
 happy, and pointed at me. I disturbed and dis- 
 tressd her. It grieved me. I would so willingly 
 have stayed and nursed her, but the doctors ab- 
 solutely forbade my ever going into her room. 
 
 We had all the greatest specialists down from 
 London to consult about her case, but they all 
 shook their heads. It seemed hopeless and most 
 unlikely she would ever recover her reason. 
 
 One great physician said to me, with truth : 
 
 "For the poor lady's sake I could almost 
 hope she will remain in her present state. She 
 is happy and quite harmless, whereas she would 
 suffer agonies of grief should she recover/' 
 
 I tried to take this view, and after making 
 every possible arrangement for her comfort and 
 attendance I left for London. There was a great 
 deal of business to be seen about in connection 
 with the will. 
 
 Lady Tilchester had telegraphed at once all 
 her sympathy, and I got numbers of letters from 
 all sorts of people. 
 
 284 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 Among them Lady Grenellen! A beautiful- 
 ly expressed note, full of the friendliest sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 When I got back to Ledstone, after my week 
 in London, I found quantities of letters and 
 bills had accumulated for Augustus. His law- 
 yers were coming down the next day to sort and 
 settle everything. They had been piled up in 
 the smoking-room. 
 
 I sadly glanced through them as they lay. 
 Oh, I am not a hypocrite to say that when I 
 first went back into this room, full of tipsy hor- 
 rors as its associations were, it brought Augus- 
 tus back so vividly that I sat down and cried. 
 
 I had never wished him ill, and would have 
 given him back his life if I could. To die so 
 young, with everything to make existence fair! 
 It seemed too sad. 
 
 I lifted the pile of papers, one after another, 
 and at last came upon one with the address 
 printed on the outside of the envelope the ad- 
 dress of the dress-maker where Lady Grenellen's 
 clothes came from. 
 
 This bill the lawyers should not see. I looked 
 carefully to the end of the pile. There were no 
 more of any consequence. I wished I could 
 find her letters too, to save them also. The 
 drawers were all locked. I could not think that 
 night what to do, but when the lawyers came 
 next day I asked them to give me any letters 
 they might find with the same writing on the 
 
 285 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 envelope as the one I showed them her note 
 of sympathy to me and not to examine them. 
 
 And so it was that a day or two afterwards 
 I had before me six letters with a gold coronet 
 emblazoned upon the envelopes. 
 
 I had paid the bill. I wrote the check and 
 despatched it the night I found it, and now the 
 receipt also lay beside the letters. I tied them 
 together and sealed the bundle with Augustus's 
 seal. I put the receipted bill with them, and 
 enclosed the whole packet in another envelope, 
 and addressed it to Lady Grenellen. 
 
 I had not answered her letter of sympathy. 
 This would be my answer. 
 
 A thick skin is a fortunate gift, it appears, 
 and one I had thought of extreme rareness in 
 the class to which she belongs. What was my 
 surprise to receive a gushing letter of thanks 
 by return of post! My husband and she had 
 been such friends, she said, and he had helped 
 her before so kindly out of her difficulties, and 
 it was too good of me to have paid this bill 
 she could see by the date I must have paid it 
 and it all was too sad, and she hoped we should 
 meet later on, perhaps at Harley ! Her own hus- 
 band was coming home, slightly wounded, she 
 added. 
 
 Had I been in a laughing mood I should have 
 laughed aloud at the effrontery of the whole 
 thing. Well, perhaps it was better so. As far 
 as I am concerned the whole incident shall be 
 
 286 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 forgotten a memory of Augustus sunk into the 
 past. 
 
 And so January passed and February began. 
 
 It seems in life that things all come together. 
 One's days go on smoothly, uneventfully, for 
 months, and then, one after another, a series of 
 startling, unusual events occurs, which changes 
 the course of the peaceful river. 
 
 At the end of February I was still at Led- 
 stone, and my daily communications from Ame- 
 lia told me my poor mother-in-law was still a 
 happy idiot another telegram came to me 
 this time it was addressed to grandmamma to 
 grandmamma at the cottage! The very outside 
 startled me. 
 
 It was long, and from an unknown firm of 
 lawyers in America, to say that papa had died 
 out in the West, leaving me and grandmamma 
 a perfectly colossal fortune all made in the 
 space of three years, it must have been. 
 
 I seemed past feeling any grief. Papa was 
 a shadow, a strange flash in my life for so long 
 a time now. 
 
 I was perfectly unacquainted with business, 
 and had no more idea than a child what I should 
 have to do about this. I wished I had a friend 
 to advise me. Where could I turn? I thought 
 of Antony. For the first time since my widow- 
 hood I let my thoughts turn to him. He would 
 give me any advice I wanted, but then no, 
 he had had the good taste never even to write 
 
 287 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 to me. There was time enough for our meet- 
 ing. I would not push fate I, who had been 
 a widow only two months. 
 
 The only thing there seemed for me to do 
 was to start for America immediately, and, after 
 taking paid advice one gets very good advice 
 by paying for it Roy, McGreggor, my lawyer, 
 and I left England one cold and bleak March 
 morning. 
 
IV 
 
 As my trip to America was one of business 
 entirely, and was unaccompanied by any in- 
 teresting incidents or adventures, I have let 
 it pass by in silence. I was too busy all the 
 time, and too lonely, to take many fresh 
 impressions. It seemed hurry and rush, con- 
 tinuous noises, and tension of the nerves. I 
 felt glad when I once more found myself on 
 board the great liner that was taking me to 
 England. 
 
 It was fortunately a fine passage, not even 
 really cold at the end of May. Just over a year 
 ago since I was a very young girl, wonder- 
 ing what life had in store for me, and in twelve 
 months a whole chapter of events and sensa- 
 tions had passed. I seemed to know the whole 
 string of emotions or so I thought. 
 
 I had my deck-chair put where I could watch 
 the waves receding as the great ship cut her 
 way through them. 
 
 The salt air seemed to bring fresh life to me 
 fresh life and fresh ideas. Two things were 
 certain first, that I was now much too rich for 
 one woman, and Amelia, who had tasted noth- 
 
 289 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 ing but the rough bits of life, was much too 
 poor after her long service. 
 
 A scheme had come into my head in these 
 months alone. 
 
 My mother-in-law was still an imbecile, happy 
 and contented. She was surrounded with nurses 
 and all the attention that money and affection 
 could buy. Why should not poor Amelia get 
 some pleasure out of life? 
 
 I had a feeling that I, too, meant to live when 
 the period of my mourning should be over; and 
 how glorious to live and to forget that I had 
 ever even had the name of Gurrage! I would 
 give the whole of Augustus's fortune to Amelia ; 
 then she would gain by it, and I, too, would have 
 the satisfaction of feeling that my marriage was 
 an episode, a year to be blotted out of my life. 
 
 This thought would never have come if Mrs. 
 Gurrage had not passed into another sphere of 
 mental living. I would not have wounded her 
 for the world. 
 
 I settled all the details in my mind, on my 
 voyage home, and no sooner got to London than 
 I executed them. The law is a slow and de- 
 laying business, and even a deed of gift requires 
 endless formalities to go through. 
 
 Amelia was overcome. Her gratitude was 
 speechless some days, and at others broke into 
 torrents of words. 
 
 "I can have aunt to live with me back in the 
 dear old home," she said, once. 
 
 290 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 To Amelia the crimson-satin boudoir, and the 
 negro figures, and the bears, and the stained- 
 glass window are all household gods, and far 
 be it from me to wish to disillusionize her. 
 
 And I? I can take my household gods to a 
 more congenial setting, perhaps. Who can tell? 
 With the summer coming on and the birds sing- 
 ing it would be useless for me to pretend to 
 grieve any more. A joy lives always in my 
 heart. Some day not too soon, but some day 
 I shall see Antony. 
 
 I shall never hurry matters. If he cares for me 
 as deeply as I once thought, he will write to me 
 soon or make some sign. Meanwhile oh, I am 
 free! Free and rich and young again! The 
 shadows are fading away. 
 
 Grandmamma was right. 
 
 "Remember, above all things, that life is full 
 of compensations." 
 
 Dear grandmamma! I wish you could come 
 back to enjoy this second youth with me. 
 
 Shall I travel? It is late June now. Shall I 
 go and see the world, or shall I wait, and per- 
 haps, later on, have a companion to see it with 
 me? 
 
 To avoid the Coronation festivities, when all 
 details about my transfer of Augustus's prop- 
 erty to Amelia were finished, I went over to 
 France. I should stop at Versailles for a month 
 and see the Marquis in Paris, and then, perhaps, 
 go back to the cottage. 
 
 291 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I had often heard from Lady Tilchester 
 charming, sympathetic, feminine letters. I must 
 come to them at Harley whenever I decided to 
 go out a little, she said. I felt the whole of 
 the world was opening fairly for me. 
 
 I stopped a day or two in Paris to do a little 
 shopping on my way to Versailles, and coming 
 down the steps at Ritz one day I met Mr. Budge. 
 He had come over for a breath of gayer air, he 
 told me, after the Coronation fiasco. 
 
 "You are looking wonderfully well/' he said, 
 "and not quite fifty years old now/' 
 
 "I am hardly more than thirty/' I informed 
 him, "and hope, if the weather keeps fine, to 
 grow a little younger still/' 
 
 He said he was glad to hear it, and prayed I 
 would let him come and see the process. 
 
 "One grows in the night, when one is asleep," 
 I said, " so no one can see it. But if you would 
 care to take tea with me in the afternoon, I shall 
 be very pleased to see you." 
 
 He came the next day. 
 
 We talked gravely, as was befitting my mourn- 
 ing. He gave me news of my friends at Harley. 
 
 Lady Tilchester, he said, had a new scheme 
 on hand for the employment of the returning 
 volunteers whose places in business had been 
 filled up in their absence. She was absorbed in 
 this undertaking, but when not too busy was 
 more charming than ever. 
 
 " I spent a Sunday at Harley a couple of weeks 
 292 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 ago/' he said. "I don't think many of the peo- 
 ple were there that you met before none, I be- 
 lieve, but Sir Antony Thornhirst." 
 
 "And how was he?" I tried to say as nat- 
 urally as possible. 
 
 "He seemed in the best of health and spirits. 
 There is an intelligent person, if you like. I wish 
 he would enter Parliament." 
 
 "But Sir Antony is a Tory, I understand, 
 Mr. Budge! He would be no use to you," I said. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, he would. We want some brill- 
 iancy just now in the House to wake us up. 
 It does not matter which side it comes from." 
 
 "Don't you think he is too casual to care 
 enough about it? He would not give himself 
 the trouble to enter Parliament, I believe." 
 
 "That is just it. The ablest people are so 
 lazy. Lady Tilchester has often tried to per- 
 suade him, but he has some whimsical answer 
 ready, and remains at large." 
 
 I should like to have talked much more on this 
 subject, but Mr. Budge changed the conversa- 
 tion. He drifted into saying some personal 
 things which did not quite please me, consider- 
 ing my mourning. They were not in perfect 
 taste. I remembered how in the beginning I 
 had not liked his hands. One's first instincts 
 are generally right. 
 
 When he had gone I said to myself I should 
 not care to see him any more. 
 
 In Paris one finds a hundred things 'to do 
 293 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 and to buy if one happens suddenly to have 
 become a rich widow, as is my case. My few 
 days stretched themselves into a week. 
 
 I had a letter from the Marquis de Rocher- 
 mont. He was returning to his tiny apartments 
 in the Rue de Varennes the following day, after 
 a fortnight's absence, he told me. The dear 
 old Marquis ! I should be glad to see him again. 
 He must be a very old man now, almost eighty, 
 although he was several years grandmamma's 
 junior. 
 
 He would lunch with me with pleasure, he 
 said, and at one next day arrived in my sitting- 
 room. He looked just as he used to do at first, 
 but soon I noticed his gayety was gone. He 
 seemed frail and older. He had deeply grieved 
 for grandmamma. 
 
 His conversation was much the same, how- 
 ever. We spoke English as usual. I had 
 grown, he said, into the most beautiful woman 
 he had ever seen in his life, and my air and my 
 dignity were worthy of the ancien regime. I 
 had found, he hoped, that his conseils had 
 been of some use to me in my brief married 
 life. 
 
 "Yes, Marquis/' I said, "I have often been 
 grateful to you and grandmamma." 
 
 "You are of a great richesse now, n'est-ce 
 pas, mon enfant?" 
 
 "Yes, of a great richesse. And so I have 
 given all the Gurrage money back to one of their 
 
 294 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 family you may remember her Amelia Hoad 
 was her name/' 
 
 " Ah I" he said, and he kissed my hand. " That 
 was worthy of you and worthy of your race. 
 It would have pleased our dear madam/' 
 
 "I had become so rich, you see, from papa, 
 I did not really want the money, and I had a 
 feeling that if I gave it all back I should have 
 no further ties with them. I could slip away 
 into another atmosphere and gradually forget 
 this year of my life." 
 
 We had a delightful luncheon, in spite of 
 my poor old guest's infirmities; he had grown 
 blinder and more tottering since last we met. 
 He eat very little and sipped his sparkling hock. 
 I had determined somehow to try and give 
 him some of my great wealth; but how even to 
 broach the subject I did not know. At last, 
 driven into a corner with nervousness, I blurted 
 out my wishes. 
 
 "Oh, I want you to benefit too, dear friend!" 
 I said. "You shared our poverty, why not my 
 riches?" 
 
 His old, faded cheeks turned pink. He rose 
 from his chair. 
 
 "I thank you, madam," he said, haughtily. 
 "The de Rochermonts do not accept money from 
 
 women/' 
 
 I felt as I used to when grandmamma was 
 ever displeased with me. My knees shook. 
 "Oh, please forgive me!" I implored. "I have 
 295 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 always looked upon myself as almost your child, 
 although we are no relations, dear Marquis, and 
 I thought" 
 
 " Assez, assez, mon enfant/' he said, and he 
 resumed his chair. "You meant it gentiment, 
 but it was a bdtise quand meme. We shall speak 
 of it no more/' 
 
 Before he left he gave me some more con- 
 seils. 
 
 " You took no amant, child? No? Well, per- 
 haps in England it was as well. But now listen 
 to me. Be in no hurry de prendre un second 
 mari. The agrements of life are at their begin- 
 nings for you. All doors fly open to a jeune et 
 belle veuve. Amusez-vous bien." 
 
 I looked at him. We were such old friends, 
 I could speak to him. 
 
 " Even if one loved some one very much, Mar- 
 quis?" I asked. 
 
 "On ne sait jamais combien de temps cela va 
 durer, V amour a vingt ans! C'est dangereux!" 
 And he shook his head. Then, with an air of 
 illumination, "It is your kinsman, Sir Thorn- 
 hirst?" he said. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you love him very much?" 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 "In all cases wait attendez surtout point 
 trop de hate!" 
 
VERSAILLES for me is always full of charms. 
 There is a dignity about it which reminds me of 
 grandmamma. I love to walk in the galleries 
 and look at the portraits of the great ladies of 
 the past. The gay insouciance of their expres- 
 sions, the daintiness of their poses, the beauti- 
 ful and suitable color of everything give me a 
 sense of satisfaction and repose. 
 
 I had been there for some little while, spending 
 days of peace and reflection, when, nearly eight 
 months after the death of Augustus, I received 
 two letters. 
 
 It was a most curious coincidence that neither 
 of my correspondents had written to me before, 
 even letters of condolence, and that they should 
 select the same date now. 
 
 The letters were from Antony and the Duke. 
 They were both characteristic. 
 
 "Comtesse," Antony wrote, "you know I am 
 thinking of you always. When may I come 
 and see you, and where ?" 
 
 The Duke's was longer. It began conven- 
 tionally, and went on in delicate language to 
 tell me that time was passing, and surely soon 
 
 297 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I must be thinking of seeing my friends again, 
 and he was entirely at my disposition when I 
 should return to England. 
 
 This amused me. Antony's caused me a wave 
 of joy. Oh! should I be able to take the Mar- 
 quis's advice and wait for several years? I 
 feared not. 
 
 Of course, I should not think of marrying 
 Antony yet. It would be absolutely indecent 
 haste. Certainly not for eighteen months or 
 two years, anyway. But there could be no harm 
 in my seeing him soon. 
 
 Excitement tingled to my very finger-tips at 
 the thought. I did not answer either letter for 
 nearly a week. I walked about the gardens 
 at Versailles and luxuriously enjoyed my mus- 
 ings. 
 
 I was, as it were, a cat playing with a mouse, 
 only I was both cat and mouse. 
 
 One day I would picture our meeting An- 
 tony's and mine. The next I would push him 
 away from my thoughts, and decide that I would 
 not even let him come to me until the year was 
 up. Then, again, when it grew evening, and 
 the darkness gradually crept up, there came a 
 scent in the air which affected me so that I longed 
 to see him at once to see him to let him kiss 
 me. Oh, to myself I hardly dared to think of 
 this! 
 
 The kisses of Augustus were, as yet, the only 
 ones I knew. 
 
 298 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 At last I wrote my answers. 
 
 To the Duke I said my plans were uncertain. I 
 did not know when I should return to England; 
 probably not at all until next year, as I thought 
 of going to Egypt for the winter. I finished 
 with some pleasant platitudes. 
 
 Antony's answer took longer to write, and 
 was only a few words when finished. 
 
 "I am staying at Versailles," I wrote. "If 
 you like to come and see me casually to talk 
 about the ancestors you may; but not for a 
 week." 
 
 Why I made this stipulation of a week I do 
 not know. Directly I had posted the letter I 
 felt the time could never pass. It was with the 
 greatest difficulty I prevented myself from send- 
 ing a telegram of three words: "Come now. 
 To-day." How would he find me looking? 
 Would he, too, think I had improved in appear- 
 ance? I had grown an inch, it seemed to me. I 
 was never very short, but now, at five feet seven, 
 he could not call me " little Comtesse " any more. 
 Oh, to hear his dear voice! To look into his 
 greeny-blue, beautiful eyes ! Oh, I fear no advice 
 in the world of a hundred marquises could keep 
 me from Antony much longer! 
 
 Would Wednesday never come? The Wednes- 
 day in August after the Coronation, that was the 
 day I had fixed for our meeting. 
 
 Should I be out, and leave a message for him 
 to follow me into the gardens, or should I quietly 
 
 299 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 stay in my sitting-room? What should we say 
 to each other? I must be very calm, of course, 
 and appear perfectly indifferent, and we must 
 not speak upon any subjects but the pictures 
 here, and our mutual friends, and the pleasure 
 of Paris, and the health of the dogs. 
 
 He had replied, immediately : 
 
 "I shall be there, and we can talk of the an- 
 cestors and other things/' No, there must be 
 no "other things" yet. 
 
 But what immense joy all this was to think 
 about for me! I who had never in all my life 
 been able to do as I pleased. Now I would 
 nibble at my cake and enjoy its every crumb 
 not seize and eat it all at once. 
 
 On Tuesday morning I got a telegram from 
 Lady Tilchester, sent from Paris. I had written 
 to her some days before. She had run over to 
 Ritz for a week, she said, to recover from her 
 fatigues of the Saturday, and would I come into 
 town, and lunch with her that day at half -past 
 twelve? 
 
 With delight I started in my automobile. I 
 had not seen her for months. 
 
 "Oh, you beautiful thing!" she exclaimed, 
 when we met. " I have never seen such a change 
 in any one. You are like an opening rose, a 
 glorious, fresh flower." 
 
 She looked tired, I thought, but fascinating as 
 ever. We lunched together in the restaurant, 
 and had a long conversation. 
 
 300 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 She told me an amusing story of the American 
 Lady Luffton, whom she had seen the day be- 
 fore. An expected family event had prevented 
 her from gracing the Coronation. 
 
 " My dear " and Lady Tilchester imitated her 
 voice exactly " it is a dispensation of Providence 
 that circumstances did not permit me to attend 
 this ceremony. You Englishwomen would have 
 gone anyhow; but we Americans are different. 
 But, I say, it is a dispensation of Providence, 
 as I am considerably contented with Luffy and 
 my position up to the present time. But if I 
 had gotten there, stuffed behind with the bar- 
 onesses, and had seen those duchesses march- 
 ing along with their strawberry-leaves ahead of 
 me, I kinder think I should have had a fit of 
 dyspepsia right there in the Abbey." 
 
 After lunch we went up to the sitting-room. 
 I meant to stay for half an hour before going 
 back to Versailles. 
 
 Telegrams called Lady Tilchester away for 
 a little. She is always so full of business. 
 
 "I shall send Muriel to entertain you while 
 I answer these/' she said. "I brought her over 
 with me to have a glimpse of Paris, too." 
 
 In a few moments the sound of feet running 
 down the passage caused me to turn round as 
 the door opened and a slender child of ten or 
 eleven entered the room. She was facing the 
 light. I happened to be standing with my back 
 to the window. 
 
 301 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS1NE 
 
 "How do you do?" she said, sweetly, and 
 put out her little hand. "Mother says I may 
 come and talk to you." 
 
 There are some moments in life too anguish- 
 ing for words! 
 
 Her face is the face of Lady Tilchester, but 
 her eyes her eyes are grayish - greeny - blue, 
 with black edges, and that look like a cat's, 
 that can see in the dark. 
 
 Now I know whom her photograph reminded 
 me of. 
 
 There can be only one other pair of such eyes 
 in the world. 
 
 I don't remember what I said. Something 
 kind and banal. Then I invented an excuse to 
 go away. 
 
 "Give my best love to your mother, dear/' 
 I said, "and say I must not stop another mo- 
 ment. I have remembered an important ap- 
 pointment with the dressmaker, and I must 
 fly!" 
 
 She put up her mignonne oval face to kiss me. 
 
 "I have heard so much of you," she said. 
 " I wanted so to see you. I wish you could have 
 stayed." And so we kissed and parted. 
 
 When I got into the automobile outside, I 
 felt as if I were going to faint for a few awful 
 moments. Everything was clear to me now! 
 I remembered the little photograph on his man- 
 tel-piece, his sudden changing of the conver- 
 sation, a number of small things unnoticed 
 
 302 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROS/NE 
 
 at the time. How had I been so ridiculously 
 blind? It was because she seemed so great 
 and noble, and utterly apart from all these 
 things. 
 
 Had it been Babykins or Lady Grenellen, 
 or any other woman, this discovery would have 
 made no difference to me. I did not doubt that 
 Antony loved me, and me only, now. He had 
 been "not wearyingly faithful," like the rest 
 of his world, that was all. 
 
 But she Lady Tilchester my friend! Oh, 
 I could not take her lover from her! She who 
 had always been so good to me, from the first 
 moment of our acquaintance, kind and sym- 
 pathetic and dear! I owed her deepest grati- 
 tude. If one of us must suffer, it should cer- 
 tainly be I. I could not play her false like this. 
 Of course she loved him still! He was often 
 with her, I knew, and her face had softened 
 when first she spoke of him. They had known 
 each other for fourteen years, she had said. I 
 seemed to see it all. This was her "mid-sum- 
 mer madness/' and Antony had gone away 
 to travel for several years, and then returned 
 to her again. They had probably been so happy 
 together until I came upon the scene. 
 
 Well, they can be happy once more when 
 he forgets me. I, at least, shall not stand in 
 the way. Dear Margaret, I am not so mean 
 as that! You shall keep your lover, and I will 
 never have mine! 
 
 303 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 All my life I shall hate the road to Versailles. 
 "Go at top speed/' I told my chauffeur. 
 
 I felt if we might dash against a tree and 
 have done with the whole matter, it would be 
 the best thing in the end. 
 
 The rapid motion through the air revived me. 
 I had my wits about me when we drew up at 
 the hotel door. 
 
 "I am going to Switzerland to-night/' I said 
 to McGreggor. "Pack up everything/' 
 
 She is a maid of wonderful sense. 
 
 "Very well, ma'am/' she said, without the 
 slightest appearance of surprise. 
 
 I sat down and wrote a telegram to Antony. 
 It would just catch him. He was to leave by the 
 night mail: 
 
 " I have seen Muriel and I know. Lady Tilchester has 
 been always kind to me. Do not come. Good-bye." 
 
 Then I took it to the post-office myself. 
 That night we left for Lucerne McGreggor 
 and Roy and I. 
 
VI 
 
 IT being August, crowds of tourists faced me 
 everywhere. Lucerne, which I had always heard 
 was such a pretty place, filled me with loath- 
 ing. I only stayed a day there. At last, after 
 stopping in several places, we arrived one after- 
 noon at Zui'ebad. Here, at least, there were 
 no tourists, only ugly rheumatic invalids, and 
 unattractive. What made me choose such a 
 place I do not know, unless it was because I 
 happened to see the name printed large upon 
 the map. Any place would do. I had not 
 felt much in my rapid rush. A numbness, as 
 of a limb cut off, an utter indifference to every- 
 thing in life. 
 
 But when I found myself alone in the vast 
 pine-woods, an anguish, as of physical pain, 
 took possession of me. Every tree spoke to 
 me of Antony. The surroundings were all 
 perfect. 
 
 What would he do? Would he follow me 
 and try to persuade me to alter my mind? Oh 
 no, he could never do that. He would know 
 that this must be final. What had been his 
 idea all along? How could he think I should 
 
 305 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 never find out, and having done so, that I would 
 ever accept such a position? 
 
 Or was it that he, like all his world, thought 
 so lightly of passing from one love to another 
 that fidelity to Lady Tilchester was among the 
 catalogue of things that do not count. 
 
 I had taken no pains to hide my whereabouts. 
 
 At each hotel they would know to where I 
 had gone on. For days a feverish excitement 
 took possession of me. Every knock at the 
 door made me start. Would he write? Would 
 he make any sign? I almost prayed not, and 
 yet I feared and longed to hear from him. 
 
 This is not a school-girl love story I am writ- 
 ing, but the chronicle of my life. I have al- 
 ways despised sentimental heart-burnings, and 
 when I used to read of the heroine dying for 
 love, it always made me laugh. But, oh, never 
 again can I know such bitterness in life as I 
 have suffered in this black week to have been 
 so near to bliss, and now to be away forever! 
 
 What good to me were my freedom and riches? 
 As well be married or dead. I never knew be- 
 fore how much I had been looking forward to 
 seeing Antony again. I never realized how, in- 
 stinctively, for months my soul had been living 
 in the background on this thought. 
 
 And now it was all finished. I must not be a 
 coward. Oh, how I wished again for grand- 
 mamma's spirit! This time I must tear the 
 whole thing out of my life at once. 
 
 306 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 To go on caring for another woman's lover 
 was beneath contempt. 
 
 When I should have recovered a little, I would 
 go back to England and mix with the world, 
 and gradually forget, and eventually marry 
 the Duke. Fortunately, as the Marquis said, & 
 mngt ans one could never be sure of love last- 
 ing. So probably I should soon be cured, and 
 there would be compensation in being an Eng- 
 lish duchess. It was a great position, as Miss 
 Corrisande K. Trumpet had said. And all men 
 make good enough husbands if you have con- 
 trol of the dollars, I remember she added. 
 
 Well, I should have control of the dollars. So 
 we should see. 
 
 The Duke was a gentleman, too, and intelli- 
 gent, agreeable, and had liberal views. His Duch- 
 ess might eventually have a "friend/' like the 
 rest, he had said. So, no doubt, I should be 
 able to acquire the habit of thus amusing myself. 
 Why should I hesitate, when the best and the 
 noblest gave me examples? 
 
 All my ideas on those subjects had fallen to 
 pieces like a pack of cards. 
 
 " ' Eat, drink, and be merry, for to - morrow 
 you die/" 
 
 Well, I had never eaten or drunk of happiness 
 yet, and now my heart was dead. So what 
 was the good of it all, anyway? A quoi bon? 
 and again, & quoi bon ? That is what the trees 
 said to me when they tired of calling for Antony. 
 
 307 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 I breakfasted and lunched and dined and 
 walked miles every day. I loathed my food. I 
 hated the faces of the people who stared at me. 
 I fear I even snapped at McGreggor. Roy was 
 my only comfort. 
 
 But gradually the beauty and peace of the 
 pine-forests soothed me. Better thoughts came. 
 I said to myself: "Enough. Now you will go 
 home and face life. At least you can try to do 
 some good in the world, and with your great 
 wealth make some poor creatures happy. You 
 have behaved according to your own idea of 
 gratitude and honor. No one asked you to do 
 it; therefore, why sit there and growl at fate? 
 Have courage to carry the thing through. No 
 more contemptible repinings." 
 
 Far away up the hills there is a path that 
 leads to an open space a tiny peep out over 
 the tree-tops, sheer precipices below. I would 
 go there for the last time, and to-morrow return 
 to England. 
 
 The climb was steep. I was a little out of 
 breath, and leaned on the stone ledge to rest 
 myself when I arrived at the top. I was quite 
 alone. 
 
 The knife on my chatelaine caught in the lich- 
 en and dragged at the chain. It angered me. I 
 took it off the twisted ring and looked at it. 
 
 "Little 'ill omen/ as he called you, is it your 
 fault that once fate, once honor, and once grati- 
 
 308 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 tude to a woman have kept me from my love? 
 Well, I shall throw you away now, then I shall 
 have no link left to remind me of foolish things 
 that might have been/' 
 
 I lifted my arm, and with all my might flung 
 the tiny, glittering thing out into the air. It fell 
 far away down among the tree-tops in the valley. 
 
 Then I turned to go down the hill. I had done 
 with ridiculous sentiment, which I had always 
 disliked and despised. 
 
 Footsteps were coming towards me up the 
 long, winding path. It was a lonely place. I 
 hoped it was not one of the fat German Jews 
 who had followed me once or twice. Ugly 
 creatures! hardly human, they seemed to me. 
 I wished I had Roy with me. He had gone with 
 McGreggor into the town. 
 
 A bend in the path hid the person from view 
 until we met face to face. 
 
 And then I saw it was Antony, and it seemed 
 as if my heart stopped beating. 
 
 " At last I have found you, Ambrosine, sweet- 
 heart!" he said, and he clasped me in his arms 
 and kissed my lips. 
 
 Then I forgot Lady Tilchester and gratitude 
 and honor and self-control, because in nature 
 I find there is a stronger force than all these 
 things, and that is the touch of the one we love. 
 
 It was perhaps an hour afterwards. The shad- 
 ows looked blue among the pine-trees. 
 
 309 
 
THE REFLECTIONS OF AMBROSINE 
 
 We sat on a little wooden bench. There was 
 a warm, still silence. Not a twig moved. A joy 
 so infinite seemed everywhere around. 
 
 "It was all over between us ten years ago/' 
 Antony said. "It only lasted a year or two, 
 when we were very young. The situation galled 
 us both too much, and Tilchester was always 
 my friend. She knows I love you, and she only 
 cares for her great works and her fine position 
 now. So you need not have fled, Comtesse." 
 
 "I shall tell you something, Antony/' I whis- 
 pered. "I am glad I am doing no wrong, but 
 if it was to break Lady Tilchester's heart, if 
 grandmamma were to come back and curse me 
 here for forgetting all her teachings, if it was 
 almost disgrace now that I know what it is 
 like to stay in your arms I should stay!" 
 
 THE END 
 
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