mammmmm 
 
 The Strange Story 
 
 of My Life 
 
 Author of 
 
 'Army Society%>. 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 a 
 
The Strange Story of My Life 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN STRANGE WINTER 
 
 Author of 
 
 "Booties' Baby," "Army Society," "Cavalry Life" 
 " Beautiful Jim," " Garrison Gossip," " Red Coats" 
 "A Bom Soldier," "A Magnificent Young Man" 
 
 " The Same Thing with a Difference" 
 " The Truth Tellers," etc., etc. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION 
 
 LONDON 
 
 F V. WHITE & CO. 
 14 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, IV. C. 
 
 1897 
 
PR 
 mi 
 
 TO 
 
 MY LITTLE GIRL, 
 
 NANCY, 
 
 WHO WAS BORN ON THE DAY ON WHICH THIS STORY 
 WAS FINISHED, I, WITH MUCH LOVE, 
 
 Dedicate 
 
 "The Strange Story of My Life." 
 
 JOHN STRANGE WINTER. 
 
 Dieppe, 1896. 
 
 1524; 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I.— Going Back to the Beginning 
 II. — My Life Changes . 
 III. — A Simla Love Story 
 IV. — Doremy .... 
 
 V. — Sorrow Clouds 
 VI. — A Jarred Note in a Harmony 
 VII. — The Influence of One Person 
 VIII. — A Fiat and a Choice 
 IX. — The Beginning of Our Journey . 
 X. — A Rudderless Ship on an Unknown Sea 
 XL — My First Impressions of Home . 
 XII. — Florestella .... 
 XIII. — Stricken Florestella 
 XIV.— The Princess Elizabeth . 
 XV. — News from Bhozar . 
 XVI.— On Board the " Kaiserin Elisabeth" 
 XVII. — A Childless Widow 
 XVIII. — In a Gilded Cage . 
 XIX.— Louis Barzadiev 
 
 l'AGE 
 1 
 
 7 
 
 19 
 
 27 
 
 38 
 
 46 
 
 56 
 
 65 
 
 74 
 
 83 
 
 92 
 
 102 
 
 111 
 
 121 
 
 130 
 
 140 
 
 149 
 
 195 
 
 168 
 
vin 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAT. 
 
 XX. 
 
 —A Casual Question . 
 
 >"AGE 
 
 178 
 
 XXI. 
 
 —Time goes on 
 
 189 
 
 XXII. 
 
 — The Weaving ok the Net 
 
 199 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 — Rest and Unrest . 
 
 209 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 — On the Threshold . 
 
 217 
 
 XXV. 
 
 —My Memories 
 
 228 
 
 XXVI.- 
 
 —My Second Marriage Day 
 
 237 
 
 XXVII.- 
 
 —Tranquillity and Contentment . 
 
 247 
 
 XXVIII.- 
 
 —A Thunderbolt 
 
 257 
 
 XXIX.- 
 
 —A Face from the Dead 
 
 268 
 
 XXX. 
 
 —Two Questions 
 
 277 
 
 XXXI.- 
 
 —Left Alone . 
 
 288 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 —Waiting— and the End 
 
 296 
 
The Strange Story of My Life 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 GOING BACK TO THE BEGINNING 
 
 It may sound rather an odd thing to say, but I had 
 never been home in my life. The truth was I had 
 been born and brought up in India, and the far- 
 away country which we English people always called 
 " home " was as a sealed book to me. I knew 
 nothing whatever about it. Sometimes, when I was 
 little, I used to ask my mother what home was like, 
 and then she would describe a far-away, quiet, sleepy 
 kind of existence in which church-going played a 
 great part — church-going and the poor — and when I 
 would say to her, " Yes, but that is not what I want 
 to know. What about London ? What is London 
 like ? " then she would answer, " My dear, I never 
 saw London but once, which was for a week after I 
 was married, when it was all so new and strange and 
 confusing that I really can hardly tell you what Lon- 
 don is like. I have a recollection of buying a great 
 many things and of looking in a great many shop 
 windows, and of going to theatres, which was a very 
 new experience to me, and of how your father laughed 
 at me when I wanted to see picture-galleries and 
 churches and other sights. But he was very good, he 
 took me to see as much as he could before we sailed ; 
 
 A 
 
2 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 but it is so long ago, dear, and it was such an unrest- 
 ful time that it is more like a dream to me than any- 
 thing else. Some day we will take you home — we 
 shall all go home together — and then we will make a 
 long stay in London, and you and I will do it, and 
 learn it thoroughly." 
 
 But alas for the mutability of human hopes and 
 desires ! We never did go home together, for, long 
 before my father had even begun to think of a couple 
 of years' leave, my pretty mother had gone to another 
 home from which there is no return, on a journey for 
 which we may make no arrangements for companion- 
 ship by the way ; when I was nearly fifteen, she fell 
 a victim to cholera and died. 
 
 My mother's death made a changed man of my 
 father. Theirs had been a most passionate love 
 match — a love which began on the day that he, 
 staying at the squire's in the little north-country 
 village of which her father was rector, had fallen 
 in love with her when his eyes first fell upon her 
 under the spreading chestnut trees which shaded one 
 side of the Rectory garden. I have never seen that 
 old garden, but my mother described it to me often 
 and often. 
 
 My father was twelve years older than she was, 
 and at that time of day she was only eighteen. 
 Her whole life had been bounded by her father's 
 parish. The most prominent person who had ever 
 come into her existence had been her father's squire, 
 Lord Rivers. She had never in her life ventured 
 from under her mother's wing, but had grown up 
 sweet and simple and shy as a wood-violet, surely 
 the last girl in the world that one might imagine 
 would be called upon to leave home and kindred and 
 to make her own the utterly and entirely different 
 
GOING BACK TO THE BEGINNING 3 
 
 life which is lived in the shining East. And yet, 
 how wonderful love is ! One glance of a stalwart 
 soldier's brave blue eyes was sufficiently magnetic 
 to draw the simple young girl completely away from 
 all the ties and associations of her whole life. He 
 proposed to her within a few days of their meeting, 
 and six weeks later they were married in the little 
 country church wherein she had been christened, 
 married by the father whom she was leaving, never 
 to see again. And so the two turned their backs on 
 what to her had been her world, and set their faces 
 toward the unknown. 
 
 I can safely say that my mother never repented 
 the step which she took that day. From first to last, 
 my father was her lover and her king. She wor- 
 shipped him, and he, for his part, idolised her. 
 Lovers they were always ; an ideal husband and 
 wife, they existed for each other, and I, their only 
 child, was ever and always a something outside 
 their perfect life. Not that I had ever to complain 
 of lack of love — oh, no, no. I can never look back 
 to the day when my mother seemed to be fettered 
 by my presence, or my father to be impatient of 
 my childish questionings. I had the most devoted 
 ayah who ever existed, and perhaps it is true that 
 Indian mothers do not have very much trouble 
 with their children, but still, I never in my life felt 
 shut out, although I was always conscious of only 
 coming next to my father or mother in the estima- 
 tion of either. 
 
 My father was never the same after my mother's 
 death. When the time came for him to take his two 
 years' leave, he resolutely declined any idea of going 
 home. I was most bitterly disappointed. I was very 
 young, but just sixteen years old, and the ambition of 
 
4 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 my life had been to pay a long delicious holiday to 
 the old country, to go home. My father, however, ab- 
 solutely set his face against any such idea. " No," he 
 said resolutely, " if your mother had been still with us, 
 it would have given me the greatest possible pleasure 
 to take you and her home again ; but to go without 
 her, leaving her out here all alone, to go to visit such 
 of her people as are still living, to go to all those 
 places which we last saw together, is more than I can 
 endure. It is quite out of the question, Dottikins. 
 You must not ask me to do it. One of these days you 
 will go home without me, and you will understand 
 then exactly what I am feeling now." 
 
 I felt the hot tears gush into my eyes as his mean- 
 ing broke upon me. " Dear Father," I said, slipping 
 my arm round his neck and holding him very tightly, 
 "don't think that I want you to do anything that 
 will hurt you or make you think too painfully of 
 what might have been. I shall be quite content 
 wherever you are. I wish I had said nothing about it." 
 
 " Oh, my dear," he replied, "you are young — very 
 young — and young things happily do not quite under- 
 stand the sorrows which come to older hearts. Yours 
 will come, child, soon enough. Don't think that I 
 want you to be any different to what you are. You 
 remind me more of her every day." 
 
 So it came about that my father and I never went 
 home together, and the long, dreamy, delicious wander- 
 ings which dear mother and I used to discuss with 
 such pleasure of anticipation never came to fruition. 
 
 We did not waste our leave — oh, by no means ! 
 We took it out as it were in patches instead of enjoy- 
 ing it all in one lump. First we went off to Cash- 
 mere for six months ; then, when Father had put in a 
 few months' more work, we went in the opposite 
 
GOING BACK TO THE BEGINNING 5 
 
 direction and made Japan our Mecca; and so we got 
 change of scene and of air without reminding Father 
 too painfully of the holiday to which he had so long 
 looked forward. 
 
 I had spent most of my Indian life at Simla, and 
 had been at school there for some years. With our 
 journey to Cashmere my school-days came to an end, 
 and by the time we returned from Japan I was, to all 
 outward appearance, quite a woman grown, although 
 I was but just seventeen. By then my father had as- 
 sumed the command of his regiment, and on my return 
 home to take up my position as mistress of his house, 
 I found myself a person of considerable importance. 
 
 I think, on the whole, that my father felt my 
 mother's death less after I came home for good. Of 
 course, he must naturally have been terribly lonely 
 during the time that I was still at school, for all that 
 we spent of the whole year together was the time 
 when he was able to get leave, or I was able to go 
 down to the plains. He did not say much about it 
 — he was never a man to mope, but remained a gal- 
 lant, upright soldier to the very end of his life — but 
 others told me how bitterly he had felt his loss. There 
 were ladies in the garrison who were most anxious 
 to mother me on all possible occasions, and they one 
 and all united in telling me that my father was quite 
 a different man now that I had come home altogether. 
 
 For myself, I was perfectly happy at this time. Of 
 course, I should have been more happy if I could 
 have had my mother, as I had naturally expected to 
 have, but I was young, and young people do forget 
 — at least, they do not go on feeling as older ones do. 
 I have often thought since that it is middle-aged 
 people who suffer intensely from bereavement. Old 
 folk bear the loss of those they love with comparative 
 
6 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 equanimity. They seem often to feel that it is no 
 use giving way to their grief, that, after all, it is but 
 for a time, or, as some poet puts it, " A passing out of 
 this room into the next." And young things, although 
 their grief may be very poignant at the outset, soon 
 learn to find other interests and to make the best of 
 what is. But middle-aged people — men in the very 
 prime of life, as my father was — it is they who feel 
 grief and sorrow with intensity. Still, he did feel it 
 less after I went home, and it is almost impossible for 
 me to express how great was my satisfaction when I 
 realised beyond all doubt that such was the case. 
 
 Of course, it would have been but a dreary and 
 monotonous existence for me if my father had been a 
 man to mope and shut himself up with his grief. 
 Fortunately, he was one of the cheeriest and most 
 pleasantly domestic men that one could meet with 
 in a year's march. He was always interested in my 
 little projects, always ready for me to take the 
 smallest bit of pleasure that happened to be on foot ; 
 he would cheerfully go, night after night, to dances 
 or some other festivities, and stay till all hours watch- 
 ing me enjoy myself, when I daresay he would often 
 much rather have stayed quietly at home. 
 
 "You are staying late to-night, Colonel," I heard 
 someone say to him one night. 
 
 "Ah," replied my father, "my little girl is enjoying 
 herself. I like to see young things happy while they 
 have the chance of being so." 
 
 "Miss Massingham is enjoying herself," rejoined 
 the other voice with a laugh, " that is very certain." 
 
 " All the better, all the better ! " I heard my father 
 say. " She won't enjoy herself too much for me." 
 
 And then I stole away, and neither knew that I 
 had heard a single word. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 MY LIFE CHANGES 
 
 I was sitting at tiffin one day with my father, when 
 he looked across the table at me with a glance which 
 was one half of apprehension and half of anxiety. 
 " Dottikins," he said, speaking rather abruptly, " I 
 think you ought to get off to the hills as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " Off to the hills ! " I exclaimed. " But why ? " 
 
 " Well, you know, you have had a long spell of this 
 place, and it is getting fearfully hot. You are look- 
 ing very pale and peaky, far too much so for your 
 age. I think you won't be able to wait for me. I 
 shall have to make arrangements to send you off to 
 the hills by yourself." 
 
 " Oh, but I can't go without you, Father," I replied. 
 
 " I think it would be better." 
 
 " Oh, no, dear, I really could not leave you down 
 here. You are ever so much happier when I am with 
 you, you know that." 
 
 " Yes, I know that," he said, smiling, " but, at the 
 same time, if you get run down a shade too far, that 
 won't make me happier." 
 
 " Oh, but I am not ill ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " No, you are not ill, but you may get ill at any 
 moment. You know, child, you are not seasoned as I 
 am, and every day now the weather will get worse, 
 
 7 
 
8 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 not better. The heat will get more oppressive and 
 the atmosphere more stuffy." 
 
 " But Mother always stayed down with you ? " 
 
 " Not the first year or two," he replied. 
 
 "Oh! didn't she?" 
 
 "No. She wanted to do so, for she was just as 
 unselfish as you are ; but it became so very plain — 
 patent to the meanest observation, indeed — that she 
 could not stand heat as well as I could, that she very 
 sensibly gave in after trying it for part of one hot 
 season. I really think you had better go up as soon 
 as possible, and I will follow you later on." 
 
 " But I cannot go by myself, Father ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " No, no, of course not. Mrs Sheepshanks is going 
 up." 
 
 " Oh, I couldn't go with Mrs Sheepshanks and all 
 those crying babies ! No, Father, I really could not. 
 I would rather stay here, even if I died." 
 
 " That is talking nonsense," said my father. But 
 he laughed under his moustache, and I knew that 
 Mrs Sheepshanks was, under no circumstances, to be 
 my companion if I should be compelled to leave him 
 at Muggrapore. 
 
 Finally I turned my back upon Muggrapore and 
 set off for Simla in the company of Mrs Hamilton, a 
 gay little woman, whose husband was in the artillery. 
 She had only been out three or four years, and had no 
 idea of burying herself for love's sake in a down- 
 country station during the hot season. I am not 
 sure that my father was not a little doubtful as to 
 her efficiency as chaperon for me. She was young, 
 and distinctly of a gay turn, one of those blonde- 
 haired, blue-eyed, insouciant little women who take 
 life as it comes, and as easily as human nature and 
 circumstances will allow. She was undoubtedly ex- 
 
MY LIFE CHANGES M 
 
 tremely fond of her husband, and would infinitely 
 have preferred that he should be going to Simla like- 
 wise, but as he was not able to go to Simla any more 
 than my father was, she made the best of the fact that 
 she had to go alone. 
 
 My father and Captain Hamilton both came to see 
 us off on our journey, and as the train steamed out of 
 the Muggrapore station, leaving the two standing to- 
 gether on the platform, her gaiety and brave airs all 
 melted into a perfect passion of tears. 
 
 " It is awfully silly of me," she said, dabbing fiercely 
 at her eyes with a little wisp of a handkerchief which 
 she had rolled up into a tight ball in her nervousness, 
 " because, of course, Jack is coming up as soon as he 
 can possibly get away, but ' (choking) ' I always feel 
 like this when I leave him first. It is awfully silly. 
 You will think me a perfect fool, child. Some day 
 you will be married yourself, and then you will know 
 what it is. Poor old Jack ! I almost wish I hadn't 
 come. But, of course, he insisted on it, and, after 
 all, it would be an awful bore for him if he were to 
 have me ill on his hands, and the doctor said I should 
 get ill if I stayed down in stuffy Muggrapore. Horrid 
 place ! I don't know why they wanted to quarter us 
 in such a hole ! How lucky we got the carriage to 
 ourselves ! " she added presently, in a different tone, 
 " because I do hate crying before people and making 
 a fool of myself. There, you needn't look at me with 
 such pitiful eyes, Dorothy. I am all right now." 
 
 And then she whisked open her bag, whisked out a 
 little dressing-glass, which she stuck up on the window- 
 ledge, and began to dab at her face with some cooling 
 lotion. " One cannot afford to cry in this country," 
 she explained to me. " That is what Jack said when 
 we first came out— 'Don't cry about things, little 
 
10 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 woman. Nobody can afford to cry in India. It 
 takes too much of your vitality out of you.' I 
 must say that I have always found the poor dear 
 old fellow perfectly right." 
 
 She had spoken truly when she declared that 
 she was not going to cry any more. Not another 
 tear dimmed her radiant blue eyes so long as I 
 was with her. 
 
 It was a hideous journey, and I felt sometimes 
 as if I should hardly live to reach my destina- 
 tion alive. True, we had our diversions as we 
 went. We had a carriage reserved for us — that 
 is to say, reserved for our exclusive use — and as 
 there were several officers whom we knew travel- 
 ling by the same train, Mrs Hamilton made a great 
 show of her good-nature in inviting them to pay 
 us little visits. She did not make them free of 
 our carriage — oh, dear, no ! But at the first stop- 
 ping-place, when a couple of them came to see how 
 we were getting on, and to inquire if we were 
 comfortable, she graciously informed them that 
 they might come in as far as the next station 
 if they liked. " After that," she said, " we shall 
 be resting, and you will be glad to get back into 
 your own cpmpartment." 
 
 Still, even relieved in this way, the journey was 
 a most tedious one, and glad we were when the 
 last tiresome part of it was over, when we had 
 left the hot and stuffy train and found ourselves 
 carried along like so much baggage. 
 
 Looking back from my present standpoint, I 
 often feel that it was just as well that my father 
 had not realised how very young a chaperon Mrs 
 Hamilton was. We stayed at an hotel only for 
 a few days, and then moved into a charming 
 
MY LIFE CHANGES 11 
 
 little bungalow which the Hamiltons had rented 
 from some friends who lived at Simla altogether. 
 She was young — she was really much younger 
 than I, although she was three-and-twenty, and 
 I was not yet eighteen — she was gay, she had 
 plenty of money, and she denied herself nothing. 
 Every indulgence which she granted herself she 
 set down to the score of Jack's wish that she 
 should not mope. Surely Jack must have been 
 the most complacent husband to be found in the 
 length and breadth of India — of the world, for 
 that matter. She had the smartest dresses, the 
 most gorgeous liveries, gave the most cheery little 
 tiffins and dinners, and she went here, there and 
 everywhere, knew everybody, and was a universal 
 favourite. Being her house - companion, I, too, 
 went everywhere and knew everybody. I was 
 not, perhaps, such a universal favourite, because 
 I lacked her wonderful flow of spirits, and her 
 tremendous amount of enterprise ; but, all the 
 same, I managed to have a very good time, and 
 in every letter that I wrote to my father, I sang 
 my little hostess's praises, and begged him to 
 hurry along as quickly as he could that he 
 might come up and share our fun. He always 
 wrote back in the same strain — "Enjoy yourself 
 all you can. Delighted you are having such a 
 lovely time. Don't stint yourself. I trust to your 
 good sense and discretion not to overrun the con- 
 stable too much." 
 
 But he always put me off about his leaving 
 Muggrapore. At last I asked him plainly how it 
 was that neither he nor Captain Hamilton were 
 able to come up at anything like the time which 
 they had expected. In answer to this question 
 
12 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 he replied that things were not going very well 
 at the station, that we were neither of us to worry, 
 but that it would be impossible for any officers to 
 leave just at present. " There are rumours of 
 trouble in various quarters," he wrote ; " the health 
 of the troops is not very good, and we may be 
 wanted at any moment. You need not make your- 
 self at all uneasy, only you must get along without 
 me for a little time longer." 
 
 How Mrs Hamilton's Jack contrived to satisfy her 
 I never quite knew. She used to seize his letters 
 eagerly enough to have satisfied the fondest husband 
 in the world, glance them down, utter an exclamation 
 of disgust and dismay, saying, " There now ! Jack's 
 leave put off again ! It is iniquitous ! I believe it 
 is nothing but that horrid old Lady Lonsford, who 
 has always been disagreeable and detestable to me, 
 and who hates me like poison. I daresay she's being- 
 horrid to Jack now just because of my flirting a bit 
 with the old General. But I'll flirt with him when 
 I go back again ; you just see if I don't pay that old 
 lady out ! " 
 
 " Perhaps she is flirting with your Jack," I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "Yes, perhaps she is. And perhaps my Jack is 
 flirting with one of his own chargers," Mrs Hamilton 
 flashed out. 
 
 Lady Lonsford was rather like a horse, and I could 
 not help laughing at the implied simile. 
 
 However, she put the letter away in the drawer 
 where she always kept those from her husband, and 
 after a minute or two said, — " Well, it's no use our 
 wasting our time grizzling here all day, Dorothy. 
 Let us get ready to go to the Macdonalds." 
 
 To have seen her an hour later, the gayest of the 
 
MY LIFE CHANGES 13 
 
 gay, surrounded by at least a dozen of the best men 
 in the place, nobody would have believed that she had 
 ever been troubled even by a passing cloud. For 
 myself, I was, of course, intensely disappointed that 
 my father had not been able to come as I had expected 
 and as he had arranged, but I could not help seeing 
 the wisdom of her suggestion that we should make 
 the best of a bad business, and be as happy as we 
 could without our men folk. 
 
 I remember that it was at that party at Mrs Mac- 
 donald's that I first met a man who possessed any real 
 interest for me. Men I knew by the dozen, offers I 
 had had in plenty, partners — why, I could have had 
 fifty of them at every dance I went to. It was no 
 unusual thing for me to find the Viceroy's A.D.C. at 
 my shoulder with an intimation that His Excellency 
 wished for the next dance. I was very young, and I 
 took it all as it came, enjoyed myself thoroughly 
 from morning till night, and wished with all my girl's 
 heart, at the end of every entertainment, that it could 
 begin and happen all over again. Until I met Captain 
 Hamlyn I had thought of all men as being one as 
 good as another, and had been absolutely impartial 
 in my behaviour towards them. But from the first 
 moment of meeting him things were different with 
 me. I do not know why it was. He was not especially 
 good-looking; in fact, a good many people thought 
 that he was rather ugly. He was the regular type of 
 a cavalry officer, long of limb, lean without being 
 skinny, walked with a swinging, soldierly gait, had 
 brown curly hair, cut so close to his head that you 
 could see no more than a wave in it, and a very sun- 
 burnt face, about which there was nothing at all 
 in particular excepting a pair of very blue eyes and 
 a carefully-trained, reddish moustache. He was the 
 
14 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 kind of man that one sees about a military station 
 every day of one's life, a man with nothing especially 
 distinctive or particularly individual about him. He 
 was well dressed, like every other man of his station, 
 his manners were good, as the manners of men of his 
 class always are, perhaps his most noticeable charac- 
 teristic was a singularly smooth and pleasant voice, 
 and an easy, friendly sort of manner, about which 
 there was not the very smallest trace of affectation. 
 
 He was introduced to me by Mrs Macdonald her- 
 self, and as there was dancing going on he asked me 
 to honour him with a waltz just then beginning. He 
 danced to perfection, and before we had taken two 
 turns round the big marquee, which had been erected 
 on the lawn for the occasion, he told me that he had 
 not met with any lady since he came to India whose 
 step suited him so well as mine did. This led, 
 naturally, to my asking him how long he had been 
 out. He told me that he had not been in India quite 
 a year ; then, when the dance was over, he drew me 
 away down a secluded walk of the charming garden, 
 and found me a very comfortable seat, where we were 
 able to talk in complete retirement. 
 
 He had, I learned, come out to India with the 23rd 
 Dragoons, and chiefly with an idea that he would find 
 his reward in the way of sport. On the whole, he had 
 been disappointed, both in India itself and in the 
 sport which it afforded. " I shall exchange as soon as 
 I reasonably can," he said. 
 
 " But you like Simla? " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I like Simla very much. It is a fine 
 place. Very go-ahead, you know, Miss Massingham." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know that it is," I replied. " Is it 
 more go-ahead than any other places that you have 
 been in ? " 
 
MY LIFE CHANGES 15 
 
 " Very much more. Compare it, for instance, with 
 London." 
 
 "I can't," I said, with a laugh, "because I have 
 never been in London in my life." 
 
 " You have never been in London ? You have 
 never been home? But you were not brought up 
 in India?" 
 " Yes, I was." 
 
 " Really ? " He turned and looked at me with the 
 utmost surprise. " You astonish me," he said. 
 
 " But why ? I don't see that there is anything to 
 be astonished at. I was brought up in Simla, or 
 almost entirely so." 
 
 "You don't mean it? And do you live in Simla 
 all the year round ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. I am only staying here with Mrs 
 Hamilton," I told him. " I am most of the year 
 down at Muggrapore with my father." 
 " Oh ! Your father is at Muggrapore ? " 
 " Yes. He is in command of the 110th Native 
 Lancers at Muggrapore." 
 
 " Yes. Oh, that is the place where they have got 
 the cholera so badly." He blurted the words out and 
 then looked at me apprehensively. 
 
 " I don't think they have cholera at Muggrapore," 
 1 replied. 
 
 " Oh, but they have. The men are dying like 
 sheep there. Is it possible you didn't know ? I — 
 I — ought not to have told you. Oh, Miss Massingham, 
 I am so sorry. Perhaps I muddled the name of the 
 place. You know these Indian stations are not very 
 familiar to me as yet. Don't think about it until you 
 have made sure." 
 
 I knew from his manner, however, that he was 
 right, and that suddenly explained to me the reason 
 
16 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 why my father's leave had been put off so many 
 times; indeed, he had said in his last letter to me 
 that the health of the troops was not very good. 
 Probably, if he had spoken the whole truth, he would 
 have said that the health of the troops was exceedingly 
 bad. 
 
 Captain Hamlyn made the most heroic efforts to 
 prevent my thoughts from dwelling more than was 
 necessary on the information which he had let slip. 
 He told me a great deal about himself, about his 
 home and his own people. He described London to 
 me very graphically, far more so than either my 
 father or mother had ever done. He told me all 
 about the wide streets, with the ceaseless stream of 
 human life ever moving to and fro, he described 
 some of the great palaces and mansions, and told me 
 a great deal about the wide, swift river flowing 
 silently, yet full of life, through the great city. He 
 tried to make me picture some of the churches and 
 historic buildings, and then he told me of the parks 
 and the endless strings of perfectly-appointed car- 
 riages moving up and down the Row. " Of course, 
 here," he said, " where one meets the same people 
 over and over again, where everybody has exactly 
 the same interests, and everything goes by officialism, 
 where one old Johnnie is jealous of another old 
 Johnnie because he happens to have been three days 
 longer frizzling out in the sunshine, and all the old 
 Johnnie's wives are ready to fly at one another's 
 throats for no earthly reason whatever, it does seem 
 rather petty and small compared to a really big 
 population full of so many and such varied interests 
 as London. For myself, I like London," he said with 
 a half sigh. " I came out to India, and found it all 
 rather a delusion and a snare. Big sport? Yes, 
 
MY LIFE CHANGES 17 
 
 but it costs such a heap of money, and is so difficult 
 to get at, and such a little thing spoils the whole 
 show. Gorgeous climate ? Well, it may be gorgeous 
 to have the cholera, and to have a sunshine that 
 blisters your fingers if you happen to trust them 
 outside your verandah for five minutes. It may be 
 gorgeous to have beastly insects crawling about you 
 day and night, and it may be gorgeous to have twenty 
 servants where three would do the work better, but 
 I think it is rather a comfortless kind of existence 
 compared with what one gets at home. No, Miss 
 Massingham, India is all very well for those who do 
 not get a good time in England, but for those who 
 have got enough to live upon and a decent position 
 to fill, believe me, England is the place of places, and 
 London the centre of civilisation. Now there are 
 some fellows," he went on, "in the Service at home 
 who grumble and growl from morning till night 
 because they find themselves quartered at Aldershot. 
 I never could see myself what there is to grumble at 
 in Aldershot, for in the first place one gets a chance 
 of work — of intelligent work — learning something 
 about one's profession; no soldier ought to grumble 
 at that. Then one has a chance of making a mark, 
 that every soldier who is a soldier ought to value. 
 Then one gets a blessed season-ticket, and one goes 
 off to London whenever one gets a chance." 
 
 " And how far is London from Aldershot ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh, thirty miles. You can slip up to town 
 when your day's work is over, get your dinner and 
 do a theatre and be back again in time for a decent 
 night's rest. After all, what can any man want 
 better than that ? " 
 
 I looked round at the quiet, enchanting view which 
 
 B 
 
18 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 spread itself on all sides of us. We were seated 
 on a flat ledge at the extreme end of Mrs Mac- 
 don aid's garden. The bungalow itself stood on a 
 plateau of rock, so that the trees and brush which 
 covered the hill rose beyond it, making a charming 
 background. Behind it the garden, which was very 
 long, stretched away in a sloping direction along the 
 side of the ghaut. The seat which we had found 
 was at the extreme end of the garden, quite a long 
 way from the bungalow, and we could look down 
 hundreds of feet below us. 
 
 "And is London pretty?" I asked. "Is it as 
 pretty as this ? " 
 
 Captain Hamlyn laughed outright. "It is not 
 anything like this," he replied, " and yet when you 
 see it and know it I have little doubt that you will 
 prefer it infinitely to Simla." 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A SIMLA LOVE STORY 
 
 I DID not like to tell Mrs Hamilton anything that I 
 had heard about their having the cholera badly at 
 Muggrapore, but during the course of that evening I 
 happened to find myself talking to a Mrs MacAndrew, 
 who was our nearest neighbour, and I asked her if she 
 had heard the report, and if she thought there was 
 any truth in it. 
 
 "Oh, my dear," she said, "if your father has not 
 told you anything about it, I should not worry 
 myself if I were you. You know these unfortunate 
 natives are so dirty and so unsanitary in their habits, 
 they are always getting cholera and things. After 
 one has been in India for a while, one gets to take 
 no notice of rumours of that kind. Probably if you 
 were in Muggrapore at this moment, you would not 
 know that there was a single case of cholera in the 
 entire station. Now, I have a sister out in China, her 
 husband is a sort of mandarin out there — " 
 
 " What ! Did she marry a Chinaman ? " I ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 "No, no," replied Mrs MacAndrew, with a laugh, 
 "but he has got a very good appointment, and he 
 gives himself the airs of at least a dozen mandarins. 
 We always call him ' the Mandarin ' at home. Well, 
 the other day I wrote to her and said that I was so 
 fearfully sorry to see by the English papers that they 
 had the plague so frightfully out in Canton, and I 
 
 19 
 
20 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 didn't sleep for nights, I couldn't get my sister and 
 her dreadful position out of my head. My dear, she 
 wrote back by return mail and said, 'Don't upset 
 yourself about the plague in Canton. I made in- 
 quiries after I received your letter, and I found they 
 had had the plague rather badly down in the native 
 quarter, but until then we did not know anything 
 about it.' So, my dear," Mrs MacAndrew went on, 
 "I don't think you need upset yourself about any 
 cholera they may be having down at Muggrapore. 
 What does Mrs Hamilton say about it ? " 
 
 " Oh, I didn't tell her that I had heard anything," 
 I replied. 
 
 "Well, if I were you," said Mrs MacAndrew, 
 promptly, "I would not do so, because, you see, she 
 has not been very long out, and she might worry 
 herself to fiddle-strings." 
 
 In my own mind, I did not think Mrs Hamilton 
 was at all a woman who would worry herself to 
 fiddle-strings from any cause, but it was no use 
 saying so to anyone else. So I allowed Mrs Mac- 
 Andrew's remark to pass in silence. 
 
 I did mention the cholera to father when I wrote 
 to him again. I mentioned it in a casual kind of 
 way, told him that I had heard that the cholera was 
 rather bad at Muggrapore, and asked whether it was 
 true. His reply was extremely reassuring. " I hope 
 you have not been thinking too much of this cholera 
 rumour," he wrote. " There is cholera in the native 
 lines, but then that is no new thing, it would be 
 much more unusual if there were none. Pray don't 
 allow yourself to get nervous about it. Tell Mrs 
 Hamilton that her husband is looking very fit and 
 well, and that we shall probably come up to Simla 
 together when we do manage to get away." 
 
A SIMLA LOVE STOItY 21 
 
 I did tell Mrs Hamilton. She gave a sigh, and a 
 cloud came over her blue eyes. "Poor, dear old 
 Jack ! " she said. " It is hard that I should be 
 enjoying myself up here and he be frizzling down in 
 that hateful old Muggrapore. I don't know why, 
 if we have got to India, and to serve half our time 
 in such a hateful country, that they could not quarter 
 us in decent stations. It seems so stupid to pick out 
 all the most horrid and unhealthy cities in India to 
 plant the troops in and make military stations of ! " 
 
 The next moment she asked me whether it was not 
 time to dress, and all signs of a cloud had absolutely 
 vanished from her laughing face. For myself, I may 
 as well confess that I never gave the cholera another 
 thought. My life seemed from that time forward to 
 be filled up with the personality of one individual ; 
 that individual was Captain Hamlyn of the 23rd 
 Dragoons. It was natural enough, as he said at 
 first, that we should meet everywhere. You cannot 
 get out of anybody's way in a place like Simla, and 
 as I did not try to get out of his and he unmistakably 
 did everything he could to get into mine, it was 
 equally natural that we were together morning, 
 noon and night. 
 
 I think, on the whole, that the mornings were our 
 best time. Mrs Hamilton and I always rode through 
 the cool and pleasant air. She was an excellent 
 horsewoman, and generally used to lead the way 
 with two or three devoted squires in attendance upon 
 her. I began with a variety of attendance, but after 
 Captain Hamlyn came upon the scene, they gradually 
 dwindled away until he was the only one to be found 
 at my saddle-bow. So we used to lag behind, just keep- 
 ing my gay little chaperon in sight, sometimes barely 
 that ; and it was during one of these rides, when he 
 
22 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 had been up in Simla nearly three weeks, that he sug- 
 gested to me that we should cast in our lot together 
 and make our morning companionship into a compact 
 for the rest of our lives. 
 
 " You know," he said to me, leaning over to lay his 
 hand upon my horse's neck, " I have never been really 
 hard hit in my life before. That was one of the rea- 
 sons why I did not mind coming out to India for a year 
 or two. My people were distinctly against my doing 
 so, because my father has not been dead very long, and 
 my mother hated the idea of my being out of England. 
 She wanted me to marry and settle down ; but, as I 
 told her, a poor man cannot very well marry on no- 
 thing — no, don't look like that. I am not asking you 
 quite to share nothing. I have a few hundreds a year 
 besides my pay, and I shall have more at my mother's 
 death, but I am not what you would call well off. I 
 thought I was perfectly safe in coming to India ; 
 that I should never meet any lady out here to fall 
 in love with, but you see I was utterly wrong. And 
 somehow, as you have been all your life out here, I 
 do not feel that it is the same hardship to ask you 
 to stay out a little longer for my sake. There, I have 
 put it very lamely. I know it; but, Dorothy, can't 
 you see what I mean ? I am not much of a catch, 
 dear, but I am desperately in love with you, and I 
 would stay out here for the rest of my life quite cheer- 
 fully and contentedly if I thought that you would be 
 willing and content to stay with me." 
 
 I did not directly answer this, for I had nothing to 
 say. I liked him, oh, yes! The sight of his blue 
 eyes and bronzed face was enough at any moment to 
 put my whole heart in a flutter. The touch of his 
 hand made my heart thrill and thrill again. I liked 
 everything about him — his heart-whole laugh, the 
 
A SIMLA LOVE STORY 23 
 
 flash of his white teeth, the turn of his well-cropped 
 head, the set of his shoulders — everything about him 
 pleased and satisfied me. After all, I had not been 
 accustomed to much luxury or to great wealth, and 
 what was I, to look for so much in a husband ? I was 
 no beauty, or, at least, I had never thought so. 
 
 " Haven't you anything to say to me ? " he asked 
 wistfully, after a moment's pause. 
 
 " I don't know what to say," I said half -shyly. 
 
 He laughed outright. " Then don't say it," he re- 
 joined promptly. "I will say it for you. I know 
 what you mean. You are just as fond of me as I am 
 of you ; isn't that about it ? " 
 
 And then I admitted that that was exactly it, and 
 somehow we lagged farther and farther behind the 
 others, and when we got back to the bungalow, we 
 had quite made up our minds as to the future. 
 
 For the first time, Captain Hamlyn came into the 
 house with us. "Mrs Hamilton," he said, half -hesi- 
 tatingly, as we reached the door, " you might give me 
 some breakfast this morning." 
 
 " Why, surely," she replied. " Does that mean that 
 you have been pining for breakfast on other mornings 
 and that we have neglected to ask you ? If so, that 
 was exceedingly remiss of Dorothy." 
 
 " I certainly have never asked him ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Dorothy, my dear," said Mrs Hamilton, " you will 
 find out by-and-by that men things are always the 
 better and more complacent for being fed." 
 
 " I don't think that I wanted Captain Hamlyn to 
 be more complacent," I rejoined. 
 
 " Oh — oh ! I see. Well, come in, Captain Hamlyn. 
 If she won't make you welcome, I will." 
 
 He followed her into the pretty drawing-room — 
 and it was a pretty room ; looking back after all these 
 
24 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 years, I still carry in my mind's eye the charming 
 picture of its snowy draperies, its wealth of flowers 
 and the profusion of green plants with which my 
 hostess had decked it. 
 
 " The fact is, Mrs Hamilton," I heard him say, in a 
 very confidential tone — and then I scurried out of 
 hearing, because I realised that he was going to tell 
 her how things were between us. 
 
 I was already out of my grey habit, and into my 
 fresh white muslin gown before she came to my 
 room. " Why, Dorothy, you sly little witch," she 
 exclaimed, as she entered, "who was to know that 
 you meant serious business all this time ? He has 
 told me all about it, my dear. I congratulate you 
 with all my heart. He says he is not well-off, but 
 I don't know that that makes much difference. 
 His family is good, and he himself is charming, 
 and I should think your father will be very much 
 pleased indeed. I should be if I were in his 
 place." 
 
 " I think that Father will only be pleased because I 
 am pleased," I said with a half sigh as I remembered 
 him, for truly, I had not given him a thought up to 
 that moment. 
 
 " Well, dear, well, it is what men with pretty 
 daughters in India must expect and look for ; at all 
 events, if they neither expect nor look for it, it is 
 what they will get — that other men shall come along 
 and appreciate them." 
 
 " But I am not pretty," I exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, is that your genuine opinion, Miss Modesty ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed it is," I cried. 
 
 " Well, I don't agree with you, and I don't suppose 
 your father would agree with you, and I feel quite 
 sure that Captain Hamlyn would not agree with you 
 
A SIMLA LOVE STORY 25 
 
 either. It is delightful to think that so pretty a 
 little person should have such a modest opinion of 
 herself. I like you better for not thinking yourself 
 at all attractive, Dorothy." And then she drew me 
 to her, kissed me several times with a motherliness 
 which I did not think she had in her, and, pushing 
 me away with a laugh, declared that she must fly to 
 change her habit. " Do you go along and play pretty 
 hostess to that nice young man," was her last laugh- 
 ing admonition. 
 
 I finished my toilet and then went back to the 
 little drawing-room, where I found my impatient 
 lover awaiting me. " What an unconscionable time 
 you have been ! " was his greeting. 
 
 " Oh, no ! I have been very quick indeed, a very 
 short time," I replied airily. " You will often have 
 to wait for me much longer than this." 
 
 " Then," he said promptly, " you cannot care for 
 me half as much as I do for you." 
 
 " Perhaps I don't, then." He caught hold of me. 
 
 " But you do, Dorothy ; you do, you know you 
 do. You know you are awfully in love with me. If 
 you are not, you ought to be, because I am so tre- 
 mendously in love with you." 
 
 " I would certainly give you time to change your 
 clothes," I persisted. "Besides, Mrs Hamilton came 
 in to give me her version of the situation." 
 
 " And she said — ? " he asked eagerly. 
 
 " Oh, she seems to think you are all right." 
 
 " Of course she thinks I am all right ; anybody 
 but a match-making parent would think I was all 
 right," he declared stoutly. " But, Dorothy, only one 
 thought troubles me — Is your father anything of a 
 match-making parent ? " 
 
 He put the question to me so solemnly, and in such 
 
26 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 evident good faith, that I could not help laughing 
 aloud. "My father," I said, "married, himself, for 
 love pure and simple. I do not think that he will 
 ask whether you are rich, his first question will be 
 whether I care for you." 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 DOREMY 
 
 "I THINK," said Captain Hamlyn, during that first 
 joyous little breakfast, "that I shall go down to 
 Huggrapore and see your father myself." 
 
 " Oh, I wouldn't do that," said Mrs Hamilton. " I 
 think if you write it will be quite as much as Colonel 
 Massingham will expect or wish for." 
 
 " Well, perhaps that is so," he said doubtfully, " but 
 to my mind, one interview is worth a hundred 
 letters." 
 
 "It is a long way to Muggrapore," said Mrs 
 Hamilton, warningly, " as we know by bitter experi- 
 ence — eh, Dorothy ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is a long way to Muggrapore," I returned. 
 " And my father is not the kind of person who insists 
 upon out-of-the-way attentions." 
 
 " Why don't you write fully and offer to go 
 down ? " suggested Mrs Hamilton. " It would look 
 pretty and attentive, and as if you were anxious 
 to do the right thing." 
 
 " I am," he said stoutly. 
 
 " Of course, you are, I know that you are, but it is 
 no joke going down at this time of the year to Mug- 
 grapore and coming back again. It is such a waste 
 of time and money ; and you have to think of ways 
 and means now, you know." 
 
 27 
 
28 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 ' Yes, that is so," he admitted, with a rather rueful 
 glance at me." 
 
 " If you offer to go down, that will be all that is 
 necessary. Colonel Massingham will then see that 
 you are really desperately in earnest. And, ten 
 chances to one, he is just on the eve of coming up 
 for his own leave, so your journey and your money 
 and your time, and your patience and your strength 
 will all have been exhausted for nothing. Oh, believe 
 me, you had better write. Tell him everything 
 there is to tell about you, and say that if he wishes 
 it you will be delighted to go down to Muggrapore 
 and — show yourself." 
 
 Eventually this was the course he took, and when 
 his letter had gone we set ourselves to await with 
 such patience as we could my father's reply and 
 decision. 
 
 " What do you think your father will say, 
 Doremy ? " he asked me at least twenty times during 
 the course of the next few hours. 
 
 "Oh — I think he will say that I am much too 
 young to dream of marrying or even of being engaged." 
 
 " Do you really think so ? " 
 
 "Yes, really. Then I think he will say that in 
 addition to not thinking much of my age as qualify- 
 ing me for matrimony, he does not think very much 
 of you as a prospective son-in-law, and that as a 
 matter of fact he has some hideous old nabob up his 
 sleeve to whom he intends to sell me as soon as I go 
 back to Muggrapore." 
 
 " Doremy," said my sweetheart, sternly, " you are 
 laughing at me. Doremy, it is very wrong to laugh 
 at your husband." 
 
 " It is very wrong of you to give your future wife 
 nicknames," I retorted. 
 
DOREMY 29 
 
 He caught me nearer to him. " I like to give you 
 a name all of my own," he said, suddenly dropping 
 his teasing tone and speaking very tenderly ; " I like 
 to feel that there is something about you, even your 
 name, which nobody but I can share, which belongs 
 to me, to myself alone. I like your sweet, soft-sound- 
 ing name of Dorothy ; it is the prettiest name in the 
 world, but everybody calls you Dorothy, everybody 
 who knows you — Mrs Hamilton, Mrs MacAndrew 
 with the red hair and the teeth, she calls you Dorothy. 
 I am sure your father calls you Dorothy, too." 
 
 " No, my father never calls me Dorothy. He calls 
 me Dottikins." 
 
 " Dottikins ? That is an insult." 
 
 "Ah, but you see he doesn't think of me as you 
 do." 
 
 " No, no, but Dottikins ! It is a profanation ! 
 Dearest, you will never let anybody but me call you 
 Doremy, will you ? " 
 
 Oh, well, you know the way lovers talk ; young 
 lovers, as we were — I, a child of eighteen, he not yet 
 six-and-twenty. He insisted upon having my promise, 
 insisted with an eagerness which such a promise was 
 not worth. And I — I gave it. And so from that 
 time forward I was never any more Dorothy to him 
 excepting on our wedding-day, and he always called 
 me by the quaint little name that he had coined out 
 of his love and tenderness — just Doremy. 
 
 I did not tell him so, but I wrote to my father at 
 once, and told him everything that there was to tell 
 about nry sweetheart. I daresay it was very inco- 
 herent, and probably Mrs Hamilton's letter, which 
 went at the same time as mine, was much more 
 explicit as to Captain Hamlyn's standing and per- 
 sonality Be that as it may, as soon as could possibly 
 
30 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 be, Captain Hamlyn received a reply from Muggrapore, 
 in which my father said : — " I am coming up to Simla 
 in a few days and shall be very glad to talk over the 
 entire situation with you. From what I hear of you 
 I do not see that there can be the slightest objection 
 to your marrying Dorothy, more especially as my 
 little girl seems to have set her heart upon you. It 
 is no use my pretending," the letter went on, " that I 
 am glad to lose my only child in this way. To be quite 
 frank with you, I am glad in one way but exceedingly 
 sorry in another. I shall be glad to feel that my 
 little girl is happily settled in life with a man whom 
 she can love and respect. I have not much to give 
 her, but whatever I have will be hers eventually. 
 Perhaps I ought not to say it, and yet I feel that I 
 honestly can say that, in winning her, you have 
 won a treasure. She is what her mother was before 
 her, a good, true, loyal and unselfish little girl. If 
 this marriage comes about I only hope and pray that 
 you will treat her as she deserves to be treated." 
 
 I could not help crying a little over my dear 
 father's letter. It was so simple, so honest, so full 
 of love for me, and so unselfish. If I was unselfish, 
 as he said, I had indeed learned to be so from know- 
 ing him, for surely a less selfish man than my father 
 never lived upon this earth. As for Captain Hamlyn, 
 or Eddy, as I had taken to calling him, that letter 
 served to put him into the highest and wildest spirits. 
 
 " He may say ' no ' in the end," I said warningly, 
 when he was speaking quite as a certainty of our 
 future life together, " and then where will you be ? " 
 
 " My dearest child," he replied, " no man on earth 
 could be such a brute as to say ' no ' after writing me 
 a letter like this. It seems to me, young woman," he 
 went on severely, " that you are beginning very badly 
 
DOEEMY 31 
 
 with me. Your main idea is to make your bear dance, 
 to keep me on the grill and to take rises out of me. 
 Don't you think you ought to be very much ashamed 
 of yourself ? " 
 
 " No," I replied, " I think it is far better for you to 
 find out all my faults and all my shortcomings before 
 we are married, so that if you wish to change your 
 mind you can do so before it is too late." 
 
 " Change my mind ! " he repeated. " Why, what 
 next ? I shall never change my mind, never as long 
 as the world is round." 
 
 "Oh, don't say that," I said, half sighing, "don't 
 say that ! I have never been very sure myself that 
 the world is round." 
 
 " But it is." 
 
 " But we do not know it. We only half believe the 
 wise men who tell us it is. I believe that it is like a 
 flat cheese, and I don't believe it is really round." 
 
 " Well, I will qualify my assertion," he exclaimed 
 with a laugh, " and I will say that I will never change 
 my mind about you as long as the world is a world. 
 There, will that satisfy you % " 
 
 So we talked. Oh, how foolish it all was ! And we 
 meant it all, every word of it. 
 
 Well, it was less than a week after this that my 
 father suddenly turned up in Simla. He came with- 
 out warning, walking in upon us one morning at 
 breakfast as coolly and unconcernedly as if he had 
 come from the next bungalow. Of course, we were 
 not breakfasting alone, and when he had kissed me 
 and shaken hands half-a-dozen times with Mrs Hamil- 
 ton, he turned round to Captain Hamlyn and held 
 out his hand. 
 
 " I suppose I need not ask who you are ? " he said, 
 in his pleasant, cheery, friendly voice. " I am very 
 
32 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 pleased to see you. All the same, I think you are a 
 pretty trio to be trusted out by yourselves. Think of 
 this little miss here being a married woman ! Why, 
 it is preposterous ! " 
 
 " My mother was a married woman before she was 
 as old as I am," I returned stoutly, " and you never 
 thought she was too young to be married." 
 
 " No, I never did," he admitted, " I never did. You 
 are quite right, Dottikins, perfectly right. You gener- 
 ally are. You will find, Hamlyn," he remarked, turn- 
 ing with a laugh to my sweetheart, " you will find that 
 the easiest way to live in married life is to straightway 
 lay down one tenet — that the wife is always right ! " 
 
 "And was that what you did, sir?" Captain 
 Hamlyn asked. 
 
 " Well, as a matter of fact, she always was right," 
 my father replied, with the first trace of a cloud 
 which had passed over his face. 
 
 Later in the day the two men had a long talk 
 together, and by-and-by, when my sweetheart had 
 gone back to his hotel to dress for dinner, my father 
 found his way into my bedroom. " You are going to 
 dress, Dottikins ? " he said. " Well, I won't keep 
 you, child. I like that young man of yours. I 
 wanted to tell you so." 
 
 " Oh, daddy, dear, how kind and sweet and good 
 of you to like him." 
 
 " Is it such an impossible task ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, no ! But I did not quite expect you to look 
 at him with my eyes." 
 
 " No, no, but I want to do so, and I am glad to be 
 able to do so. He is a fine fellow, Dottikins. Not 
 rich, but what is money when it is put against happi- 
 ness ? A mere trifle, a nothing, a thing not worth 
 considering. You will have enough, as much as you 
 
DOREMY 33 
 
 have always been used to. You have done better 
 than finding a gold mine. I like your young man 
 he is a man, and a fine attractive fellow into the 
 bargain. I like everything about him ; he wants to 
 be married at once ; he would not be half as fine a 
 fellow if he didn't. And I don't know that I see 
 the good of waiting. I did not have to wait long my- 
 self — it was too long, though the time seemed short 
 to everybody excepting ourselves. I leave it to you 
 two to settle when and where the knot shall be tied." 
 
 He had evidently said as much to Eddy himself, 
 for, when I went into the drawing-room, dressed for 
 dinner, I found him already there and completely full 
 of the subject. 
 
 "Why, you must have dressed like a flash of 
 lightning ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " And you must have dressed like a slow coach," he 
 retorted. 
 
 "No, I did not. But my father came into my 
 room, and that hindered me for a little while." 
 
 " Yes ? And what did he say ? " 
 
 " Oh— different things." 
 
 "Did he tell you that he would leave the final 
 details to us ? " 
 
 " The final details of what ? " 
 
 " Of our marriage." 
 
 " Well — something of the kind." 
 
 "That we might be married when and where we 
 like?" 
 
 " Well— something like that." 
 
 " Then we might say — " 
 
 " To-morrow morning," I suggested. 
 
 " No, miss, not to-morrow morning. But we might 
 say, here in Simla, in a fortnight or three weeks at 
 the outside." 
 
34 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 " Oh, Eddy ! But that is rushing it." 
 
 " No, it is not rushing it. As marriages go, out in 
 this country, it is quite a respectable, veteran sort of 
 an engagement. You will have ample time to get a 
 new frock made for the occasion, and we should get it 
 over before there is a chance of your father having to 
 go back to Muggrapore." 
 
 " Oh, but he has come up for long leave." 
 
 " Well, dearest, leave is very doubtful just now for 
 any of us. Things are not going too well in various 
 quarters, and your father might be recalled at any 
 moment." 
 
 " Did he say so ? " 
 
 " Well, he mentioned it as a possibility." 
 
 " I don't think that they could be so inhuman as to 
 recall him before he has had his leave out," I said 
 disbelievingly. 
 
 " Oh, my dear child, if anything happens out of the 
 common, nobody cares whether we have finished our 
 leave or not. Besides that, I might be recalled, and 
 if I have to be recalled, I would rather take you with 
 
 n 
 
 me. 
 
 He certainly gave me no peace during the next few 
 days, and eventually our marriage was settled to take 
 place in something less than three weeks' time. 
 
 And it did take place then, but my father was not 
 present to give me away, for several days previous to 
 the date which we had fixed he came home with a 
 very grave face. 
 
 " Dottikins," he said, " I am afraid I have very bad 
 news for you." 
 
 " Oh, Father, what is it ? " I cried. 
 
 " Well, I have been recalled." 
 
 " Not to Muggrapore ? " 
 
 " Yes, to Muggrapore." 
 
DOREMY 35 
 
 " Is there no getting out of it ? " 
 
 " No possible chance of getting out of it," he replied 
 promptly. 
 
 " But my wedding ! " I cried blankly. 
 
 " Oh, your wedding can come off without me. 
 Everybody will understand I am wanted down at 
 Muggrapore, my dear, and I must find some good 
 friend who will take my place for the occasion. I 
 shall wish you just the same happiness as if I were 
 standing beside you." 
 
 " But it must be put off," I cried. 
 
 " No, no, put-off weddings are not lucky, everybody 
 says the same thing. There is no reason why it 
 should be put off; in fact, there is all the more reason 
 why it should take place just the same. It is my 
 wish ; you will bear that in mind, Dottikins. It is 
 my wish that under no circumstances should your 
 wedding be postponed, even for a day." 
 
 Well, what could I say in the face of this, other 
 than that he should have his way, and that my mar- 
 riage should take place exactly as it had been origin- 
 ally arranged ? My father looked out an old friend, 
 who promised to escort me to the altar, and to give 
 me away in his stead, and the following day he bade 
 me good-bye more solemnly and with more gravity 
 than he had ever done in his life before. 
 
 "I feel sure," I said to him, just at the last, "that 
 you are keeping something back from me." 
 
 " No, no," he replied. " I am saying good-bye 
 to my little girl, that is all. You know you will 
 never be quite the same to me again." 
 
 " I shall never be any different to you," I cried. 
 
 " Oh, yes. You think not, but it is only right 
 and natural that you should be. Dottikins," he 
 added earnestly, " don't think that I am grudging 
 
36 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 you to Hamlyn. He is a good fellow, and you will 
 always remember that I liked him, that I liked 
 everything I saw of him, and everything that I have 
 heard of him. You have chosen very wisely, my 
 child. I am pleased and satisfied with you." 
 
 I kept up fairly well until my father was really 
 gone, then I broke down and cried — well, as only 
 the young do cry. It is in after life that one learns 
 what terrible grief tearless grief is. I remember 
 I cried that day until I was ill and exhausted, and 
 not all my sweetheart's tenderness and love could 
 help me to shake off the awful foreboding of coming 
 trouble which overshadowed and oppressed me. 
 
 " Come, come," he said ; " you are making a very 
 poor show for a soldier's daughter. What sort of a 
 soldier's wife will you be, do you think, if you are 
 upset like this by a mere matter of business ? " 
 
 'It isn't a mere matter of business !" I exclaimed. 
 " They might have left him. He has only one child, 
 and she doesn't get married every day. It is a 
 special occasion. They might have left him for 
 once. It wouldn't have been so hard if he could 
 have stayed just to see us married. But to be mar- 
 ried without him ! I would rather have waited." 
 
 "But it was your father's wish that you should 
 not wait. I am quite willing to do what you like," 
 he said, suddenly dropping his bantering tone, and 
 speaking very gravely. " You know that, Doremy, 
 surely ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes. I will go on. I will do just as 
 Father told me, but you must admit it is hard. 
 Why should he have been recalled, and recalled so 
 soon when he has so much leave owing to him ? " 
 
 " Because he is wanted down at Muggrapore. And, 
 after all you know dearest, a soldier's duty, whether 
 
DOREMY 37 
 
 he is of greater or lesser importance, is his duty, 
 and should come first of anything with him. Of 
 course, your father being in command makes all 
 the difference in the world, and it would have a very 
 bad effect upon the troops if commanding officers 
 seemed willing to shirk what others of less import- 
 ance have to face." 
 
 " But what is there to shirk ? " 
 
 "Well, you know that the health of the troops 
 down at Muggrapore is not good. Hamilton has 
 never had a day's leave. I believe that your father 
 was given his wholly and solely on your account." 
 
 " But did he tell you so ? " 
 
 " He all but told me so." 
 
 " Do you mean that the cholera is worse at Muggra- 
 pore ? " 
 
 " It is very bad, and your father's presence there 
 tends to make the scare less general. It is one of 
 the penalties which a man has to pay for being a 
 popular commandant. Believe me, child, even in the 
 face of your wishes, of your wedding, he would not 
 have it otherwise. No real soldier would." 
 
 " I don't believe," I said, with what was almost a 
 moan, " that I shall ever see my father again." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 SORROW CLOUDS 
 
 Everybody said that ours was the prettiest wedding 
 that had taken place in Simla for years, and although 
 I was so disappointed and so upset to think that 
 my dear father was not able to be present at the cere- 
 mony, I was conscious during the whole time that in 
 every other respect the affair was exceedingly well 
 managed, and extremely gay and pleasant. 
 
 There were several of Captain Hamlyn's brother 
 officers staying in Simla at the time, and one of these, 
 a Mr Alaric St Leger, acted as his best man. 
 
 " Of course, in an ordinary way, I should have had 
 my cousin," he told me, when the question of his best 
 man was first mooted. " Old Bill and I have always 
 been the greatest possible chums, and if it had been 
 within the bounds of possibility to get him. I should 
 as soon have thought of jumping over that railing," 
 pointing to the rail protecting the edge of the chud, 
 " as of asking any other fellow to perform that good 
 office for me. But poor old Bill happened an accident 
 just before we left England, and had to stay at home 
 on sick leave, so that he has never been out with the 
 regiment at all." 
 
 " And he is the Honourable Edward Hamlyn, who 
 is in the 23rd ? " I remarked, for I had noticed when 
 glancing at an Army List one day that my sweetheart 
 was not the only man of his name in the 23rd. 
 
 38 
 
SORROW CLOUDS 39 
 
 " Yes, he is the other one, but he has always been 
 called Bill ever since I can remember anything. No, 
 I don't mean that his own people call him Bill, but he 
 was always called Bill at Harrow, and he was always 
 called Bill at Sandhurst." 
 
 "And were you at Harrow and Sandhurst to- 
 gether ? " 
 
 " No, we were not," he replied, " we were just of 
 an age to miss being together. I was at Harrow, 
 and I was at Sandhurst, but not at the same time as 
 my cousin ; in fact, he is five years younger than I am." 
 
 " And he is Lord Clovelly's son ? " 
 
 " Yes, he is. Lord Clovelly, you know, is my uncle. 
 Ah, Bill's a dear old chap ; never was a better fellow 
 going. Curious accident that was of his, just an un- 
 lucky hit with a cricket ball, but, by Jove, it laid him 
 on his back for six months ! And I hear that he is 
 only just beginning to get about again. I fancy, unless 
 he is quite lit, that he will stay with the depot instead 
 of coming out here next year. Naturally, his father 
 is very anxious about him, because, you see, he is the 
 only son." 
 
 " And you are the only son ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, but, of course, my life is not as precious as his." 
 
 " Perhaps not, to his father," I said, half reprov- 
 ingly, " to other people more so." 
 
 * Ah, you think so, dearest, you think so, but, really, 
 joking apart, he is the heir, and it is a precious life. 
 I should not be surprised if my uncle stopped his 
 coming- out altogether. I know when I was last down 
 at Clovelly he was not at all anxious that he should 
 stay in the Service." 
 
 " And he has sisters ? " 
 
 " Yes, he has several sisters." 
 
 " Married ? " 
 
40 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 " Some of them — that is, two of them. One is not 
 married." 
 
 " And is she nice ? " 
 
 •' Oh, yes, a delightful girl." 
 
 " Pretty ? " 
 
 " Ye-es, I suppose so," he replied, in the doubtful 
 way in which a man frequently does speak of his 
 sisters and his cousins. "One of them — the beauty 
 of the family — married a man in the Guards, and the 
 other married a big manufacturing chap. I never 
 could understand why she did, but I suppose she had 
 her reasons." 
 
 " I suppose she was in love with him," I exclaimed. 
 
 " Well, she might have been, of course. I never saw 
 him except on the day of the wedding. I didn't think 
 much of him, and Charlotte Hamlyn certainly did not 
 look as if she was particularly devoted." 
 
 " But she would not have married him if she had 
 not been in love with him," I persisted. 
 
 "She might not — no. But, as a matter of fact, I 
 don't think that she was. Women don't always marry 
 for love, you know, Doremy, even in England, and my 
 delightful cousins are rather hard young women; I 
 don't think the tender passion would enter very much 
 into their calculations. Now, with Bill things are 
 different. He is such a dear chap, such a good fellow, 
 such a chum, but he is very different to the girls; 
 everybody likes him. I don't think anybody is very 
 enthusiastic about them." 
 
 So it came about that in the absence of his cousin 
 Mr Alaric St Leger filled the place of best man at our 
 wedding. I had four very pretty bridesmaids, and 
 what with the uniforms, the gay dresses of the ladies, 
 the wonderful liveries of the different servants and 
 the profusion of flowers, our wedding was certainly 
 
SORROW CLOUDS 41 
 
 as gay a festivity as it had ever been my lot to 
 attend. 
 
 We had a strange quantity of presents, some of 
 great beauty, and none that were not worth having. 
 Everybody combined to wish us well, to help to make 
 the thing go, and when at last we went off on our 
 four days' honeymoon, which we spent at a little 
 bungalow a few miles away, it seemed as if our way 
 through life was likely to be one blaze of unbroken 
 sunshine. 
 
 As we left the church a telegram was put into my 
 hands. It was from my father, and read : " God bless 
 you, my darling. I am thinking of you and wishing 
 you all joy. With you in spirit always. — Father." 
 I gave it to Eddy as we got into the carriage without 
 a word. Precious as it was, I almost wished that I 
 had not received it, for it seemed to accentuate the 
 cloud which had hung so heavily over what should 
 have been, and what in reality was, otherwise the 
 happiest day of my life. But in the presence of an 
 intense happiness, clouds, even when they are very 
 dark and lowering, soon pass. I could not long be 
 unhappy. I was blissfully contented in my new exist- 
 ence ; with every moment I seemed to care more and 
 more for the man to whom I had given my life's troth. 
 He was so kind, so thoughtful, so considerate, so for- 
 getful of himself ; he always seemed as if he thought 
 only of me, and after all, what was I to inspire a love 
 so unselfish as over and over again he proved his for 
 me to be ? Mrs Hamilton had called me pretty, and 
 not she alone, but other people. Well, my looking- 
 glass told me quite otherwise. I was tall rather than 
 short, a slender creature, with a certain grace and 
 dignity in the carriage of head and throat which pro- 
 claimed itself even to my own unprejudiced eyes. I 
 
42 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 had a good skin and plenty of silky, dark hair which 
 had never known the torture of the curling tongs. I 
 had rather nice grey eyes and a nose that was straight 
 and small — a nose that had nothing distinctive about 
 it and was certainly not beautiful any more than the 
 rest of my face was. And yet my dear Eddy worshipped 
 me. If I had combined the beauties of every Venus 
 that the world has known in my one person he could 
 not have loved me with greater devotion or have 
 lavished more adoration upon me, He even consented 
 to take me down to Muggrapore that I might spend 
 the remaining part of his leave with my father. 
 
 "I do it against my better judgment, Doremy," 
 he said to me, "because I think it is foolish to run 
 into danger when you can possibly keep yourself out 
 of it, and, under any other circumstances, I should 
 say absolutely no ; but when I realise what it must 
 have been to your father to give you up to me, I feel 
 that it is not in me to say anything but yes to so 
 natural a desire. I will only ask you, dearest, while 
 we are there, to be guided by me in taking every pre- 
 caution for your safety. I love you for your pluck in 
 being willing to go, but I will have you remember that 
 pluck carried to excess becomes f oolhardiness, and you, 
 darling, are too sensible and too good to be foolhardy." 
 
 " There is nothing to show any particular pluck, 
 Eddy," I exclaimed. " This cholera is in the native 
 lines, not near our bungalow. I don't want to run in 
 and out of the native hospital doing sick nurse, and 
 that sort of thing. I want to go down and see my 
 father, that is all." 
 
 " Yes, I understand, dearest, I quite understand, but 
 it is only that I am so anxious, so uneasy at any 
 danger which may chance to threaten you, which 
 makes me take such extreme precaution for your 
 
SORROW CLOUDS 43 
 
 safety. I don't know that your father will not 
 blame me very severely for taking you at all. I 
 think we ought to have let him know before we 
 decided on going." 
 
 " Father would certainly say that I am not to go," 
 I said promptly. " Father is the most unselfish 
 person in the world, and he would put a stop to 
 our going for a certainty. And I have set my heart 
 upon seeing him, and spending a little time with him 
 before we go to join the regiment." 
 
 But we never did go down to Muggrapore. After 
 our honeymoon, which had extended into ten days 
 instead of four, we went back to Simla and spent 
 a few days there, intending to go from thence straight 
 down to Muggrapore. I well remember that the day 
 before our return to Simla I had my fortune told by 
 an old woman who came up to our bungalow for the 
 purpose. I had no belief in fortune-telling ; indeed, 
 I had had no experience of it. This particular old 
 soothsayer was a hideous specimen of native human- 
 ity, and she told me a great deal of rubbish which my 
 memory does not retain. Only one part of her sayings 
 stayed in my mind — " There is a curious want of 
 finality in your life," she told me, " there is no con- 
 tinuance ; you keep nothing for long, not at least in 
 the early part of your life, but your lord's heart 
 will be yours for ever, come weal, come woe, come 
 joy, triumph, sorrow, separation and parting, he will 
 still be yours to the very end of time." 
 
 I repeated what she said to Eddy, whose know- 
 ledge of Hindustani was naturally exceedingly 
 limited. " Give the old girl a good tip," he said, 
 with careless good-nature ; " after all, she has pro- 
 phesied about the only thing that is really worth 
 having." 
 
44 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 The old hag took the silver, which he jingled in 
 his hand towards her, and looked him searchingly 
 up and down. " Tell the Burra-sahib that he makes 
 too sure," she said to me ; " that is his greatest 
 fault, he makes too sure of getting what he wants. 
 He will have a fall one day that will blast his 
 dearest hopes. You stand both of you in a blaze 
 of sunshine, a glory of light ; but the sorrow clouds 
 are hovering very near, and one day they will come 
 down like a curtain and shut you away the one from 
 the other." 
 
 " What does she say ? " my husband asked. 
 
 I repeated the old soothsayer's words to him. " Oh, 
 come along, dearest, it is all rubbish ! " he remarked 
 contemptuously. " We have each other, and we have 
 our lives before us. Don't let us waste a minute of 
 the time over such trash as this." And then he 
 caught me by the arm and drew me away, leav- 
 ing the old woman muttering darkly where she 
 stood. 
 
 Without doubt she had told me a good deal that 
 was mere clap-trap. She had made shots as to my 
 past, some good, some indifferent, some totally wrong, 
 but, however good or bad she might be at her trade, 
 that one prophecy lingered in my mind, and before a 
 week had gone by part of it had come true, for on 
 the very eve of our departure from Simla to join my 
 father at Muggrapore, Mrs Hamilton received a tele- 
 gram from her husband bidding her break the news 
 to me that our journey was useless. 
 
 To this day I have never realised how, between 
 them, my husband and my friend contrived to break 
 the horrible tidings to me. I was hours before my 
 dazed brain could take in the fact that I had seen my 
 father for the last time — that he, of all others, so 
 
SORROW CLOUDS 45 
 
 cruelly recalled from his just leave of absence, had 
 fallen a victim to the fatal scourge which was devastat- 
 ing the native troops. 
 
 " It is what that old woman said ! " I cried despair- 
 ingly to my husband. " ' You are standing in a blaze 
 of sunshine, a glory of light, but the sorrow clouds are 
 hovering very near.' Oh, Eddy, Eddy ! It has come 
 true already ! Why did we ever let that old woman 
 come to me with her hideous prophecies ? It will all 
 come true. What else was it that she said ? ' One 
 day they will come down like a curtain and shut you 
 away the one from the other.' " 
 
 It was in vain that he tried to console me, in vain 
 that he swore all manner of vengeance upon the old 
 soothsayer if he should ever come within reach of her 
 again. I was young, I was well-nigh broken-hearted, 
 and not even the coming of a letter in the dear hand- 
 writing, which I should never receive again, tended to 
 comfort me. My dear, dear father — his last thought 
 had been for me. 
 
 " I am feeling horribly ill to-night, Dottikins," he 
 wrote to me, "and I doubt not that this diabolical 
 cholera has got a good tight grip of me this time. I 
 have weathered it before, but something tells me that 
 it is all up with me at last. This is only a line to bid 
 you happiness and God-speed for ever, and to express 
 my gratitude that Almighty God has permitted me 
 to see you happily and suitably married. I am leaving 
 you with an easy mind, feeling assured that Hamlyn 
 is a right good fellow, and will take care of you as 
 well as even I could wish. Too ill to write more 
 than to send my love and my last good wishes to 
 Hamlyn — my last hope that he will take care of you." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. " And so help me, 
 God, I will ! " said my husband, in a very solemn voice. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A JARRED NOTE IN A HARMONY 
 
 Looking back from my present standpoint to the 
 time of my father's death, I can only think that the 
 circumstances of my life at that period were designed 
 by Providence in especial mercy to my youth and in- 
 experience of the world. I have often since shud- 
 dered to think what would have happened to me if 
 my father had died leaving me an unprotected girl 
 in India. As it was, I was taken right away from 
 every association of my early life, I was spared all 
 the most harrowing details of my great loss, and in 
 my new life there was nothing which served in any 
 way to remind me of the old one. 
 
 The 23rd were then at a very good station in the 
 Punjaub, and we were lucky enough to secure a 
 charming little bungalow just vacated by an officer 
 on the staff who had gone home for a couple of years' 
 leave, so we had no trouble in settling down in our 
 new home. We had, indeed, a home ready-made for 
 us, for these people left us everything just as they 
 used it themselves — plate, linen, knick-knacks, and 
 even their domestic pets. It was very different for 
 me to go thus to Muttrahabad, straight into a charm- 
 ing home, with well-trained servants, and everything 
 comfortable and cosy to welcome me, than if I had 
 had to do as most young wives in India must, scrape 
 
 46 
 
A JARRED NOTE IN A HARMONY 47 
 
 along anyhow until we had got some sort of a home 
 put together. 
 
 It was surprising how it softened the blow of my 
 father's death. I felt as if I had got into a haven of 
 rest and peace from which I should never be ousted 
 again as long as I lived. And still, the old native 
 woman's gruesome prophecy stayed in my mind 
 persistently. I do not mean to imply that it always 
 stayed in my mind, but it came back from time to 
 time with more or less painful vividness — " There is 
 no finality in your life. You keep nothing long, at 
 least, not in the early part of your life." At such 
 times I had to remind myself of that other prophecy 
 of hers — " Your lord's heart will be yours always." 
 
 It was to Muttrahabad that my father's belongings 
 were all sent home, not the furniture of our bungalow 
 at Muggrapore, but all his and my personal belong- 
 ings. My own things had been packed up by my 
 father's orders immediately that my marriage was a 
 finally settled matter, and had been actually sent off 
 by him the week previous to his death, but Captain 
 Hamilton had gathered together everything that he 
 believed I should most value, the pictures, a few 
 choice books — as choice as anybody ever has in India, 
 that is to say — a few skins and rugs and various 
 personal odds and ends that my father had regularly 
 used. All other things were sold, as is the custom at 
 such times, and the money for these, together with 
 the little money that my father had had to leave, 
 was handed over to me in accordance with his last 
 will, strangely enough made and signed on the very 
 day of my wedding. He had not had very much to 
 leave — something over a thousand pounds. 
 
 "You had better put it along with your money, 
 Eddy," I said to my husband, when I received the 
 
48 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 cheque for the amount from the lawyer who had 
 managed my father's affairs. 
 
 "Not at all," he said. 
 
 " But I don't want any separate money. I would 
 rather you would take care of it. I don't understand 
 money." 
 
 " The best thing that we can do," said my husband, 
 " is to put it in a bank by itself, and to keep it for 
 emergencies. For instance, at the end of a couple of 
 years we shall have to turn out of this place and 
 furnish for ourselves, and as my little all is well and 
 safely invested in England, it would be a pity to sell 
 out for furnishing purposes. Besides, it is always as 
 well to have a shot in the locker for absolute emer- 
 gency use. One cannot tell in this beastly climate 
 what a single day may bring forth. By far the best 
 thing to do would be to put it into a bank in your 
 own name." 
 
 Eventually we agreed to do that. And so our life 
 went on, and I never gave my little patrimony so 
 much as another thought. 
 
 We were really very gay at this time. The 23rd 
 was a go-ahead regiment, and one and all seemed 
 determined to enjoy every scrap of gaiety that could 
 be squeezed out of a life in Muttrahabad. Not even 
 my mourning kept me in seclusion for more than a 
 few weeks. I was a bride, and as a bride I must be 
 feted and petted. I was very young, and in spite of 
 my great grief I did not find it practicable to isolate 
 myself from the life that was going on around me. 
 At first, when I began to go about I felt that I was 
 wicked and unfeeling. Then I reminded myself that 
 after all it was hard to visit my sorrow upon my 
 husband, and I felt that if my father could look down 
 and see me from where he was, he would understand 
 
A JARRED NOTE IN A HARMONY 49 
 
 I was not going about because I had in any sense 
 forgotten him, or ceased to regret him, but wholly 
 and solely out of a desire to do my duty to the 
 utmost to the husband who had been so good and 
 considerate and tender with me. 
 
 And with every day that went over my head I 
 seemed to love my Eddy better, and he, on his side, 
 grew more and more devoted to me. How different 
 it would all have been if I had been left unprotected, 
 without any relations whom I had known as relations, 
 with only my modest little patrimony and a wretched 
 little pension to live upon, a waif and a stray, who 
 would live in other people's houses with only two 
 courses open to her, either to marry for a home, or 
 to develop into that wretched travesty of woman- 
 hood, an Anglo-Indian " spin." I used sometimes to 
 look at my husband with a kind of wonder. I have 
 often caught myself asking was I really Mrs Edward 
 Hamlyn ? Was I really this gallant young soldier's 
 wife ? Or was it all a dream, and should I wake up 
 some day to find myself in bed at Muggrapore, or up in 
 the bungalow which I had shared with Mrs Hamilton 
 at Simla ? In a certain sense, there was a grain of 
 unreality in my life, as if it was something to which 
 I was not and never could get quite accustomed. 
 But I was very happy. I had only one cause for 
 dissatisfaction. There was only one crumpled leaf 
 in our bed of roses; only one jarring note in the 
 harmony of our true affection. It was that while 
 most of Eddy's people wrote to him sending good 
 wishes and presents, his mother, who had been 
 everything in the world to him, stood aloof. Of 
 course, our marriage had been very hurriedly pushed 
 on, and perhaps to her, with her English notions — 
 for, as he explained to me, English people, as a rule, 
 
 D 
 
50 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 have longer engagements than ours was — there may 
 have seemed something almost indecent in the haste 
 with which our marriage had been arranged. Once 
 or twice I asked whether he had heard from his 
 mother, and he replied no; but after our wedding 
 and my father's death, he one day received a letter 
 which he put into his pocket without showing me. 
 It did not occur to me at the time to ask to see 
 it ; it would have seemed to me then like an in- 
 quisitive piece of impertinence, even though I was 
 his wife. But a mail or two later, when the kindest 
 and heartiest of letters arrived from Lord Clovelly 
 and from Eddy's cousin, Mr Hamlyn — one enclosing 
 a cheque for one hundred pounds, with a wish that 
 Eddy should buy me anything that I liked with it, the 
 other full of the kindest and most affectionate good 
 wishes, and sending me a beautiful bracelet — it then 
 struck me that there had come not one single word 
 from his mother, whom one would have expected to 
 be the very first to wish a son joy and happiness in 
 his new life. 
 
 " How is it that your mother has not written, 
 Eddy ? " I asked him. 
 
 He looked a little uneasy. 
 
 " Well, my dearest, look here, it's no use our begin- 
 ning by having secrets from each other," he said 
 confusedly ; " you have none from me, and why should 
 I keep one from you." 
 
 " Why, Eddy, what do you mean ? " 
 
 " Well, dearest, the fact is I have heard from my 
 mother ; I heard two mails ago." 
 
 " You had a letter from your mother ? " 
 
 " Well, of course, I wrote to her as soon as I knew 
 that we were going to be married, and told her all 
 about you, and explained how it was that the affair 
 
A JARRED NOTE IN A HARMONY 51 
 
 was coming off so soon. She did not take it as well 
 as she might have done." 
 " How didn't take it ? " 
 
 " Well, she would have liked me to marry somebody 
 in England." 
 
 " But then you did not want to marry anyone in 
 England ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " No, I wanted to marry you. I never wanted to 
 marry anybody but you in all my life, but, of course, 
 one's mother thinks that — well, at least, mine does — 
 that she has a right to be consulted and considered, 
 and she doesn't seem to be at all pleased about our 
 marriage." 
 
 " You had better show me her letter," I said 
 quietly. 
 
 " It is not a pleasant letter, Doremy." 
 " That does not matter. I would rather see it. I 
 shall know then what she has in her mind, and 
 whether I can do anything to make her like me 
 better. It seems rather unjust, though, to dislike a 
 person whom you have never seen. Let me see the 
 letter." 
 
 He did not, however, show it to me at once. I 
 had indeed to use all my powers of persuasion to 
 make him hand it over, but at last he opened his 
 despatch-box and gave it to me, slowly and with 
 visible reluctance. 
 
 He had been quite right in saying that it was not 
 a pleasant letter. It was the most unjust, and at the 
 same time the most ignorant, letter that I had ever 
 seen. I do not mean ignorant in the way of spelling 
 and such like, but so ignorant of the life which I had 
 lived up to the time of my marriage. It was 
 evidently written by a woman who had an idea that 
 nobody who had been born in India could possibly 
 
52 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 be a lady, and gave me very much the impression 
 that nobody who had been living long in India could 
 even be good. It spoke of her well-known desire 
 that he should have married earlier in life, though, 
 after all, he was but six-and-twenty, so that he could 
 not be said to have lost very much time or delayed 
 his marriage very late, but it expressed the utmost 
 disgust that he should have been caught — yes, she put 
 it in that way — caught, that was the very word she 
 used — by " an Anglo-Indian adventuress ! " I felt as 
 I read the opprobrious words, as if all the blood in my 
 body were rising to my face, and such anger in my 
 soul that I think if I had not been already married, 
 I could have found it in my heart to break my 
 engagement. 
 
 " The idea of your being married in this hole-and- 
 corner fashion, in such desperate and indecent hurry," 
 the letter went on, " only shows me that these people 
 in their eagerness to secure you are afraid to delay 
 lest you should find out the truth about them. I have 
 never been," it continued, " so disgusted in my life." 
 
 When I had read the last cruel words I laid the 
 letter down upon the table in chill and deadly silence. 
 Eddy looked at me doubtfully. " Doremy," he said, 
 "I was not willing to show you that letter, and I 
 know that it has hurt you far more than it ought 
 to have done. You must try to think of it as the 
 letter of a prejudiced woman, who is totally ignorant 
 of the real meaning of her words. My mother has 
 never lived out of England in her life. She has 
 heard all sorts of tales about people out here, and 
 she judges us and you, whom she has "never seen, 
 by that foolish and unreliable standard — hearsay." 
 
 " Answer me one question," I said. " What did you 
 say to her in reply ? " 
 
A JARRED NOTE IN A HARMONY 53 
 
 " My dear child," he said promptly, " I never re- 
 plied to it at all. I felt that it was useless to argue ; 
 I had no intention of allowing her or any other 
 human being in the world to come in between us. 
 I had already written to her announcing our marriage 
 as an accomplished fact when I received it. Unless 
 my mother chooses to write to me in a proper manner, 
 I shall not communicate with her again. It is no 
 use arguing with a woman on the other side of the 
 world. When I am able to take you home, and she 
 sees you for herself, then she will see how utterly 
 mistaken she has been, how misguided, how altogether 
 wrong. Till that time you are my wife, and you 
 come before everybody in the world to me, even my 
 own mother." 
 
 "I shall never meet your mother," I said passion- 
 ately. " My own was so sweet, so gentle, so true, 
 so good, that I judged all mothers by her. Eddy, 
 I was ready to open my whole heart to this mother 
 of yours, because I assumed that she would be 
 something like mine. Now, my only hope is, that 
 I may never, under any circumstances, meet her ; 
 certainly I will never willingly do so. I don't know 
 how she dare blacken a whole countryful of women 
 because she doesn't happen to be one of them. She 
 must have a bad, an evil mind — yes, I must speak, 
 I will speak — she must have a thoroughly evil mind 
 to think evil so readily of those whom she has never 
 seen. Your father must have been nice," I blurted 
 out. " You must have got all your good and lovable 
 qualities from him." 
 
 " Well, in a certain sense, perhaps I did," he ad- 
 mitted " My mother is a woman of very good birth, 
 and was a great beauty in her day. In a certain 
 sense she is a hard woman, and given to jumping at 
 
54 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 conclusions. I can only say to you that I utterly 
 regret that she should have taken our marriage in the 
 way that she has done. It is not reasonable and it 
 is not kindly, but, after all, dearest, I am not my 
 mother, and so long as we are everything to each 
 other, does anything outside, even one's mother, count 
 for very much ? The very fact that she has so openly 
 avowed herself your enemy, will only make me cling 
 to you the more, and love you the better. And, after 
 all, my Doremy, we are married ; nothing can undo 
 that." 
 
 "And you are quite sure," I persisted, "that 
 in time to come you won't feel that your mother 
 has been right — that I am a mere adventuress who 
 — caught you ? " 
 
 " Nay, nay ; it was I who caught you, not you me. 
 God knows," he went on earnestly, "I was eager 
 enough to satisfy any woman." 
 
 "But to think that your mother should — should 
 have such an idea — should credit me with such an 
 idea ! " I continued indignantly. 
 
 " Well, what does it matter ? You know, and I 
 know, and everybody who was near us at the time 
 knew, that I was desperately in love with you. What 
 does it matter what somebody thousands and thou- 
 sands of miles away chooses to think in such a case ? 
 You see my other relations do not take this tone. 
 Nothing could be more kind or more generous than 
 my uncle's letter, for instance. And old Bill, how 
 nice of the dear old chap to go himself and choose 
 a wedding present for you ; how nice of my Uncle 
 Clovelly to send a big cheque that you might have 
 something which would really please you. You see, 
 they are reasonable people, and they take a reasonable 
 and worldly view of the whole affair. It is no use 
 
A JARRED NOTE IN A HARMONY 55 
 
 upsetting yourself about what my mother chooses 
 to think. She will come round in time." 
 " She need never come round for me ! " 
 " Well, then, if it is a case of choosing between you, 
 you may always rest assured that you will be the 
 one of my choice. And, besides that," he went on, 
 with infinite tenderness, " I would have you put all 
 this worry and annoyance right out of your mind 
 for the sake of the one whom some day, I hope, 
 you will sympathise with more easily than my 
 mother seems able to sympathise with me." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE INFLUENCE OF ONE PERSON 
 
 Undoubtedly my mother-in-law was a woman of 
 very strong character and of dominant will, for 
 although she did not write to my husband, nor did 
 he further communicate with her, she yet contrived 
 to exercise a very great influence over our lives. I 
 saw all the letters which Eddy wrote to his own 
 people on the subject of our marriage. In answering 
 Lord Clovelly's congratulations and in thanking him 
 for his extremely handsome present to us, or rather 
 to me, for he had expressed a wish that Eddy should 
 buy me a present with the hundred pounds which 
 he had sent, my husband had taken the opportunity 
 not exactly of singing my praises, but of putting a 
 word in season which would tend to prepossess his 
 uncle in my favour. I must confess that I blushed a 
 little as I read his words. He spoke of my extreme 
 youth, of my simplicity of mind, manners and habits, 
 and wound up by a description of my father's utter 
 sacrifice of self on the altar of duty. It was a letter 
 of which any woman in the world must have been 
 proud, and I felt after it had gone that Lord Clovelly 
 at least would be proof against any insinuations as 
 to my being an adventuress. Perhaps it was foolish 
 of me, but that horrid word simply stuck in my 
 throat. I could not forget it, it seemed to meet me 
 at every turn. " But surely," I thought, when I had 
 
 56 
 
THE INFLUENCE OF ONE PERSON 57 
 
 read Eddy's letter to the end, " his uncle will under- 
 stand that no woman who is really an adventuress 
 could inspire a man to write such a letter concern- 
 ing her." 
 
 After many weeks had gone by, however, he heard 
 again from Lord Clovelly, not a letter purposely 
 concerning me, but one on general topics such as he 
 was in the habit of occasionally writing to him. At 
 the end it said, " I am very sorry to find that your 
 mother is so bitterly opposed to your marriage and 
 that she is making such a trouble of it. I hope that 
 you will not allow yourself to quarrel with her, even 
 for your wife. A good woman would not, of course, 
 wish you to be out-at-elbows with your own mother. 
 Perhaps it is a pity that you were married in such a 
 hurry, but, as I told your mother, the deed is done, 
 and we can only hope that it may turn out for the 
 best. I repeated to her all that you had told me of 
 your wife, but I am greatly afraid that with her it is 
 a case of 'Can any good thing come out of Naza- 
 reth ? ' I would advise you to write her as much as 
 possible as if no cloud had arisen between you. 
 After all, you are everything that she has in the 
 world. Hers is not a happy nature, and, if you can 
 spare her a pang, I sincerely hope that you will see 
 your way to do it. For my own part, my dear boy, 
 I like young people who marry to be happy and to 
 be in love with each other ; it seems to me a greater 
 consideration than any other that one can name or 
 think of. I shall therefore try to picture your wife 
 only through your eyes until I have the pleasure of 
 seeing her, when I sincerely hope that I shall feel 
 that you have not half done her justice." 
 
 " Eddy," I said, when I had read the letter to the 
 end, " your uncle is very kind, and he is very just ; 
 
58 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 but although he does not mean to be, he is already- 
 influenced against me. What can I have done to 
 your mother that she, who loves you, should hate me 
 for doing the same thing? I feel as if I should 
 never see any of your people ; I feel as if I could 
 never face any one of them. It is dreadful for a lady 
 to realise that she is regarded by a whole family as 
 an interloper and a mere outsider." 
 
 * Well, dearest, in a family sense you are an out- 
 sider to everybody but me ; that is natural enough," 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, yes, but I do not mean in a family sense. I 
 have never before been made to feel that I was an 
 outsider socially. You know," I went on, " if I had 
 known all this I would never have married you." 
 
 " Oh, don't say that ! " he cried. 
 
 "Ah, but it is true." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that you would have let 
 my people influence you so much as to ruin my life 
 and break my heart ? " he exclaimed, catching hold of 
 me and drawing me near to him. 
 
 " Yes, I am afraid that I should." 
 
 " Then all I have to say is, thank God that we were 
 married before my people had a chance of getting at 
 you ! " 
 
 I felt a great wave of remorse sweep over me, a 
 great tide of compunction which seemed to tell me 
 that he loved me better than I him. And yet, was 
 that so ? Oh, no, surely not. If ever a woman was 
 bound up heart and soul in her husband, surely I 
 was that woman. I felt myself blush under his 
 direct gaze. " No, I do not quite mean that," I 
 said hurriedly. " But honestly, I do not think, 
 Eddy, that you half realise how eaten alive I am 
 with pride. I daresay I should have been angry 
 
THE INFLUENCE OF ONE PERSON 59 
 
 enough and foolish enough for anything if I had 
 known all this before we were married ; but at the 
 same time I could not give you up now, and I cannot 
 help being glad that we were married before I did 
 know anything about it." 
 
 " My dear," he said, " you make too much of my 
 people's opinion. After all, it is only the opinion 
 of one person — a person whose judgment is biased, 
 and, moreover, based upon actual ignorance of facts. 
 You see my uncle says himself that he shall keep an 
 open mind about you, he shall only picture you 
 through my eyes, through my description." 
 
 " I hope," I cried, " that I shall never see any of 
 your people." 
 
 " My dear child," he said very gently, " if my 
 dear chum Bill comes out, he will he the greatest 
 friend that you have in the world. He is the 
 dearest chap alive ; you will like him as much as 
 I do, and he will like you — well, next best to me, 
 perhaps. I wish," he said, with a gay laugh, " that 
 I was as sure of ever being Commander-in-Chief as 
 I am that you and old Bill will be the very best of 
 friends." 
 
 I said no more. I let him think so; but in my 
 heart I felt convinced that Lord Clovelly's son and 
 I would never be anything but the merest acquaint- 
 ances, family connections, people at arm's length 
 from each other first and last. And yet, when, a 
 few months later, he came out to join the regiment, 
 (for he had persistently declined the idea of remain- 
 ing with the depot), and Eddy brought him into my 
 pretty, cool, shaded drawing-room, saying, " Doremy, 
 this is my cousin, Edward Hamlyn, the 'Bill' you 
 have heard me speak of so often," I felt all my 
 prejudices and all my long pent-up anger and distress 
 
60 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 melting away, for he was the counterpart of my 
 Edward Hamlyn, my husband. It became plain to 
 me that Eddy had inherited none of his mother's 
 beauty looks. He had come into the world stamped 
 with the personality of the old Devon family of 
 which he had been born. Bill Hamlyn, as he was 
 always called in the regiment, was five years younger 
 than Eddy, but he did not look it. In all my life 
 I have never seen brothers more ridiculously alike 
 than these two were in outward appearance. He 
 had the same charming voice, the same quick, alert 
 glance, the same intense blueness of the eyes, and 
 the same delightful, un affected manners. He gave 
 one glance at me, and held out both his hands. " You 
 and I," he said, " have got to be tremendous chums, 
 because, you know, they say that women-folk do not 
 like their husbands to have any chums but them- 
 selves. Now, I have always been Eddy's chum ever 
 since I can remember anything, and I cannot give 
 him up, even to a wife — that is to say, not altogether. 
 So, Mrs Eddy, you must just make up your mind to 
 have me for a chum as well, and then you know we 
 shall hit it off quite splendidly." 
 
 He was so fresh, so breezy, so hearty, that he 
 fairly conquered me. He was delightfully imperti- 
 nent too. Before an hour had gone by he had 
 taken to calling me Mrs Doremy. " Where did you 
 get such a wonderful name ? " he exclaimed. " I 
 never heard of it before. It sounds like a poem or 
 a touch of music. Who first thought of it ? " 
 
 " I did," said Eddy, promptly. 
 
 " You ? Why, my dear old chap, we shall have 
 you blooming out as poet-laureate before long. I 
 never heard such a charming name in my life, even 
 for a charming lady," with a little bow towards me. 
 
THE INFLUENCE OF ONE PERSON 61 
 
 I could not help liking him. Everything fell out 
 as he predicted, and we became the greatest of friends ; 
 indeed, it was from him that I first gathered any 
 really reliable information about that unpleasant lady 
 who stood in the background of my life like a bogey 
 ready to spring out upon me at any moment — my 
 mother-in-law. 
 
 " Why does she hate me so ? " I said to him one 
 day, a week or two after his arrival. 
 
 " Aunt Cordelia ? Oh, well, Aunt Cordelia is not 
 exactly the kind of woman who tends to make things 
 more pleasant under any circumstances," he admitted 
 hesitatingly. " You see, when she married my uncle 
 she was a great beauty, not so young as she had been, 
 and she seemed to have satisfied herself that my 
 governor never meant to marry anybody, and you 
 see he did. My uncle was one of those happy-go- 
 lucky, devil-may-care sort of men, very much like 
 what Eddy is, and he was always quite devoted to 
 the governor, and I don't know, but I think she was 
 a bit disappointed." 
 
 " But he had a right to marry ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Well, that is what the poor old governor him- 
 self thought, so he went and got married ; but I 
 believe Mrs Richard was not at all pleased about it. 
 Really, I would not worry about her opinion if I 
 were you." 
 
 " But she has set your father and all your people 
 against me." 
 
 " No, not so bad as that ; not quite so bad as that. 
 She has not set me against you for one." 
 
 " But she has influenced your father against me." 
 
 " No, not my father." 
 
 " But your sisters ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, my sisters are — well, they are not much 
 
62 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 use to anybody. They are very nice and all that, but 
 I don't think you would care about them very much. 
 They are so taken up with fashion and society and 
 all that sort of thing, that they have not got much 
 time left for thinking about other people's affairs." 
 
 " Not one of them has written to Eddy since they 
 first wrote." 
 
 " No. Well, the truth is, Mrs Doremy, they 
 wouldn't. I don't think they write to each other 
 much ; I don't think they go in much for what you 
 may call family affection. Eddy and I keep up that 
 sort of thing ; I don't think the girls ever do. As for 
 my dear old governor, you must not think that he is 
 your enemy." 
 
 " No, but he is prejudiced against me." 
 "No, scarcely that. He is biding his time until 
 he sees you. I had a talk with him only the 
 night before I left home on the very subject, and 
 he said then, what was perfectly justifiable, that 
 there was a great deal in what Eddy had to say, 
 and a good deal in what Aunt Cordelia had to say, 
 and that he should judge for himself when he saw 
 you." 
 
 "Yes," I exclaimed, "judge for himself with a mind 
 already prejudiced in the other direction ! He can't 
 help it," I cried, as he was about to expostulate, 
 " Eddy's mother called me an adventuress ; she said 
 that I had caught him." 
 
 A quizzical look came over Mr Hamlyn's face. 
 " What are you laughing at ? " I asked. 
 
 " I was thinking," he said, with the ingenuousness 
 of youth, " that perhaps Aunt Cordelia judged you out 
 of her own bushel. I would not upset myself if I 
 were you ; Mrs Doremy, it is not good enough. And, 
 after all, dear old Eddy is the best fellow in the 
 
THE INFLUENCE OF ONE PERSON 63 
 
 world ; you are satisfied with him, and he is satisfied 
 with you. What more do you want ? " 
 
 " Well, I want just a little recognition from his 
 people," I replied ; " then I should be perfectly 
 happy." 
 
 " 1 am afraid," he said, " that, as long as you 
 are in India, you will not have that recognition, 
 however much you may desire it. When once you 
 go home, and they see you for what you are, you 
 will have as much recognition, both from Eddy's 
 people and from Eddy's friends, as the most ex- 
 acting lady in the world could consider her right. 
 If I were you, Mrs Doremy, I would make up my 
 mind to be contented with that certainty until the 
 time comes. After all, what can it matter to you 
 what a lot of people whom you have never seen, and 
 who have never seen you, choose to think about you ? 
 Look at me, for instance. I came out here feeling — 
 shall I confess it to you ? — that it was a ghastly bore 
 that my greatest chum had gone and got married, 
 feeling that life would never be quite the same again, 
 and in a kind of way as if I owed you one for having 
 married him ; but as soon as I saw you, why, you 
 must have seen for yourself that I went down before 
 you like a row of ninepins in a well-played game of 
 skittles." 
 
 I put out my hand to him in an impulse of grati- 
 tude. " Mr Hamlyn," I said, " I did not think, some- 
 how, that I should like you, but I cannot help myself. 
 You are quite fit to be Eddy's cousin, and you cannot 
 expect me to say more than that. I felt before I saw 
 you that you would be stiff, and stuck-up, and super- 
 cilious, and horrid — yes, I did, I admit it freely — and 
 yet I liked you nearly as much as Eddy before you 
 had been in the room five minutes." 
 
64 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 "That is all right," he said heartily. "I told you 
 that we should be the greatest of friends. But don't 
 you think, Mrs Doremy, since you are Eddy's wife 
 and we are cousins, that you might leave off calling 
 me Mr Hamlyn ? It must sound to outsiders as if 
 our relations were not over and above cordial, and we 
 want to create just a contrary impression to that, 
 don't we ? So, Mrs Doremy, what if I were to leave 
 off your grand married title, and you were to call me 
 Bill ? " 
 
 And, from that moment, he and I were Doremy and 
 Bill one to another. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A FIAT AND A CHOICE 
 
 After Bill Hamlyn and I had made such a satis- 
 factory compact of friendship — which, by-the-bye, we 
 never broke — I ceased entirely to discuss the Hamlyn 
 family with my husband. I had no wish to bore him 
 on the subject, and I could not shut my eyes to the 
 fact that whatever they chose to do and whatever 
 line of conduct they chose to make their own, he was 
 not in any way responsible for it, and could not, while 
 living at so great a distance from them, make them 
 see matters with his eyes. Besides, it distressed him, 
 and any expression of my annoyance at the line which 
 they had taken generally had the effect of giving him 
 a racking headache. So I very soon, after Bill Ham- 
 lyn came to India, ceased to mention the family in 
 any way. 
 
 Not very long after the arrival of Lord Clovelly's 
 last letter, Eddy wrote to his mother. He wrote 
 exactly as if he had received no unpleasant letter 
 from her and in due course of time she answered him, 
 and a more or less frigid correspondence was the re- 
 sult. He always wrote to her as if she was on the 
 best of terms with him ; she always wrote to him as 
 if he were still unmarried ; indeed, she never, after 
 that first letter, which was written immediately on 
 the receipt of the news of our engagement, mentioned 
 me in any way, good, bad or indifferent. It was not 
 
 E 
 
66 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 an easy situation for me to bear, but I could not help 
 feeling that it was in reality more hard for Eddy than 
 for me. He made a rule of bringing me his mother's 
 letters to read and also of bringing me his to her, that I 
 might read them before they were mailed. At first I 
 demurred, not wishing to seem to be spying upon one 
 whom I trusted so utterly and loved so intensely, but 
 Eddy quickly disposed of my objections. "I should 
 not dream of receiving or writing letters of which you 
 knew nothing," he said quietly, " and I must ask you 
 to read these as well as others. If there is anything 
 at any time that you object to, dearest, you have only 
 to tell me." 
 
 " It is not likely, Eddy, that I should object to any- 
 thing ! " I exclaimed indignantly. 
 
 " My dear child," he replied, " two heads are better 
 than one, and I might chance, quite inadvertently, to 
 say something which would be painful or annoying to 
 you. You know that I have no desire in the world 
 but to make you happy, and if by accident I chance 
 to say the wrong thing, it will be better for both of 
 us that you tell me of it before it is too late to amend 
 it than afterwards." 
 
 I could not help seeing the reasonableness of his 
 remark, so I made no further objection to reading the 
 correspondence which passed between himself and his 
 mother. 
 
 It was not so very long before our little child was 
 born, though it proved to be not the much-hoped-for 
 boy upon which Eddy had set his heart. I don't 
 know why men do seem to set their hearts upon 
 having boys when they start a family, because girls 
 generally seem to be more to their fathers than boys 
 are — to be nearer, closer, more one with them. I 
 don't think that Eddy was very much disappointed, 
 
A FIAT AND A CHOICE 67 
 
 but he had always spoken of the child that was to be 
 as " the little son," " the boy," " he," and we had quite 
 decided between ourselves that it was to be called 
 Richard Massingham Hamlyn, after his father and 
 mine. 
 
 However, when the baby came, instead of the big 
 beautiful boy, with the Hamlyn blue eyes and the 
 Hamlyn crisp curling hair, the new arrival turned out 
 to be a frail, golden-haired, grey-eyed girl, taking en- 
 tirely after me. Not that I had golden hair, but tra- 
 dition had always declared that I had been blessed in 
 that way as a baby. We had so little expected a girl 
 that we had actually no name ready for it, and I 
 was so ill that some weeks went by before the little 
 stranger had any sort of a name to call her own. In 
 due course of time we christened her Frances Margaret. 
 Margaret was my mother's name, and Frances was 
 merely a fancy of my own. Eddy's cousin stood as 
 her godfather, and Mrs Hamilton and another old 
 friend of mine were her two godmothers. She was a 
 dear wee thing, as good and healthy as she was pretty 
 to look upon. I was fortunate in getting a most de- 
 voted ayah, so that to me baby was personally no 
 trouble whatever. This was indeed just as well, for 
 after her birth I was never quite the same, not as long 
 as I was in India. I seemed to be just fading away ; 
 not from any actual complaint, yet never feeling quite 
 well. I had no strength, no energy, no desire to do 
 anything. They used to dress me and take me out 
 for a morning drive, and then I would go in and look 
 at breakfast and spend the rest of the day in a state 
 more or less of collapse until the cool of the evening, 
 when they would dress me and take me out for a drive 
 asain. 
 
 Then I was taken up to the hills. Eddy had 
 
68 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 special leave of absence, and the doctors of Muttrahabad 
 hustled us off full of assurances that it would be the 
 making of me. But it was not the making of me. I 
 got a shade or so better just at first, and then I settled 
 down again into the same lethargy of ill-health, finding 
 everything an exertion, everything a trouble, not un- 
 happy, but living a life that was more or less of a blank. 
 
 " You know, my dearest," Eddy said to me one day, 
 when I was just recovering from a dead faint which 
 had lasted longer than usual, "you cannot go on 
 like this. You will die if something cannot be done." 
 
 I put out a feeble hand and took his. " I am 
 afraid, Eddy, that I am going the same way as my 
 mother went. Of course you know she died of 
 cholera, just as dear Father did, but, all the same, I 
 have her constitution exactly. She never could shake 
 off the effects of illness, and I am just the same." 
 
 " You ought to go home," he said. 
 
 " Oh, but I could not possibly go home. I have 
 nowhere to go to ; I have no interest in going home ; 
 it would be quite absurd. Besides, my constitution 
 cannot need a climate which it has never known." 
 
 " My dear child," he said, " you were born in India, 
 but you inherit an English constitution, and the fact 
 that you have never been home has nothing to do with 
 the equally indisputable fact that a good long stay in 
 England would probably set you up for good and all. 
 At all events, the best thing we can do is to see what 
 the doctors have to say about it." 
 
 So the doctors came and "sat" upon me, as they 
 phrase it out in India, and the verdict was that, at 
 at all and any cost, I was to be sent home. I raised 
 every objection that my feeble mind could devise and 
 suggest. I might as well have talked to so many 
 stone walls. They had got it firmly implanted into 
 
A FIAT AND A CHOICE 69 
 
 their stupid heads that home I was to go, and nothing 
 that I could say served in any way to shake them 
 from that opinion. 
 
 " Then, of course, my husband will be able to go 
 with me?" I exclaimed, when I found that they had 
 made up their minds about me. 
 
 The senior doctor looked at me doubtfully. " Well, 
 of course, Hamlyn has been out such a very short 
 time ; his leave is not due for ever so long yet," he 
 said. " If he felt the climate more we could sit upon 
 him and certify him sick, but I am afraid that would 
 be a little too bare-faced even for officialism. You 
 couldn't get up a little illness, could you, Hamlyn ? " 
 he asked, turning appealingly to my husband. 
 
 Eddy burst out laughing at the bare idea of such 
 a thing. " Why, my dear fellow, I have never been 
 ill in my life ! " he answered. " It would be such a 
 clear case of malingering. The very men in the ranks 
 would laugh at the bare idea of such a thing. I am 
 afraid, Doremy, I cannot manage that much, even for 
 
 you." 
 
 "Well, then, I refuse to go," I said resolutely. "1 
 have never been home, and I am very young to go 
 alone. I have no relations, nobody to go to, and I 
 really cannot face such a journey by myself. I would 
 rather stay here and die." 
 
 " You will die unless you do go home," said Dr 
 Harrison, positively. 
 
 "I would rather die here, then," I declared posi- 
 tively. " I am sure that I should die if I were sent 
 to England by myself. It has never been home to 
 me. I call it home as everybody else does, because it 
 is the jargon to which I have been used all my life, 
 but India is my real home. I should die for certain 
 long before I set foot upon English shores." 
 
70 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 The senior doctor was about to answer me when 
 my husband stopped him. " I don't think we need 
 finally settle it now, Harrison," he said, putting his 
 hand upon the other's shoulder. " The wife and I will 
 talk it over. It is as she says, that she is so young 
 to contemplate such a journey by herself. We will 
 talk it over, and see how it looks when she gets more 
 accustomed to it. It is not necessary to decide it off- 
 hand." 
 
 So, one by one, the doctors filed out of the room, 
 each bidding me adieu with an air which told me 
 plainly that they regarded me as a doomed woman. 
 When the last one was gone — that is to say, when Dr 
 Harrison had taken his leave, which he did at the 
 door with a whisper to Eddy — a whisper which I 
 heard quite plainly, or at least a part of it, Eddy 
 came back into the room where I was, with a great 
 assumption of cheerfulness in his manner. 
 
 I literally cast myself into his arms. " Oh, Eddy, 
 Eddy ! " I cried, " it is all over between us ! You and 
 I have not had a very long journey together, but we 
 have got nearly to the end of it now." 
 
 "No, no, my dearest," he returned soothingly, "you 
 mustn't take such a pessimistic view of things as all 
 this. You are ill and unnerved, but it will be all 
 right by-and-by. You are young, you have every 
 chance of pulling yourself together again if you only 
 do what we tell you." 
 
 " No," I said, " no, it is too late. Don't try to de- 
 ceive me, I heard what he said — ' No time to be lost.' 
 What does that mean ? That if I stay here I shall 
 die. If I go over there, I shall die just the same. I 
 would rather stay here with you and die here." 
 
 " I cannot let you say that, darling," he said in a 
 desperately anxious voice. 
 
A FIAT AND A CHOICE 71 
 
 I saw that he was trying not to frighten me, but his 
 face was blanched under all its bronze, and his lips 
 were trembling. " I wish to God," he said, in an ex- 
 ceedingly bitter voice, " that I had even the decent 
 shadow of an excuse for getting myself certified sick 
 that I might take you home. If you won't go with- 
 out me I must chuck the Service; but you must 
 remember if I do that, I am throwing away my 
 whole career, and my people will be more set against 
 you than ever. Not that it would matter in the least, 
 only one has to think of the future when one is not 
 well off. I do wish," he said, looking at me wistfully, 
 " that you would consent to be guided by those who 
 do know what they are talking of. You must know, 
 darling, that it is utterly hateful to me to think of 
 being parted from you even for a single day ; but for 
 your good, your welfare, your safety, I could not put 
 my own inclinations first. After all, you would have 
 the child, you would have your own ayah, you would 
 go with people you know. Think what it would be 
 to come back strong and well, as you used to be." 
 
 " Think what it would be to die over there alone," 
 I said wretchedly. " No, no, Eddy, I would rather 
 stay here ; I would rather stay here, and face the 
 certainty of death, because I should be with you to 
 the end. I have never been alone in my life ; I have 
 never known what it was to depend upon myself. You 
 cannot imagine the desolation that the very thought 
 of such a journey has for me. Oh, don't ask me to 
 do it. Don't ask me to do it." 
 
 " I can't help asking you to do it, Doremy," he 
 said anxiously. " If I had no love for you, and the 
 doctors advised that course, I should still ask you 
 just the same as I am doing now — to do that which 
 is the best for your health and safety. Besides that, 
 
72 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 dearest, there is not the slightest doubt that it would 
 be the best thing in the world for the child." 
 
 " For the child ? " 
 
 " Yes. Of course, no child is as well in India as it 
 would be in England. The chances are a hundred to 
 one against a child's life in a climate like this." 
 
 " I never knew that," I said quickly. 
 
 " No, but at the same time the doctors say it, the 
 doctors think it. Our little girl is all right now, but 
 then she is such a mite, not yet six months old. 
 But when she begins to get her teeth, when the 
 summer heat comes on, why, in England, she would 
 have twenty times, nay, a hundred times, the chance 
 of thriving that she would have in India." 
 
 " Do you really think so ? " 
 
 "The whole experience of people who have had 
 babies out here tells me that that is so, the whole ex- 
 perience of the doctors declares the same thing. Why 
 should these men lie to us ? It is not to their interests 
 to save a child's life, unless it happens to be their 
 own. From them you get an unbiased opinion." 
 
 " But baby is so well," I exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes, she is well, and I pray to God she may 
 always keep well, but she would be better if she were 
 out of this climate for a time. However, we need 
 not decide everything to-day — now — we will wait 
 awhile, we will wait a few days, and see whether you 
 pull up a little through staying here. Only don't 
 tell me that you care for me so little that you would 
 rather die here than save yourself by going home." 
 
 He said no more about it then, but during the next 
 two or three days I thought of nothing else than of 
 what the doctors had said. Should I really die if I 
 remained in India ? Would the effect of the climate 
 be such that my beautiful, flourishing baby -girl would 
 
A FIAT AND A CHOICE 73 
 
 dwindle and pine away ? I could see by the way 
 that he watched me that Eddy was desperately 
 anxious. Ought I to do what they wished, to yield 
 to older and wiser heads than my own, and turn my 
 back upon everything which hitherto had made my 
 life ? And, on the other hand, if I consented to go, 
 what would become of me ? Must I, a girl but just 
 nineteen years old, go all those thousands of miles to 
 the other side of the world, among a people whose 
 ways were not my ways, to a country I had never 
 seen — I, who had not the energy to let my servants 
 dress me, and my husband to lift me into my carriage? 
 Was I to go thousands of miles by land and sea, with 
 no one to lean on, no one to think for me, care for 
 me, protect me, and, on the other hand, only the 
 alternative of seeing the world gradually blotted out, 
 and all that I loved left standing on the shore from 
 which I was fast receding ? What a choice ! To 
 stay with my love and die, or to go out alone into 
 the unknown, on what was at best only a chance 
 of living ! 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF OUR JOUKNEY 
 
 It cannot be said that I gained at all in strength 
 during the next two weeks. If anything, at the 
 end of that time I was weaker, and by some strange 
 fatality our little girl began to loose her healthy 
 looks and to get cross, irritable and peevish. Her 
 ayah had the patience of an angel, but all the 
 patience in the world could not alter the fact that 
 she was beginning to have trouble with her teeth, 
 and that she was what is technically called " getting 
 them hard." 
 
 Dr Harrison, whom we called in to attend to her, 
 took me to task in the roundest terms. " Mrs 
 Hamlyn," he said, "it is no use my coming here 
 and pretending to you that a little prescription will 
 set that baby all right. The child is suffering from 
 the climate ; she will not be well as long as she is 
 out here. Take her home, and in all probability 
 she will grow into a strong, healthy, flourishing child, 
 with as good a chance of living as any other." 
 
 "But why should she suddenly fail as she has 
 done ? " I exclaimed. 
 
 "I don't know why — at least, I do know. Be- 
 cause it is what the majority of children do in this 
 climate. That child ought to be taken home; you 
 ought to go home. You must forgive me for speak- 
 ing to you quite plainly, but I think you are ex- 
 ceedingly obstinate and exceedingly inconsiderate 
 
 74 
 
THE BEGINNING OF OUR JOURNEY 75 
 
 towards your husband, who is almost beside himself 
 with anxiety and distress. One would think," he 
 said vexedly, "that England was a land full of 
 bogies and hobgoblins. My dear lady, you will find 
 nothing there to hurt you or make you unhappy, 
 except in the fact that you will be parted from 
 your husband for a little time. If you could put 
 in a twelvemonth in Europe, Hamlyn would be able 
 to get a decent spell of leave; but it is perfectly 
 useless for you to think of holding out as long as 
 that before you or the child go. If you do not 
 go this season I don't think either of you will have 
 the chance of going." 
 
 I have thought since that he took advantage of 
 my natural anxiety about the baby to press the 
 necessity of my own case more forcibly upon me. 
 Little Frances certainly was ailing, of that there 
 was no doubt ; and equally there was no doubt that 
 if I remained in India I should very soon have a 
 change which would have been a final one ; but I do 
 not now think that the child, brought up with care 
 and kept in the hills, would have been any the worse 
 for not going home to England. As it was then, I 
 was more divided against myself than ever. I could 
 make up my mind to die, that was simple enough, 
 but I could not make up my mind to let the child slip 
 through my fingers. And yet it was so hard to utter 
 the words which would part me, even for a time, from 
 my husband. 
 
 At last, however, Eddy suddenly solved the diffi- 
 culty. " Doremy," he said suddenly, one day when I 
 was sitting under the punkah watching the child 
 lying feebly in her ayah's arms, " I have an idea." 
 " Yes. And that is— what ? " 
 " Well, it is a project which will cost money, a good 
 
76 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 deal of money, but it will break the long journey to 
 you, and make you more satisfied to go home than 
 anything else that I can think of. I cannot get leave 
 to go home and stop with you, that is utterly out of 
 the question ; but I could get three months' leave to 
 take you home, settle you there — that is, in some nice, 
 suitable place — in a house of your own, and leave you. 
 That would be a different thing to going home by 
 yourself, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " I exclaimed eagerly. " That would be 
 quite different ! I think I could bear that." 
 
 " Then," he said, " I will take the necessary steps at 
 once, put the case to the powers that be, and throw 
 myself on their mercy." 
 
 I had not very much opinion of the mercy of the 
 powers that happened to be at that time. I had 
 always believed the authorities to be without bowels 
 of compassion; but Eddy, full of faith, sent in his 
 application, and gave his reasons at leDgth for pre- 
 ferring a request for prolonged leave, and not a little 
 to my surprise, and greatly to his jubilation and the 
 satisfaction of the doctors, he was granted a period 
 of four months for the express purpose of taking me 
 home to England. 
 
 " There ! You see ! " he said triumphantly, when 
 he brought me the letter announcing the privilege 
 which had been vouchsafed to him. "There is no- 
 thing like asking for what you want, and telling the 
 exact truth about it ! I said how young you were, 
 how inexperienced, how utterly friendless, and what 
 a desperate case of necessity it was. So we will pack 
 up our things, and we will have a couple of months 
 at home in fine style. The only thing is, my dearest, 
 that the main cost will have to come out of your 
 emergency money." 
 
THE BEGINNING OF OUR JOURNEY 77 
 
 "That does not matter!" I exclaimed. "We put 
 it aside for emergencies, and surely no emergency 
 could be more necessitous or imperative than to save 
 either my life or dear baby's 1 " 
 
 And then I caught the child from her ayah, and 
 hugged her close to my breast, until she set up a 
 feeble and wailing cry of very decided remonstrance. 
 
 It was wonderful how soon we managed to get our 
 belongings put together and the arrangements made 
 for our long journey. Personally, I did nothing 
 towards helping matters on, for with every hour I 
 seemed to get weaker, just as Frances seemed to 
 become more blanched and feeble with every moment 
 that passed over our heads. Still, I had given my 
 consent, that was the great thing, and Eddy worked 
 with a will, for he was determined that we should not 
 remain one day longer than was absolutely necessary. 
 
 At first I had been anxious to go back to the 
 bungalow at Muttrahabad, in order to gather together 
 a few things from which I did not wish to be parted, 
 even for a few months, but Eddy absolutely vetoed any 
 such idea. " It is not at all necessary, dearest," he said 
 promptly. "I will write immediately, and give in- 
 structions to have anything you want packed and 
 sent down to Bombay to you. Your ordinary things 
 you won't care for ; but do you tell me exactly what 
 you want, and let me make a list at once, that I need 
 not lose a single post." 
 
 After all, there were not many things that I really 
 was very much set upon having to take with me. 
 My jewellery and personal treasures I had in my 
 possession then, and all that I really wanted from 
 Muttrahabad were some miniatures and various odds 
 and ends that had belonged to my father and mother. 
 These, together with tho rest of my wardrobe, Eddy 
 
78 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 ordered to be sent down to meet us at Bombay, and 
 in three days after this we began our journey clown 
 country together. 
 
 Of course, baby's ayah went with us, and also my 
 own ayah, and Eddy's bearer went as far as Bombay. 
 At that point he thought it would be better to send 
 my own ayah back to her district, and to engage for 
 me some English maid who might wish to be going 
 back to Europe. 
 
 The journey down prostrated me most frightfully. 
 I tried to complain as little as I could, but I fear 
 that I succeeded very badly, Looking back, that 
 journey lives in my brains more like a hideous night- 
 mare than a reality through which I actually passed. 
 I have a dim recollection of scorching heat, frightful 
 thirst, misery and inconvenience of all kinds, of a 
 little child who grew more lifeless with each hour, and 
 of a patient, forbearing husband with all his anxious 
 soul in his eyes. Still, we did arrive at Bombay in 
 due time, and there I somewhat revived in the com- 
 parative luxury and comfort of the hotel, where we 
 stayed during the two days which elapsed between 
 our arrival and the departure of the P. and O. boat 
 by which we were to go to England. 
 
 There was plenty for Eddy to do during that two 
 days, for he had many arrangements to make for our 
 journey which he had been compelled to leave to 
 the last moment. For instance, he had to engage me 
 an English maid, which was not a matter of such 
 extreme ease after all. However, he did at last find 
 one who seemed suitable and at the same time cap- 
 able. As a matter of fact, she was not a lady's maid, 
 but was a professional nurse who had been out to 
 attend upon a young English lady of rank at the 
 birth of her first child. 
 
THE BEGINNING OF OUR JOURNEY 79 
 
 Eddy was very jubilant at having secured her. 
 " My dear," he said, " I feel quite easy in my mind 
 about you now. This is the grandest chance ! We 
 might have come this iournev a dozen times and not 
 happened to meet with a trained nurse who would be 
 able to look after you right until you get to England, 
 and indeed for as long after as you choose to keep 
 her. She will make all the difference to you, and it 
 will be far better for you than having a native ayah, 
 who would probably be sea-sick, and certainly help- 
 less and frightened half the time." 
 
 I was not by any means so jubilant myself. You 
 see, I had never been waited upon by a white person 
 in my life, and there seemed to me to be something 
 almost improper in expecting a dignified English- 
 woman, who was wearing a very smart distinctive 
 garb, to wait upon me in an everyday sort of way ; 
 in fact, she took me altogether under her protecting 
 wing, and really patronised me to such an extent that 
 I was afraid to call my soul my own. 
 
 "You know," she said, "I am not a lady's maid, 
 neither am I an Indian ayah, so that I hope you 
 won't expect me to know precisely your ways and 
 what you wish doing. In three or four days I shall 
 have shaken down into my place, and I hope you 
 won't feel the loss of your own people at all. I am 
 accustomed to fitting myself into any nook into which 
 I chance to stray, and I hope that when there is any 
 little thing you want that you will tell me of it. So 
 many ladies in delicate health go on suffering because 
 they are unwilling to speak, anxious not to give 
 trouble and all that sort of thing; but pray, Mrs 
 Hamlyn, do try to remember that I am only anxious 
 to land you in England looking very different to what 
 you are looking just now." 
 
80 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 I assured her that I would really try to give her as 
 much trouble as I possibly could, and I must say 
 Nurse Mordaunt was extremely kind to me. She 
 took me thoroughly in hand, as if I was a helpless 
 baby — Iwas really but little better — and washed me 
 and dressed me as good-humouredly and deftly as if I 
 had been a little child. 
 
 " How is that baby goiug to be fed on the journey ? " 
 she inquired. 
 
 " Oh, Captain Hamlyn will buy goats to take with 
 us." 
 
 " Oh ! And she will be able to have her fresh milk 
 twice a day at least ? " 
 
 " Yes. There is no other way of managing it that 
 I know of," I replied. 
 
 " How many goats will he take ? " 
 
 " I should say four. Because, you see, I am taking 
 a good deal of milk — the doctors ordered it for me — 
 and, of course, we cannot have baby stinted in any 
 way." 
 
 " No, no. That relieves my mind of a good deal of 
 anxiety. I don't believe in artificial foods for chil- 
 dren. I am quite sure that they are a mistake," she 
 went on, speaking in keen professional tones. " Half 
 the infant deaths that occur are solely due to that 
 cause, I am convinced of it; and then, too, most of 
 them are made so that fresh milk is a positive neces- 
 sity in using them, in addition to the stuff that you 
 buy in the tins." 
 
 " Ah, you see, I am quite ignorant of all that," I 
 said a little blankly. " I did not even know that you 
 could buy stuff in tins to feed babies on." 
 
 " More is the pity that one can," rejoined Nurse 
 Mordaunt. "'Murder in tins' is what I generally 
 call it ! " 
 
THE BEGINNING OF OUR JOURNEY 81 
 
 At last, the evening before the sailing of the Poonah, 
 Eddy came in with the cheerful announcement that 
 everything was absolutely ready for our journey. " I 
 don't think, dearest," he said, " that things could pos- 
 sibly have fallen out and arranged themselves better. 
 As far as I can see there will not be a hitch for the 
 entire journey. I have got superb goats — splendid crea- 
 tures — and, luckily enough, the very best saloon cabin 
 in the whole ship. You will travel as comfortably 
 as a princess ! We shall have a perfectly gorgeous 
 voyage ! And I expect by the time of our arrival, 
 that you will be so pulled together that you will make 
 ine spend the whole of my leave tearing round London 
 seeing sights and gay life. Tell me, dearest, don't 
 you feel better already for having made the effort, and 
 for knowing that you are really going home at last ? " 
 
 I was very weak, very much in love, and very 
 young, and I told him that I did feel marvellously 
 better ; whereas, in truth, I was possessed by an 
 awful foreboding of coming ill, by a feeling that I was 
 going to a strange country from whence I should 
 never return. I felt, somehow or other, as if I had 
 got to an epoch in my life — one of those halting 
 places on our mortal journey which we did not mark 
 with a white stone — rather with a black cross ! 
 
 It is no exaggeration to say that I never closed my 
 eyes that night, the last that I passed upon Indian 
 soil. Eddy, on the contrary, slept like a top, and 
 woke betimes in the gayest and most brilliant spirits. 
 " I feel," he cried, " like a schoolboy going home for 
 the holidays ! Nay, I do not believe that ever, even 
 in my school-days, I felt so happy and so jubilant on 
 the first day of my holidays as I feel this morning. 
 If I were not ashamed to do it, I would go out and 
 stand in the middle of that square and chuck my hat 
 
 F 
 
82 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 into the air from sheer gaiety of heart. As for you, 
 you little Anglo-Indian, you take everything so coolly 
 that you arc quite aggravating. I don't believe you 
 are a bit glad that you are going home at last — even 
 with me." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am," I answered rather lamely. " Oh, 
 yes, Eddy, indeed I am ! " 
 
 "No. I believe that when you find yourself just 
 on the point of starting again for India, you will 
 feel exactly as I do to-day." 
 
 " I don't know. If you are there I certainly shall 
 feel so," I answered. "I am not so much happier 
 because I am going home, Eddy, because home is 
 nothing to me ; where you are is my home. You 
 ought not to grumble because I feel like that." 
 
 " Grumble ! " he cried. " When did I ever grumble 
 at you ? Why, my Doremy — Yes ? What is it ? 
 Hullo! What is this?" 
 
 He had taken a missive from his bearer, who came 
 in at that moment. He tore it open and read it, and 
 I saw his hands begin to shake and his face blanch as 
 I had never seen it blanch before. 
 
 " Eddy ! " I cried. " What is it ? " 
 
 " Oh, Doremy ! Doremy ! " he cried. " I don't know 
 how to tell you I " 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 A RUDDERLESS SHIP ON AN UNKNOWN SEA 
 
 I GOT up from the long bamboo couch upon which 
 I was lying, just under the punkah, and went un- 
 steadily across the room towards him. 
 
 " What is it, Eddy ? " I asked. 
 
 He turned and looked at me. " Oh, my darling, 
 my dearest, how am I to tell you ? How could I 
 foresee that they would be such brutes as this ? 
 What shall I do ? What am I to do ? " 
 
 " You have not told me what it is." 
 
 " My dear, I am recalled." 
 
 " To the regiment ? " 
 
 "Yes. Something is wrong. The colonel tele- 
 graphs to me — ' All leave stopped. Return imme- 
 diately. Trouble on the frontier. We may have 
 received our orders, aDd marched out before you can 
 rejoin us. Do not delay a single moment.' Doremy," 
 he said, " if this had only come a few hours later I 
 should have been beyond recall. What am I to 
 do ? I cannot take you back to that cruel up-country 
 journey, with every day growing hotter and hotter, 
 when every arrangement is made for your journey. It 
 may seem to you as if I had played you false ; tricked 
 you. I swear to you that this is as great a blow to 
 me as it can possibly be to you. Don't send me 
 back heart-broken, feeling that you have cut off your 
 last chance of salvation, don't take away the child's 
 
 83 
 
84 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 one hope of living. Nurse Mordaunt will stick to 
 you until I can join you. I will make her promise 
 me, whether you are ill or well ; and you will have 
 Ayah, you will have the child. You will pity me 
 sufficiently not to refuse me this last shred of 
 comfort ? " 
 
 What could I do ? I said yes. It was for my 
 good, he had made every arrangement, we were on 
 the very eve of starting — the eve, nay, we were on 
 the very point of starting. I had no time to think, 
 so I said yes. I had no time to grieve. It seems 
 to me, looking back from now, that my dazed brain 
 refused to take in the full meaning of what that 
 telegram had conveyed. I had not sufficient will- 
 power left to set my wishes in opposition to my 
 husband's, to those round about me. I believe that 
 I consented, I feel sure that I did, but it was a 
 consent that was only wrung from me in the apathy 
 of my intense despair. 
 
 I let them do with me as they would. I re- 
 member clinging desperately to him as if, since we 
 had only a brief span of time left together — fewer 
 hours than I could count upon the fingers of one 
 hand — I would not waste so much as an instant of 
 the time. "No, don't ask me to eat anything," 
 was the only definite request that I made to any- 
 body. 
 
 I uttered no parting injunctions, lavished no fare- 
 well kisses upon him I was leaving ; I was too 
 wretched to make any sign of my intense misery. 
 So those two or three hours dragged their short 
 length away and my most distinct remembrance is of 
 going through the great cool hall of the hotel to 
 the carriage which was to take us down to the ship. 
 I remember distinctly hearing a tender woman's 
 
A RUDDERLESS SHIP ON AN UNKNOWN SEA 85 
 
 voice say in pitying accents — " How very ill that 
 poor young lady looks ! I suppose she is going 
 home." 
 
 I turned and looked at her. She was fresh and 
 strong and bright, evidently just out from England. 
 She could never have known what a travesty her 
 words sounded to my sad ears. Going home ! What a 
 mockery ! Going home ! Rather was I going like 
 a rudderless ship on an unknown sea, with the 
 length, breadth, depth and currents of which I was 
 all unfamiliar. I was leaving behind me my hold- 
 fast upon life, my commander, my navigating lieu- 
 tenant, my rudder, my one stand-by. 
 
 I remember very little about my actual parting 
 with Eddy. I have a distinct recollection that he 
 kept fast hold of me as long as we were left to- 
 gether, that he allowed nobody to touch me, but 
 carried me himself on board the ship, and that he 
 carried me again down to my cabin. I remember 
 hearing him talking earnestly to Nurse Mordaunt — 
 I mean that I was conscious that an earnest con- 
 versation was passing between them, but of what he 
 said to her, or what she replied to him, in solemn 
 truth I grasped nothing. I believed that I was 
 dying. Never before had such overpowering deadly 
 faintness taken possession of me. I was conscious 
 of a sharp, imperative rap upon the cabin door and 
 of an exceeding bitter cry — " My Doremy ! My 
 Doremy ! " And then I remember absolutely no- 
 thing; all was utterly and entirely blank until 
 I came to myself to find Ayah and Nurse Mordaunt 
 bending over me, the one pouring something liquid 
 and cold over my clenched hands, and the other hold- 
 ing a scented handkerchief to my nostrils. 
 
 " Where am I ? What has happened ? " I exclaimed 
 
86 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 Then memory came to my aid, and I realised my 
 horrible situation. " Oh, let me go back ! I cannot 
 go, I never consented to go — not alone. ... I would 
 rather stay in India and die. It is not too late. Put 
 me on shore. Let me go back. I don't mind dying, 
 I don't really, nurse. Where is Captain Hamlyn ? " 
 
 She looked at me with infinite pity. " My dear," 
 she said, in a very kind and tender voice, " what you 
 ask is impossible. We have already started on our 
 journey." 
 
 " No, no, don't say that ; don't say it." 
 
 " I must say it," she said ; " it is true, dear lady. Try 
 to accept it as your fate, and believe that it is all for 
 the best. Your poor husband was so anxious, almost 
 beside himself with anxiety. His only consolation in 
 leaving you was that it was for your good and to save 
 the child. See ! If I lift you up you can come to 
 the window and have a last look at him. I daresay 
 he is still standing watching us go." 
 
 She lifted me in her strong arms as if I had been no 
 more than a little child, and carried me to the port- 
 hole. I saw that the shore was fast receding, but 
 could distinguish no one from the crowd of watching 
 figures left behind. Small as the effort was, it was 
 too much for me, and, after straining my eager eyes 
 for a minute or so, I fell back again into Nurse 
 Mord aunt's arms. 
 
 She was very good to me, very wise, very judicious. 
 She spent a great deal of her vitality in trying to bol- 
 ster me up into something like life again, and I am 
 afraid that I was but a poor and ungrateful recipient 
 of all her skill and care. I used to feel and sometimes 
 to say that I should bless her if she would only let me 
 lie still and die quietly. At which she would shake 
 her head and reply, " Ah ! but the husband — would he 
 
A RUDDERLESS SHIP ON AN UNKNOWN SEA 87 
 
 bless me ? I don't quite think so. If you are tired of 
 him, Mrs Hamlyn, he is not tired of you, and I pro- 
 mised him that I would stay by you, and stick to you, 
 and do my best for you, and that is a promise which 
 I mean to keep. Come, come, you have got the 
 wrench of parting over. Try to count the days now 
 until you meet again." 
 
 " We shall never meet again," I said one day when 
 she was urging me in this strain. "I am entirely 
 convinced of that. How can I get well when I know 
 not what has happened to him ? How can I have the 
 heart to think of myself, when he is gone into danger 
 on the frontier ? " 
 
 " But it may be entirely a false alarm. For any- 
 thing that you know, that danger may be over, and 
 your husband may follow you by the very next ship. 
 Keep a brave heart, my dear, and hope for the best. 
 ' Hope on, hope ever,' that is a fine motto for us all. 
 Look at the improvement in that dear baby of yours. 
 Does it not make your mother's heart positively 
 dance to see her taking her food and noticing people, 
 and showing off all her pretty ways, instead of 
 being the lifeless little creature that she was a week 
 ago ? " 
 
 " I don't think, Nurse," I said drearily, " that my 
 heart will ever dance again ; there is no dance left in 
 it. I have left all my joy, all my hope behind me in 
 India. If I knew exactly what had happened to my 
 husband, I think I should feel different, but the un- 
 certainty, the suspense — oh, it is too horrible ! I don't 
 think you know what I am suffering." 
 
 "No, my dear, I don't, for I have never been 
 married," she said kindly. " But still, in any case, 
 you would like to please him, wouldn't you ? And 
 you cannot please him better than by taking care of 
 
88 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 yourself, by doing everything you can to restore 
 yourself to your proper state of health. You ought 
 to think that if you are suffering, he is suffering just 
 as badly, if not worse. And if he has health and 
 strength on his side, he has all the pain of knowing 
 that you, poor little frail thing, have neither the 
 heart nor the strength to battle with your troubles. 
 If you had seen his poor face when he had to go, 
 leaving you looking like death, not knowing, indeed, 
 whether you would ever come out of that faint or not, 
 oh, you would have been so sorry for him, you would 
 set yourself, like a schoolboy to a task, to get strong 
 and well, so as to be able to send him a cable the first 
 time that we touch land. Come now, tell me, don't you 
 think such a husband is worth making an effort for ? 
 Think what it would be to him if I could send him 
 a word saying, ' Both invalids decidedly improved.' 
 Why, it would make a new man of him, it would put 
 a new heart, new life into him. He would jump for 
 joy, and be ready and willing to bear anything that 
 might happen to come." 
 
 Somehow her brave words did serve to put new 
 life into me, and for Eddy's sake I tried — oh, I had 
 never tried so hard in my life to do anything — to 
 throw off the lethargy which threatened to overwhelm 
 me. I made great efforts to get up on deck, and 
 there I would lie for hours under the awning, trying 
 to take an interest in things that were going on 
 around me. I forced myself to eat and drink also, 
 though often it went sorely against the grain with 
 me. And with every fresh effort that I made did that 
 dear and good woman do her utmost to comfort and 
 to help me, praising me and petting me as if I were 
 doing something for her benefit rather than for my 
 own, sometimes treating me as you would treat a 
 
A RUDDERLESS SHIP ON AN UNKNOWN SEA 89 
 
 spoiled child, and sometimes making believe that I 
 was a rational woman, with some hope in her heart, 
 instead of being merely a mass of broken nerves, 
 heart-sick with despair. 
 
 Under her strong, fostering care it was wonderful 
 how I did improve both in health and in spirits. I 
 was lonely, wretched, home-sick, heart-sick ; but at 
 the same time I had already begun to look forward 
 to the blessed time when Eddy would join me or I 
 should rejoin him. I had begun, like a school-girl, to 
 count the hours to the holidays. I began to take an 
 eager interest in the welfare of the child, and certainly 
 little Frances grew and throve apace with every day 
 that went over our heads. 
 
 How that good woman did ply me with odds and 
 ends of food calculated to build up my strength again ! 
 " How is it ? " I said to her one day, " that you are 
 able to get all these things cooked at all sorts of odd 
 times ? " 
 
 " A woman of my profession," she replied briskly, 
 " understands the use of the oiled feather. I never let 
 my patients go without proper things to eat when they 
 are to be had for the asking." 
 
 " But are they to be had for the asking ? " 
 
 " Well, practically they are. I make a friend of 
 the steward. Well, first of all, I make a friend of the 
 captain. Then I make a friend of the steward, and I 
 tell him that I have a lady in my care who is delicate 
 (not ill, you know, oh, no, it doesn't do to tell him that 
 passengers at sea are ill ; he would hate that ; but 
 somebody who wants feeding up and little attentions), 
 and I get him to introduce me to one of the cooks, 
 and then I explain to the cook, what he knows per- 
 fectly well, that sick-cooking is a great trouble, that 
 every nurse ought to be able to sick-cook beautifully 
 
90 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 because it takes time, and is too finicky for a chef — 
 it always pay to call a cook a chef — with a large 
 number of meals on his hands. And then I am soon 
 mistress of a little stove and a couple of little pans, 
 and I have a little store of arrowroot, and gelatine 
 and such-like things, which I manipulate without up- 
 setting the valuable time of the chef, who has so much 
 responsibility on his hands. And then I throw out a 
 hint that there will be a sovereign for somebody at 
 the end of the journey. Oh, these people are very 
 easy to manage," she said knowingly, " but they have 
 to be managed in the right way." 
 
 " And then the poor patient has to be managed in 
 the right way," I suggested. 
 
 " Well, the nurse who wants to cram her patient 
 with food as you would cram a cow with medicine is 
 neither more than less than a fool, and ought to have 
 her badge ripped off. Some nurses, you know," she 
 went on, " seem as if they cannot go into a house, or 
 into any kind of an establishment, without trying 
 how much they can do to upset all the domestic 
 arrangements. I am not one of that sort. I like to 
 see people sorry when I go, and glad if I trouble to 
 show my face again afterwards. One hears long- 
 winded tales about nurses being badly treated. Pooh ! 
 I never get badly treated." 
 
 " I am sure," I cried, u you would never deserve it." 
 
 " That is why I never get it. Now, that obliging 
 young ' chef ' below here, he has given me two nice 
 little pans, one for meaty things and one for milky 
 things, and never once since we started, though I 
 have been down at least four times every day, have 
 I given him his pans back burned or not set to 
 
 • >» 
 rinse. 
 
 " What do you mean by being set to rinse ? " 
 
A RUDDERLESS SHIP ON AN UNKNOWN SEA 91 
 
 " Well, filling them up with water as soon as you 
 have done with them. It makes all the difference 
 when a pan is done with whether you pop a little 
 water into it or not, or whether you leave it to get 
 caked and hard." 
 
 She turned round and accosted a sailor who hap- 
 pened to be passing. " What is the fuss, John ? " she 
 asked, in her brisk, pleasant, capable voice. 
 
 He told her that we were just nearing Aden. 
 
 Nurse Mordaunt turned round and looked at me. 
 
 " Now, I wonder," she said, in her brisk way, " I 
 wonder whether we shall have a word from your 
 good husband ? At all events, whether or no, we 
 shall have the satisfaction of sending a reassuring 
 cable to him." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF HOME 
 
 I DID receive a message by cable from my husband 
 that day, indeed, as soon as we touched at Aden. 
 It seemed very short, but really it was as long as I 
 could reasonably expect. It said — " Fixture here. 
 No frontier news. All anxiety." 
 
 Nurse Mordaunt sent off our message to Eddy 
 from this place. She merely said, " Invalids steadily 
 improving." 
 
 " It is no use wasting money," she said sensibly, 
 " because we have no more information than that 
 to give him, and, of course, he will have a letter 
 from you much earlier than you can have one from 
 him." 
 
 I felt more satisfied after I had received Eddy's 
 message, because, if things remained quiet on the 
 frontier, and the threatened disturbances were quelled, 
 there was more than a chance that he would be able 
 to follow us and spend at least some time with us 
 in England. I scarcely, now that the wrench of 
 parting was over, regretted that I had been as it 
 were forced into leaving India. It was plain to the 
 meanest observation that the doctors had been right 
 in saying that such a journey would be the making 
 of me. With every day I recovered strength, and 
 became less of an invalid. I do not mean to say that 
 
 92 
 
MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF HOME 93 
 
 I was radiantly well, or that I was in anything like 
 a normal condition of health, but I was not so terribly 
 shattered and nerve-broken as I had been during 
 the last few weeks. I was able to take an interest 
 in the child, and to talk a little to my fellow- 
 passengers, and to read and write quite long letters 
 to Eddy. I used to write lying in my deck chair, 
 upon a blotting-pad propped half on my knee and 
 half upon the arm of my chair though I was only 
 strong enough to do but a few lines at a time. 
 
 So our long journey wore itself away. When we 
 reached Malta, Nurse Mordaunt insisted upon my 
 going on shore and taking a drive. She also coaxed 
 me into several shops, and tried to arouse my interest 
 in that way. Oh, I was very much better than I 
 had been, and after we got out of the Mediterranean 
 and into the cooler breezes, 1 picked up my strength 
 in a most wonderful manner. 
 
 " Why ! " Nurse exclaimed to me one day, when 
 I was walking on deck, " Captain Hamlyn would 
 hardly know you ! To think that this brisk young- 
 lady is the death-like little creature he carried on 
 board is almost incredible ! " 
 
 " I don't feel like a brisk young lady, Nurse," I 
 said deprecatingly. 
 
 " No, no, but you feel very different to what you 
 did, and you look a thousand pounds better, while 
 that dear baby is already a perfect picture." 
 
 That was quite true, and by the time that we 
 reached our destination I could not shut my eyes to 
 the immense improvement which had taken place in 
 my own appearance. I was more like dear Father's 
 " Dottikins " than I had been at any time since my 
 marriage. 
 
 How well I remember my first sight of English 
 
94 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 shores, of home — the home for which I had longed 
 so eagerly all my life. What a strange fate it was 
 that I should have come to it alone. I had planned 
 so often in my childhood the home-coming with my 
 dear mother, I had longed to come home with my 
 father, and both were lying quietly asleep in their 
 Indian graves, and would never see their native land 
 again. Then I had been so resolute in saying that 
 I would never return without my husband. And 
 by what a strange accident I had been forced from 
 my resolution, and sent across all those weary miles 
 of land and sea to seek health and strength upon the 
 shores of my native land, quite alone except for a 
 little child, who understood as yet nothing of the 
 difference between one country and another. 
 
 We reached Southampton just at the end of 
 October, and after staying there for a single night, 
 went the following day to London. On the whole 
 I was disappointed — yes, intensely disappointed. I 
 had expected such a grand city, almost that it would 
 really be paved with gold. I had thought to see 
 great palaces and mansions lining the broad road- 
 ways, and to see crowds of radiantly happy, well- 
 dressed people promenading up and down as I had 
 been accustomed to see the smartest people promen- 
 ading up and down the different malls in India. 
 And the reality was gloom, or the sharpest of 
 sunlight and shadow. Splendid mansions cheek by 
 jowl with sordid tumble-down dwellings, beautiful 
 horses and equipages side by side with fusty cabs 
 and donkey-carts, beggars and patricians elbowing 
 each other, and mingling with both strange, flaunting, 
 painted women with manners as brazen as their 
 singularly profuse hair. 
 
 " It is horrible," I said to Nurse. " What a dread- 
 
MY FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF HOME 95 
 
 fulcity! What rush, what hurry, what bustle! 
 Oh, I don't like this London." 
 
 " Ah, you will get used to that," she said quietly. 
 " When you have settled down comfortably in your 
 hotel and have had your dinner, you will feel more 
 at home ; and to-morrow morning, when you see Sir 
 Fergus Tiffany, he will tell you whether you ought 
 to remain here, or where you should go for the 
 best." 
 
 "I don't like your London," I said vehemently. 
 " Whatever Sir Fergus Tiffany says of my health, I 
 would not stay in London, Nurse. The smoke, the 
 gloom, the dinginess, they are all detestable." 
 
 " Ah, well, it is the end of October, it is the worst 
 part of the year," she said with the indifference of one 
 who is evidently quite used to the general atmosphere. 
 " See," she said, looking out, " that is the National 
 Gallery where all the pictures are. It is one of the 
 finest squares in Europe." 
 
 " Yes, it is big, but very dreary, and all the people 
 look like flies walking about," I answered disconso- 
 lately. I looked out of the cab window. "I think 
 your London is horrid," I said. 
 
 " Don't judge too hastily," said nurse, with a laugh. 
 " Nobody sees the best of London on the day of their 
 arrival from anywhere. London is best the better 
 you know it." 
 
 I felt but little better satisfied, all the same, when 
 we reached the hotel to which she had recommended 
 me to go. It was not a very imposing building, but 
 she said that they knew her, and that I should be ex- 
 tremely comfortable there, also that it was very quiet 
 and convenient for the West End. I suppose it was 
 all these things, but I was not used to English ways. 
 I felt cold and wretched, and Ayah made me feel still 
 
96 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 colder, for she shivered and shuddered, and her teeth 
 chattered, and when at last we got to the hotel, instead 
 of finding everything ready for us, as we should have 
 done in India, we had to wait ever so long before we 
 could be accommodated with a private sitting-room ; 
 and even then they seemed to think that it was a 
 most wonderful thing that I should require a fire. 
 
 " You will not require fires in your bedrooms, 
 madam ? " said the smart chambermaid who came to 
 attend to us. 
 
 " Indeed, yes," I said indignantly, " in each bedroom, 
 and plenty of wood. You do not understand how 
 cold this climate is to anybody just arrived from 
 India." 
 
 " You shall have a good supply of coals, madam," 
 said the chambermaid, with an amused look at poor 
 Ayah's brown face and expressive eyes. 
 
 Ayah curled herself up to the fire as near as she 
 could very well squeeze, and lay there like a dog, 
 chafing baby's little blue hands and coaxing her to 
 take her milk, talking to her in soft Hindustani and 
 unmistakably wishing that she were back in her 
 native sunshine again. 
 
 Oh, how I did feel the cold, the damp, the thickness 
 of the atmosphere ! And shall I ever forget my first 
 experience of a London fog, which put in an appear- 
 ance the very next day ! Nurse said it was a slight 
 fog, that it was not really very bad, and that such an 
 atmosphere as this was quite common in London 
 during the autumn and winter months. I called it 
 horrible. I sneezed and choked and sat huddled over 
 the fire, feeling almost as wretched as poor Ayah 
 looked — my eyes smarted, and my nose was quite 
 sore. " Is it like this all over England ? " I cried at 
 last impatiently. 
 
MY FIRST IMPRESSION OF HOME 97 
 
 "No, no; this is peculiar to London," Nurse 
 answered cheerfully. " You will soon get used to 
 it." 
 
 " I shall never get used to it," I exclaimed indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you will. Besides, it won't last. I dare- 
 say it will be quite gone by the afternoon ; at all 
 events, it is ten chances to one that to-morrow will be 
 a beautiful day." 
 
 But it was not gone by the afternoon, and the next 
 day was not in any sense beautiful. Indeed, it was 
 not until the third day after my arrival that I was 
 able to go in a cab to keep an appointment with the 
 great physician, Sir Fergus Tiffany. 
 
 To anyone who has been accustomed to medical 
 men in India, or to military doctors, an interview 
 with a great London specialist is at once a surprise 
 and a revelation. In one sense I was charmed with 
 Sir Fergus Tiffany. He was so bland, so urbane, so 
 kind, so fatherly ; but he told me nothing, or I should 
 say he told me nothing definite. 
 
 He examined the child thoroughly, and then bade 
 Ayah take her to the fire in the next room and keep 
 her warm. "I do not think," he said, as the door 
 closed behind her, " that you need have any anxiety 
 now about the child. The voyage from India has 
 evidently done great things for her, as your nurse 
 here says. She is getting of an age when she must 
 have care in feeding, and I will write you out a suit- 
 able dietary for a child of her age and of her tendency 
 to trouble with her teeth, which I would have you 
 follow as closely as is reasonable. What I mean is 
 this — is Nurse Mordaunt remaining with you ? " 
 
 " For the present, yes." 
 
 " Ah ! Then I need hardly explain to you. You 
 
 G 
 
98 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 understand, Nurse, follow the dietary as closely as is 
 possible under existing circumstances." 
 
 " Very good, Sir Fergus," said Nurse, quietly. 
 
 He then made a thorough examination of my lungs 
 and heart, tapped me and sounded me in every direc- 
 tion, until I began to feel as if I must have every 
 disease of the chest known to the medical profes- 
 sion. 
 
 " Nothing radically wrong," I heard him murmur to 
 Nurse. " Certain delicacy, heart not very strong, lungs 
 should have care. How long are you staying in Lon- 
 don, my dear lady ? " 
 
 I told him that I was staying only until I could 
 gain a definite opinion from him as to where I 
 had better go for the winter. " I don't like London," 
 I said decidedly. 
 
 " I would not keep you in London — no, not in Lon- 
 don. I would like you to stay a fortnight, and I 
 would like to put you on a course of tonic medicine 
 and of equally tonic baths. Then I think it would be 
 best to strike a mean between this climate and the 
 one to which you have been used." 
 
 " Do you mean that I am to go to Egypt VI said 
 blankly. 
 
 " Scarcely so far as that," with a smile, " no, scarcely 
 so far. I do not often prescribe Egypt for my patients. 
 I have never known very much good result from a 
 winter in Egypt ; I much prefer several places on the 
 Mediterranean." 
 
 " You mean the south of France ? " 
 
 " Yes, the south of France or northern Italy. I do 
 not believe in a very enervating climate. Now there 
 is San Remo, but San Remo is for people in consump- 
 tion, and I don't know that that would be particularly 
 cheerful for you. You are not in consumption, nor at 
 
MY FIRST IMPRESSION OF HOME 99 
 
 all likely to be. There is a little place not very far 
 from Nice that I think will suit you to perfection. 
 It is bright without being glaring, quiet without 
 being dull. There is a nice colony of English resi- 
 dents and a very good English doctor. I know him 
 intimately. He would look after you and see that 
 you had everything comfortable, and that you were 
 taken care of. The place is called Florestella." 
 
 At this point Nurse Mordaunt gave vent to a 
 murmur of satisfaction. "I was hoping that you 
 would say Florestella, Sir Fergus," she said, in her 
 bright and capable way. 
 
 " Ah, it is not the first patient of mine that you 
 have taken to Florestella, Nurse, not the first by a good 
 many. I think Florestella would suit Mrs Hamlyn as 
 well as any place I know, and would be good for the 
 baby. Then, too, it would enable that dusky lady in 
 the next room to winter in Europe. I suppose you 
 have no wish to get rid of your ayah ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! I should be lost indeed without 
 her," I cried, with quite a rush of energy. 
 
 He asked me a good many questions — questions 
 about my husband, about my life, my father and 
 mother. It was as if he were trying to diagnose, 
 not my present state of health, but my constitution 
 — what one might call my hereditary tendencies. 
 
 " Well, if Captain Hamlyn comes home it will be 
 quite easy for him to join you at Florestella, and 
 would indeed give him a little more time with you 
 than if he had to come all the way to England. And 
 it would be very good for him, too. It is a very good 
 climate, a restorative climate." 
 
 " I don't think that my husband needs anything of 
 that kind," I said, with a laugh. " He has never had 
 a day's illness in his life ; in fact, I do not think he 
 
100 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 knows what ill-health is. One place is very much 
 the same to him as another." 
 
 " Except," put in Nurse, smiling, " except that he 
 has a preference for the place where madam is." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! " I returned with a quick sigh. " But 
 then that is natural." 
 
 " Very natural," said Sir Fergus, holding out a kind, 
 white hand. " Well, now, do you stay in London a 
 fortnight, let me see the effect of my treatment upon 
 you, and then do you get away to Florestella, and 
 settle yourself there in a nice comfortable little hotel 
 which I will recommend to you, the hotel where I 
 send all my patients. We shall soon see if you are 
 not as strong and well as if you had never been in 
 India, or had an illness in your life." 
 
 As we drove away down Harley Street, Nurse Mor- 
 daunt turned and put a question to me. 
 
 " Now, Mrs Hamlyn," she said, " what do you think 
 of Sir Fergus ? " 
 
 "Oh, I think he is quite delightful, Nurse; almost 
 too charming." 
 
 "He is nice," she said, half proudly. "Indeed, I 
 always feel when I take a patient to Sir Fergus 
 Tiffany for the first time that I am not only taking 
 them to a great doctor, I am introducing them to a 
 great pleasure. There is nobody quite like him. You 
 may be a duchess or you may be a charity patient, 
 Sir Fergus Tiffany's manner is always just the same. 
 He takes no more trouble with a duchess than he does 
 with the poor soul who cannot pay even a single fee. 
 His kindness is endless, his charity unlimited, his good 
 heart — Oh, what a heart it is ! I don't know," she 
 went on, "that I ever knew any human being for 
 whom I have such a boundless respect as I have for 
 Sir Fergus Tiffany. And I was so hoping that he 
 
MY FIRST IMPRESSION OP HOME 101 
 
 would send you to Florestella. It is a dear little place, 
 all among orange groves and myrtle trees, and set on 
 the side of a hill which slopes down to the blue waters 
 of the Mediterranean. The air is bright and crisp, and 
 the life delightfully free and simple. Indeed, I think 
 there is not such another place in all the wide world." 
 
 " You have been there more than once ? " I asked. 
 
 " Several times. Many people go there year after 
 year, and those who once get bitten with the love of 
 it always seem to pine for it again. It is a little gem, 
 half village, half town, and quite unspoiled by what 
 makes most of the big places on the Riviera so un- 
 bearable. It is quite simple and primitive, quite 
 unfashionable, and yet," she said, with a smile, 
 " Florestella has a fashion of its own." 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 FLORESTELLA 
 
 A whole week had gone by since my first interview 
 with Sir Fergus Tiffany. I was already greatly im- 
 proved in health, and my first dislike of London was 
 beginning to wear away. Nurse Mordaunt and I used 
 to leave Ayah and baby in the hotel, to keep as warm 
 as they could by the blazing fire, and go off on various 
 errands of business or of pleasure. I liked hansom 
 cabs, and when I had been to a good fur shop, and 
 had bought myself a warm sealskin coat, I felt quite 
 ready for any kind of climate in which I might 
 happen to find myself. 
 
 I had instructions to go to Sir Fergus Tiffany 
 every third day ; and every day I had a very special 
 kind of bath, which took two hours of the morning, 
 while in the afternoons I did my shopping, for, natur- 
 ally, I did not see being in London without taking the 
 chance of buying myself some new and pretty cloth- 
 ing. I got through a good deal of money, but I 
 enjoyed myself amazingly, as much as it was possible 
 for me to enjoy anjthing which was not shared by 
 my husband. I had a letter from him during that 
 visit to London, written, poor dear, very soon after 
 our departure, and full of regret and anxiety. I felt 
 rather like a fraud, to think that he was worrying 
 and anxious about me, and here was I gallivanting 
 about London in hansom cabs, buying new dresses! 
 
 102 
 
FLORESTELLA 103 
 
 It did seem hard upon him, but I sent him a cable on 
 our arrival, and, whether extravagant or not, I sent 
 him another before I had been in London a week, just 
 to say that I was better. I wrote to him, of course, 
 but I did not see the good of his remaining for several 
 weeks in an agony of anxiety when, by spending a 
 few shillings, I could set his mind absolutely at rest 
 without any delay whatever. 
 
 When I went to Sir Fergus Tiffany for the third 
 time, he told me that I should be quite able to go to 
 Florestella at the end of another week, and that I 
 might safely make my arrangements in accordance 
 with that opinion. I certainly liked London better 
 than I had done at first, but I was delighted at his 
 verdict, partly because I was so glad that he really 
 thought me improved in health, and partly because I 
 was well pleased at the prospect of getting out of the 
 London atmosphere, which tried me terribly. 
 
 " I will write to the hotel at once, this very day, 
 and arrange about our rooms," I said to Nurse, as we 
 drove through Cavendish Square. " You know I like 
 London much better than I did, but I shall be de- 
 lighted to find myself in sunshine again. I cannot 
 think how English people look so well, and yet have 
 no sunshine." 
 
 " But they do have sunshine," said Nurse, smiling. 
 " They do have sunshine, only not just at this time of 
 the year. In spring and in summer London is lovely, 
 and people grumble then because they have too much 
 sunlight." 
 
 "Ah, well, I like sunshine all the year round. I 
 shall be delighted to find myself at Florestella," I cried. 
 
 She was silent for a minute or two, then she looked 
 at me half hesitatingly. " Mrs Hamlyn," she said, 
 " you have relations in England ? " 
 
104 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 " Yes, I have some relations, cousins and such like, 
 but I have never seen them, and I have never had 
 any communication with them whatever. They are 
 the same as nothing to me." 
 
 " But your husband, he has relations ? He told me 
 at the last moment, just as we left Bombay, that if I 
 was in urgent need of consultation — that is to say, 
 meaning if you should be dying or anything of that 
 kind, that I was to write or telegraph to his mother 
 or to his uncle, Lord Clovelly. Are you going abroad 
 without seeing either of them ? " 
 
 I felt myself stiffen all over. "I have no desire 
 to see either my mother-in-law or Lord Clovelly. 
 Nurse," I said quietly, " if I had been at any time in 
 a dying condition, it would, of course, have been best 
 for you to carry out my husband's instructions, which 
 were, however, meant only to be followed in case of 
 dire emergency. Of my own free will I shall never 
 meet Mrs Hamlyn, my mother-in-law. She has not 
 been nice to me, she has not been nice to her son in 
 the matter of his marriage ; she is not a nice woman. 
 I have no desire to see her, and I don't think that she 
 has the smallest desire to see me. Besides that, she 
 does not live in London, or near London ; she lives in 
 Devonshire. I believe it is a very long journey." 
 
 " Yes, it is a long journey, but Lord Clovelly — pos- 
 sibly he may be in London," she suggested. 
 
 " I have no wish to see Lord Clovelly. I want to 
 see nobody. I am quite a stranger and alone, pray do 
 not say anything more about it. Nothing would in- 
 duce me to go near any of these people." 
 
 " I see," she murmured comprehensively. " Excuse 
 me for speaking of it, pray. I had no wish to pry 
 into your private affairs ; it was only that I wanted 
 to remind you that, if we are going to Florestella 
 
FLORESTELLA 105 
 
 in a week's time, you have but little chance before 
 you of paying or receiving visits." 
 
 " Oh, that is all right, Nurse. You are most kind 
 to me," I cried. I put my hand upon hers because 
 she had been so good, so anxious about me, so more 
 than careful of my interests, that I would not have 
 hurt her feelings or have appeared wishful to snub 
 her for the whole world. " Captain Hamlyn will not 
 expect me to go near his people," I went on. " You 
 see they have not been quite as nice to me — at least, 
 his mother has not been quite as nice to me as she 
 might have been — as for his sake she might have 
 been," I added ; " and it will be time enough for me 
 to meet them when he returns home. By myself I 
 shall never go near any of them." 
 
 Nurse said no more on the subject, neither did I. 
 The week went by, Sir Fergus Tiffany expressed him- 
 self completely satisfied with my progress, and, on 
 the day that we had originally appointed, we turned 
 our backs upon London and set our faces towards 
 the blue waters of the Mediterranean. 
 
 I found Florestella all, and indeed more, than Nurse 
 Mordaunt had claimed for it. It was, as she had said 
 a gem of a place, set like a nest on the side of a hill, 
 with quaint little streets, quaint, picturesque houses 
 snugly hidden in groves of orange and myrtle trees, 
 bathed in sunshine, and the most cheerful little place 
 that I had ever been in. The blue waters of the 
 Mediterranean were an everlasting charm to me, and 
 Ayah used to sit sunning herself and baby, with every 
 expression of satisfaction on her lips and in her dark 
 eyes. 
 
 I found the little hotel to which Sir Fergus Tiffany 
 had recommended us extremely homelike and com- 
 fortable — something more than comfortable. He 
 
106 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 had called it a little hotel, but it was not in reality 
 a very small place, but was, indeed, a long, low, ram- 
 bling building, standing in a beautiful, well-kept 
 garden, and having various villas and dependances 
 attached to it. It was in one of these villas, which 
 communicated with the garden, that we had our 
 suite of apartments, which consisted of a charming 
 sitting-room and three fine and airy bedrooms. It 
 was not cheap — oh, dear, no ! But then, as I said 
 to Eddy when writing to him and describing the 
 exact details of our every-day life, where would have 
 been the advantage of saving a few pounds at the 
 expense of my health, which we were so anxious to 
 completely restore ? And apart from the actual cost 
 of living, our expenses were very small and our life 
 quite simple. 
 
 I spent a good deal of time idling about the gardens 
 and the quaint little streets of Florestella. I made 
 friends at the hotel, just friends in passing without 
 any great intimacy on either side, and Nurse and 
 I used to share their drives and their little excursions 
 in the immediate neighbourhood. 
 
 "If Captain Hamlyn does get leave," said Nurse 
 to me one morning, when I had received a letter from 
 Eddy, in which he spoke of matters on the frontier 
 having simmered down a good deal, and that there was 
 more than a chance he might be able to join me after 
 all, "he will scarcely believe that it is really you that 
 he will find here. You know, Mrs Hamlyn, it is a 
 great extravagance keeping me any longer, because 
 I am really of no use to you now." 
 
 " Oh, don't leave me ! " I cried. " I am getting 
 better, but I should run down again to a certainty 
 if you were not here. You act as a check upon me, 
 you are the last link with my husband, and I feel 
 
FLORESTELLA 107 
 
 more safe about baby whilst you are here. Don't 
 even speak of going away — you can't want to go 
 away," I answered almost fretfully. 
 
 "No, no. I don't want to go away, but I am 
 thinking of the expense to you." 
 
 " Oh, well, I am better, and I don't mind the little 
 expense if my health is quite restored. I am getting 
 on fast, Nurse, but I shall not get on fast if you go 
 away. I prefer you to stop." 
 
 " Then, of course, I will stop," she said promptly. 
 " I don't generally like an idle life, or to remain 
 longer with a patient than there is actual need of my 
 services, but I am very happy here with you, and I 
 am quite content to remain as long as you think I 
 can do you the smallest good. By-the-bye," she 
 remarked, in a different tone, " you know that there 
 are some new people come this morning ? " 
 
 " No, I did not know it. Who are they ? " 
 
 " It is an Austrian princess — a sweet-looking elderly 
 lady, with an invalid daughter. Such a string of 
 people they have brought with them, such a string of 
 people ! They have taken the royal suite on the first 
 floor, but if the young lady finds the noise too much, 
 they are going into the Villa Florestella as soon as it 
 is vacant." 
 
 " And what is the matter with the daughter ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " A kind of fading away, from what I could gather," 
 nurse replied. " I saw her helped out of the carriage. 
 She looks very ill." 
 
 " Is she young ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, quite young — not thirty I should say, 
 though you never can tell with invalids; perhaps 
 not more than seven or eight-and-twenty." 
 
 " Poor thing ! " I said, with a sigh. " Ah, well, she 
 
108 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 could not come to a sweeter place than this, and I 
 don't know if it would not be easier dying in such a 
 sweet spot than in some great gloomy city." 
 
 "I don't think the place makes much difference 
 when you get to that," said Nurse. " Most people 
 when they come to die care very little about it one 
 way or the other. In all my experience of nursing," 
 she went on, " I have never in my life once seen any 
 fear of death. With those who go sharply after quick 
 illnesses, they know very little about the end, and 
 those who go slowly get so physically worn out that 
 they do not care much which way it goes with them." 
 
 "Yes, that was how I felt when I left India," 
 I replied. "I would much rather have stayed there 
 quietly and died comfortably, than have come over 
 here alone and got well, as I have done." 
 
 " But you are glad now ? " she said, in her bright, 
 decided way. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am glad now for my husband's sake, 
 because he will be so happy to have me strong and 
 well again. And, of course, there is baby to think 
 of ; for her sake as well as for his I am more than 
 glad that I made the effort, or rather," I added, with 
 a smile, " that you and Captain Hamlyn made it for 
 me." 
 
 " Yes, yes. I knew you would feel like that," she 
 said, in a tone of much satisfaction. 
 
 I did not see the Austrian princess or her invalid 
 daughter for more than a week after their arrival 
 at the Hotel des Anglais. I heard, through Nurse, 
 that the invalid Princess Elisabeth, as they called her, 
 was suffering from the effects of her journey. Then 
 she told me that the princess herself had been for 
 a walk in the gardens, and that Princess Elisabeth 
 was going out in a bath-chair later on. A few days 
 
FLORESTELLA 109 
 
 after this I saw the two ladies, the younger one being 
 wheeled in an invalid chair by a very tall man-servant, 
 while her mother walked beside her. It was only a 
 passing glimpse that I caught of them. The invalid 
 struck me as being very sweet-looking, but very 
 fragile and ailing ; the mother was tall and of a dis- 
 tinguished appearance, with an imperious carriage of 
 head and throat, with that sweet yet proud expression 
 of eyes and face which somehow one learns to 
 associate with the grande noblesse, and very seldom 
 finds in that class when one is brought into contact 
 with it. I was conscious from the mere glance I had 
 in passing, that both were elegantly dressed, that the 
 servant wore a very elaborate livery, that they were 
 unmistakably people of great wealth as well as of 
 position. 
 
 From time to time I met them about the gardens, 
 but they did not in any way associate with the other 
 inmates of the hotel. They were quite the richest 
 and the most important people among the guests, and 
 as they were extremely exclusive and made no ad- 
 vances towards a single soul, naturally nobody among 
 the guests was able to make their acquaintance. 
 
 I used to hear the latest news of Princess Elisabeth 
 through Nurse Mordaunt, who quickly made the 
 acquaintance of the English-trained nurse in attend- 
 ance upon her. " The young princess is a little better 
 to-day," she used to say to me, when she came to my 
 room in the morning. " I saw her nurse just now. 
 She has had a better night, and feels very much 
 refreshed. I don't believe that they will pull her 
 through ; and yet, if any place in the world will 
 restore her to health and strength, Florestella is that 
 place. Ah, here is Ayah. Well, Ayah, how is your 
 charge this morning ? " 
 
110 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 It happened that Ayah's English was exceedingly 
 limited in quantity, so instead of answering Nurse 
 Mordaunt other than by a smile, she addressed herself 
 to me. " Missy Baba is not very well this morning," 
 she informed me. " Would the mem sahib order nurse 
 to come in and see her ? " 
 
 " Nurse," I said, turning to her, " Ayah is anxious 
 about baby ; do go in and see what is the matter." 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 STRICKEN FLO-REST ELLA 
 
 Wjien Nurse Mordaunt came back to my room after 
 visiting baby, she was inclined to make light of her 
 indisposition. " Oh, there is nothing the matter with 
 the child," she said ; " that ayah worships her so much 
 that she is over anxious. She has had a fretful night, 
 but what child that is teething does not sometimes 
 have that ? It would be just as well if the doctor 
 sees her when he comes to you this morning. But 
 you must not be surprised at her age if she does 
 ail from time to time, and Ayah is absurdly 
 anxious." 
 
 Nurse's words proved to be true. The doctor pro- 
 nounced that little Frances was slightly upset over a 
 tooth that was in process of making its way through 
 her gums, but beyond prescribing a simple, cooling 
 powder, he did nothing, and he bade us not have any 
 anxiety about her. For several weeks this kind of 
 health remained the child's portion. She got each 
 tooth with a certain amount of trouble, and with a 
 good deal of fretl'ulness, but she did not lose weight, 
 and she certainly throve generally. 
 
 I had grown thoroughly accustomed to my life at 
 Florestella before I had any definite news of my 
 husband. I do not mean that I did not hear from 
 him — that I did every mail — but until this letter he 
 sent me no definite news of his plans. The trouble 
 
 ill 
 
112 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 on the frontier had not simmered down so effectually 
 as to allow him to have leave to join me in Europe; 
 on the contrary, I eventually received the news that 
 he had got his orders for " the Bhozar Expedition," 
 and was to start immediately. " Before you receive 
 this I shall be actually at the front," he wrote. " I 
 have not cabled the news to you because I shall be 
 in no more danger than if I were still at Muttraha- 
 bad. You will understand, my dearest," he added, 
 " that in all active service no news is good news. If 
 any harm should happen to me you will hear it soon 
 enough, so if you do not have my letters quite regu- 
 larly, you are not to fret yourself to fiddlestrings, 
 and think that I am dead and done for. If anything 
 happens to me you will know it within a few hours. 
 Write to me as often as you can, tell me all the news 
 that you have, and I shall expect your assurance in 
 each letter that you are not fretting and moping, 
 and wearing yourself to a shadow with anxiety. 
 Keep all your energies for getting well, and think- 
 ing of the blessed time when we shall be together 
 again." 
 
 It was all very well to say that, to bid me neither 
 mope nor worry, but what woman, who loved her 
 husband as I loved my Eddy, could know that he 
 had gone to the front on a dangerous expedition, and 
 yet go on enjoying herself as if nothing out of the 
 common had happened ? Not I, for one. The receipt 
 of his letter was a terrible shock to me, and my health 
 fell away with alarming rapidity. 
 
 " It was just as well," said Nurse Mordaunt, a few 
 days after I had received the news of Eddy's where- 
 abouts, " that you did so resolutely keep me here. I 
 am afraid that you are not as thoroughly established in 
 health as you might be, since this news has so com- 
 
STRICKEN FLORESTELLA 113 
 
 pletely unnerved you and thrown you back again. 
 But you must be brave ; you must make an effort ; 
 you must think of the husband who is always think- 
 ing of you, and of the child who may one day need 
 you far more than she does now. Now I have got a 
 nice little cup of strong bouillon; it is something 
 quite superior to the ordinary wash they give you in 
 this part of the world, and I want you to dispose of 
 it at once." 
 
 I was like a child in her hands. I had to do what 
 she told me, and I drank the strong broth — which 
 I disliked intensely — as I would have taken some 
 nauseous draught of medicine at her hands. But I 
 did not recover my strength quite as well as she 
 desired me to do, and my anxiety about my husband 
 was increased by my inquietude as to little Frances, 
 who seemed by this time to be losing strength with 
 every hour and to be relapsing once more into the 
 pitiable state in which we had brought her from 
 India. 
 
 About this time, too, the neighbourhood of Flores- 
 tella was greatly disturbed by rumours of an insidious 
 kind of low fever which seemed to be permeating the 
 entire district. At that time of day influenza had 
 not set its seal upon the world, but I have often 
 thought since that surely influenza did not in truth 
 come from Russia but from that particular neighbour- 
 hood of which Florestella was the centre. 
 
 " I think we ought to move on, Mrs Hamlyn," 
 Nurse said to me one day, when I was sitting out 
 under the orange trees watching the child lying still 
 and inert in Ayah's arms. 
 
 " Yes, but where shall we go ? " I asked. 
 
 "I will make inquiries. I feel suspicious about 
 this place. I see so many children playing about 
 
 H 
 
114 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 the village who look as this baby looks, not so much 
 definitely ill as bleached and transparent. In two 
 or three cases I have stopped and asked the mothers 
 what ailed the child, always to receive the same 
 answer, an indefinite allusion to 'the fever,' as if 
 feverishness was quite a common complaint among 
 them. I fancy there is something wrong with the 
 drainage and the general health of the place. I 
 should like to move on." 
 
 " The question is where ? " I said anxiously. 
 
 " I will make inquiries," said Nurse, in her definite 
 and decided tones. 
 
 The result of her inquiries was to assure us that 
 the only healthy spot for miles around was Flore- 
 stella. She appealed to the doctor, and the doctor 
 told her that many invalids had been hustled off to 
 Florestella from the other towns, and that they had 
 brought with them a certain amount of an indefinite 
 kind of epidemic which was troubling the entire 
 Riviera. 
 
 " Do you think," I said to him, when he had given 
 us this piece of information, " that I should be wiser 
 if I took baby to England, or quite away from the 
 Riviera ? Because I am now well enough to live 
 anywhere, for a time at all events, and she is the 
 most important patient of the two." 
 
 For a moment or so he did not reply. I saw Nurse 
 look at him anxiously, and with an indescribable 
 manner, which told me somehow that his reply was a 
 foregone conclusion. 
 
 "Mrs Hamlyn," he said, in a low voice, "I don't 
 want to frighten you ; I don't believe in breaking 
 down people's hopes, particularly a mother who has, 
 as you have at present, the sole care of a child, an 
 only child, and other anxious troubles besides; but 
 
STRICKEN FLORESTELLA 115 
 
 indeed I cannot recommend you to take that child a 
 long journey in her present stato of health. It is a 
 very bad time of the year for travelling, the child is 
 exceedingly delicate, and her system has been a good 
 deal undermined by this continued fever. I don't 
 think you would succeed in getting her to England 
 alive, and, believe me, to leave this place you would 
 have to travel through districts which are far more 
 seriously infected than Florestella. I cannot advise 
 you to take her away just at present. I mean this," 
 he said, hastily, before I had time to speak, " and if 
 it were my own wife whom I were advising about 
 our own child, I would give to her the same advice 
 that I am now giving to you — you are safer here, 
 the child has a better chance here than she would or 
 could have by being moved just at this juncture." 
 
 " Then," I said, looking at nurse, " that settles the 
 question. Here we will remain." 
 
 I thought she was a little disappointed. "There 
 is no place higher up, no place within easy reach ? " 
 she said, looking at the doctor. 
 
 "Florestella has the cleanest bill of health for at 
 least fifty miles around," he made reply. "Mrs 
 Hamlyn, I will not hide from you the great danger 
 that besets you. I am your countryman, you know 
 — you must feel that I would not deceive you or lie 
 to you for any consideration in the world; but, 
 believe me, you are safer here than you would be 
 in leaving, and the child has a better chance." 
 
 What could I do in the face of such advice as 
 this ? It would have seemed like flying in the face 
 of Providence if I had done as Nurse Mordaunt 
 plainly and unmistakably wished me to do — that is, 
 pack up my belongings and leave Florestella im- 
 mediately. I do not think, although I was so much 
 
116 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 better in health, that I had ever felt so helpless as I 
 did that day. I felt as if I had no will power of my 
 own ; I felt as if I was caught like a bird in a trap, 
 like a fly in a spider's web; I could only lean on 
 these two strong natures — and they were opposed 
 to each other. 
 
 "I wish," said Nurse, vexedly, when the doctor 
 had taken his leave of me, "I wish that he had 
 said differently. I should like to get you away 
 from this place. I feel nervous and uneasy both 
 about you and the child." 
 
 " But the doctor gave chapter and verse," I said 
 to her. " He gave us good reasons. I could nM 
 take upon myself to carry a sick child on such a 
 long journey at this time of the year, when the 
 doctor had warned me that it would probably be 
 her death. And he did, Nurse, he was quite positive 
 about it. Think what it would be in England now, 
 with the east winds blowing, and Ayah cringing and 
 shuddering, and the poor child with inflammation of 
 the lungs, or something of that kind. Why, she 
 would not have a chance, even if she got there alive." 
 
 " No, I would not take her to England, but there 
 are other places besides England to which we might 
 have gone. We might have gone over the border 
 into Italy, and found some healthy spot where we 
 should have been free of this pestilence — this insidi- 
 ous epidemic, which nobody seems to understand." 
 
 " Yes, that is true enough," I said, " if we had gone 
 in the first instance; but, as Dr Knowles said, we 
 have to get through a large district that is much 
 more full of infection than Florestella. You know, 
 Nurse, Florestella does stand high." 
 
 "Yes, yes, it stands high, but I wish we stood 
 somewhere else," she said anxiously. 
 
STRICKEN FLORESTELLA 117 
 
 For a i'cw days after this, my baby rallied wonder- 
 fully, and became quite bright again. A mother's 
 heart catches eagerly at any sign of improvement in a 
 sick child, and I felt, oh, so gay, so glad, to think I 
 had done the right thing in following the doctor's 
 wishes, so thankful, so joyous, I almost forgot that my 
 husband had gone off on an expedition of the gravest 
 danger, and that we were by no means out of the 
 wood yet. 
 
 " You see, Nurse," I said triumphantly, " the doctor 
 was right. She is pulling up beautifully. Why, look 
 at her, she looks quite herself again." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I was only anxious for your sake and 
 hers, and thankful am I to see the smallest sign of 
 improvement in her, Mrs Hamlyn," said Nurse, 
 promptly. 
 
 There was nothing mean, petty, or small about 
 Nurse Mordaunt's character. She frankly owned 
 herself wrong, and admitted the fact with cheerful- 
 ness and thanksgiving. 
 
 I had no letter from Eddy by that mail. In the 
 English papers I saw some small and meagre accounts 
 that a certain expedition had been sent to Bhozar. It 
 gave no details, spoke of it as one of those petty wars 
 which are of no account, and only laid stress upon the 
 necessity of teaching the hill tribes of the Bhozar 
 district a sharp lesson which they would not for- 
 get in a hurry. Ay, but those sharp lessons often 
 cost very dear to those who teach them. I am afraid, 
 soldier's daughter and wife as I was, that at that 
 moment I would cheerfully and gladly have left the 
 hill tribes of the Bhozar district to do what they 
 would, so long as my nearest and dearest were out of 
 their reach. I had often heard it said that women 
 have no true imperialism, that they have but a small 
 
118 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 love of duty, that they can never dissociate the detail 
 of personal feeling from a general idea of honour and 
 glory, and assuredly I had none of these feelings, and 
 never could feel in sympathy with those wives of 
 olden time who had urged their men-folk on to doing 
 great deeds against desperate odds. I felt no pride 
 that my husband had gone to the front on an exceed- 
 ingly dangerous expedition, and that he might come 
 back covered with glory and medals, and even with a 
 title— oh, dear, no ! I would have foregone all earthly 
 honours and all the imperishable laurels of history to 
 have had him safe and sound even in fever-stricken 
 little Florestella. 
 
 It was not many days after this that my new-born 
 hopes about baby and the safety of Florestella all died 
 out. " Nurse," I said to her one day, " you are get- 
 ting fidgety and uneasy about something. What is 
 it ? Don't keep me in the dark if you have any 
 news." 
 
 My mind had gone instinctively out to the husband 
 from whom I had not heard by the last mail. " Tell 
 me," I went on, " have you had news from India ? 
 Don't keep anything back from me. It would be mis- 
 taken kindness to do so." 
 
 " Oh, no, Mrs Hamlyn," she replied, " I have had no 
 news from India ; I should not keep it a moment if I 
 had, even if it was the very worst that could happen. 
 I am uneasy and nervous — it is no use pretending 
 otherwise since you have observed it. They tell me 
 that the epidemic — fever — whatever it is — is very 
 much worse, and that Florestella itself is getting more 
 unsafe with every hour. That poor young Princess 
 Elisabeth is very ill ; they don't think that she will 
 leave this place alive, and one of her English nurses 
 died yesterday." 
 
STRICKEN FLORESTELLA 119 
 
 " What ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes. It has been hushed up, they don't want the 
 people to know, but she died of the fever. It is like 
 a plague ; I have never seen anything like it, in all 
 my experience. It seems to steal upon people un- 
 observed, to sap their strength, and then they are 
 gone like a snap of the fingers. I cannot make it out. 
 I have never seen anything like it. The only thing 
 to do with baby is to keep her in the hotel and the 
 gardens. Don't let Ayah set foot outside the gates. 
 We know that the hotel drainage is better than the 
 drainage in the village — at least, it is likely to be 
 better in the usual course of things, and we must 
 watch the child and you day and night. After all," 
 she added, " it is a great thing that she is keeping as 
 well as she seems to be." 
 
 " What are the people in the hotel saying ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " Oh, the landlord is pitiable about it, quite abject. 
 I met him this morning, and I spoke to him of the 
 dreadful state of affairs all round, and, poor soul ! 
 the tears came into his eyes, and he said it was 
 a judgment upon Florestella, but he could not tell 
 what Florestella had done. These southern people 
 are so superstitious," she ended, with a half contemp- 
 tuous smile. 
 
 But alas, alas ! With all our care, with all our pre- 
 cautions, our hopes, our watchings, we did not succeed 
 in keeping the dread enemy at bay. Another week 
 went by, a week in which my little Frances seemed 
 to pale and blanch and dwindle like a plant that is 
 denied light and water. Then there was a few hours' 
 increase of fever, and we three, so widely different — 
 Nurse, Ayah and I — but all alike in our love and 
 our anxiety, stood gazing clown upon a little form 
 
120 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 from which the spark of life had fled for ever. 
 It was all over — I had no child now. I had done my 
 best. I had struggled through the bad time, more for 
 Eddy's sake and for the child's than for my own, and 
 this was the end of it. I was a childless mother, 
 broken, sick, and practically alone upon a foreign 
 shore, with a husband who hourly carried his life in 
 his hand, and that upon the other side of the world. 
 And I was not yet twenty years old ! 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE PRINCESS ELISABETH 
 
 I was very ill for many days after my baby was 
 taken away. All the arrangements for her little 
 funeral were of necessity left to Nurse Morel aunt, 
 who came and sat by my couch, and told me in her 
 kind and tender voice, which I had not previously 
 in my admiration for her decisiveness of character 
 thought it would be possible to modulate to such 
 gentle and subdued accents, all the arrangements 
 which she had made on my behalf. She had chosen 
 my little darling's last sleeping-place on a sunny 
 slope of the graveyard high up the hillside, so that 
 she would lie for ever in the golden sunlight which 
 had mostly been her portion during her short sojourn 
 on this earth. 
 
 " The lovely scented petals of the rose trees which 
 bloom all over the graveyard will shower down upon 
 her," Nurse said, holding my hand in hers. " No little 
 child could have a more fitting place in which to lie," 
 she ended gently. 
 
 I heard all that she had to tell. I had no tears. 
 I did not weep, and wail, and fret and cry as some 
 young mothers would have done — my grief was 
 beyond that. 
 
 " I met the princess this morning," Nurse continued. 
 ' She had come out into the garden to get a breath of 
 
 121 
 
122 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 air before going to lie down. She had been up most 
 of the night with her daughter." 
 
 " And her daughter, how is she ? " I asked. 
 
 " Very, very ill. Tho princess stopped, and asked 
 after you; she bade me say that she was sorry for 
 your loss, and that she sympathised so much with 
 you. She told me that she had sent for some flowers 
 for you." 
 
 Late that evening Nurse Mordaunt brought me a 
 great, loosely-tied bunch of pure white blossoms, all 
 sweet-scented and fresh as the day, with a visiting 
 card attached to the end of one of the broad white 
 streamers with which the bouquet was tied. It bore 
 the name and coronet of the Princess Barzadiev, and 
 at the very top was written in a delicate pointed 
 hand, "With heart-felt sympathy from an anxious 
 mother." Nothing so far had touched me so much 
 as this message from one who was watching her only 
 daughter quietly fading away, one who had everything 
 that wealth, skill and love could do at her command, 
 and who was yet as powerless to stay the dread blow 
 so fast approaching as I had been in the case of my 
 little child with only her babe's feeble hold upon 
 life. 
 
 I think every lady in the hotel must have sent me 
 flowers that evening. When they carried my little 
 Frances away, the tiny bier upon w r hich her little 
 white coffin lay was so heaped up with pure white 
 blossoms that the silken covering which shrouded it 
 was in reality not needed. 
 
 " Put the princess's flowers with my own," was the 
 only instruction that I gave. 
 
 So I let them take her away — tho child I had come 
 so far to save — the child who was lost to me, so far 
 as this world goes, for ever. 
 
THE PRINCESS ELISABETH 123 
 
 Some clays went by before I was able to leave my 
 sofa and get out into the air again. Even then I 
 was sfood for so little and had so little reserve of 
 strength that I was obliged to avail myself of an 
 invalid chair. 
 
 Poor, heart-broken Ayah was pushing it along a 
 secluded pathway one day, and Nurse was walking 
 beside me, when we came suddenly upon the Princess 
 Barzadiev, who was walking alone, having evidently 
 just come out of her apartments for a breath of the 
 cool morning air. She stopped on seeing us and held 
 out her hand to me — such a slim, white, refined hand, 
 just a match for her delicate, high-bred face. She 
 addressed me in very good English, and though she 
 said little about my loss, yet contrived to make me 
 feel that she had real sympathy with me. " I have 
 thought of you so often during these past few days," 
 she said, "because, you know, my heart is aching 
 with the same sorrow which has torn yours so cruelly. 
 I cannot hope ever to take my only daughter away 
 alive from this spot where we have hoped such great 
 things might be done for her. If we could have got 
 away a month ago there might have been a chance — 
 a poor chance, and yet one at which we would have 
 caught so eagerly. As it is, this terrible fever has 
 her in its clutches, and it has become a question of 
 how long her strength will hold out against it, nothing 
 more than that." 
 
 I knew not what to say ; I was very young, and I 
 was broken down by my own troubles. I think I just 
 held her hand and listened while the tears ran down 
 my face in mute sympathy, which perhaps needed no 
 words. I tried, when I found my voice, to thank her 
 for the exquisite flowers that she had sent me, and for 
 the sympathy which she had expressed for me. Then 
 
124 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 Nurse asked, in her direct, simple, and frank way, 
 whether she had succeeded in replacing the nurse 
 whom they had lost. The princess told her no, that 
 the remaining nurse was almost worn out, and that 
 her own maids were doing their best to take her 
 place. " But," she said, in her sweet, sad voice, " they 
 are French women ; their cleverness consists in making 
 one's toilet, not in sick nursing, and Nurse and I have 
 to do the best we can between us." 
 
 I looked at Nurse Mordaunt and Nurse looked at 
 me, a question in both our eyes, and hovering upon 
 both our lips. Then I nodded to her, and she said, 
 " Oh, madame, if I could be of any use to you, Mrs 
 Hamlyn would not miss me very much. She has 
 the ayah at her disposal." 
 
 " Oh, I could not take your one comfort away from 
 you," cried the princess, instantly. 
 
 " Pray, don't speak of it like that. Nurse Mordaunt 
 is a comfort," I cried. " I don't deny it, but it will be 
 a greater comfort to me to feel that she is with you in 
 this sore strait. And besides, I can see her sometimes, 
 and I have Ayah, who has been with me ever since my 
 little child was born. She understands me, she can 
 do everything that I require. I am not ill, madame, 
 only troubled in heart and mind. Pray, if Nurse 
 Mordaunt will be of the very smallest comfort to you, 
 take her as freely and ungrudgingly as I give her to 
 you, as I know and I feel from your message and 
 your kindness to me, you would have given her to 
 me. 
 
 For a moment I think that the princess was tempted 
 to refuse our offer, then she suddenly bent down and, 
 taking both my hands, kissed me upon either cheek. 
 " I can never repay you," she said. " No words, no 
 actions of mine could ever make you feel how grate- 
 
THE PRINCESS ELISABETH 125 
 
 ful, how intensely grateful I am to you, but your 
 mother's heart will tell you more than my lips could 
 possibly do." 
 
 She kissed me again, then turned and clasped 
 nurse's hand in hers. " Come round to my rooms," 
 she said, in a choking voice, and then, drawing the 
 fine laces with which her head and shoulders were en- 
 veloped still more closely round her, she turned 
 abruptly and left us. 
 
 " You don't mind ? You quite understood me ? " 
 Nurse Mordaunt exclaimed, turning towards me 
 when we had watched the straight, slim, black- 
 robed figure disappear along the alley of myrtle 
 trees. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Nurse, I quite understood. My need of 
 you is over, Ayah can do everything that I require, 
 and, after all, I am not ill, I am not like that poor girl, 
 who is actually at death's door. I am afraid, Nurse," 
 I said presently, " that you have another sad experi- 
 ence before you. You cannot hope to be more than 
 an alleviation to her." 
 
 " That is a great deal when you come to the end," 
 she rejoined. 
 
 So she left me, and took up her new charge, spend- 
 ing all her time with the Austrian princess and her 
 sick daughter. Of course, she was still my nurse; 
 I had only lent her for the moment to these strangers, 
 who were in trouble as I was. She slept in her own 
 room, the room next to mine, and she came in and out 
 when she was off duty, always full of the sweetness 
 and kindliness of the Austrian lady's character, al- 
 ways full of the unspeakable resignation and patience 
 of the Princess Elisabeth. " I have always heard," 
 she said, " that the Austrian nobility were so eaten 
 alive with pride. They may be so, but it is a different 
 
126 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 kind of pride to what we call such. These ladies 
 may be proud ; they may be too proud to know 
 people who have made their money in byways and 
 highways, who have soiled their fingers by all sorts 
 of illegitimate bargainings and transactions, but in 
 everyday life they are delightful ; so simple, so charm- 
 ing, so homely, and yet of such dignity. It is a plea- 
 sure to be with them, to associate with them. Those 
 two French maids," she added in a different tone, 
 " are not up to very much. They may be good in 
 their own line, they may be able to dress their ladies 
 well and take care of complexions, but in an emer- 
 gency — pooh ! they are not worth their salt. 
 
 " I thought they had done their best ? " I said, in 
 surprise. 
 
 "Yes, so they say, and a very poor best it is. 
 There is a creature called Stephanie, Princess 
 Elisabeth's own maid, who has been three years with 
 her ; she has no more idea how to dress an invalid's 
 hair than she would have as to how one should groom 
 a horse ! She has no more idea how to make her 
 comfortable, how to settle her and refresh her than a 
 child. She is not very young, but her only idea 
 of making the poor thing's toilet is to bring her a 
 lot of scents and face-washes, and such like, and then 
 to get curling-tongs and curl her fringe up ! Idiot ! 
 Forgive me, Mrs Hamlyn, for unburdening my 
 mind of all this out to you, but I cannot say any- 
 thing there. Princess Elisabeth is filled with an 
 idea that Stephanie is the most devoted creature on 
 the face of the earth. I call Stephanie a fool, but 
 all the same, Stephanie is a perfect marvel of wisdom 
 in comparison with the other idiot who waits upon 
 madame herself. Talk about French women being 
 natty and domestic and homely, this precious pair 
 
THE PRINCESS ELISABETH 127 
 
 are fib for Bedlam ! I asked Victoire, yesterday, 
 if she would fetch a little wrap for madame, who 
 was sitting on the balcony, and who had just gone 
 out from her daughter's room with every proba- 
 bility of getting a chill and a severe attack of fever. 
 She went and fetched her a thing that would have 
 done to go to the opera in, a thing all point lace and 
 glittering spangles that rattled, and feathers and 
 satin and such like. I looked at Victoire," Nurse 
 Mordaunt went on, " and Victoire slunk out of the 
 room abashed. Oh, I think she was ashamed of 
 herself — yes. Of course, it is something to make 
 a flighty Frenchwoman feel that she has shown 
 an appalling want of sense. I went to the door, and 
 I said, ' If you will bring your lady something soft 
 and woolly, which will keep her warm without 
 making a noise, you can put that thing away. 
 She brought a very nice Shetland shawl, and I 
 wrapped the poor lady carefully in it to her extreme 
 gratification." 
 
 " And Princess Elisabeth, how is she to-day ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 "Very ill. I don't think the end can be very 
 far off now. She is so thin, so transparent, so 
 bloodless, so lifeless ; and, Mrs Hamlyn, she is very 
 anxious to see you." 
 
 " To see me ! " I ejaculated. 
 
 " She says you have saved her mother so much 
 anxiety, and added so much to her comfort by giving 
 me up to her. It is no use to tell her that I was 
 really unnecessary to you, she won't believe that. 
 She asked me if I would say to you with her compli- 
 ments that it would give her the greatest pleasure 
 if you would pay her a visit if only for a few 
 minutes. She said, ' Say to the English lady that 
 
128 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 I am not very strong and I cannot talk for long, 
 but I would like to have half-a-dozen words with 
 her. I am too weak to write, but I can express 
 myself with a look.' I told her, poor thing, that 
 I knew you would come. I have talked to her 
 a good deal about you and your anxiety about 
 your husband, of your pluck, and I have told 
 her over and over again of how he came down 
 to Bombay with you, how ill you were, how un- 
 willing to leave him, how distressed he was when 
 he received his message of recall. I have told her 
 over and over again, for she never seems to be 
 tired of hearing it, what a brave, gallant, upright, 
 handsome soldier he is, of how he loves you, and 
 of how you love him. It is her favourite subject 
 of conversation. She never seems to be tired of 
 talking about you or of hearing me talk, so if you 
 will come you will add one more kindness to what 
 you have done for them already." 
 
 I almost laughed. It seemed so preposterous 
 that I, a little unknown nobody from far-off India, 
 who had come alone, ill, friendless, to this great 
 continent of Europe, should find it in my power 
 to do kindnesses to these rich and powerful women 
 who were as the salt of the earth. Truly it was a 
 case of the mouse and the lion. " Why, of course, 
 Nurse, you knew that you could answer for me. I 
 wil come with pleasure, and do you give me a nod if 
 I tire her or if my visit seems to be too much for her. 
 I will try to be very quiet, I will try not to upset 
 her in any way, but you might give her a hint 
 that I am not well, that I am in trouble, too, and 
 not to say much about my anxieties, and my 
 troubles, because I am easily upset and unnerved. 
 When shall I come ? " 
 
THE PRINCESS ELISABETH 129 
 
 "If you come round in a quarter of an hour I 
 think that would satisfy her, and I will tell you 
 when she has had as much as she can bear." 
 
 It was then just hard upon sundown. I let 
 Nurse go back, and when a few minutes had 
 gone by, I wrapped a black lace shawl about my 
 head and shoulders, and went across the garden 
 from our villa to that part of the hotel in which the 
 princesses' suite of apartments was. 
 
 The princess herself received me. " Mrs Ham- 
 lyn, this is so kind of you," she said. " My daughter 
 had such an intense desire to see you, and I 
 confess that I hesitated to trespass further upon 
 your goodness." 
 
 I made haste to assure her that I was but too 
 pleased to come if my coming would give the very 
 smallest pleasure to her dear invalid. And then 
 she bade me accompany her to her daughter's 
 room. 
 
 So I was taken immediately into the chamber 
 where the young Princess Elisabeth lay a-dying. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 NEWS FROM BHOZAR 
 
 I only stayed a few minutes by the bedside of the 
 young princess on that my first visit to her. Of 
 course, I saw at the first glance that her days were 
 numbered ; the most unprofessional eye could not 
 have mistaken the signs of approaching dissolution 
 so painfully manifest in that sweet face. It was a 
 sweet face, not very much like madame, her mother, 
 and yet bearing something of the same impress. 
 
 " It is so kind of you to come and see me," she said, 
 holding out a thin and fragile hand which lay burning 
 in my own like a red-hot coal, " because I am such an 
 invalid at present, and cannot talk much or in any 
 way entertain you. I wanted to see you — I had a 
 great desire to see you — to thank you with all my 
 heart for having given up your charming nurse to me. 
 It was unfortunate that my second English nurse was 
 taken ill, and had to go back to England, and that my 
 mother was not able to replace her as easily as she 
 imagined she would be able to do." 
 
 So they had not told her of the nurse's death, and 
 probably she knew nothing of the fever with which 
 Florestella was stricken. I hastened to assure her 
 that in truth it had been no great sacrifice on my 
 part to give up Nurse Mordaunt to her. " You see, I 
 have my ayah," I said, " and she understands my ways 
 
 130 
 
NEWS FROM BHOZAR 131 
 
 and is able to do everything that I require. I was 
 indeed very glad that Nurse was able to come to you." 
 
 " Ah, that is your kind way of putting it," she said, 
 lying back on her pillows and looking at me with her 
 large hazel eyes ; " that is your way of putting it, Mrs 
 Hamlyn, but because you do not allow that your 
 kindness is worth mention, my mother and I are not 
 obliged to agree with you. You will never know the 
 difference that it has made to us to have such a nurse 
 as this suddenly placed at our disposal. Some day, 
 perhaps, we may be able to repay your self-sacrifice, 
 but only in a measure, never as it deserves." 
 
 The effort of talking seemed to exhaust her terribly, 
 and Nurse looked at me warningly, as if it would be 
 best if I took myself away. 
 
 " I think you are tired to-night, princess," I said to 
 the invalid. " Don't you think it would be better if I 
 came in again to see you ? At any time, if you send 
 Nurse for me, I will come to see you with pleasure." 
 
 She just touched my hand again and smiled. " You 
 are very good," she said, under her breath, as I rose 
 from my chair, " you are very good. Come and see 
 me again." 
 
 Nurse Mordaunt went out of the room with me. 
 As she closed the door behind her, I turned and asked 
 her a question. " Will she live through the night, do 
 you think ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," Nurse replied, " she may live for weeks ; 
 she has a wonderful store of strength behind all that 
 exhaustion. She will rally presently ; she does that 
 every day, that is the worst part of her complaint. 
 She might have lived for months, or dragged on even 
 for years, if it had not been for this fever. Poor girl, 
 it is that which is sapping her life out at the veryroot." 
 
 As I passed down the corridor, I saw the princess, 
 
132 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 who was in her sitting-room and on the look-out for 
 me. " I was afraid to stay in the room with my 
 daughter," she said, drawing me to the window, " be- 
 cause every extra person who is breathing the air 
 tends to exhaust her. That is why I slipped away 
 when I had taken you in. Tell me what you think 
 of her." 
 
 "I think she looks terribly ill, madame," I replied. 
 
 " Yes, yes, more than ill. I shall not have my child 
 with me long. I am quite prepared for it. I have 
 expected it, feared it, dreaded it for months past, but 
 it has been very near during these past few days. It 
 comes nearer with every moment. She was pleased 
 to see you ? " she continued, with a great effort at 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 " She seemed to be so ; she begged me to go and see 
 her again. You will send for me, madame, at any 
 time that I can be of the smallest pleasure or distrac- 
 tion to her." 
 
 " You are remaining in Florestella ? " she said. 
 
 " I am remaining for the present because I dread 
 leaving, and the doctor fears for my taking a journey 
 while my health is so bad as it is just now. I don't 
 think that I shall get the fever. I don't feel like it." 
 
 " Ah, one never knows. It would be better to get 
 away. I cannot go, of course. ... I could not move 
 my daughter in her present condition, that is out of 
 the question. But you — your tie here is broken ; you 
 have yourself and your husband to think of. My dear 
 friend," she went on, laying her slim hand upon my 
 shoulder with a gesture of affection, such as only the 
 shadow of grief ever begets in those who have but 
 just learned to know each other, "for his sake, you 
 ought to get away." 
 
 " Not for a few days," I said, drawing a deep breath. 
 
NEWS FROM BHOZAR 133 
 
 " I am not fit to take a journey, and Ayah is not fit to 
 do so either. I have to think of her a little. Some 
 Anglo-Indians do think of the natives, you know, 
 though the majority do not. Some treat the natives 
 as if they were dirt under their feet, and as if their 
 lives were worth nothing ; but this poor soul clung to 
 my little child with a devotion which has outshone 
 any devotion which I have ever seen, and I cannot 
 drag her off on a journey until she has somewhat re- 
 covered from her exhaustion and grief. I shall re- 
 main here for the present," I ended. " People who 
 have been used to living in India do not run away 
 like scared rabbits from the mere chance of infection." 
 
 So I remained on, and every day, sometimes twice, 
 Nurse Mordaunt would come round and fetch me to 
 pay a visit to the young princess. Sometimes I would 
 stay half-an-hour beside her, not talking much, but 
 just sitting there ; at others she would be tired in ten 
 minutes, and one day she said to me, " Mrs Hamlyn, 
 do you sing ? " 
 
 As a matter of fact, I did sing ; not very much, not 
 to pride myself upon it — for I had never had the 
 advantage or chance of receiving really good training 
 — but I had a pleasant little mezzo-soprano pipe, and 
 I sang, or I had been used to sing, to please myself, 
 and those who loved me. Having found out so much, 
 she insisted on my singing to her. She was passion- 
 ately fond of music, and the landlord of the Hotel des 
 Anglais, who would, I think, have given his head to 
 make the Austrian ladies happy or comfortable, 
 brought in a little piano from his wife's sitting- 
 room, and put it in the large and airy apartment 
 into which Princess Elisabeth's bed was moved every 
 morning through the folding doors from her sleeping 
 chamber. 
 
134 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 After the coming of the piano, I used to spend hours 
 there during the course of the day, going over all the 
 songs that I had ever known, not attempting to sing 
 grandly, but just crooning over the airs which were 
 her favourites and mine ; and sometimes the princess 
 herself would come and sit listening, and once or 
 twice she came into the corridor with me, and told 
 me, with tear-laden eyes, that never, never should she 
 be able to make me any adequate return for what I 
 had been able to do for her. "But I cannot help 
 being anxious and uneasy about you," she ended. 
 " You ought to be away from this place. It is not 
 right of you to stay here, The risk is too great." 
 
 "I shall not go away just at present," I replied 
 quietly. " The doctor thinks that I am better where 
 I am, and I have written to my physician in London, 
 Sir Fergus Tiffany, who confirms his opinion. I am 
 taking great care of myself. I carry a perfect phar- 
 macopoeia of drugs and preventatives here," touching 
 the bosom of my dress, " and I am taking quinine and 
 all sorts of strengthening medicines and tonics. I don't 
 think you need worry about me, Princess, I don't in- 
 deed ; and while I can make such a difference to 
 Princess Elisabeth I would rather stay where I am 
 than go out into the world among strangers again. 
 You forget," I went on, " I am not like someone who 
 has a home to go to; my home is thousands and 
 thousands of miles away. If I went back to it, I 
 should be alone just the same. I could not go to 
 join my husband. No woman could get to the Bhozar 
 district where he is, and if she could get there she 
 would not be permitted to do so, as affairs are at 
 present, so that I am better here than I should be 
 anywhere else. Don't trouble yourself about me; I 
 am happier here, und therefore I think that I am safer. 
 
NEWS FROM BHOZAR 135 
 
 " Ah ! " she said, with a sigh, " I would that I could 
 take you both away back to our home in Styria. It 
 is bleak there in the winter — that was why we left it 
 — but we have no fever." 
 
 I thought as the words fell from her lips that, if 
 they did not have fever they had other things quite 
 as deadly ; but it was of no use saying it, so I held 
 my peace. 
 
 " If it would be any service to you to go there now, 
 to take your ayah, and make it your home," she said 
 eagerly, " indeed, my dear Mrs Hamlyn, the castle is 
 absolutely at your disposal. Only you would be alone, 
 for my son has been away for many months now upon 
 a long hunting expedition — truly, I hardly know 
 where. He knows nothing so far of the trouble we 
 are in, I mean of the grave danger that besets his 
 sister. Of course, he knew that we were to spend the 
 winter in Florestella, that was arranged at the same 
 time as his long journey was planned out." 
 
 I thanked her very gratefully for her kind thought, 
 but said that I preferred to stay in Florestella rather 
 than face the loneliness of a place where I should 
 know nobody, and could not even speak the language 
 of the people about me. 
 
 So I remained on in Florestella, spending the greater 
 part of my day in helping to put the time on — the time 
 that was so weary and so distressing for the dying 
 young princess. 
 
 I heard twice from Eddy whilst I was thus occupied, 
 both letters written in ignorance of our little child's 
 death, both very full of the every-day events around 
 him, speaking of the difficulty of making war against 
 these guerilla-like hardy tribes, who had incomparably 
 the advantage over the British and even the native 
 troops, inasmuch as they were at home in the district. 
 
136 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 Both letters spoke of the extreme privation that they 
 were undergoing, and of the poor arrangements which 
 the authorities had made for their safety and their 
 well-being. "If it were not for our doctors," Eddy 
 wrote in his second letter, " I really do not know how 
 the poor devils of invalids would come off. Their 
 devotion is beyond all praise, and their pluck some- 
 thing astounding. What do you think of Stewart — 
 the gay lady-killer, who was always loafing around 
 Muttrahabad, a regular squire of dames — making beef 
 tea and mutton broth with his own hands for his 
 patients ? And yet I see him do it day after day. I 
 never thought Stewart had it in him. He is a regular 
 brick, and no mistake about it." 
 
 The letter went on to tell how rejoiced he was to 
 think that we, his two precious invalids, were 
 actually in Europe safe and well, and recovered from 
 all immediate danger. " When I remember," he 
 ended, " how resolute you were in refusing to go 
 away, and how wonderfully it all came about that 
 you should go in spite of yourself — for you know, 
 dearest, I could never have forced you to do anything 
 against your will— I can only think that a merciful 
 Providence intervened to help us both at that juncture. 
 You don't know how often I have thought of your 
 resolute determination not to leave me; you will 
 never understand how intensely I loved you for being 
 unwilling to do so, and I don't think you will ever 
 realise how utterly grateful I am to think that you 
 were made to go in spite of yourself. I feel that the 
 same Providence which has watched over you and 
 brought you and the dear child to renewed health 
 and safety, will watch over the fate of your always 
 loving and devoted husband ; at the same time, I do 
 nothing foolhardy. I take care of myself, I run no 
 
NEWS FROM BHOZAR 137 
 
 unnecessary risks — only cowards do that. Every 
 time that I safeguard myself I say in my own heart, 
 'It is for Doremy. Doremy loves me. Doremy 
 would miss me. I must watch over myself for her 
 sake.' " 
 
 Somehow that letter comforted me more than any 
 letter that I had received from Eddy since our 
 parting ; it seemed to bring him nearer to me. True, 
 he did not know as yet that we were childless, but 
 I was comforted to know that he was always thinking 
 about us, as I was always thinking about him. 
 
 Princess Elisabeth put the same question to me 
 every day — " Have you news of your husband ? " 
 And when I told her that I had received that last 
 letter of his, that I had just heard from him, that he 
 was well, in good health and taking care of himself, 
 her sweet face was radiated by a smile which told me 
 as nothing else would have done that I had indeed 
 won my way deep into her heart. Poor thing! she 
 was so ill that day — oh, so ill — so full of fever, and 
 yet so thoroughly exhausted. My heart ached for 
 her more than ever. 
 
 As the season advanced the severity of the 
 prevalent epidemic slowly and surely increased. 
 Those who were able to leave had flown from the 
 district, but those who were unable to face a long 
 journey, or unable to leave from other reasons, found 
 themselves caged like rats in a trap. Florestella 
 was not the worst of the fever-stricken towns in the 
 infected district, but it was more than bad enough. 
 Every day familiar faces disappeared. Sisters of 
 Mercy went trudging to and fro throughout the 
 town, and we who were in fair health were conscious, 
 without knowing the actual facts, that an unusual 
 disturbance was abroad. Strange and disquieting 
 
138 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 rumours came to us hourly of those who had slipped 
 away to other and less dangerous places, who had 
 been refused admittance lest they should carry the 
 fever in their train; others who had fled elsewhere 
 for safety had found themselves literally out of the 
 frying-pan into the fire, had found themselves from 
 a town with a comparatively clean bill of health in 
 one which was a seething mass of insidious corrup- 
 tion and disease. 
 
 " Best to stay where you are," was the fiat of the 
 doctor, when I asked him as to the truth of these 
 rumours. " I give you the same advice to-day that 
 I gave you when you asked me about the poor little 
 child. She had a ghost of a chance here — not a 
 great one — but still a chance — taken away she would 
 have had none. I say the same to you now. Take 
 the tonics that I give you and the precautions that I 
 recommend to you, and you may be tolerably safe; 
 make an effort to escape, and you will almost certainly 
 be caught as you fly." 
 
 But I had not the smallest intention of flying. 
 I felt that his advice was sound and good, and as 
 long as Princess Elisabeth wished for me, just so long 
 would I remain within reach of her. 
 
 " I would like," I said to him, "just one thing." 
 
 " And that is, Mrs Hamlyn— ? " 
 
 " I would have liked to have got my poor ayah 
 back to India, but I suppose that is out of the 
 question. I could not arrange for such a journey 
 here, and at this time. I suppose I shall have to keep 
 her until I am well enough to go back myself." 
 
 " You will not go back to India at present ? " 
 
 " Not if my husband has any chance of coming 
 over; but, failing that, I shall certainly go back 
 before the hot weather sets in, that would be in 
 
NEWS FROM BHOZAR 139 
 
 May or April, possibly. I could not stay over here 
 indefinitely if I were well enough to make the 
 journey back again. I suppose there is no help for 
 me but to keep ayah where she is. After all, this 
 climate is not like the English one for her, and she 
 has little or nothing to do in attending to me. 
 Still, I would have sent her back if it had been 
 fairly easy to arrange, For myself, I shall remain 
 here as long as Princess Elisabeth has any need of 
 me. She likes me to go and see her, and she is 
 wearing away so fast. She cannot keep me very 
 long." 
 
 " Not more than a few days," the doctor replied 
 gravely. " I do not say it to them, although her 
 poor mother knows what my every look means — but 
 a few days will see the Princess Elisabeth Barzadiev 
 over her earthly troubles." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ON BOARD THE " KAISERIN ELISABETH" 
 
 Dr Knowles's prophecy concerning the Princess 
 Elisabeth Barzadiev proved to be absolutely correct. 
 Only a few days after his conversation with me on 
 the subject, she passed quietly and painlessly away in 
 the presence of her mother, the two nurses and myself. 
 The princess was wonderfully calm. She showed no 
 inclination to give way, or, indeed, to give vent to her 
 feelings at all. 
 
 " I have been prepared for this for a long time," she 
 said, as we sat together at the window of her sitting- 
 room, which overlooked such a fair and smiling scene 
 that it seemed difficult to realise that there could be 
 in so bright a world anything so sad as parting and 
 death. " I have clone everything that a mother could 
 do. She could not have weathered the storm; she 
 had suffered enough. I am satisfied that she is at 
 rest with the Holy Mother, who did not see fit to 
 listen to my prayers that my child might be spared. 
 When she is laid away to rest, I shall leave Flore- 
 stella immediately." 
 
 " But where will you go, Princess ? " I asked. 
 
 "I shall go home. It will be quite simple. My 
 son's yacht is at Nice, and I have already ordered it 
 to be brought here without delay, so we shall avoid 
 going through the badly-infected districts, and will 
 go from here straight to the Adriatic. Had you 
 
 140 
 
ON BOARD THE " KAISERIN ELISABETH" 141 
 
 wished to leave I should have offered it to you, but it 
 only arrived from England a week ago, and at that 
 time you had definitely declined all idea of leaving as 
 long as Elisabeth wanted you. Now I want you to 
 resign yourself into my hands ; the sooner you are out 
 of this place the better. Do you go with me to Styria 
 and remain with me until your husband joins you, or 
 until you have definite news of him. That will' be 
 better for you than going to strangers, and it will be 
 the greatest mercy and kindness that you could possibly 
 show me. You don't know," she said, "you cannot 
 think, how I dread going home among my own people, 
 to whom my one girl was the joy of life and the light 
 of their eyes. She was worshipped at Ischelstein. If 
 I take you there and tell them how you, at the risk 
 of your very life, helped to soothe her last hours, 
 gratified her smallest wishes, did for her as no sister 
 could have done better, you don't know how they will 
 worship you, how they will try to repay you for your 
 goodness to me and mine. Come, you will not refuse 
 me this last great kindness." 
 
 "Oh, no!" I said. "But I think it is that the 
 kindness is all on your side. When you consider how 
 friendless I am, how unhappy and how desolate until 
 I meet my husband again, why, to be with you, with 
 such a bond between us, will not be like going into 
 a strange house. It will not be like going among 
 strangers; it will be like going home. Some day, 
 perhaps, my husband will be able to thank you ; I can 
 never do so properly." 
 
 " Nay," she cried, " it is I who have to thank you, 
 not you me. Pray never again let me hear you say 
 one word of thanks. You don't understand, my 
 child, quite all that you have done for me." 
 
 We had a painful but very quiet time to get through 
 
142 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 before we could leave Florestella. In those days the 
 last sad offices for the dead were very quickly carried 
 out ; there was no time for sentiment. As soon as they 
 could be decently shovelled out of sight and out of 
 harm's way, the poor worn-out remains of those who 
 had died of the deadly epidemic, which was fast ruin- 
 ing the entire neighbourhood, were carried up to the 
 graveyard on the hillside ; so on the second evening 
 after the Princess Elisabeth's death, she was carried 
 out of the hotel which had been her last home on 
 earth and laid close beside my little child under the 
 rose trees and the myrtle blossoms in the sunny grave- 
 yard. There was not the same profusion of flowers 
 lying upon her bier as had been sent for my baby girl. 
 Those who were left at Florestella were much too 
 nervous, too full of fear, to trouble about those who 
 had been taken. I remembered that when they had 
 carried my little child out of the villa in which she 
 had died, the landlord himself had been waiting at 
 the door, and that I had seen him salute the little 
 coffin and that he had stood bareheaded until it was 
 out of sight. When I held the princess's hand as we 
 paced behind the daughter's bier there was no landlord 
 to be seen. 
 
 " Where was the landlord, Nurse ? " I said to Nurse 
 Mordaunt afterwards. 
 
 She looked at me with a very mournful expression. 
 " Poor fellow," she said, " he died this morning." 
 
 " Oh ! You don't say so. And his poor wife ? " 
 
 " She knows nothing about it. His wife has been 
 unconscious for some hours. I don't think she will 
 get over it." 
 
 " Who is nursing them ? " 
 
 " Well, Mrs Hamlyn," she said, " we nurses are 
 accustomed to carrying our lives in our hands. As 
 
ON BOARD THE " KAISEMN ELISABETH" 143 
 
 soon as we had rested, after the princess's death, we 
 agreed with the princess herself that we should take 
 charge of the sick in the hotel. We are doing so at 
 her expense. I don't think that Nurse Rogers is quite 
 fitted to take up any more cases, but she is very- 
 courageous and determined not to give in. For my- 
 self, I never felt better in my life, and I shall remain 
 here until there are no more sick to nurse, or until I 
 go with the others." 
 
 " But you are going with us to Styria ? " 
 " No, I am not. I am coming after you to Styria, 
 when my work here is finished. No, don't say any- 
 thing, Mrs Hamlyn," she went on, laying her hands on 
 my wrists, and looking at me with her wonderful, 
 direct, steadfast gaze, " don't say anything. I never 
 turned my back on my duty in my life." 
 
 " But it is not your duty, your duty is to me." 
 " No, you are not ill, and you have Ayah, who can 
 do anything that you want. You will be safe enough 
 once you are on board the yacht. I will come to you 
 as soon as I have got through my work here." 
 
 It was no use arguing with her ; my arguments 
 had never prevailed with Nurse Mordaunt, and I 
 knew that they never would. She had made up her 
 mind to remain in Florestella, fever-stricken as it 
 was ; she had promised to come out to Styria as soon 
 as she was free to do so — that is to say, as soon as 
 her conscience had declared her free to do so, and 
 with that promise I was fain to be content. 
 
 So she left me, and took up her brave way by her- 
 self. I never saw Nurse Mordaunt again. I shall 
 never forget her as she stood at the gate of the hotel 
 garden watching us go. She looked so brave and 
 strong and fresh, so self-reliant and so placid, the 
 most like to the Minerva of any human being that I 
 
144 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 had ever seen. " I shall write to you when I have 
 time," was her last farewell. " I shall turn up again 
 in your life like the proverbial bad shilling. ' Naught,' 
 you know, ' was never in danger.' " 
 
 "And you will send on any letters that come for 
 me, Nurse, ? " I said. 
 
 " Oh, yes, most assuredly ; it shall be my first care. 
 Do you think I would let you be disappointed of a 
 letter from him by so much as a single post ? No, no, 
 Mrs Hamlyn, I sympathise with you, and I admire 
 you and love you too much for that. You shall 
 have your letters all right. You have written to tell 
 the husband of your plans ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course, I have done that," I cried, half 
 indignantly. " I have done everything I could think 
 of during this morning. I have left as little to 
 trouble you as I possibly could. By-the-bye, Nurse, 
 you never told me how it had fared with Madame 
 Antoine ? " 
 
 " Poor soul," said Nurse, her face falling, " poor soul ! 
 They have not been parted very long. I don't know 
 who will carry on the hotel, or what will become of 
 the children, but I shall do my best for them." 
 
 " You mean that she is gone ? " 
 
 " Yes, she has gone. And, Mrs Hamlyn " — she drew 
 me on one side — " if you have the chance of shipping 
 that ayah of yours back to her own country again you 
 had better do it. She looks to me very pinched and 
 strange. If I were you I would get the princess to 
 stop at Brindisi, and I would just put that lady on 
 board the first P. and 0. boat whether you find her a 
 billet or not. I would send her back again without 
 the delay of a single steamer." 
 
 " You don't think that Ayah is— ? " 
 
 " I don't think Ayah looks well, Mrs Hamlyn. If I 
 
ON BOARD THE " KAISERIN ELISABETH " 145 
 
 were you, I would send her home again. You will 
 quite readily find a European maid to suit you, and 
 she, poor soul, will not be really well until she is back 
 in India again. I think that is everything I have to 
 say to you. No, don't kiss me ; it is kind of you, and 
 I love you for it. I have loved you very dearly since 
 I have been looking after you — very dearly; but I 
 will kiss you when I meet you in Styria ; I will kiss 
 you twenty times then if you will let me. To-day I 
 don't think you would be any the better for it, so I 
 will ask you to say good-bye to me without it." 
 
 She came to the side of the carriage, talking hope- 
 fully and cheerfully all the time, and with a last pro- 
 mise that, when her work was done, she would come 
 straight to Ischelstein, she bade us her last farewell. 
 
 As I said, I never saw Nurse Mordaunt again ; I 
 never saw the brave, grey eyes, the firm, smiling 
 mouth, or felt again the touch of the cool, capable 
 hands of that noble woman whom we left behind in 
 fever-stricken Florestella. Nurse Mordaunt never 
 finished her work there ; on the contrary, the work 
 finished her — but here I am running on a little too 
 fast. 
 
 To go on with my story as it all happened, the 
 princess and I, within a hour and a-half of leaving 
 the Hotel des Anglais, found ourselves on board the 
 yacht Kaiserin Elisabeth, which was lying a mile or 
 so from shore in Florestella harbour. When I first 
 set foot upon her clean, white decks, I felt as if a 
 new life had opened out before me ; a strange sense 
 of safety came rushing over me, and yet my eyes 
 turned instinctively back to the graveyard on the 
 hillside where the princess and I had left behind 
 us the dearest and sweetest tokens of our earthly 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 K 
 
146 THE STRANGE STORY OP MY LIFE 
 
 Well, it was no use looking back, no use repining. 
 There were those on earth to think of, to live for, to 
 consider. I turned away to see Ayah, poor wretch, 
 leaning over the side of the vessel, her black eyes 
 fixed upon little Frances's grave, her slight frame 
 shaken by sobs, her dusky face contorted with grief. 
 I was about to go across and speak to her when a 
 touch from the hand of the princess stopped me. 
 " Better leave her alone," she murmured. " Happier 
 are those who can weep. You and I have no tears. 
 How much better we should be if we had." 
 
 By-and-by, when she was more calm, I sounded her 
 as to the advisability of our asking the princess to 
 call at Brindisi that she might be transferred to the 
 first P. and O. boat, and conveyed back to her own 
 country. To my intense surprise, she implored me 
 not to send her away ; declared that she did not feel 
 the European climate in the least ; that she was prac- 
 tically friendless, and that she had no desire to go 
 back to the very few relations that she possessed. 
 " It will be time for me to go back to India when you 
 go," she entreated me, with the tears streaming down 
 her face. "Don't send me away; by-and-by there 
 may be another Missy Baba, and then you will be 
 glad of poor ayah, who loved Missy Baba with all 
 her heart. Don't send me away," she cried. " It is 
 bad enough as it is." 
 
 " What could I do ? It made no difference to the 
 princess whether I took with me an ayah, an English 
 maid, or a French one. There was no difficulty about 
 our passports, for the princess's was made out for her 
 entire entourage, and she did not trouble to explain 
 to those who had vised the important-looking missive 
 that I was not the Princess Elisabeth or that Ayah 
 was not the English nurse whom she had brought 
 
ON BOARD THE " KAISERIN ELISABETH " 147 
 
 into Florestella with her. The number of people was 
 the same, and in those days of almost universal scare, 
 that was more than sufficient. 
 
 So we went on towards the Adriatic, not hurrying 
 on our way, hoping that we might have a clean bill of 
 health — that is to say, that we might have passed the 
 prescribed number of days without any outbreak of 
 sickness which were necessary ere we could touch at 
 any port without having to undergo a long quaran- 
 tine. We had arranged before leaving Florestella 
 that we should call for letters at Leghorn, but without 
 attempting to land, which was just as well, for we 
 should not have been permitted to do so ; but we did 
 contrive to get our letters and a batch of English 
 papers sent out to us. Among the letters was one for 
 me from Eddy, complaining bitterly that he had not 
 heard from me for several mails. " I know, of course, 
 darling," he wrote, " that all the postal arrangements 
 out here are just beastly ; still, when I miss hearing 
 from you, I am always desperately anxious and un- 
 easy. If anything goes wrong, I would rather that 
 you sent me a cable. I should have a better chance, 
 perhaps, of getting it than of receiving a mere letter." 
 
 So he did not yet know of the child's death. Some- 
 thing had gone wrong, and I, at sea in a yacht that 
 was not permitted to touch at any port, excepting to 
 receive letters thrown to us in a bag at the end of a 
 rope, had no chance of telegraphing the news that I 
 had to tell. And what would have been the good ? 
 I made up my mind that I would send him a message 
 from Venice, where we were to stop, and where we 
 should be comparatively free if our bill of health was 
 clean. Yes, I would do that. 
 
 But when we got to Venice, I had no longer any 
 idea of carrying that plan into execution. I received 
 
148 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 two terrible pieces of news. One came in a letter 
 written by a French Sister of Mercy, telling me that 
 Nurse Mordaunt had suddenly been stricken down 
 with the fever, and was dead ; the other was con- 
 tained in the English newspapers, and told me, with 
 plain, uncompromising distinctness, that I was a 
 widow. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A CHILDLESS WIDOW 
 
 The news of my great loss came to me and was in 
 a measure broken by the way in which I read the 
 newspapers which contained it. Naturally we re- 
 ceived a complete batch of English papers, those of 
 more than a week past, and by the merest chance I 
 happened to open the one which was of the oldest date. 
 As I spread the sheet the first words that caught my 
 eye were, standing out in bold, black letters at the 
 head of a column,—" THE BHOZAR EXPEDITION. 
 SHARP BRUSH WITH THE ENEMY." 
 
 For a minute or two I was so stunned that I was 
 afraid to look down the column. It was just one 
 of the usual callous announcements in which such 
 incidents are told. It described how the Bhozaris 
 had attempted to take the English camp by surprise, 
 how our men had been prepared and had sallied forth 
 in the most brilliant style, completely routing the 
 attacking party, and dealing out death and destruc- 
 tion in superb and masterly style. " Our casualties," 
 it ended, "are very small. Captain the Honour- 
 able Edward Hamlyn and four men of the 23rd 
 Dragoons killed; seventeen wounded, including two 
 officers ; Captain Hamlyn severely wounded, and 
 Lieutenant Curzon, of the same regiment, slightly 
 wounded. Casualties among the native troops, 
 
 149 
 
150 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 twenty-three. None of a serious character re- 
 ported." 
 
 I never thought of looking at the other papers. I 
 sat there holding the one which had brought the fatal 
 news in my hand, and so the princess found me some 
 little time later. 
 
 " My dear — my child — what has happened ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 I turned my face towards her. She must have 
 guessed my news from the pitiful cry which broke 
 from her lips. She dropped down beside me, and 
 putting her arm about me, drew the paper from my 
 nerveless grasp, while she eagerly scanned the column. 
 " My poor child ! Oh, my poor child ! It is hard upon 
 you," she exclaimed in tender and pitiful accents. 
 " What shall we do ? Shall we go straight back to 
 Brindisi and take the first Indian steamer from there ? 
 My poor child, what can I say to comfort you ? " 
 
 What could she say ? Simply nothing. I tried to 
 picture what my poor boy was suffering and bearing 
 alone, without a woman's hand near him, dangerously 
 wounded in that hateful mountain district. I tried 
 to calculate how long a time must pass before, by the 
 greatest good luck, I could possibly reach him, but my 
 brain was whirling, and refused to act. I could only 
 realise in a dazed and hopeless fashion that the blow 
 which I had been dreading had fallen, that I was face 
 to face, for the first time in my life, with the horrors 
 of the career which had hitherto been my pride. 
 
 The princess, still keeping her arm about my 
 shoulders, began to turn over the other papers. " My 
 dear," she said, " you may have further news. This 
 is an old paper. Here are some of a week's later 
 date." She released me that she might the more 
 quickly turn the crackling sheets over. "No news 
 
A CHILDLESS WIDOW 151 
 
 in that," she said, laying it down, " nor in that," put- 
 ting down the next one. Then she uttered an ex- 
 clamation short and sharp — " Ah ! " 
 
 I looked up eagerly. She turned and looked at me. 
 " My poor girl ! My dear child ! " she said pitifully. 
 
 I put my hands before my eyes trying to shut out 
 the hideous news which I saw written on her kind 
 and tender face. "Don't tell me," I said. And yet, 
 what was the good of keeping it ? I knew. 
 
 She was very kind and very wise with me. She 
 sat there beside me holding me fast in her arms, 
 rocking me slowly to and fro, and murmuring over 
 me as a mother might murmur over a wounded child. 
 My own mother could not have been more tender or 
 more sympathetic. And at last, after a long time, I 
 whispered, " When was it ? " 
 
 Little by little she told me all the sad details. 
 Details, did I say ? Well, such details as are given 
 in a telegraphic war despatch. " Captain Hamlyn 
 died of his wounds at daybreak yesterday." It was 
 hours before I could bring myself to read the words 
 with my own eyes, the fatal words which conveyed to 
 me that I was indeed alone in the world, a childless 
 widow, a woman scarce yet a woman grown, the light 
 of whose life had gone out, whose sun of hope had 
 been suddenly drowned, drowned in tears of despair. 
 And yet I had no tears. I never shed one single drop 
 of comfort for the best and dearest husband that ever 
 woman was blessed with. I don't think that I quite 
 knew what I was doing. I have a recollection that 
 the princess asked me again whether I would like the 
 yacht to retrace its course and to go out to India by 
 the next steamer ? " Because if you would," she said, 
 " I will go with you. I can send messages home by 
 the yacht. I am absolutely at your disposal." 
 
152 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 But what would have been the good of my going 
 out to India? I could not go out to the Bhozar 
 district, and even if we had been able to do so, we 
 should probably have found the whole expedition 
 over and the country abandoned, or at most, in care 
 of a British Resident. What was the good of my 
 going back all those thousands of miles over land and 
 sea, only to find an empty and desolate home at 
 Muttrahabad ? Nay, it was not our home ; it had 
 been but a furnished bungalow, and Eddy had written 
 to me that he had given it up definitely as soon as he 
 knew for certain that he had orders for the Bhozar 
 expedition. 
 
 " On the other hand," the princess continued, hold- 
 ing my hand fast within her own, " here am I, a 
 desolate woman, clinging to you with a bleeding heart 
 full of affection, dreading that you should be taken 
 away from me. I entreat and implore you to give 
 the rest of your life to me." 
 
 " You have a son," I said to her. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, yes, I have a son — a dear, dear, good 
 kind and only son — but when you come to be my age 
 when you come to be bereaved of the everyday com- 
 panion of eight-and- twenty years, it is not your son 
 who fills up the whole of the gaping wound. Men do 
 not feel things as women do, excepting for their wives. 
 I know that when Louis hears the news of our great 
 loss, he will be cruelly, bitterly wounded ; but he is a 
 man, he is young, he has the world and his life before 
 him, his deepest interest in life is yet to come. It will 
 not, cannot be to him what it is, and must always be 
 to me. He travels, he hunts, he has interests in a 
 dozen pursuits from which I am entirely cut off. His 
 grief will be for a time, mine for eternity. It is only 
 human. I do not blame him — better son and brother 
 
A CUILDLESS WIDOW 153 
 
 never lived — but he is a man ; it is women who grieve 
 always. I am perhaps thinking most of myself when 
 I ask you to cast in your lot with mine, and to take 
 my lost Elisabeth's place, to let me in some measure 
 take the place of that dear, gallant, brave soldier for 
 whom your heart is broken to-day. If mine were a 
 gay, bright, sunshiny house, full of young people, full 
 of life and stir, I might have hesitated to ask you to 
 share it ; as it is, I feel that the bond between us two 
 is out of our tribulation and our great bereavements. 
 What do you say ? " 
 
 What could I say ? I had no money, I had come 
 almost to the end of my small store by the time that 
 we left Florestella. I had drawn out of the bank the 
 last of what Eddy called our emergency money, just 
 over three hundred pounds, at the time of my little 
 Frances's death, thinking that I might have need of 
 it to go back suddenly to India, and that I should feel 
 more safe if I had it in my own keeping than if I had 
 in that plague-stricken village to wait for funds. 
 Even of that I had used some. " Madame," I said to 
 her, "do you realise how poor and how friendless I 
 am ? I have no money — oh, well, something under 
 three hundred pounds, which is so little that it hardly 
 counts. I have no friends, no relations that I know 
 of. I am quite alone. Do you realise what it is you 
 are asking me to do ? " 
 
 " I am asking you," she said, in her softest voice, 
 " to come to me as you are, to be my dear adopted 
 daughter; to try and forget with me the cruel and 
 bitter time through which you have passed and are 
 now passing. I know that it will be long before that 
 blessed state arrives for you, but where do you think 
 you will find anyone who will understand so well as I 
 do, all those cruel pangs which are tearing your heart 
 
154 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 at this moment ? Come, say yes. Give me something 
 to live for, give me something to let my broken 
 mother's heart twine itself around, and let me find my 
 most blessed occupation in trying to bring the com- 
 parative happiness of forgetfulness to one who did 
 for me what perhaps nobody else in all the world 
 could have done." 
 
 In my desolation, my loneliness, my overwhelming 
 grief, I consented, and gave myself and my life into 
 the hands of one who seemed to be more like a saint 
 than anything in human form, than any woman I had 
 ever known during mv whole life. 
 
 What ha* aft srw ada is, speaking quite truth- 
 
 fully, more or less of a dream to me. I have said that 
 I had no tears. When I had once consented to become 
 the princess's adopted daughter, I seemed to surrender 
 all my will-power into her hands : indeed, I had no 
 longer any will of my own. I wished to have none. 
 She did with me as she would, and as her instinct 
 and her wish was to get back to Ischelstein. we con- 
 tinued our journey without any further interruption 
 or without breaking it in anv wav. I asked no 
 questions. I felt no impatience at the length of the 
 time we had to spend in railway carriages, I had no 
 preference as to food, and was, I think, only saved 
 from mental destruction by my extreme youth, and 
 by the fact that I was able to sleep as soon as my 
 head touched the pillow. 
 
 In due course of time we arrived at the Castle of 
 faehelst in. I had known, of course, from the style 
 in which they lived at Florestella, and from the size 
 and beauty of the Ka E that the 
 
 Barzadievs must be a rich and powerful family, but 
 until we drove in to the great courtyard of the castle 
 I had not in any way realised the princely splendour 
 
A CHILDLESS WIDOW 155 
 
 of the princess's home and surroundings. What a 
 place it was ! A castle ? Why, it was a palace and a 
 castle in one. 
 
 We arrived just at nightfall, and it seemed to me 
 from the rows and rows of twinkling lights which 
 flashed on all sides that we had come to a town. " Is 
 this the village ? " I said to the princess. 
 
 " No, my dear child, this is the castle," she replied. 
 
 " This great place ? " I exclaimed. " But surely 
 these rows of lights are not all your own ? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly. These are the castle lights, of 
 course." She spoke in quite an ordinary tone, some- 
 what tinged with surprise, and evidently the spectacle 
 was an everyday one with her. "I thought you 
 realised, dear child," she said, " that Ischelstein was a 
 rather large place." 
 
 " I do not think that I realised anything," I replied. 
 " I have never seen any such place in my life. Who 
 are all these people ? " 
 
 " Those are some of the servants," she answered. 
 
 Some of the servants 1 They came out with torches 
 and in shoals, and greeted the home-coming of the 
 Chatelaine not with loud " Hochs " of welcome, but 
 with rippling murmurs of sympathy. The princess 
 was very pale, and was visibly moved. She spoke to 
 one or two of the seniors, white-headed, stately per- 
 sonages, and passed at once, holding my hand, under 
 the great entrance. There I found myself in an 
 enormous hall, brilliantly lighted, a great echoing 
 chamber with a groined stone roof, whose white walls 
 were hung with great antlers and trophies of the 
 chase. 
 
 There were more servants and retainers there, more 
 murmurs of welcome and subdued sympathy. The 
 princess walked almost to the great hearth, and there 
 
156 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 she stopped before an elderly man who, by his appear- 
 ance and dress, was apparently the head of the 
 household. To him she spoke in German. I did not 
 know very much of the language, but I had enough 
 knowledge of it to be able to follow her. 
 
 " Hermann," she said, " I wrote to you telling you 
 of Mrs Hamlyn, the English lady who was so very 
 kind to our dear Princess Elisabeth, whom you and I 
 and all of us loved so dearly. Mrs Hamlyn has had 
 a great loss since my saint was taken away. Her 
 husband, a gallant English soldier, has fallen in an 
 engagement with some hill tribes, far away on 
 the frontier of India. She is quite alone in the 
 world, and I have persuaded her to come to me 
 and be my dear adopted daughter. Will you 
 make known to my people that Mrs Hamlyn will 
 remain here, that she will live with me, and, as 
 far as possible, will take the place of Princess Elisa- 
 beth ? I shall expect the same attention and cour- 
 tesy to her as was always freely and willingly given 
 to my daughter. I can never repay her for her 
 past kindness, but I shall regard any attention and 
 any kindness that my people show in the future to 
 Mrs Hamlyn as an act of kindness and attention 
 given personally to me." 
 
 To my surprise, the major-domo, for such I imagined 
 was his position, dropped upon one knee and raised the 
 hand of the princess to his lips, then he stood up, 
 moved a step towards me, knelt to me also, and paid 
 me the same act of homage. I had never felt so 
 strange in my whole life. My English instinct was 
 to say, " Oh ! get up ! Please don't do that again," 
 but when I saw that one by one all the principal 
 servants came forward, and repeated the graceful act, 
 I perceived that it was but the usual custom of the 
 
A CHILDLESS WIDOW 157 
 
 house, and realised that if I meant to live amicably 
 and peaceably with these people I must try to intro- 
 duce no innovations, but must tako my cue entirely 
 from the manners and customs of the stately and 
 dignified chatelaine of Ischelstein. 
 
 The little ceremony of home-coming over, the prin- 
 cess took me herself to the suite of apartments which 
 she had ordered to be prepared for my reception. " I 
 have put you in a suite of rooms quite near to mine," 
 she said to me. " Not her rooms — those I could not 
 give up even to you, but they are quite near both to 
 hers and to mine. See, this is your boudoir — your own 
 private room, into which nobody will come without 
 your express invitation." 
 
 " Excepting yourself, dear Princess," I broke out. 
 
 " Ah, my dear, I shall hope to come here very often, 
 but, at the same time, you must remember that I have 
 my sanctuary in my child's favourite apartment. 
 This shall be your sanctuary, and the more you ask 
 me to come to it, the more assured I shall be that I 
 have beeu able to bring some measure of happiness 
 and comfort into your young life. This," she said, 
 opening a door, " is your dressing-room, and this your 
 bed-chamber, and that room beyond it is a chamber 
 for your ayah." 
 
 As she spoke, she led the way into the cosy little 
 room. " She will be very warm here. See, she has 
 only to turn that stove on or off to make the room as 
 warm or as cool as she likes. Do you think, Dorothy," 
 she went on, as if she were anxious to say as little 
 about my surroundings as possible, " that your ayah 
 will prefer to remain with you for the present ? " 
 
 " I think so," I answered. " She is like her 
 mistress, a lonely soul. She has no near relations, 
 and of her distant kinsfolk she knows little, and 
 
158 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 cares to know less. I think that all the affection 
 of her life was lavished upon my little Frances. If 
 she wanted to go back to India I would send her 
 back at once, but until she expresses a desire, or 
 until you plainly ask me to send her away, I would 
 like to keep her. She is the last link with my past. 
 She understands my Indian ways, she understands 
 me. I have nobody in all the world except poor 
 Ayah who can talk to me of the happy days that 
 will never come back again. I have nobody else in 
 all the world excepting you, Princess, from whom I 
 can hope to receive any joy and comfort in the time 
 to come. You are very wide apart, you two — the 
 poor, ignorant, superstitious native woman, and the 
 high-born, powerful, rich, noble lady." 
 
 " And yet," said the princess, putting her arms 
 round me, and holding me very close to her, " and 
 yet, Dorothy, in spite of the difference between us, 
 we have one great bond in common — we are three 
 desolate women." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 IN A GILDED CAGE 
 
 After this there seemed to be nothing for me to do 
 but to sit down and try to get used to my new life. 
 As circumstances had fallen out, it was of course 
 more merciful for me that I was taken away from all 
 connection with my past and set down in a totally 
 new existence. Everything was so strange and so new 
 — the routine of every-day life and food, the hours, 
 the atmosphere, the religion were all alike unfamiliar. 
 Somehow, I never felt as if it were really I, Dorothy 
 Hamlyn, who occupied that stately suite of apart- 
 ments overlooking some of the most wonderful 
 scenery in one of the most picturesque districts in 
 Europe. I never felt as if I were myself. Looking 
 back, I do not think that I grieved very much. 1 
 have an idea that I was too much deadened, too be- 
 numbed by my losses and by the extraordinary lift- 
 ing of myself out of the life that had been mine, to 
 really feel the grief which most loving wives feel for 
 the loss of true and devoted husbands. I used to 
 walk and move and eat and sleep as if I were in 
 some strange dream from which, by-and-by, I should 
 wake and say, " Oh, Eddy, I have had the most 
 curious dream I ever had in my life ! I have been 
 in a strange world, a new life, and you were not 
 there ! " 
 
 Then again, at times the fancy would come over 
 
 159 
 
160 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 me that there had never been that Indian past, that 
 it was but a dream-time conjured up out of my own 
 imagination. A curious sensation that I had always 
 lived at Ischelstein, that I had always been the 
 Princess Barzadiev's daughter, used to possess me ; 
 and yet I had never seen her son, and I was called 
 Dorothy Hamlyn. I do not think that I was mad 
 at that time, but I do think and believe that my 
 brain was so dazed and so bewildered, so benumbed 
 with what I had gone through, by the losses I had 
 sustained, that it had lost the power of working in 
 an ordinary manner. And yet, from time to time, 
 there came upon me a full realisation of all my sad 
 and yet my happy past. There was a sheaf of Eng- 
 lish papers locked away in the drawer of a wonderful 
 oaken bureau, to which I sometimes turned that I 
 might satisfy myself beyond all shadow of doubt 
 that there had been a husband, that there had been 
 a little child, that there had been a past, that the 
 past was over, and the husband and the child were 
 gone, and then I seemed to realise that there was 
 no doubt about it. There, in plain English, in the 
 curt and cruel language of an official and telegraphic 
 despatch, was to be read the indisputable news of 
 my husband's death. It came under the heading 
 of "The Bhozar Expedition," and said: "Captain 
 Hamlyn died of his wounds at daybreak yester- 
 day." 
 
 In the last paper of all I had found, some days 
 after I had reached Ischelstein, an announcement 
 which the princess and I had overlooked on first 
 receiving the sheaf of newspapers. " We regret to 
 say," the paragraph ran, " that Lord Clovelly, whose 
 son, the Honourable Edward Hamlyn, was in the 
 Bhozar expedition, was seized with a stroke of 
 
IN A GILDED CAGE 161 
 
 paralysis on receiving the news, and expired last 
 evening, aged sixty-three years." 
 
 So my last link with my husband's people was 
 broken. Lord Clovelly had been the only one of all 
 Eddy's family who had in any way maintained a 
 clear and open mind about me, with the exception, 
 of course, of the dear boy — Eddy's namesake and 
 great chum. I had had it in my mind that I would 
 write to Lord Clovelly and tell him of my grief and 
 of my sorrow at his great loss, to speak of my affec- 
 tion for his son, and ask for details of his death, 
 so far as he might know them. That paragraph, of 
 course, put an end to that intention. There was no 
 other member of Eddy's family to whom I cared to 
 write ; indeed, my strongest desire in my bitter hour 
 of sorrow was to sever myself absolutely and com- 
 pletely both from them and from every other 
 reminder of the past — especially from them. With 
 the exception of the late lord, all Eddy's people had 
 practically ignored me as a wife ; as a widow, I 
 would henceforth ignore them. Apart from this 
 resentful motive, I had an almost morbid wish to 
 keep my grief to myself, to share it with no one, 
 and nothing but the most urgent reasons would have 
 induced me to write about my loss to anyone — least 
 of all to Eddy's mother or sisters. 
 
 As soon as we had settled down at Ischelstein, the 
 princess had ordered for my benefit a full supply of 
 English newspapers and periodicals. For myself, I 
 would almost rather not have had them, for they were 
 but so much more pain and grief to me, and per- 
 sonally they gave me no pleasure, for there was no 
 news in them which had any interest for me. With 
 Indian papers it would have been different. Still, it 
 seemed so ungracious to want anything different to 
 
 I 
 
162 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 what she provided that I said nothing, and used to 
 scan them over when she happened to be in the room 
 which we most frequently used, just that she might 
 see that I was apparently interested and pleased by 
 the attention which she had shown me in having 
 ordered them. 
 
 I suppose that a couple of months had gone by 
 since our return to Ischel stein when, on looking over 
 the Times one day, I caught sight of the name of 
 Hamlyn. It was but one of the ordinary announce- 
 ments from the Gazette. This particular paragraph 
 ran: "23rd Dragoons. Sub-Lieutenant Alaric St 
 Lester to be Lieutenant vice the Honourable Edward 
 Hamlyn, deceased." The news did not specially 
 interest me; it was but an additional pain to come 
 across any mention of the familiar name, and only 
 served to remind me again of the cruel loss I had 
 suffered. I wondered in a vague kind of manner 
 who had succeeded my husband in the regiment, 
 and who had come in for the title ; probably some 
 distant cousin whom I had never seen or heard 
 of, and should never meet in this world. Well, well, 
 I had thought once that I was a Hamlyn, too. 
 I was a Hamlyn now in nothing but my legal 
 name, and those whom I had known and those 
 with whom I had had communication were all dead 
 and gone. 
 
 I never told the princess of that last discovery. 
 She fancied, dear, sweet, angel woman that she was, 
 that I was getting over my great sorrow ; she fancied 
 that I was in a measure forgetting my sorrows, or if 
 not forgetting them, that I was at least contented in 
 my new life. How was she to know that I was wont, 
 night after night, night after night, to sit in my 
 beautiful spacious rooms going back over the past, 
 
IN A GILDED CAGE 163 
 
 wandering round and round like a bird in a cage, 
 crying like Sterne's starling, " I can't get out ! I 
 can't get out ! " and yet knowing in my own mind 
 that I had nowhere to go, nobody to whom I could 
 fly, that if I broke away from the bond of her kind- 
 ness, I had no refuge, no plans, no hope. Was ever 
 any poor girl so utterly desolate before ? I think 
 not. 
 
 Somehow, in spite of all the love and care which 
 the princess lavished upon me, the stately magnifi- 
 cence and serenity of the life at Ischelstein seemed to 
 suffocate me. I had been used to plenty of servants, 
 like all other Anglo-Indians of position, but the 
 troops of retainers and servitors at Ischelstein 
 oppressed me. There was so much pomp, so much 
 ceremony about everything that we did. If we went 
 for a drive our way led us among peasantry who 
 seemed to exist only for the purpose of giving hom- 
 age to their lady. It was wonderful to me that the 
 princess was, as her daughter had been, so remark- 
 ably simple in her personal tastes and manners, for 
 she seemed, and indeed was, a veritable autocrat, not 
 by her own will, but according to the manners and 
 customs of the people over whom she ruled. 
 
 Owing to the princess's very deep mourning and 
 my own, we were naturally extremely quiet in our 
 life ; indeed, we lived, so far as society was concerned, 
 in almost total seclusion. To me it was a life of un- 
 endurable dulness. Heaven knows I had no desire 
 for gaiety, but there were times when I would have 
 liked to have seen people who did not cringe, when 
 I would have rejoiced in stiff knees and straight backs. 
 It was the princess's natural atmosphere, this atmo- 
 sphere of homage ; to me it was purgatory. And yet, 
 what could I do ? She clung to me with desperate 
 
164 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 affection and eagerness. " Dorothy," she said to me 
 one day, " you are tired of this place. You don't like 
 Ischelstein." 
 
 " Oh, yes," I replied, not speaking quite truthfully, 
 out of sheer pity for the hunger in her sweet eyes, 
 " but it is a life that I am not quite used to, princess ; 
 it is a life to which I have not yet grown accustomed. 
 I think if I might have a saddle-horse, and ride 
 every day, that I should feel more like myself. I 
 have ridden all my life. I wonder would it be pos- 
 sible for me to get a riding-habit anywhere near 
 here ? " 
 
 " My dear child, we will send to Vienna for a tailor 
 at once." 
 
 " Oh, but that would be such a trouble. Pray don't 
 think of it," I said, choking down the but half- 
 formed wish with a self -reproachful sense of my own 
 base ingratitude. 
 
 But the hint had been good enough for her. 
 "Within a week a tailor arrived from Vienna, and 
 I was measured and fitted for several riding-habits, 
 such as would be suitable for almost any temperature. 
 
 " You should have spoken before," said the princess, 
 when I half-reproached her with humouring me too 
 much. " The horses are there doing nothing. What 
 is one horse more or less, or a riding-habit or two, if they 
 will make you happier ? It is a very simple matter. 
 I have spoken to them in the stables, and I find that 
 there are two English horses broken to carry a lady. 
 They are at your disposal from this moment. " 
 
 So I found a new distraction in my life, and for a few 
 weeks I was vastly benefited thereby ; but even horse 
 exercise did not fill the awful want and gap in my 
 life. No, I rode here and there through the lovely 
 scenery, over the great estate, into the neighbouring 
 
IN A GILDED CAGE lfi5 
 
 towns, sometimes followed by a groom, and sometimes 
 I even ventured to go by myself. But I was not 
 much the better for it. I was pining for my old 
 life, pining for those I had lost, yearning for my 
 freedom, the freedom that would have been no use 
 to me. 
 
 " You will be more happy when Louis comes home," 
 said the princess one day to me. I had not grumbled ; 
 I suppose that I was looking a little dismal, or shall 
 I say a little more dismal than usual. I know that I 
 was feeling more dejected and more lonely and for- 
 saken than I had ever felt in all my life before. 
 " You will be better when Louis comes. He will not 
 be long now," the princess went on. " I heard from 
 him this morning while you were out. He sails from 
 Cape Town to-day." 
 
 Yet I had no especial interest in this Louis of whom 
 she spoke so often, and of whom she had such great 
 hopes. You see, I had never known anything of 
 foreign races ; all the men that I had known in India 
 had been Englishmen of the same class, soldiers and 
 high officials, and the men whom I had seen in and 
 around Ischelstein did not commend themselves to me 
 by comparison with those to whom I had been used 
 aforetime. I had an idea that Prince Barzadiev would 
 be like all the others that I had seen, with his hair 
 standing up on end like a blacking brush, with a fierce 
 moustache trained to a hideous spike standing out 
 three or four inches on either side of his face, with 
 square toes and high heels and a wide black silk scarf 
 tied in a bunch at his throat. They were so different 
 to the class of men whom I had known before ; they 
 seemed to do everything less well. They were very 
 polite, polite indeed to a servile degree, but I missed 
 the frank look, the pleasant, free intercourse, the 
 
166 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 curious air of distinction, which characterise the voice 
 and manners of your real English gentleman. In 
 truth, I did not look forward with any anticipation 
 of pleasure to the home-coming of Prince Barzadiev. 
 Indeed, I scarcely felt pleased when the princess told 
 me that the ways of the house would of necessity be 
 much changed with his arrival. 
 
 " It is six months now," she said, " since our great 
 loss, and although we shall not go in for entertaining — 
 not as we are in the habit of doing when my son is 
 at home — he will have many guests here for the hunting 
 and shooting. It will certainly make life more varied 
 for you — less dull, less monotonous. Oh, yes, it will 
 be very different when Louis comes." 
 
 Of course, I had no idea of what she was accus- 
 tomed to think as ordinary entertaining, but it seemed 
 to me that the preparations for the prince's home- 
 coming were of the most troublesome and lavish de- 
 scription. The whole place assumed an atmosphere 
 of bustle and expectation ; and that, in itself, was to 
 a certain extent exhilarating to one who was as 
 thoroughly bored and depressed by her surroundings 
 as I was. 
 
 Not a little to my surprise I found that the 
 princess's wish and her orders were chiefly that there 
 should be as little of sadness as possible in her son's 
 home-coming. " They were always such friends, 
 Louis and my angel," she said to me, when I gave 
 some hint of my surprise. "It is bad enough for 
 him to come home and find her absent, to find her 
 gone. He has had his grief; it is useless to try to 
 re-open a wound which must be a wound always to 
 both of us. 1 wish everything to be as bright as 
 possible, that he may feel joy in his return rather 
 than a sadness which can do no good to anyone. 
 
IN A GILDED CAGE 167 
 
 That is why I am making such festive preparations. 
 You noticed when we came home in the first flush 
 of our grief that the people uttered no shouts of 
 welcome. You do not understand yet, my dear, 
 the difference between a welcome and a reception. 
 When I heard all our people murmur as they first 
 saw me, I felt as if my heart would break. I do 
 not want Louis to feel that. I want him to feel 
 that he is coming home only — that is, coming to a 
 home, not to an open grave." 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 LOUIS BARZADIEV 
 
 What struck me the most of anything in connection 
 with the home-coming of Prince Barzadiev was the 
 extraordinary self-control which the princess put 
 upon herself. As the day and hour of his arrival 
 drew near her excitement became intense, painfully 
 so. She was not like the busy house-mother who 
 has to make sure, of her own knowledge, that every 
 preparation is complete for the welcome home of a 
 dear child ; she had but to issue her orders that such 
 and such things should be done, and she might have 
 been as positive that they would be carried out as if 
 she had merely ordered a pound of tea at a shop. 
 Yet she was not satisfied to leave everything to her 
 people. All that day she wandered in and out, 
 restlessly and with apparent aimlessness. At least 
 twenty times did she go into her son's rooms to 
 make quite sure that nothing was wanting that he 
 was likely to require. 
 
 " You have seen Louis's rooms ? " she said to me, 
 at last. 
 
 " No, I have not seen them," I answered. 
 
 " Come, then, with me ; perhaps there may be 
 something that you will be able to suggest," she 
 said eagerly. 
 
 158 
 
LOUIS BARZADIEV 169 
 
 I knew quite well that I could make no sugges- 
 tions, that she knew her son's tastes better than 
 anybody in all that great establishment, that I, a 
 total stranger, could not be of the slightest service 
 to her in this especial way ; but I went willingly, 
 for it was plain to see how painfully anxious and 
 excited she had become. 
 
 The prince's rooms were just like any other suite 
 of apartments in the castle — large, airy chambers, 
 furnished with the same attention as all the others. 
 They were decked with flowers, and all the casements 
 were set open to the lovely August air. I was most 
 of anything struck by the fact that the view from 
 the windows was perhaps the least beautiful of any 
 that I had as yet seen from the castle. " These are 
 not the nicest rooms in the house, princess," I said 
 to her. 
 
 " No, you are quite right, Dorothy, they are not ; 
 but Louis chose them when he was twelve years old. 
 He used to have your rooms. He took a fancy to 
 this suite, I could never tell why, and he would 
 never change them. They have remained almost 
 unaltered." 
 
 "Is your son like Princess Elisabeth?" I asked, 
 standing in the middle of the sitting-room and 
 looking about me with some curiosity. 
 
 " Oh, no, not the least like Elisabeth. He is like 
 his father; Elisabeth resembled my people. You 
 will think it strange that I have no portrait of my 
 son, but he has never been taken in his life ; that is 
 one of his little fads. He has promised to be taken, 
 that is to say, he has promised to have his portrait 
 painted as soon as he is home again, just to add to 
 the portrait gallery — for no other reason. He has 
 never been photograped. We could never induce 
 
]70 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 him to be taken. Since quite a little boy he has 
 had the greatest repugnance to any suggestion of 
 the kind. I think," she went on, "if there were 
 not so long: a line of Barzadievs behind him that he 
 would not consent to have his portrait painted, even 
 for his family picture gallery. His is a singularly 
 unassuming character ; nobody would ever think he 
 was the head of such an important house as the 
 family of Barzadiev." 
 
 I do not know that the princess's words gave me 
 any real reason to think so, but in a moment my 
 mind conceived the picture of a man of extraordinary 
 ugliness. I went out of his apartments with an idea 
 firmly fixed in my mind that the prince was probably 
 one of the ugliest men in the world, and therefore I 
 was prepared to find him such when the actual hour 
 of his arrival drew near. 
 
 In one sense his home-coming was less picturesque 
 than ours had been. We had arrived late in the 
 evening, to be received with torches and blazing 
 lights on every hand ; he came in the soft, mellow 
 light of a waning August afternoon. We had come 
 in closed carriages, while he came driving an English 
 coach and four. 
 
 "They are come. Let us go out to meet them, 
 Dorothy," the princess cried, holding out her hand 
 to me. I would have drawn back so as to leave the 
 mother and son to meet alone, but there was evidently 
 no such idea in her mind, and I had, of course, no 
 choice but to go with her as she wished. 
 
 We reached the great courtyard as the coach swept 
 in under the huge archway leading to the quadrangle. 
 A moment later the four coal-black horses had drawn 
 up with a great clatter and dash, and the prince had 
 swung himself down to the ground. 
 
LOUIS BARZADIEV 171 
 
 " My boy ! " the princess exclaimed. " My dear 
 Louis ! " 
 
 1 liked him the first moment I saw him. There 
 was nothing stiff or stately about him ; he was quite 
 different to his mother. He caught her in his arms 
 exactly as an Englishman would have done, and 
 kissed her at least a dozen times, held her away the 
 better to see her, then caught her to him and kissed 
 her again. Then he seemed to remember that there 
 was a face near which he had not seen before. 
 
 " And this, I suppose, is Mrs Hamlyn ! " he said, 
 turning to me and speaking in extremely good 
 English. 
 
 " Yes, this is Mrs Hamlyn — my dear Dorothy," said 
 the princess, taking my hand again. 
 
 The prince uncovered his head. " Mrs Hamlyn," 
 he said, taking my hand and then raising it to his 
 lips, " I am indeed delighted to meet you. I have 
 heard something of the great debt which my mother 
 owes to you ; it shall be my endeavour to return your 
 kindness so far as it is possible for me to do so." 
 
 " Nay," I said, choking down a great lump which 
 rose in my throat, " the princess owes me nothing. 
 The debt is all upon my side. You do not understand, 
 prince, all that your mother has done for me." 
 
 He lifted my hand to his lips again. " We will 
 agree to differ, Mrs Hamlyn," he said, with a very fine 
 air of courtesy. 
 
 He turned with a singularly polite gesture and 
 drew us both together, as it were, into the house. 
 And then there followed one of those stately, half- 
 ceremonious scenes such as had greeted us on our 
 arrival. To him it was evidently, as to his mother, 
 the habit of their everyday life that their servants 
 should treat them in this semi-royal fashion, but 
 
172 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 to me, accustomed even as I was to the courtesies of 
 Indian existence, it seemed curious to watch all the 
 bowing and scraping, which was evidently nothing 
 out of the common with them. 
 
 I had the opportunity while this was going on of 
 seeing what my hostess's son was like. He was not 
 at all like what my fancy had painted. I had pre- 
 judged him by the pattern of the men that I had 
 seen since my sojourn at Ischelstein ; but, in truth, he 
 was very different to any of these. In height he was 
 tall, and in figure he was as English-looking as any of 
 the men to whom I had been accustomed. His hair, 
 certainly, was cut quite close to his head ; but it grew 
 in a peak, and was of a rich, ruddy brown. His eyes 
 matched it in colour and were brilliant, his nose was 
 straight and inclined to haughtiness, his mouth a 
 genuine Hapsburg, with the moustache small and 
 carefully trained away from the lips. It was a face, 
 head and figure of great power — I mean of great 
 physical power. In years I thought he might be 
 two-and-thirty ; indeed, I found afterwards that 
 that was exactly his age. He was dressed quite 
 in the English country gentleman's fashion, and 
 beyond the cropped head, had nothing whatever 
 of the foreigner in his appearance. He wore one 
 or two heavy rings, and a little pearl pin in his 
 tie — a single pearl, such as you frequently see 
 Englishmen wear. Instinctively I contrasted him 
 with the man who had been my beau ideal of 
 manly perfection. I did not wonder that the 
 princess was proud of him and devoted to him. 
 He attracted me and he repelled me ; he had 
 the manners of a prince and a something which 
 told me that he might, under some circumstances, 
 be a brute. He struck me as having inordinate 
 
LOUIS BARZADISV 173 
 
 pride and extreme simplicity in an equally large 
 degree. It seemed to me that he was a man 
 capable of enormous depth of feeling, with a 
 something of cruelty where his wishes were 
 directly thwarted. He was the first man of 
 quality that I had seen since I had parted from 
 my dear love in far-away India, and by compari- 
 son with his memory he suffered in every degree. 
 I was almost sorry that he had come home, and 
 yet my dear princess looked at least a dozen 
 years younger from the mere fact that he had 
 come. 
 
 That evening we passed alone, just we three. 
 We dined together precisely in the same style 
 to which she and I had been accustomed since 
 our first coming to Ischelstein. There might have 
 been one or two more servants waiting ; but that 
 was all the difference that was made. Then we 
 adjourned from the great dining - hall to the 
 princess's favourite room, and passed the even- 
 ing quietly together. 
 
 " You sing, Mrs Hamlyn ? " the prince inquired. 
 I shook my head half-deprecatingly, but the 
 princess made answer for me. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Louis, she sings delightfully. She 
 sang untiringly to Elisabeth during those last 
 days. It was the greatest joy and comfort to 
 her. Do sing to us, Dorothy ? " 
 
 I could not very well refuse. I told him that 
 I had never had the opportunity of learning to 
 sing very well ; that I had been all my life in 
 India, and that I was by no means proud of 
 myself in respect of that accomplishment. " I 
 do many things much better than I sing," I said 
 to him. 
 
174 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 He laughed good - naturedly. " Mrs Hamlyn," 
 he said, " supposing that you let me hear this 
 poor singing of yours and leave me to judge 
 for myself. I am sure that anything you do 
 you must do well. I have heard already what 
 a wonderful horse-woman you are." 
 
 " And who told you that ? " asked the princess. 
 
 "Ah, I heard it. It was the first news that 
 greeted me — that the English lady rode every 
 day, and — well, my informant did not say like 
 a centaur, but something as nearly equivalent to 
 that as you would expect from a person who 
 does not know the meaning of the word." 
 
 " I suppose Sigismund told you ? " said the 
 princess. 
 
 " Yes, it was Sigismund. He has a great ad- 
 miration for you, Mrs Hamlyn." 
 
 " I am sure I ought to feel very much flattered," 
 I remarked smilingly. " I have thought sometimes 
 that Sigismund had a very poor opinion of my 
 powers." 
 
 "You are quite mistaken there, of that I can 
 assure you. But we will not let Sigismund's 
 opinion for or against your powers of horseman- 
 ship interfere with your singing." 
 
 I saw that there was no getting out of it, so 
 I went to the piano and sang several songs, and 
 although I know I did not sing them really well, 
 they had the effect of drawing him across the 
 room, and of keeping him chained beside me 
 until I declared that I could not possibly sing 
 any more. 
 
 " There ! Was I not right ? Does she not sing 
 delightfully ? " the princess exclaimed. 
 
 " More than delightfully," said he, with a bow to me. 
 
LOUIS BAEZADIEV 175 
 
 When we parted later on for the night, he took my 
 hand and raised it to his lips. " Mrs Hamlyn," he 
 said, " I offer you my homage." 
 
 I bade him good-night almost curtly and went 
 hurriedly to my own apartments. I can hardly say 
 or express what I felt. I did not think that he 
 admired me particularly; he had done nothing, said 
 nothing, looked nothing but what was in strict 
 accordance with the usual florid politeness of his 
 race, and yet I had a feeling for the first time that 
 my widowhood had been assailed, my loneliness 
 intruded on. I had for the first time a feeling that 
 I was no longer a thing apart from other men, 
 sanctified by grief from all approach to those famili- 
 arities and tendernesses which are the foi'erunners of 
 affairs of the heart. 
 
 I did not seek my bed for hours, but sat up think- 
 ing of my dear lost love, weeping and longing and 
 yearning for what no time could ever restore, and 
 in the morning I made my toilet with such a white 
 face, and with eyes set in great purple circles, so 
 that the moment the princess saw me, she uttered 
 an exclamation of surprise and dismay. " Dorothy, 
 my dear ! " she exclaimed, " you are ill ? " 
 
 " I am not very well to-day, dear Princess," I 
 replied. 
 
 " But why ? What has happened ? Yesterday 
 you were looking so charming, so unlike this." 
 
 " Yes. I — I did not sleep. I do not always sleep," 
 I said to her. " Don't say anything about it. I shall 
 be better by-and-by." 
 
 What else could I say ? Could I tell this fond 
 mother, so rejoiced in the return home of her only 
 child, that the very sight of another man had brought 
 back my own loss to me with ten-fold force ? No, I 
 
176 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 could only toy with my breakfast, pretend to eat 
 and drink, pretend to talk and take a deep interest in 
 the e very-day life around me, and feel that I had 
 gone back a step, not so much that I had been foolish, 
 but that I was in reality less grown accustomed to 
 my great loss than I had had any idea of. 
 
 " You ought to go for a ride," said the princess. 
 " You know, Dorothy, that a ride always takes away 
 your headaches when they come." 
 
 " I do not care to ride to-day, Princess," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 The prince broke in eagerly. " Mrs Hamlyn," 
 he said, " I was on the point of asking you if you 
 would honour me by letting me ride with you this 
 morning ? I think you told me, Mother," he said, 
 turning to the princess, "that you wished me to 
 drive with you this afternoon. We have a little 
 pilgrimage to make," he added, turning again to me. 
 " You will go with us, of course ? " 
 
 " No," I said, realising that they meant to go to- 
 gether to hear a Mass for the repose of the Princess 
 Elisabeth's soul, " I would rather not." 
 
 " I think, Dorothy," said she " that if anybody has 
 the right to make such a pilgrimage in our company, 
 it is you." 
 
 " I would rather waive that right," I replied. " I 
 am not feeling very well. I do not think that I 
 could bear it. I should be happier knowing that 
 you and your son were alone at such a time. Please, 
 do not ask me to go with you." I saw that the prince 
 was about to speak, to speak with some eagerness. 
 I turned from the princess to him. " You know, 
 Prince," I said, " it is not quite an unselfish wish of 
 mine. I, like you and the princess, have had my 
 troubles since she and I first met. I have not yet, 
 
LOUIS BARZADIEV 177 
 
 in any sense, got over them, or ceased to feel them. 
 It would be most painful for me to go to the chapel 
 with you this afternoon. I must beg you to excuse 
 me, and to let me stay here by myself. If I were 
 of your religion," I went on, " I would go as one of 
 my dearest duties to pray with you for the soul of 
 her whom you mourn." 
 
 He looked at his mother. " It must be as Mrs 
 Hamlyn says, as she feels most inclined," he said in 
 a gentle undertone. 
 
 " Yes. But do you take her out this morning 
 with you, Louis. It would be good for her. I have 
 seen her look like this before, and it always distresses 
 me terribly. My dear, I know that you will enjoy 
 a ride ; you have ridden so often quite alone, when 
 I have felt, oh, so sad, to see you start out by your- 
 self, or with only a groom. It will be a pleasure 
 to Louis to accompany you, and a pleasure to me 
 to know that you are gone with a suitable companion. 
 So, say that you will go." 
 
 Of course I had to go, in that I had practically 
 no choice, and Prince Barzadiev and I, less than an 
 hour afterwards, rode away out of the quadrangle 
 together. 
 
 M 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 A CASUAL QUESTION 
 
 After the return of Prince Barzadiev, life at 
 Ischelstein became quite different to the monotonous 
 and stately existence which the princess and I had 
 passed together since our return from Florestella. 
 In one way it was very different to what the 
 princess had led me to expect. I had gathered from 
 her that her son was entirely devoted to every 
 description of sport ; I found him a regular stay-at- 
 home. She had told me that they would not be 
 entertaining largely, on account of their still deep 
 mourning, and therein her prognostication was justi- 
 fied by the events which followed it; but she had 
 also led me to understand that her son would have 
 many men visitors for the hunting and shooting. I 
 found them conspicuous by their absence. I think 
 during the whole of that autumn that only three of 
 the prince's intimate friends came to stay at the 
 castle, nor did they come for very long visits. The 
 prince himself both hunted and shot with tolerable 
 regularity ; but when his mother from time to time 
 sounded him as to his intention of including his 
 friends in his expeditions, he always put her off with 
 a carelessness which, while it completely deceived 
 her, revealed to ine much of what was passing in 
 his mind. 
 
 178 
 
A CASUAL QUESTION 179 
 
 " Is Loris de Malkoff coming to you this autumn, 
 Louis ? " the princess asked of him one day. 
 
 " I don't think so. I have not asked him." 
 
 "But he always comes at some time during the 
 autumn." 
 
 " Well, I have not seen him ; I have not heard 
 of him or from him since I came home," the prince 
 replied. 
 
 " But don't you intend to ask him ? " 
 
 " No, I don't think so." 
 
 " Don't you intend to have anybody here for the 
 shooting?" she asked, in a tone of much astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " I don't think so ; at least, not more than one or 
 two," he said. " Colonel Wyndham is coming for 
 a few days." 
 
 " Colonel Wyndham ? He is English 1 " 
 
 I listened intently. I, too, had caught the sound 
 jf the familiar English name, and my heart came 
 into my mouth, and my blood began to dance from 
 sheer excitement at the prospect of once more seeing 
 one of my own countrymen. 
 
 " Yes. He is one of the military attaches at 
 the British Embassy," the prince replied. "I met 
 him at the Archduke's last year. A very fine shot, 
 a very handsome man, quite the best type of English- 
 man that I have ever met with." 
 
 It would have seemed curious, no doubt, to this 
 mother and son, but a spasm of resentment shot 
 through me. Why, they spoke of Englishmen 
 as if to find a good specimen of the race were 
 an unusual and rare occurrence ! I forgot for a 
 moment that it was more than probable that they 
 regarded our men very much as I regarded theirs, on 
 the whole unfavourably. 
 
180 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 "And who else is coming, Louis?" the princess 
 went on, dear soul, knowing nothing of the tumult 
 raging in my breast. 
 
 " A man I met out in Swaziland," he replied, " a 
 man called De Windt." 
 
 " And who is he ? " the princess asked. 
 
 " He was out there on very much the same errand 
 as myself. We chummed up, rather." 
 
 " Chummed up ? " said the princess. " Does that 
 mean — What does that mean, Louis ? " 
 
 I could not help laughing, and the laugh perhaps 
 saved me from any further feeling of resent- 
 ment. 
 
 "Mrs Hamlyn can tell you," said the prince, 
 smiling. 
 
 " It means," I said to the princess, " that they 
 became comrades quickly and perhaps on little 
 grounds, that they became intimate in quite a short 
 time." 
 
 " Oh ! I see. I never heard the term before, it 
 is very curious. ' Chummed up.' Can we be said to 
 have chummed up, Dorothy ? " 
 
 " We could," I replied ; " but I don't think any- 
 body would be likely to use that term for us. It is 
 almost exclusively a man's term, or for very young 
 girls inclining to what we call slanginess." 
 
 " Oh. I see. Yes. Then we chummed up, but we 
 do not call it chumming up, eh ? " 
 
 •' Precisely so, Princess," I replied. 
 
 "And we," said the prince, in an undertone, as 
 his mother rose from the table ; " we have never 
 in any sense chummed up, Mrs Hamlyn." 
 
 " No, Prince," I replied ; " somehow, I don't think 
 that we have ever quite done that." 
 
 Little incidents like these were always happening. 
 

 A CASUAL QUESTION 181 
 
 I don't know how it was that the prince and I 
 failed somehow to hit it off with each other. We 
 went about a great deal together, because the 
 princess would have it so. She would have me ride 
 with her son, and many and many a time did I 
 bitterly regret .that I had ever mentioned riding 
 as a favourite exercise of mine, but we never be- 
 came intimate. For one thing, I had always in 
 my mind the sense of belonging to somebody else, 
 the sense of my widowhood, the feeling that al- 
 though my husband was dead, gone quite beyond 
 recall, yet that I belonged to him still. I had 
 also always the sense that although I was living 
 under Prince Barzadiev's roof, in a measure sharing 
 his life, eating his bread — or his mother's, for, 
 after all, what difference was there between the 
 two ? — yet that he was not satisfied with things 
 as they were, that left to himself he would have 
 placed our intercourse upon a totally different 
 footing to the plane upon which his mother and I 
 had first placed it. 
 
 I don't quite know how the knowledge first came 
 to me that this man loved me, yet before the season 
 of Christmas had come I did know it ; and I knew it 
 with a certainty which left my mind in no possible 
 manner of doubt. I knew that I could have married 
 him at any time, and, indeed, that he was only kept 
 from proposing to me by my attitude towards him. 
 It was an exceedingly difficult situation for me, 
 because I had no possible reason, having once per- 
 mitted myself to take the position of the princess's 
 adopted daughter, for being on other than intimate 
 terms with her son. I was not prepared to go out 
 into the world, to renounce my good friend, for I 
 had nowhere to go, nobody to whom to turn, and I 
 
182 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 would not have wounded the princess's feelings for 
 any consideration; so that I could only trust to a 
 certain reserve and frigidity of manner, both wholly 
 unnatural to me, for staving off a crisis which 
 seemed to be inevitable. And yet I was most 
 anxious not in any sense to wound the feelings 
 of my good friend and protector by seeming 
 to slight her son when we three were together. 
 So there grew somehow to be two Dorothy Ham- 
 lyns, one who talked, and laughed, and sang, and 
 played, and tried to put off all the pain and the 
 sadness of life — the Dorothy Hamlyn that might be 
 called the home-bird — and there was another one 
 who rode and walked and lived an out-door life 
 with a chill air of stiffness and reserve which was 
 wholly at variance with the manner and appearance 
 of that other one. The princess never knew the 
 outdoors Dorothy Hamlyn, and, except in his mother's 
 presence, the prince never knew the domestic 
 creature of the same name. 
 
 Once, indeed, he spoke to me about it. " Why," he 
 asked, " are you so different indoors and out-of-doors? " 
 
 " I do not know that I am," I replied, which was 
 absolutely untrue. 
 
 " Oh, but you are,' he declared. " When you are 
 out with me nobody would know you for the same 
 bright and winsome companion whom I find in my 
 mother's boudoir. Why should you be so different to 
 her and to me ? " 
 
 " Because," I said quickly, " I feel very differently 
 towards you." 
 
 " But why do you feel differently ? Have I ever, 
 since I returned home, done anything to offend you, 
 Mrs Hamlyn ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, prince, not the least in the world ; but," 
 
A CASUAL QUESTION 183 
 
 I Baid, with a sigh, " I make an effort for your 
 mother's sake to put aside all my own griefs and my 
 own sorrows ; I do not make the same effort for you." 
 
 " I wish that you would," he said wistfully. 
 
 I felt that only by the greatest caution and care on 
 my part should I avoid a declaration there and then. 
 " Prince," I said, " I feel that I am going to say some- 
 thing which you may think ungracious. I live in the 
 past ; I cannot alter myself in that way ; what you 
 ask is quite impossible." 
 
 " Were you then so fond of him ? " he said, scarcely 
 above a whisper. 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " I was something more than fond 
 of him. I adored my husband. I cannot be gay 
 except to make an effort for one who has been through 
 terrible trouble, and who has always been most good 
 to me." 
 
 For some little time he rode on in absolute silence. 
 Then he suddenly leaned over and put his hand upon 
 my horse's neck. " Mrs Hamlyn," he said, " you are 
 my mother's dear friend and guest — something more 
 than that, her adopted daughter. Forgive me if I 
 have said anything that has pained you ; you know I 
 would not do so for the world. I wish for your own 
 sake that you felt your loss less bitterly ; I wish, for 
 mine, that you did not feel it at all. As things are 
 I must be content. We won't speak of this again." 
 
 I had never liked Prince Barzadiev so well as at 
 that moment. His words struck me as so full of 
 delicacy, of real chivalrous courtesy, that I looked up 
 at him and instinctively held out my hand towards 
 him. " Prince," I said, " we cannot help our hearts, 
 we women." 
 
 "Which is why we men love you so," was his 
 rejoinder. 
 
184 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 We o-ot on much more happily after that. I think 
 he expected less, and perhaps I gave more; at all 
 events, our intercourse when we were alone together 
 was less constrained, more — to use that slang phrase 
 which had sounded so odd upon the princess's lips- 
 more chummy ; in fact, even the priocess noticed 
 
 it- 
 
 " You are good friends with my son, Dorothy ? " 
 
 she said to me one day, with a curious wistful expres- 
 sion upon her delicate face. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Princess." 
 
 " You like him ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, certainly, very much indeed." 
 
 " He likes you." 
 
 " I hope so," was my cautious rejoinder. " I should 
 not like to think that your son disliked me." 
 
 " That was not what I meant," she said simply. 
 
 And then she turned the subject, and began to 
 speak of other things. 
 
 It was Christmas time before the promised visit of 
 Colonel Wyndham brought him to Ischelstein. Several 
 times the princess had asked news of his coming. Mr 
 de Windt had actually come and gone, and one other 
 gentleman, an Austrain nobleman, whom I liked as 
 little as I should say he liked me. 
 
 Prince Barzadiev told his mother that Colonel 
 Wyndham had gone home to England for his long 
 leave, and that he would come to Ischelstein the first 
 week that he was free to do so. 
 
 The visit eventually resolved itself into a two days' 
 affair, Colonel Wyndham giving the very reasonable 
 excuse that he could not possibly get away for a 
 longer time. I was rather surprised that they in- 
 vited no other guests to meet him, and I expressed as 
 much to Prince Barzadiev. 
 
A CASUAL QUESTION 185 
 
 " Well, we should have head other people here," he 
 answered, " but Wyndham particularly asked me to 
 let him come to us as we are in ordinary. He knows, 
 of course, that we are not actually entertaining or 
 visiting much, and he is like all other good shots, he has 
 no great love of a big shoot. And small blame to him, 
 I say, for I think a big shoot is the most terrible bore 
 in the whole world." 
 
 Evidently, then, this Colonel Wyndham wished to 
 have the entire glory of the Ischelstein shooting to 
 himself, and I don't know that I thought any less of 
 him for that. 
 
 He arrived during the afternoon, just as the 
 twilight was deepening into night. What was he 
 like ? Oh, well, the kind of man to whom I had 
 been most used in my early days — a man in the 
 very prime of life, four or five-and-thirty, a soldier 
 all over, a gentleman to the tips of his fingers, polite, 
 good to look upon, not over and above blessed with 
 intellect, perhaps, and yet endowed with no small 
 store of worldly wisdom. I had seen so many of the 
 same pattern. The first sight of his good-tempered, 
 steady face and grave contemplative blue eyes served 
 to send me back — back from this oppressively stately 
 castle, this exotic kind of existence, to the days when 
 I was Dorothy Massingham and could flirt and dance 
 and sing with the best of them. Ah, dear, dear, his 
 presence was pleasure and pain to me, but mostly 
 pain of the two sensations. 
 
 I saw but little of him during the first of the two 
 evenings that he passed with us. Their quarry was 
 brown bear, and their talk was of little else. I 
 excused myself from singing for them, and for once, 
 Prince Barzadiev was not keen on my complying 
 with his request for music. We all went to bed very 
 
186 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 early, and when the princess and I appeared in the 
 morning, the two men had been gone for hours, nor 
 did we see them again until we met at dinner. 
 
 They had been fairly successful in their bag, and 
 Colonel Wyndham was highly elated over the fact 
 that to his gun had fallen the only bear which they 
 had come across. " I feel, you know, Barzadiev," he 
 said, "that you gave me that splendid fellow. By 
 right he really belonged to you." 
 
 "Ah, that does not matter," said the prince. "I 
 wanted you to have the chance of him. When you 
 come back again to finish your visit, I will exercise 
 my full rights. As you had only the one day's sport, 
 I wanted you to have everything that there was 
 to have." 
 
 " And you will come back again % " said the 
 princess, hospitably. 
 
 " I should greatly like to do so, Princess," Colonel 
 Wyndham replied. "You see, I could not hope to 
 get more than the two days' leave just at this time, 
 and after I have been home for a long spell to 
 England, but, later on, if I have the chance, 
 and your charming invitation is renewed, I shall 
 come with the greatest of pleasure to try my luck 
 again." 
 
 " I am sure that we shall all be delighed," said the 
 princess, kindly, " and perhaps we shall have a larger 
 party to meet you." 
 
 " That has been the charm of the whole thing," 
 said Colonel Wyndham. "There are so many big 
 shoots where one is only one of a crowd, and not 
 the most important one at that," he added, with a 
 laugh. "There is nothing like being the one guest 
 for absolute enjoyment." 
 
 " I am delighted that you think so," she said, " for 
 
A CASUAL QUESTION 187 
 
 I fancied that you would find us extremely dull ; 
 but, of course, Louis knew your taste." 
 
 I did not get off quite so easily that evening as 
 I had done the evening before. Colonel Wyndham 
 was to leave on the return journey at midday, and 
 therefore was not especially anxious to go to bed in 
 good time, as he had been the previous evening. 
 
 "Mrs Hamlyn," said the prince, "you will sing 
 something for us to-night ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, don't ask me to sing. I cannot sing," I 
 replied, speaking quite under my breath. 
 
 "Dear Dorothy, do sing something," said the 
 princess. " Mrs Hamyln sings delightfully, only she 
 is so foolishly retiring about it. She will have it 
 that she is not worth listening to, and really, she 
 sings delightfully." 
 
 "Oh, Mrs Hamlyn," said Colonel Wyndham, "do 
 let us hear you." 
 
 I protested that I did not sing as a general rule, 
 that I had never had the opportunity of learning to 
 sing well, and that I much preferred not exhibiting 
 my want of proficiency in public. 
 
 " But this is not public," he said, " and I really do 
 not think the princess would ask you if it did not 
 give her pleasure. I am devoted to music. Oh, no, 
 I don't understand it the least in the world, but I 
 love to hear it. Do gratify us." 
 
 I had to do it, of course. You cannot make a fuss 
 and refuse when people will persist in asking you to 
 do some particular thing. So I went to the piano 
 and did my best. 
 
 " I do not think," said Colonel Wyndham, when I 
 had declared myself quite unable to sing any more 
 for that evening, " that you ought to tell people that 
 you cannot sing, because you sing very charmingly 
 
188 THE STRANGE STORY OP MY LIFE 
 
 and delightfully, and you give your hearers much 
 pleasure." 
 
 " If I had ever been taught singing — I mean if I 
 had ever been taught properly," I said carelessly, 
 " I should feel more assured perhaps ; but I have 
 lived all my life in India, and really have not had 
 the chance of studying music or anything else as I 
 would have wished. That is my only reason for 
 being so extremely modest about myself." 
 
 " Well, I should not tell anybody that you have 
 lived in India. And now that you are in the way 
 of really good teaching, why don't you take it up 
 and work at it for a year or so ? That would give 
 you confidence as nothing else would do. Your 
 talent is much too good to be wasted. Believe me, 
 it is so. 
 
 " Ah, that is very kind of you, Colonel Wyndham," 
 I said. " I have not felt much like studying any- 
 thing since I came to Europe, but your suggestion is 
 good. I will think it over. Princess Barzadiev loves 
 music, and it would please me if I could give her 
 more pleasure." 
 
 " I think that you would please everybody," he 
 said. And then he suddenly asked me a question 
 which served to make my very heart stand still. " I 
 suppose," he said " from your name, that you belong 
 to the Clovelly family ? " 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 TIME GOES ON 
 
 When Colonel Wyndham asked me whether I be- 
 longed to the Clovelly family, he and I were sitting 
 quite apart from the princess and her son. The 
 prince, indeed, had just left the room, and the 
 princess was at the further end of the spacious apart- 
 ment, busily occupied with some fine and delicate 
 embroidery such as her soul loved. I felt that my 
 face had blanched to the very lips, but I contrived 
 to answer him as steadily and as rationally as if 
 his words had not awakened within me a rush of 
 thrilling memories. 
 
 " My husband was Lord Clovelly's nephew," I said 
 simply. 
 
 " Oh, really ! I thought, of course, it must be the 
 same family. I never heard of any other Hamlyns." 
 
 " Did you know Lord Clovelly ? " I asked. 
 
 " No, I never met him. I knew young Bill Hamlyn, 
 of the 23rd. An awfully nice chap he was. He was 
 killed, as of course you know, out in one of those 
 Indian expeditions — let me see — the Bhozar district, 
 was it not ? " 
 
 "Yes," I replied. "And my husband fell at the 
 same time. He was in the same regiment." 
 
 " You don't say so ! Dear, dear, how very sad ! I 
 
 189 
 
190 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 had no idea that Bill Hamlyn had a cousin, not in 
 the 23rd, that is to say. Of course I only knew him 
 casually, I mean I only knew him in London, not as 
 a soldier. He was a nice young fellow. He had not 
 been out very long, had he ? " 
 
 "Oh, no, quite a short time. Do you know the 
 present Lord Clovelly ? " 
 
 "No," he said, "I don't know him at all. I have 
 been so very little in England since I have been 
 attached to our Embassy here. I fancy that it was 
 quite a distant relative who came into the title ; but 
 when one does not know a family intimately, it 
 is surprising how ignorant one is of its various 
 branches." 
 
 "And I, too," I said. "You may think it very 
 strange that I know so little of my husband's family, 
 but I was married out in India, and I never saw any 
 of them excepting his cousin, who would have been 
 Lord Clovelly if he had lived. I had to come home 
 alone, for my health and that of my little child, 
 whom I lost at Florestella just before the death of 
 the Princess Elisabeth Barzadiev. My husband was 
 coming home with me, but he was recalled for the 
 Bhozar expedition at the very moment of starting 
 from Bombay. I never saw him again, so you can 
 understand that, losing him and losing my child as 
 I did, I never cared to seek out any of the Hamlyn 
 family. After all, they knew nothing of me. I was 
 a perfect stranger to them, and I do not want to see 
 any of them. It would be too painful, too dreadful. 
 Pray, if you meet this Lord Clovelly at any time, 
 don't tell him that you came across me ; don't tell any 
 of poor Bill Hamlyn's sisters that you have seen me. 
 They take no interest in me, and the knowledge of 
 their very existence is a pain to me. If my husband 
 
TIME GOES ON 191 
 
 had lived, or if even Bill Hamlyn had lived, it would 
 have been different. He was my good friend, my 
 husband's dearest chum. They are both gone, and 
 all the happiness of my life went with them. You 
 understand me ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, Mrs Hamlyn, I understand you per- 
 fectly." 
 
 "Don't talk about them to the Barzadievs. They 
 do not understand — at least, they have troubles of 
 their own. The princess has been an angel to me. 
 If I were to live for a thousand years, I could never 
 repay all the kindness and care and love that she 
 has lavished upon me. There is nothing, or rather, 
 hardly anything in my power that I would not do 
 for the princess, but I have never talked much to 
 her of my husband ; it would seem to her if I did 
 that I was ungrateful for all that she has tried to 
 do to keep me from pining for my old life. So please 
 do not speak of the Clovelly family or of my past 
 to them, either now, or if you chance to be here 
 again." 
 
 " I will do exactly as you wish," he said. " I quite 
 understand you. You are intending to remain here, 
 Mrs Hamlyn ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I suppose so. The princess chooses to 
 look upon me as her adopted daughter." 
 
 "You may become her daughter in reality," he 
 said, half hesitatingly. 
 
 "I think not — I think not. Please don't suggest 
 such a thing ; don't keep such an idea in your mind. 
 My loss is so recent, my grief so new, that even 
 the sight of an Englishman, such an Englishman 
 as those to whom I have been all my life accus- 
 tomed, the very knowledge that an English soldier 
 has been under the same roof with me for a few 
 
192 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 hours, has brought all the past back with a pain 
 that is absolute agony. Of course, it is natural 
 that you should think certain events might happen, 
 but if you knew how the bare idea of it hurts 
 me you would never think of it again. There, 
 please don't say any more, the prince is coming 
 back." 
 
 As the prince crossed the room towards us, Colonel 
 Wyndham changed the conversation with an ease and 
 dexterity which served to put my mind quite at rest, 
 and then we three went and joined the princess at 
 the other end of the room. 
 
 Between that time and the moment of Colonel 
 Wyndham's departure at noon the following day, not 
 one word of a private or personal nature passed be- 
 tween us two, and yet, when he bade me farewell, 
 there was something in the clasp of his hand which 
 said to me as unmistakably as if he had spoken it in 
 plain words : " Don't trouble about what we were 
 speaking of last night. I quite understand you, and 
 will carry out your wishes to the letter." 
 
 I was alone in the boudoir when Prince Barzadiev 
 returned from seeing his guest off at the nearest 
 station. He came in chafing his hands together, and 
 complaining bitterly of the cold. " I am afraid that 
 Wyndham will have a terribly cold journey," he said, 
 drawing a chair to the open fire and spreading his 
 fingers to the warmth of the fierce blaze from the 
 great logs of wood piled upon the hearth. 
 
 "Yes, it does seem very cold," I replied. "I saw 
 that the dogs refused to go with you." 
 
 " Oh, they are sensible fellows. I would have 
 refused turning out for any other reason. Tell me, 
 Mrs Hamyln," he said, leaning back in his chair, 
 while two of the great hounds who had followed him 
 
TIME GOES ON 193 
 
 into the room laid a wistful head upon either knee 
 " how do you like my friend Wyndham." 
 
 " Oh, I liked him," I said indifferently. 
 
 " I thought you would like him. He is a typical 
 Englishman of the upper class." 
 
 " Yes, he looks very English," I admitted. 
 
 "You know," he said, in a shame-faced kind of 
 way, " I was half afraid of his coming here." 
 
 " But why ? " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Well, you will perhaps think me very silly, Mrs 
 Hamlyn, but I thought it was just a chance that he 
 might make you feel dissatisfied with your surround- 
 ings." 
 
 " With my surroundings ! " I said, looking round 
 the room. " How could that be ? " 
 
 " Well, he is your countryman ; he is English ; 
 he might have given you a sudden yearning to go 
 home, to go back to England, to be among English 
 people again. You know, we sometimes forget that 
 we are foreigners to you ; at least, we are apt not 
 always to remember it." 
 
 " I don't want you to remember it," I said. " No 
 compatriot on earth could have been more kind and 
 good than your mother has been to me, or, indeed, 
 than you have always been. You ought not to say 
 these things, prince ; you make me feel that I am 
 wanting in appreciation ; you hurt me." 
 
 " And that I would not do, God knows, for the 
 whole world ! " he rejoined earnestly. " It is, as I 
 say, perhaps foolish of me to feel as I did about 
 Wyndham's coming here, but when one wants a 
 thing very much one is apt to think the whole world 
 wants it likewise." 
 
 "I wish that you would not say these things to 
 me." 
 
 N 
 
194 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 " I know you do. I never meant to say it ; I never 
 meant to speak again ; but somehow the very sight of 
 your countryman, such a match for you in every way, 
 was too much for me." 
 
 " Oh, prince," I said, " don't talk nonsense. Do 
 you think we Englishwomen fancy every man we 
 meet is in love with us — fancy that every man with 
 whom we chance to stay under the same roof for a 
 couple of days is a probable or possible husband? 
 Oh, indeed, you wrong us. If I were a silly, 
 romantic young girl, I might have such ideas in 
 my head." 
 
 " You are a young girl," he persisted. 
 
 " Yes, I am young in years — only twenty years old 
 — but so old in feeling. Some people, you know, live 
 an existence, not a life ; some people go from begin- 
 ning to end of their time and they never love, they 
 never love at all ; they never know great sorrows or 
 great joys, they might almost as well never have been 
 born. But all are not like that ; and I, although I 
 am still young, have lived both in joy and sorrow till 
 I feel like an old, old woman." 
 
 " Do you think," he asked, after a moment's silence, 
 " that you will always feel the same ? " 
 
 " I think so. I don't believe when men and women 
 have passed through great storm and stress that they 
 can ever again become as placid as they were before. 
 When you once feel old, I doubt if you ever grow to 
 feel really young again." 
 
 " But don't you think," he said wistfully, " that it 
 would be very dreadful to your husband if he could 
 know that your entire life was given up to a desola- 
 tion of unavailing regret ? " 
 
 " I have never thought of that," I returned 
 simply. 
 
TIME GOES ON 195 
 
 " If he really and truly loved you," he went on, 
 "don't you think that he would rather you were 
 happy, even if you were not quite so happy as you 
 had once been, than that you should live out the rest 
 of your life practically alone ? " 
 
 " I could not imagine my husband wishing — wishing 
 me," I repeated, with a certain feeling of outraged 
 dignity, "to marry again. He was so unselfish, 
 Prince, that, if it would make me happier, I know he 
 would be the last, if he could give an opinion, to set 
 himself in the way of my attaining any measure of 
 happiness. I won't pretend that I do not know what 
 you mean. It would be foolish, and while I am as I 
 am with your mother, it will tend to make us less 
 good friends than we should otherwise be if we only 
 make-believe to understand each other in a half-and- 
 half kind of way. I thought the other day when you 
 spoke on this subject that you understood me ; that 
 you realised, not that I felt I was tied by the wishes 
 of my husband, but that I myself had no wish to alter 
 existing arrangements." 
 
 " Mrs Hamlyn," he said — " may I call you 
 Dorothy ? — I had no intention of speaking to you 
 again, because I feel that in a sense I have violated 
 the sanctity of my hospitality. Forgive me ; it is 
 only Wyndham's presence here which has made me 
 speak. Forgive me, and believe that I am moved 
 by a desire first and foremost for your happi- 
 ness." 
 
 He rose from his chair as he spoke, and so did I 
 from mine. He took my hand for a moment in his, 
 and raised it to his lips, and as he turned away he 
 trod upon one of the great hounds which was linger- 
 ing very near to him. I remember when he first 
 came home that I had thought there might be some- 
 
196 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 thing of the brute in him, yet even in what I saw 
 was a moment of deadly pain, he stopped and patted 
 the great dog on the head with a word of regret upon 
 his lips. I had never liked Prince Barzadiev so much 
 as I did at that moment. I don't know that I had 
 ever felt so sympathetic towards him, so completely 
 at home with him ; that I had ever before felt so little 
 of his nationality — I mean that I had never felt so 
 nearly as if he were indeed an Englishman. 
 
 I don't think that the princess ever suspected that 
 matters had gone as far between us as they really 
 had done. For months after that little visit of 
 Colonel Wyndham's we went on without very much 
 change in our every-day life. It was marvellous to 
 me that they did not wish to travel more, to leave 
 Ischelstein more often. More than once the princess 
 told me that for several years her son had not been at 
 home for so many months at one spell. 
 
 " Louis is very much changed," she said to me one 
 day. " He used to be always longing to roam about, 
 to travel abroad, to shoot big game, to live a life of 
 adventure and change, but since he came home this 
 time he seems to have altered, he seems to content 
 himself with such placid and domestic things in com- 
 parison with his past life." 
 
 " Perhaps he feels that he must stay more with you 
 now," I suggested. 
 
 " Now that I have not Elisabeth for a companion ? 
 Yes, perhaps that is so." 
 
 " No doubt that is it, dear princess," I said, in a 
 tone of acquiescence, although in my heart I knew 
 perfectly well that such was not the reason. 
 
 " Perhaps," said she, musingly, " he has another 
 and a different reason. Be that as it may, it is 
 delightful to me to have my son always with me, 
 
TIME GOES ON 197 
 
 even while I wonder that he does not grow tired of 
 Ischelstein." 
 
 " I wonder that you do not travel more," I said, 
 perhaps rather incautiously. 
 
 "You would like to travel more, Dorothy; you 
 would like to move about, to go to Paris — to Vienna ? 
 Well, our year of seclusion is over now, and there is 
 no reason why, if you would like to have a change, 
 my dear, that we should not take it." 
 
 " Oh, no, I did not say so ! " I cried. 
 
 " Perhaps you did not say so, but you are young 
 and change is good for young people. You have 
 never been to Vienna; you would like to see 
 it?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, if it would please you to go." 
 
 " Certainly it would please me. I shall speak to 
 Louis about it." 
 
 The result of this conversation was that we very 
 shortly left Ischelstein and took up our abode in their 
 house in Vienna. Just at first I was half reluctant 
 to undertake even so short a journey, and yet when 
 I found myself in the beautiful, bright city, where I 
 found myself in the very cream of social life, I 
 wondered how I had ever been able to support with 
 equanimity the deadly dulness of existence at Ischel- 
 stein. 
 
 I had no lack of gaiety. I went here, there and 
 everywhere, meeting Colonel Wyndham continually, 
 and, I needs must confess it, winning a great deal of 
 admiration. I was very circumspect in my behaviour, 
 however, for I gathered very early during our sojourn 
 in the gay capital that the sight of me in the world 
 of fashion was neither more nor less than torture to 
 my adopted mother's son, and as I had no wish either 
 to torture him or to give other men the impression 
 
198 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 that I was perchance for them, I shut myself up, as 
 it were, within a high wall of reserve, and never did a 
 poor nun in a convent seek less to attract the attention 
 of the other sex than I did. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE WEAVING OF THE NET 
 
 After we left Vienna, which we did rather earlier 
 than we had originally intended, owing to an uncon- 
 cealed restlessness on the part of Prince Barzadiev, 
 we went for a few weeks' cruise in the yacht 
 Kaiserin Elisabeth. 
 
 This time we were not quite the family party which 
 we had been during so long a period at Ischelstein. 
 Several intimate friends of the prince's accompanied 
 us, and also two married ladies, both Austrian, and 
 of distinguished position, and the charming young 
 daughter of one of them. 
 
 For some weeks we cruised about, starting from 
 Venice, going down the Adriatic and skirting the 
 Dalmatian coast, among the islands of the Greek 
 Archipelago and along the Bosphorus as far as Con- 
 stantinople. It is not part of my story, at least I 
 would be more correct in saying that it is not neces- 
 sary to the unfolding of my story, to give much detail 
 of the life which we lived at that time. We fared as 
 the Barzadievs were accustomed to do, with every 
 luxury that money, wealth and position could give. 
 Each day's doings partook of the nature of a picnic, 
 excepting when we were actually at sea, when we 
 
 199 
 
200 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 were entirely dependent upon the resources of the 
 yacht's company for amusement and occupation. The 
 moment we came within reach of land, our whole days 
 were occupied with excursions and sight-seeing. Each 
 evening's dinner was a banquet, and when in port 
 many visitors came to join us at that meal. After 
 dinner we had music and dancing, and in all these fes- 
 tivities I was given the honoured place of daughter 
 of the princess. I often used to think that a perfect 
 stranger coming in among us would hardly have 
 known, except by my speech, that I was not really 
 Princess Barzadiev's own daughter. It was wonderful 
 to me how she seemed to have got over the loss of 
 the Princess Elisabeth. I hinted as much to her one 
 day when we were talking together upon a kindred 
 subject. 
 
 It happened that I had been suffering for some 
 hours from a violent headache, one of those semi- 
 neuralgic, semi-nervous headaches from which I had 
 occasionally suffered during the whole of my life. 
 The rest of the party had gone off to visit some 
 ruins a few miles inland from the port in which we 
 were lying, but the princess remained with me, and 
 when, in the cool of the evening, I was relieved of 
 the pain, and was able to rise from my couch, I went 
 up on deck and joined her, where she was sitting 
 under the gaily-striped awning which protected 
 us from heat and mist alike. There we sat in 
 luxurious deck chairs, and she ministered to me 
 with fresh and fragrant tea, dainty cakes and 
 luscious fruit. 
 
 " You really are better, Dorothy ? " the princess 
 asked me anxiously. 
 
 " Oh, yes, dear Princess, my headache has quite 
 passed away now. I am only so annoyed that you 
 
THE WEAVING OF THE NET 201 
 
 should have stayed at home because of my being out 
 of sorts. You ought not to do it ; it does make me 
 feel so uncomfortable." 
 
 " My dear, I could not possibly have gone off for 
 a whole day leaving you alone and ill. After all, 
 what is a day's outing to me ? I am not like the 
 young people, who cannot bear to miss a single 
 pleasure. It has been more pleasure to me to stay 
 here with you." 
 
 " That is so good of you ! " I said gratefully. 
 " Only it makes me feel so selfish and so troublesome 
 to you." 
 
 "You would have stayed with me, would you 
 not ? " she asked, laying her hand upon mine, and 
 looking at me with her sweetest smile. 
 
 " Yes. But the case is different. I am delighted 
 to do things for you that are not necessary for you 
 to do for me. It would be most unkind if I were to 
 leave you feeling even a little dull ; but that you 
 should sacrifice yourself for me is preposterous, or 
 it seems so to my mind, at all events." 
 
 " My dear Dorothy, sometimes you talk great non- 
 sense ! " she said, smiling again, and surely she had 
 the sweetest smile in the whole world. " At all 
 events, I stayed, and I cannot undo the day's work 
 now, so it is useless to talk about it any more. You 
 are enjoying this trip, dear child ? " she asked me, 
 with a change of tone. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have enjoyed it more than anything 
 that I have done since I came to Europe." 
 
 " Not more than anything you have done in your 
 life ? " she asked, speaking in a very indifferent 
 tone, and looking away over the horizon as she 
 did so. 
 
 " No, not more than anything I ever did in my 
 
202 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE" 
 
 life, dear princess," I replied. " That would be say- 
 ing too much, but certainly more than anything that 
 I have done since I came to Europe." 
 
 " Dorothy," she said, speaking in a very low voice, 
 and keeping her eyes averted from my own, " tell me 
 one thing. I would not pain you, dear, for the world, 
 but tell me, are you getting a little more reconciled 
 to your existence than you were ? " 
 
 " A little more used to it," I said guardedly. 
 
 " But not reconciled ? " she persisted. 
 
 For a moment I did not, could not, answer. 
 "Princess," I said at last, "do not think me un- 
 grateful or fault - rinding or carping, but I do not 
 believe that I shall ever be really reconciled to my 
 life as it is." 
 
 " Tell me," she said eagerly, " is there nothing that 
 we can do — Louis and I ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. You have done so much ; you have 
 won all the love that I have to give, all that is 
 left of my starved heart. You could not do more 
 for me. There are some things which no human 
 being in this wide world could do for me. Don't 
 think that there is anything more that you could do — 
 dear princess — my more than mother. Never in this 
 world was a stranger taken in and cared for, and 
 loved and protected, as you have cared for and loved 
 and protected me. I am not ungrateful. I have tried 
 so hard not to seem to repine ; indeed, I tried not to 
 do so. I have tried to believe that it is all for the 
 best, and it is only when you ask me outright whether 
 I am really reconciled that I allow myself to think of 
 the past at all. We cannot shut the past right out of 
 our lives, out of our hearts and our memories. You 
 have not forgotten the dear daughter you left alone 
 in Florestella under the orange trees and the rose 
 
THE WEAVING OF THE NET 203 
 
 bushes. It seems sometimes to me, Princess, as if you 
 have quite got over her loss ; but I know by myself 
 that you cannot have done so ; and then there comes 
 some chance word which tells me that your memory 
 is just as keen and your regret just as bitter as 
 on that sad day when we left Florestella to- 
 gether." 
 
 She caught her breath with a short, gasping sigh. 
 " Oh, yes, yes, you are right," she said ; " you are quite 
 right. There are times when I smile and laugh and 
 try to enter into the young life that is going on about 
 me, partly for Louis's sake and partly for yours ; and 
 sometimes not a little because I feel that it would 
 make my girl so unhappy if she knew that I was 
 fretting and grieving for her; but I have not for- 
 gotten — I have not ceased to regret." 
 
 " Oh, no ! How could that be ? And yet, dear 
 Princess," I said, " you ask me if I am reconciled." 
 
 "Ah, my dear, you don't quite understand. You 
 are so young, and I am so old — " 
 
 " Oh, no, Princess ! " I broke in. 
 
 " So old in some ways, dear. I feel sometimes as if 
 I were ninety instead of being only fifty-five. Some 
 women are comparatively young at that age — barely 
 middle-aged ; I feel old — old. But with you, dear ; 
 you are a girl still, and the young forget — mercifully, 
 they forget. Life would be unendurable if the young 
 and the very old felt things quite equally, and no re- 
 lief came to them. It is we people in middle life who 
 feel the most keenly. The young have a chance of 
 fresh happiness ; the old — I mean the physically old, 
 who are almost done with this world — very often feel 
 that it is no use dwelling upon their troubles, that 
 the partings of death are only for a day, or, as your 
 English poet puts it, a ' going out of this room into 
 
204 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 the next.' But we who have not outlived our most 
 precious emotions, who have to look forward to pos- 
 sibly twenty or thirty years of dead, blank want — 
 heart-want — we are the ones who suffer, and suffer 
 the most deeply. I feel sure that some day," she con- 
 tinued, " you will find the flowers of your love bloom 
 up again on the grave of your past sorrows. I hope 
 so, Dorothy — I hope so." 
 
 " You may be right, Princess," I said, not looking 
 at her, but twisting my rings round and round my 
 fingers, " you may be right ; but I do not feel like it 
 now. I have got over the horrible yearning to get 
 away from everything and everybody about me ; I 
 have got over the feeling that I must wake up one 
 day and find that this has all been a dream and that 
 I have never been away from India or from — him ; 
 but I am afraid that my heart- want is just the same 
 as it was, and nothing on this side of the grave will 
 
 ever fill up the blank that he left." 
 
 " And yet," said the princess, significantly, " there 
 
 may be other hearts as loving, as faithful, as true ; 
 
 other hearts that want, just as yours does. Have you 
 
 no pity for any such ? " 
 
 "I don't know. I don't feel that there are such 
 
 hearts for me." 
 
 "But I think," she said, in a very gentle voice, 
 
 " that I could tell you of one — " 
 
 "Don't tell me!" I broke in. "Don't tell me, 
 
 princess; I would rather not know it." 
 
 "My dear, don't you think it is best you should 
 
 know it — that you should face the truth, that you 
 
 should try to build up the damaged fabric of your 
 
 life; and, if you have lost the highest happiness of 
 
 all, that you should try to give that happiness to 
 
 another who has not yet found it ? " 
 
THE WEAVING OF THE NET 205 
 
 For a few minutes I did not, could not, speak. 
 " Dear Princess," I said, at last, " may I speak quite 
 plainly to you ? " 
 
 " Assuredly." 
 
 " Then don't speak of this again to me ; don't, when 
 you have been so good, take away my one harbour 
 of refuge from me and make my life, which is almost 
 contented and happy, impossible for both of us. I 
 won't pretend that I do not know what you mean — 
 that would be foolish — but I do so dread having my 
 life upheaved yet once again. You could not under- 
 stand, I think, how much I have been the victim of 
 strange circumstances in my past. I seem to have 
 been taken up right out of my life and thrust down, 
 without any will power of my own, into a totally new 
 existence among new scenes and among strange people. 
 This has happened to me twice already. When I 
 was first married I knew nobody that my husband 
 knew, not a soul, and yet no sooner did I go into this 
 new life than the old one was swept absolutely and 
 utterly away. I have told you, have I not, how my 
 dear father died immediately after my marriage r < 
 So, when I came to Europe, I stood out, oh, so stoutly, 
 against leaving India without my husband ; but it 
 was of no avail. I came, as you know, alone. Not 
 one soul that I had known in my past life was there 
 about me, excepting poor ignorant Ayah, who is more 
 dependent upon me than I upon her, to whom I am 
 of much more use than she is to me, much more use 
 and support; yet my whole life was upheaved once 
 again, and I was taken up and cast down in a strange 
 country among those who knew me not, as if I were 
 some child of Fate, some ball of chance with whom 
 the gods were playing as they would. Don't you 
 understand how I dread that this should happen once 
 
206 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 again, and that I should be taken up and flung 
 heaven knows whither ? " 
 
 " But, my dear child," said the princess, " you have 
 it in your power to make your future so secure that 
 you need never fear that such a change could happen 
 to you again." 
 
 " I thought so once before," I replied. " I thought 
 when I married my dear husband that I was safe 
 for the rest of my life, and yet in a few months 
 all was swept away from me — husband, child, home, 
 position, everything." 
 
 She laid her hand upon mine again. " That shall 
 not happen to you again while I have it in my 
 power to prevent it, Dorothy," she said quietly 
 and yet very firmly. "In any case, whatever 
 happens in your life here, you will be amply pro- 
 vided for. I have made special provision for you 
 in my will." 
 
 " Oh, Princess, don't talk about your will," I said 
 hurriedly. 
 
 She turned and looked at me with a new light 
 in her eyes. "I wonder," she began — then checked 
 herself abruptly. "But there, never mind — a 
 thought crossed my mind, that was all," she said, 
 a little confusedly. "I was saying, dear, that you 
 need be under no apprehension as to your future. 
 I am very rich, you know, apart from the Barza- 
 diev property, and I have left you an ample pro- 
 vision, so that if anything should happen to me 
 you will be quite independent of — of Louis, for 
 instance." 
 
 "Dear Princess," I said, "you are too kind — 
 far more kind than I deserve. I don't know 
 why you should have picked me out as one upon 
 whom to lavish such thought and kindness as 
 
THE WEAVING OF THE NET 207 
 
 you have done. I am afraid that I repay you but 
 badly." 
 
 "No, no, it is I who can never repay you," said 
 the princess, " always remember that, Dorothy ; what 
 I do for you is but a recompense, a small recognition 
 of an inestimable service which you have rendered 
 to me and mine." 
 
 I had been so unstrung and nervous all day 
 that it was with the greatest difficulty I could 
 keep myself from breaking down there and then 
 into a violent fit of weeping. " I wish that you had 
 not spoken of this," I said at last, " because it is 
 dreadful to me to contemplate a time when I 
 shall be separated from you by any cause. The 
 one of which you speak may be many, many years 
 away — I hope so, oh, I hope so. I have lost so 
 many of my dearest in that way that I begin to 
 think there is a fate upon me, that I am something 
 like the upas tree, deadly to those that love me, for 
 I seem to bring ill-luck upon all who attach them- 
 selves to me." 
 
 " No, my dear, no," she said, with gentle yet 
 firm decision, "you must put that notion out of 
 your mind at once; you are so good, so kind, so 
 gentle, there can be no ill-luck about your affec- 
 tion. At all events, you have never brought ill- 
 luck to me, quite the contrary. My poor Elisabeth 
 was doomed before you ever saw her. You added 
 much to the joy and comfort of her latter days, 
 and I have never had so much pleasure in my son as 
 I have had since you came and proved yourself 
 the magnet which has kept him so long with me. 
 I won't speak about him again except to say one 
 thing, Dorothy : that if you and he should eventu- 
 ally make up your minds to cast in your life's lot 
 
208 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 together, I want you to know beforehand that 
 such an arrangement would not only have rny 
 consent, but that it would be the fulfilment of 
 what at present is the dearest wish of my 
 heart. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 REST AND UNREST 
 
 More than a year went by after the princess had 
 laid bare her heart to me on board the yacht 
 Kaiserin Elisabeth. Prince Barzadiev was not 
 with us during the whole of the year following our 
 first cruise. When the gay party broke up and 
 severed company in the middle of September, the 
 princess and I went immediately to Aix-les-Bains 
 for the benefit of her health, which was a good deal 
 troubled by a tendency to rheumatism. 
 
 " Do you go with us to Aix, Louis ? " the princess 
 asked her son when our journey was first mooted. 
 
 " I think not, Mother. I have made several shoot- 
 ing engagements for this autumn," he replied, "and 
 I will take the chance of your having an occupa- 
 tion to get through them. Of course," he added, 
 " Dorothy will take a cure also ? " 
 
 I laughed outright. "I don't think, Prince, that 
 I need a cure," I said. 
 
 "Well, now," he said, "there I don't agree with 
 you. Aix is a great place for curing neuralgia, and 
 you are always having some form of it or other. 
 It will be very much better for my mother if you 
 are baking yourself in a vapour bath and going 
 through a cooking process at the same time as she 
 
 o 
 
210 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 is. It will do you as much good as it will do her, 
 and if you are wise — I won't say I consider you wise, 
 Dorothy — but if you are wise you will take the 
 opportunity of the cure at the same time." 
 
 I had no objection whatever to taking a cure. I 
 was perfectly willing to do anything so harmless as 
 that, if it would please them. So I consented to be 
 parboiled and half baked as regularly as the mornings 
 came round. 
 
 I am bound to say that the sojourn at Aix did me 
 a great deal of good, and when I found myself in 
 Paris, which was the princess's next idea, I was both 
 physically and mentally able to enjoy myself exceed- 
 ingly. From Paris, where we remained a couple of 
 months, we went on board the yacht again. I think 
 that in the ordinary course of events the princess 
 would have wished to spend the winter upon the 
 Riviera ; but our mutual experience at Florestella had 
 been so terrible, that when the idea was mooted, she 
 vetoed it with a decision which was very unusual for 
 her sweet and yielding character. In a general way, 
 the princess always gave one the idea that she was a 
 woman of few preferences, who cared little or nothing 
 for having her own way. At any moment, if she 
 could yield to the wishes of others, she seemed to find 
 her highest happiness in so doing. 
 
 But to the suggestion that it might be wise to 
 spend the winter on the Riviera, her reply was at 
 once determined and even abrupt. Eventually 
 it was decided that we should spend the coldest 
 of the winter months on the yacht, that we should 
 explore the south of Italy, and, if we felt so 
 inclined, go further afield and take a run along 
 the African coast. 
 
 I inquired of the princess what guests were 
 
REST AND UNREST 211 
 
 likely to be invited, and whether there would be 
 any of the same friends who had accompanied 
 us on our Eastern cruise. She told me that the 
 prince had already invited several of his men 
 friends, and that he was rather anxious she should 
 include a certain Italian marquesa in the party. 
 "Otherwise, Louis is quite indifferent as to what 
 ladies are asked. If the Marquesa de Canturce 
 accepts our invitation, I shall ask two ladies 
 whom I know she likes, and with whom she is 
 good friends." 
 
 "And won't you ask that charming Madame de 
 Furstang ? " I inquired. 
 
 "No, I think not. Dear Louis did dislike the 
 daughter so much." 
 
 " But she is so extremely pretty," I protested. 
 
 "Yes, I thought her very pretty and accom- 
 plished, and charmiug, and all that, but Louis 
 disliked her immensely. He begged me not to 
 ask her this time. He declared that she quite 
 spoilt his trip before. So that, of course, makes 
 it quite out of the question that she should be 
 included again. I am sorry, because Madame de 
 Furstang is a very agreeable woman, and always 
 seems to be in the right place under whatever 
 circumstances you find her. It is a pity that 
 her daughter has not more of her natural manner 
 and adaptability. However, there it is, and, of 
 course, I cannot go against Louis in this respect." 
 
 Eventually the marquesa did join our party, 
 which was further supplemented by the two in- 
 timate friends of hers of whom the princess had 
 spoken, both charming married women, who took 
 full advantage of the situation. The cruise was 
 even more successful than the one to the Bos- 
 
212 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 phorus had been. So successful was it, indeed, 
 that although we were bound to go back to Ischel- 
 stein for the New Year, the princess and her son 
 having faithfully promised to be with their people 
 at that time, we all assembled again during the 
 cold spring days, and made the Kaiserin Elisa- 
 beth our home some weeks longer. 
 
 Then we went to Vienna, and once more to Aix, 
 and in the October we found ourselves settled at 
 Ischelstein for a spell of at least three months. 
 By this time I had grown quite accustomed to 
 the life which I lived with the Barzadievs. I will 
 not say that I had, in any sense, forgotten my past, 
 or ceased my regrets for the husband of my youth, or 
 the dear love of my whole heart. Oh, no ! Does one 
 ever forget one's first love, one's only great love ? I 
 think not. But I was very young, and one cannot 
 go on feeling the same poignancy of grief for ever. 
 Time, if it does not actually heal our heart- wounds, 
 does most assuredly deaden our keenest sensations, 
 and I, with no feeling of unfaithfulness in my bosom, 
 with no desire to re-people the blank chambers of my 
 heart, yet had come to take a pleasure and an interest 
 in the events of everyday life. I did enjoy beauti- 
 ful scenery ; I did revel in fine music ; I took an 
 interest in my appearance and a pleasure in my 
 wardrobe. I had in a great measure lost the dread- 
 ful feeling of age which had so oppressed me on my 
 first going to Ischelstein. When I sang to please 
 those who wished to hear me, it was without the 
 great effort which I had made in the beginning; 
 when dancing was going on, I danced like any other 
 young woman of my age, from sheer love of the 
 exercise and the pleasure of attuning my feet to the 
 rhythm of the music which reached my ears. 
 
REST AND UNREST 213 
 
 During those three months at Ischelstein, a con- 
 tinuous stream of guests came and went from time to 
 time. I had never been one of a large house-party 
 before. You see, my experience of English life was 
 very small, almost, indeed, amounting to nothing ; 
 and although I had heard a great deal from my 
 husband, and from various English ladies whom I 
 had known in India, of the joys and pleasures of 
 country-house life, I had never known it for my- 
 self. I think it would have been hard to find any 
 English house-party where more trouble was taken 
 to promote the welfare of the various guests than 
 was taken by Princess Barzadiev and her son for 
 the edification and amusement of those who came 
 to stay at Ischelstein. The castle was such a palace 
 of a place — so vast, so filled with luxury and con- 
 venience for the entertainment of a great crowd 
 of people — their acquaintance was so large, and their 
 place in the world so high, that they were naturally 
 able to command the very best in the way of com- 
 pany as well as of service. All that was best and 
 brightest in the world of European fashion and wit 
 seemed to find its way to Ischelstein during those 
 few months. I had constant hopes that the attrac- 
 tions of some fair lady would prove too much for the 
 peace of mind of Prince Barzadiev, but, alas, he 
 remained inconveniently faithful to me. 
 
 And certainly Prince Barzadiev was not without 
 many opportunities of marrying. He might, as a 
 matter of fact, have married anyone. He was one 
 of the most eligible matches in Europe, his age, 
 wealth, position and birth all combining to make 
 him so. He was a favourite with women, too. They 
 liked him because of his lack of effeminacy, his 
 simple, direct manliness, to say nothing of the proud 
 
214 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 position which he would have been able to bestow 
 upon his wife. But they spread their charms for 
 him in vain. He had beautiful manners, and he was 
 very polite, but unfortunately he was too polite for 
 anything approaching to that sweet intimacy which 
 so frequently precedes serious love affairs. He did 
 not actually propose to me again, and only once or 
 twice was he betrayed into letting me perceive 
 clearly that he still was not without hope that one 
 day things might be different between us. 
 
 At last we were left alone, we three. " Do you 
 know," said the princess to me when we found our- 
 selves together in her boudoir, " that it is a great 
 relief to my mind to have got all these visitors done 
 with ? " 
 
 "You are not feeling well, Princess," I said 
 quickly. 
 
 " No, dear, I have not felt well for some weeks, 
 and the last few days it has been almost more than 
 I could bear. I almost think that I shall not go 
 away just yet. Would you be very much dis- 
 appointed if I cried off our visit to Paris for some 
 little time ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " I exclaimed. " What difference can 
 it make to me ? Besides, if you are not well enough 
 to go, that puts it out of the question. Here is the 
 prince. Let us see what he says." 
 
 Prince Barzadiev came into the room just in time 
 to catch my words. He sat down on the end of his 
 mother's couch, and asked what we were talking 
 of. 
 
 " I was saying to Dorothy that I do not think I 
 feel fit to go to Paris at present," said the princess, 
 half apologetically. 
 
 " Then don't go," he returned, without hesitation. 
 
REST AND UNREST 215 
 
 " You would go, Louis ? You will not remain here 
 because I am not quite well ? " 
 
 " Well, I would much prefer to stop at Ischelstein," 
 he replied promptly. " You know, Mother, I am 
 never tired of Ischelstein, and if you are not feeling 
 well, I would much prefer to remain with you. I 
 am afraid all these house-parties have been a little 
 too much for you." 
 
 " Well, dear, perhaps they have been a little too 
 much ; and yet, I don't know, they have been a 
 great pleasure in their way. No, I don't think it is 
 the house-parties. I have such a curious feeling of 
 faintness, a kind of sensation as if I were slipping 
 out of life altogether. It comes over me from time 
 to time almost irresistibly — I mean, that I have to 
 make such an effort to go on living, as it were." 
 
 " You want rest and quiet," said the prince, in a 
 tone of decision. " I shall certainly not leave Ischel- 
 stein whilst you are like that. Nor is there any 
 reason why we should do so, unless Dorothy here is 
 craving for excitement." 
 
 I laughed outright. " I am not craving for excite- 
 ment," I replied immediately. "Never was a more 
 humdrum and contented nature than mine, as you 
 must know perfectly well." 
 
 " I believe that that is so," he said, half gravely 
 and yet half lightly. " Then we will both sacrifice 
 ourselves and stay here with my mother, in order 
 that she may rejuvenate herself. For my own part," 
 he went on, " I must say that I am thoroughly glad 
 to be rid of all these people. One has to entertain, of 
 course. When one has a large acquaintance one must 
 keep it going, and pay one's debts of hospitality ; but 
 a succession of big house-parties is a great tax, and 
 be as easy-going as one will, they are bound to take 
 
216 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 it out of one's nerves. If I were you, Mother, I 
 should think twice before I asked a fresh succession 
 of visitors to Ischelstein." 
 
 So it was decided that we should remain at the 
 castle for some weeks to come. But the princess 
 did not recover as quickly as she ought to have done. 
 Those curious spells of deadly faintness recurred from 
 time to time, making us more anxious and uneasy 
 with each one that came upon her, and she began to 
 look very transparent and ethereal, as if a breath 
 would blow her away. I confess that I watched her 
 from day to day with my heart in my mouth. I had 
 not had an experience of illness such as would tend 
 to make me hopeful in the face of long-continued 
 ill-health, and I think at that time that I had become 
 so apprehensive and so nervous about my adopted 
 mother that, if she had asked me to cut off my hand, 
 I should cheerfully have complied with her request. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 ON THE THRESHOLD 
 
 We seemed once more to have gone back to those 
 first quiet days which had been our portion after the 
 return of Prince Barzadiev to the home of his ances- 
 tors, that is to say, when I had first known him. 
 The spring was an unusually cold one, and the 
 princess lived in an atmosphere more resembling that 
 of a hothouse than anything that I had ever known 
 in my life, even in far-away and sultry India. To 
 one in her extremely weak condition this was an 
 actual necessity, but to us younger people it was 
 extremely trying. 
 
 " Dorothy ought to ride with me every day," said 
 the prince to his mother, when he entered her boudoir 
 one afternoon. " She is getting to lock very peaked 
 and pinched, and I believe it is nothing but the fact 
 that she lives in this hothouse atmosphere." 
 
 " She is certainly looking very wan," said the 
 princess, turning on her couch and looking at me 
 anxiously. " You know, dear child, there is no 
 reason, because I cannot breathe the chill air, that 
 you, who are, or should be strong and well, should 
 remain cooped up all the day with me. Do take her 
 out as much as you can, Louis. It is good for her 
 
 217 
 
218 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 and it is better for me that she should be well looked 
 after." 
 
 So we began our old system of daily rides, drives 
 and walks together, and I believe that we should 
 have gone on so indefinitely, without any idea of 
 after consequences, if it had not been for the princess 
 herself. Just at first she seemed only relieved that 
 I was being looked after and my health taken care 
 of, and her son kept amused and free from ennui. 
 Then I be^an to notice that each time I came in her 
 eyes wore a searching look and she would ask, " Well, 
 dear child, what news ? " in a tone as if I might 
 have something very unusual to impart. I seldom 
 had anything unusual, for our life was as uneventful 
 as the life of people high in the world possibly could 
 be. I do not mean to say that I was of any im- 
 portance, for I was not, and I never flattered myself 
 with any different idea; but the Barzadievs were 
 a family of almost regal position, upon whose nod 
 the weal and woe of the population of several 
 very large districts depended. 
 
 Prince Barzadiev spoke to me one day about his 
 mother's state of health. " Dorothy," he said to me 
 suddenly when we were out riding, and were miles 
 and miles away from the castle, " what do you think 
 of my mother ? " 
 
 " What do I think of the princess ? Why, how 
 do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean of her health." 
 
 "Oh, I think her health is extremely delicate. 
 I think she will have to take great care for a 
 long time to come." 
 
 " Yes, but do you think that care will do all 
 that is necessary ? " 
 
 " How do you mean ? " 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD 210 
 
 " What is your candid opinion of my mother's 
 state of health ? " 
 
 " I think it is very bad." 
 
 "Does that mean that you think she is going 
 to die ? " He put the question exactly as if he 
 had been nerving himself to do so for a long 
 time. 
 
 " I don't know," I replied. It was true. I 
 did not know. And I did not like to think. 
 
 " I don't know either," he said, looking hard 
 over his horse's head, "I don't know either, but 
 one cannot help thinking, and I have been think- 
 ing pretty often lately that there is a look in her 
 eyes which I do not like." 
 
 "I too," I murmured. 
 
 "A far-away kind of look. She was always 
 more of a saint than a human being — that she 
 has been ever since I can remember anything — but 
 she never looked so heavenly as she has looked 
 during these last few months. Have you, too, 
 noticed it ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have noticed it, Prince," I replied, al- 
 most under my breath. 
 
 " Dorothy," he said, " I don't want to disturb 
 you, but has it ever struck you that in the event 
 of my mother being taken away your relations 
 and mine must of necessity be altered ? " 
 
 "I don't see why," I replied. 
 
 " You would not be able to remain at Ischel- 
 stein." 
 
 "Oh, no!" 
 
 " I mean you would have to make a new home 
 for yourself." 
 
 "Yes, I know that." 
 
 " Not by my wish, you know, Dorothy ; you 
 
220 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 know what my wishes are and have always been, 
 but we could not fly in the face of the world — 
 of the whole world — you understand that ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! But need we think of that con- 
 tingency before any actual necessity arises that 
 we should discuss it ? " 
 
 " It is always best," he said quietly, " to be 
 prepared for any emergency that may arise. I 
 have always found it so, and my experience has 
 been corroborated by watching the lives of others 
 as well as of my own. You would be sorry to 
 leave Ischelstein ? " 
 " Oh, yes ! " 
 
 " And sorry to leave us ? " 
 " Yes, undoubtedly, I should be very sorry." 
 " Then why," he said, " can you not make up your 
 mind to remain here for always — to remain in the 
 one position which will be unassailable, the posi- 
 tion of my wife ? You know," he went on, " that 
 I think nothing in this world would give my 
 mother so much pleasure as to know that you 
 and I had come to an understanding with each 
 other." 
 
 A thought flashed into my mind that we had 
 come to an understanding with each other, or, 
 rather, that I had come to an understanding with 
 myself as regarded Prince Barzadiev, but it was 
 one of those situations in life in which quite plain 
 speaking was almost an impossibility. I could not 
 shut my eyes to the fact that he was paying me 
 the highest compliment which lies in the power 
 of any man to offer to any woman. I could not 
 shut my eyes to the fact that probably not another 
 woman of my age in Europe would have hesitated 
 to accept the proud position which he was able to 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD 221 
 
 offer, and was then offering to me. It was not 
 only a proud position, it was a loyal and faithful 
 love, which had borne the test of nearly three 
 years' lack of encouragement. 
 
 "I have been very patient with you," he went 
 on, "because I felt that your life had been so 
 cruelly shipwrecked, that a hasty or impatient 
 word of mine might not only undo all my wishes, 
 but give you what I would not give you for the 
 whole world — an infinitude of pain. But nearly 
 three years have gone by since I first hoped to 
 be able to win back the sunshine to your heart 
 and the real smiles to your lips. I cannot shut 
 my eyes, nor can you shut yours, to the fact that 
 my mother, whose presence renders your position 
 here possible and bearable, is in an extremely 
 delicate state of health. She may be taken away 
 at any moment. I cannot wait until that con- 
 tingency arises to, as it were, force myself upon 
 you and take advantage of your natural reluct- 
 ance to go into a world that is unknown to you, 
 and to form fresh ties for yourself, with your 
 heart sore from the loss of your best friend. I 
 am not taking advantage of my position as your host 
 — your willing host, grateful for the privilege of 
 being able to stand between you and the world : 
 I say I am not taking advantage of that position, 
 it is from a feeling that you shall not be taken 
 by surprise later, when you are less fit to discuss 
 such a question, that I have allowed myself to 
 speak now. But, Dorothy, I do ask you to con- 
 sider that I have been for nearly three years 
 absolutely at your feet. I won't attempt to com- 
 pare my love with that of the man whose name 
 you bear ; I neither laud mine nor decry his. but 
 
222 TIIE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 I think if he knew the circumstances in which 
 you are placed, and if he really loved you as 
 much as I do (and your faithfulness to him 
 gives me no reason to doubt it), that he would 
 be the first to advise you, to counsel you to 
 listen to me. I cannot understand any man with 
 a real love for his wife who would not, if he 
 were taken away from her, prefer that she should 
 be sheltered and shielded from a hard world by 
 a man whose love was as great as his own. 
 Will you promise me to think over this during 
 the next few days ? " 
 
 I did so promise — I had no choice — and I told him 
 that I would like to go home. " Let us turn back," 
 I said. " In a measure you have taken me by surprise. 
 Oh, Prince," I went on, and I turned and held out my 
 hand to him, " I don't know what you must think 
 of me. I must seem to you so ungrateful and so 
 hard, but it is not that which makes me hesitate; 
 but truly it is because I have never forgotten my 
 first, last, dear love whom I left broken-hearted far 
 away in India. I feel as if I never could put any- 
 body else into his place. Don't think me unkind 
 or slighting. Perhaps if I had seen you first I 
 should have liked you best, but he was my husband, 
 my love, I gave him all my heart, and I do hesitate, 
 both for his sake and yours, to give you what is 
 left of my life, because I could never, oh, not if I 
 lived to be old — old — old — give you the same love 
 that I had and still have for him." 
 
 " Nay," he said quietly. " I don't ask that, I 
 don't expect it. There was a time — I mean a time 
 when I would have said that I would be all or 
 nothing to the woman I loved, but that is gone by. 
 This love of mine for you possesses me so completely 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD 223 
 
 that I would cheerfully and gladly take you on 
 any terms, short of their being terms of dishonour. 
 I don't mean, Dorothy, that I would win you by a 
 trick — no Barzadiev has ever descended to a trick 
 of any kind, not in the whole history of our race — 
 I do not mean that I would take you for my wife 
 if you showed me repugnance or distrust, or hatred, 
 or fear ; but you have none of these feelings for 
 me?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! " I cried hurriedly. 
 
 " You like me. If you had not met that other 
 one, you might have loved me as you loved him. 
 He is dead, I would not say a word against him for 
 the whole world, I would not say one word even in 
 the faintest disparagement of him ; and besides that, 
 I have never had such sympathy for any human 
 being as for that dead husband of yours, because 
 he loved you, and I love you ; but when it becomes 
 a question of being eager, and proud, and glad, and 
 willing to have you for my wife, with no more on 
 your side than a feeling of liking, that is different. 
 I would rather have your liking than the love of 
 all the other women in the world. So you see, 
 Dorothy, it is no light love which I offer. You will 
 think it over, won't you ? " 
 
 " Yes," I said, " I will think it over. I can pro- 
 mise you nothing — I must think. I don't believe," 
 I went on hurriedly, " that I can say yes. You 
 don't know what an upheaval it seems to make to 
 my mind to even contemplate such a change. If 
 I say yes, it will be as much for your mother's sake 
 as for yours — it will be for both your sakes rather 
 than for mine. I know that it is hateful of me to 
 say this, but it is true. As my dear adopted mother's 
 son, I like you, and respect you, and admire you, 
 
224 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 Prince, but I do not love you. It is no use letting 
 you buoy yourself up with the idea that I might 
 come and lay my hand in yours, and tell you that 
 I love you. I don't love you the least little bit in 
 the world. I like you — nothing more. It is not 
 that you are not lovable — nobody who has seen 
 what a son you are could feel that — but you do 
 not touch me. Perhaps, I ought rather to say that 
 all my power of loving seems to have died, to 
 have been dead within me before I ever saw you. 
 It is only a dead heart that I have here," touching 
 my breast ; " not the kind of heart that ought to 
 be given in return for such a love as yours. I do 
 not try to excuse myself; I do not try to gloss it 
 over; it is something I cannot help; something for 
 which I am not responsible. Perhaps, if my husband 
 had died in my presence, I might have felt differently 
 by this time, but he has never seemed dead to me; 
 it has always been to me as if he was just out there 
 in India, and I must get along without him as best 
 I can until we shall meet again. My reason tells me 
 and has always told me that in this world there can 
 be no meeting, no coming together again ; but I have 
 that curious feeling that if I go out of this world 
 as he left me, that I shall find him somewhere or 
 other. I have lived for that, and in that hope, all 
 these three weary years. Supposing that I were 
 to marry you — to say yes, to become your wife, and 
 you ever reproached me that I did not love you as 
 I loved him — Oh, I should kill myself ! " 
 
 " But I never should so reproach you," he said 
 gently, and yet in a tone of deep conviction, " it is the 
 last thing in the world that I should dream of doing. 
 I could not reproach you with what you had warned 
 me previously would assuredly happen. I ask you 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD 225 
 
 for no love ; I do not even ask you for an immediate 
 answer. I only wished, for your own sake, to lay 
 before you, clearly and distinctly and dispassionately, 
 certain contingencies which may arise before very 
 long. I want you to think it over for my sake, whom 
 you like, for the sake of my mother, whom you love, 
 and, most of all, for the sake of your own welfare, 
 though I know that you think of yourself last and 
 least of anybody in all the world." 
 
 I bent my head, and presently nerved myself to say 
 that I would think over all that he had said to me, 
 carefully and dispassionately. In truth, I had never 
 liked him so well as at that moment. There was 
 something so manly and so brave about him, so unsel- 
 fish and so considerate, that my very heart smote me 
 that I could not love him as he deserved to be loved 
 by the woman of his choice. 
 
 We rode back to the castle almost in silence, not 
 referring to the serious subject of our conversation at 
 all, and when we reached the great entrance we were 
 met with the information that the princess had had a 
 very serious seizure of f aintness, and that the servants 
 had sent in haste for her doctor. They told us that she 
 was still in the boudoir, the doctor not having thought 
 it advisable to move her even to her own chamber. 
 
 " And who is with her *? " asked the prince. 
 
 The servant told him that the doctor was still in 
 attendance upon the princess, and that he had given 
 orders that on our return we were to go in as quietly 
 and in as ordinary a manner as possible. 
 
 " I will go in without changing my habit," I said ; 
 " because the princess is so accustomed to that that 
 she would notice it if I stayed to change my things." 
 
 I, therefore, went straight to the boudoir, where I 
 found the princess lying back upon a large couch, 
 
 p 
 
226 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 Ayah was in attendance upon her, and, sitting beside 
 her was the doctor, who had general charge of 
 her health. 
 
 " Why, dear Princess," I said, in as cheerful a tone as 
 I could put on, " have you had another attack of 
 faintness ? " 
 
 " Yes. I am not very well," she said in a feeble, 
 far-away voice. 
 
 The doctor briefly explained to me that the attack 
 was not serious, a merely temporary indisposition 
 which was already greatly relieved. 
 
 " Ah ! I suppose the servants were frightened," I 
 said, taking my cue from him and speaking very care- 
 lessly, far more carelessly than I was feeling. 
 
 " Yes, I think that that really was the state of the 
 case precisely," said the doctor. " Her highness is 
 much better, greatly relieved. Fortunately, I hap- 
 pened to be within reach, and was able to come 
 immediately. Mrs Hamlyn, I would like to give you 
 various little instructions presently in case the attack 
 should return." 
 
 " Certainly. I shall be at your service when you 
 wish to speak to me." 
 
 I don't think that the princess herself was at all 
 alarmed by her sudden illness. " Don't let them fuss 
 over me," she whispered, when I had brought her a 
 cup of tea, and the prince had come in and heard the 
 full account of her seizure. " It is the fuss I cannot 
 bear. Doctor Rathalder is coming back presently. 
 Now that you and Louis have come, he need not 
 trouble to remain longer. He can come back pre- 
 sently." 
 
 " Then I will run upstairs and take off my habit. 
 Ayah will remain with you until I return. I shall 
 not be more than a few minutes, and then I will read 
 
ON THE THRESHOLD 227 
 
 that story that you were so anxious to finish this 
 morning." 
 
 I was out of my habit and into a tea-gown as 
 quickly as possible, and, on my return, despatched 
 Ayah out of the room. The prince had followed me 
 into the boudoir, but when he had seen me ensconced 
 in a low chair beside his mother's couch, with one of 
 the new English magazines in my hand, he asked her if 
 she could spare him for half-an-hour that he might 
 send an important letter away by the next post. She 
 gave him the required permission, and as soon as the 
 door had closed behind him, turned eagerly and said 
 to me, " Dorothy, have you any news for me ? " 
 
 " News, Princess ? " 
 
 ' Yes, news. Has anything happened between you 
 and Louis ? There is a look on his face that I have 
 not seen there before. Don't keep me in suspense. 
 Oh, Dorothy, Dorothy, if anything in the world will 
 save my life, it will be to know that you have 
 promised to make my son happy." 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 MY MEMORIES 
 
 T admitted to the princess that her son had spoken 
 to me during the course of our ride, and that I 
 had promised to give him a definite answer during 
 the next few days. She held my hand in her hot, 
 frail clasp and looked at me wistfully. " My dear," 
 she said, " I don't like to say anything to urge you 
 one way or the other, and yet I must tell you that 
 if you consent to become Louis's wife it will make 
 me more happy than I think anything else in the 
 whole world could possibly do. If I know that 
 your future is assured, and his, I can lie down 
 and die, oh ! with such content ! And if anything 
 will keep me alive a little longer, it will be the 
 pleasure of seeing my son's happiness, and, I truly 
 believe, your contentment." 
 
 "I will think it over, Princess," I said. "I must 
 think before I can promise anything definitely. 
 Don't try to force me into it, don't hurry me. You 
 see," 1 went on, pitifully, " I am not in love with 
 him, and I was with my husband, and still am with 
 his memory." 
 
 " And yet Louis is very lovable," said the princess, 
 wistfully. 
 
 She was still holding my hand, and I pressed 
 
 228 
 
MY MEMORIES 229 
 
 hers tenderly. " Dear Princess," I said, " I know how 
 very, very lovable your son is. It is that which 
 makes it so hard for me. If I had known him 
 first, it might have been otherwise ; as it is, I 
 think that my heart was dead before I ever saw 
 him." 
 
 "A dead heart may bud and bloom again," mur- 
 mured the princess. 
 
 " I don't think so," I replied. " I don't feel like 
 it. I feel hopeless and full of despair, not knowing 
 what to do for the best, not knowing which is the 
 right course for me to take. I want to do what is 
 best, I want to take the course that is the wisest 
 and the best for all of us. But you must leave me 
 to think it out for myself. I can neither seek nor 
 take advice; it is a subject that I must decide for 
 myself and of myself. Don't speak to me about 
 it again, princess. Leave me alone the next few 
 days, and perhaps the light may come in upon my 
 brain, so that I may be led to do what is really the 
 best and the wisest." 
 
 "I will not speak of it again," she said, with 
 quiet decision. " I am sure, dear, that you will do 
 what is the best and wisest, or what you believe to 
 be so, and if you decide against Louis I promise 
 you that I never will reproach you or feel any 
 differently towards you — my dear, dear daughter, 
 Dorothy." 
 
 The princess remained in the boudoir during the 
 evening, taking there the light meal which the 
 doctor had ordered for her; and Prince Barzadiev 
 and I dined alone together in the smaller of the two 
 dining-rooms. I think that any stranger watching 
 us would have believed us to be brother and sister ; 
 most assuredly no onlooker would have believed that 
 
230 THE STKANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 a grave question affecting the whole of our after 
 lives had arisen between us that very day, and was 
 still pending decision. 
 
 We went back to the boudoir immediately the 
 meal was over, and very soon the princess was 
 carried to her own chamber by the servants, when I 
 at once turned to the prince and held out my hand 
 to him. " You will forgive me if I retire now," I 
 said. " I must see your mother settled for the 
 night, and then I wish to be alone." 
 
 He bent and kissed my hand, bade me his usual 
 parting of " Sleep well," and I left him. 
 
 I was not long in the apartments of the princess, 
 for she was naturally very much exhausted after 
 her attack, and was already in bed when Doctor 
 Rathalder came to pay his second visit. When 
 he had gone, I bade her good-night and went at 
 once to my own apartments. Once there, I told 
 Ayah to go to bed, to go away, and not trouble 
 about me any more, that I would be my own 
 maid for the night; and when she had departed 
 and I found myself alone at last, I drew a chair 
 up to the tall white stove by which my sitting-room 
 was warmed and sat down to think over the events 
 of the day. 
 
 Well, I had come face to face with the end at last. 
 I must either consent to marry Prince Barzadiev, 
 to make him and his mother happy, to make that 
 return for all the kindness and care which they had 
 lavished upon me, or I must face the certainty 
 that, at no very distant date, I must turn out of 
 the home where I had spent three safely-sheltered, 
 if not altogether happy years, and seek a new life 
 in a world that was utterly strange to me. Long, 
 long did I sit there, conning over my remembrances 
 
MY MEMORIES 231 
 
 of him whom I had lost, looking with dry sad 
 eyes at the many photographs that I had of him, 
 turning over the souvenirs and gifts that he had 
 given me from time to time during our short and 
 happy married life, trying to pierce the unfathom- 
 able future with my tired eyes and to see light 
 where there was no light. Oh, it was so hard, so 
 hard! If I had followed my natural instinct I 
 could have decided the question in a single moment, 
 for my soul turned sick within me at the thought of 
 putting another man into my Eddy's place ; but there 
 were other considerations in the matter than my own 
 personal feeling. There was the thought of a man's 
 whole life then trembling in the balance of fate, a 
 man who for three years had done everything that 
 lay in his power to show me honour, respect, con- 
 sideration and true affection; there was the longr 
 record of his mother's love for me, the fact that 
 in the darkest hour of my life's tribulation she had 
 stood between me and the evils and hardships of the 
 world ; the equally indisputable fact that she was 
 lying just across the corridor in an almost dying 
 condition, that it was the desire of her life — of this 
 part of her life, at all events — that I should become 
 her son's wife. By that one act I should amply re- 
 pay all that I had received. It was no light price 
 to pay for kindness, but it was a price the value 
 of which, to my creditors, was indisputable. Then, 
 on the other hand, there was the awful contingency, 
 alas ! drawing painfully near, that I should have to 
 turn out into the world alone. I think that any- 
 one who has lived a safely-sheltered life, full of 
 family joys and ties, would scarcely be able to 
 understand the unutterable loneliness of my posi- 
 tion, and the extreme dread with which I contem- 
 
232 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 plated even the possibility of beginning life afresh 
 for the fourth time. And yet, in spite of all this 
 there was the thought of the dear sweetheart of 
 my girlhood, so cruelly taken from me ere our 
 love had lost its first youth. I could not make 
 up my mind to set him and his dear memory on 
 one side. 
 
 "Eddy, Eddy, what shall I do?" I cried. "Can 
 you not give me some sign from where you are? 
 Have you so forgotten me, have you been so 
 happy during these years that you have been up 
 in heaven that you have no thought or care for 
 what I have been suffering ? Or are you not able 
 to come to me for a single moment to tell me 
 what I ought to do, to help me to guide myself? 
 It is so hard for me to have to decide everything 
 for myself, who once rested upon you." 
 
 But there was no sign. My Eddy's photographs 
 smiled at me with the same careless, bright look 
 that had been his when in life. There was no 
 guidance in the poor bits of paper, there was no 
 longer any comfort in regarding them. 
 
 At last I went to bed and slept, and in my sleep 
 my lost husband came to me — came just as I had 
 known him in this world, with a smile on his 
 lips, with the old pleasant light in his eyes, and 
 he greeted me with the same firm yet tender hand 
 clasp that had been one of his most delightful 
 characteristics. I don't think that I have a very 
 clear idea of what he said to me, but I awoke in 
 the dead of night to find my room only illumined 
 by the little silver lamp which burned near my 
 bed, and I awoke with the impression that my 
 husband had been with me, and that his advice 
 to me was to go on and make those about me 
 
MY MEMORIES 233 
 
 happy. I lay awake for a little time, feeling per- 
 fectly tranquil and at ease in my mind, and then 
 I fell asleep again, and knew no more until Ayah 
 arrived with my early tea. 
 
 I learned from her that the princess was de- 
 cidedly better; that she had passed a really good 
 night, and that the doctor had been with her and 
 had just taken his departure, having expressed him- 
 self extremely satisfied and pleased with her progress. 
 
 The regular breakfast hour at the castle was 
 ten o'clock, and I arose leisurely and dressed so as 
 to be ready by that time. Strangely enough, all 
 the perturbation, doubt and dread of the few 
 previous hours seemed to have left me. I dressed 
 myself with care and went down to the cosy 
 little breakfast-room just as the bell had sounded 
 for the meal. It was the only absolutely informal 
 meal of the entire day. It was the custom for 
 the servants to serve the first course and then to 
 leave the room, so in less than five minutes the 
 prince and I were alone together. 
 
 " I hope you slept well, Dorothy ? " said the prince, 
 as the door closed behind the last of the attendants. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I slept fairly well, thank you," I re- 
 plied. "I am so delighted to hear that the 
 princess is better, that she has had a good night." 
 
 " You have not seen her ? " 
 
 "No. I went across to her rooms, but she 
 was dozing, and I told Louise that I would go to 
 her when I had breakfasted." 
 
 "I just saw her for a moment," he said. "She 
 looks decidedly better. I don't think her attack 
 was as serious as the servants seem to have done. 
 I suppose they got frightened." 
 
 Then we talked of other tilings, looked at our 
 
234 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 letters and at one or two of the newspapers, and 
 when he had finished breakfast and left the table, 
 and I was leaning back in my chair wondering 
 how I should break the ice and say what was in 
 my mind, an opportunity presented itself to me, 
 for the prince suddenly looked over the top of his 
 paper at me and said, "If you think my mother 
 is really better when you see her, I shall take the 
 opportunity of going over to Molderberg for a 
 long business talk with Schiff. I have promised 
 him for some time that I would give him a few 
 hours to discuss certain alterations necessary on 
 that part of the property. I may as well do it 
 to-day as any other day." 
 
 His manner revealed to me as clearly as if he 
 had put it into plain words that he was anxious 
 to betake himself out of my way as much as was 
 possible during the time that I was trying to 
 arrive at a decision concerning our future. My 
 heart smote me. How considerate, how unselfish, 
 how delicate-minded he was ! 
 
 I got up from my chair and went nearer to the 
 great porcelain stove, holding out my hands that 
 they might catch something of the warmth which 
 radiated from it. For a moment I hesitated to 
 speak, then my eyes fell upon the chill and wintry 
 landscape which was to be seen through the double 
 windows. Molderberg was at least ten miles away, 
 and his going over there meant driving that dis- 
 tance and home again. " Prince," I said, half 
 hesitatingly, "I have something to say to you. I 
 understand what you mean about going to Molder- 
 berg, but I do not think that you need go. Your 
 mother may want you, and there is no occasion 
 for you to get out of my way.' 
 
MY MEMORIES 235 
 
 He just touched my hand with his. " How very 
 keen you are, Dorothy," he said, with a half laugh. 
 
 "Oh, it does not need any very keen perception 
 to see your meaning in that," I said, smiling; "but 
 the truth is I spent a long time last night thinking 
 over what you had said to me, and if you are 
 prepared still to — to — take me upon the very un- 
 equal terms which I told you were the only ones 
 that I could—" 
 
 " Dorothy ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " I cannot say anything more," I said hastily, and 
 went on hurriedly, for I felt that I must make a 
 last protest as to my own unworthiness. " I am 
 afraid that I can feel no differently, that I shall 
 never be able to feel differently, but if you like 
 to take me, knowing that my heart is practically 
 dead, that I have no real love to give you — " 
 
 He caught my two hands in his without giving 
 me time to say another word. " Dorothy ! " he 
 cried, " is it really true ? Can I believe what I 
 hear ? If I will take you ! Why, I would take 
 you upon any terms — thankfully, gladly, reverently. 
 And may my life from now forward be used in 
 no better cause than to make you happy, to re- 
 ward you for your goodness and your generosity 
 to me." 
 
 In spite of his tremulous earnestness, I could not 
 forbear from laughing outright. " Well, prince," I 
 said, and perhaps my perception of the quaint side 
 of the situation saved me from making anything 
 approaching to a scene, " I do not know where 
 my goodness or my generosity are to be found. 
 I think it is you who are generous, you who are 
 good. With me it is take all and give nothing." 
 
 " But you have given me yourself." 
 
236 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 " Yes, I give you the husk of myself, that 
 is all." 
 
 " Still, it is the best that you have." 
 
 " Yes, it is the best that I have." 
 
 "And perhaps, who knows," he exclaimed, "some 
 clay you may find that your heart is not so dead, 
 after all ; you may find a love, as fresh and sweet 
 as the old love, bloom up again." 
 
 " But you will never reproach me if there is no 
 such blooming ? " I protested. 
 
 "I will never reproach you at all. I will never 
 reproach you with anything," he said passionately. 
 "And yet, Dorothy, my dear, dear love, I do feel 
 that a young life like yours cannot be all past. 
 There must be some future, there must be some 
 fertility left in your heart. I have great faith in 
 the flowers that may bloom of their own free will 
 by-and-by." 
 
 Oh ! if we could have looked forward, we two 
 — forward to the time when the wellsprings of 
 love would gush up once more in my heart with 
 tenfold the strength they had ever gushed forth 
 with in the days gone by. Oh ! if we could have 
 looked forward — as we were able to look back ! 
 But that is what poor mortals cannot, may 
 not do. 
 
 And so we plighted our troth to each other, and 
 he kissed me for the first time in our lives. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 MY SECOND MARRIAGE DAY 
 
 After having once imparted my decision and my 
 consent to Prince Barzadiev, I seemed to have no 
 time even to breathe. Naturally, the princess was 
 immediately informed of what had taken place 
 between us, and from that moment her health 
 began steadily to mend. 
 
 " You will not keep Louis waiting ? " were her 
 first words. 
 
 He had not asked me to hurry on our marriage, 
 yet I felt that this was an additional reason why 
 I should put no obstacle in the way of everything 
 being clearly settled. " Oh, no," I said. " I will 
 do anything that you and he like, now that I 
 have really made up my mind." 
 
 "Then I must make haste and get well," she 
 said, with feverish eagerness. " I shall have some- 
 thing to get well for now. Has Louis mentioned 
 any time ? " 
 
 " No, he has gone into no details whatever." 
 
 " Ah ! I expect that his happiness was enough 
 for him for the moment. I must make haste and 
 get up my strength again. There is so much for 
 me to do." 
 
 " Dear Princess," I said, " why is there so much 
 
 237 
 
238 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 for you to do? Why need you make an extra- 
 ordinary fuss about this new arrangement ? " 
 
 " My dear," she said, " you forget that there 
 has not been a Barzadiev marriage since my own, 
 and that you are going to marry the head of the 
 house. There are endless things to do. There 
 will be your apartments to entirely refurnish, 
 your trousseau to order, the jewels to be re-set, 
 the entire house to be rearranged, to say nothing 
 of the intimations to our friends, and the pre- 
 parations for the actual ceremony. There will be 
 great rejoicings all over the estates. A Barzadiev 
 cannot be married as if he were a mere notary 
 or other unimportant person, and if Louis is not 
 to be kept waiting very long, we shall have all 
 our work cut out to have things in train by the 
 time that the ceremonial day is upon us." 
 
 I half hesitated for a moment. " Dear prin- 
 cess," I said at last, " don't you think that for 
 once things might be done a little differently, 
 arranged somewhat out of the ordinary course ? Is 
 it really necessary to have so much fuss made 
 over the wedding ? Could there not be some 
 stress laid upon the fact that I am a widow ? " 
 
 "No, my dear child, that is the one thing which 
 you must not ask," she said with firmness. " I 
 know that if you ask Louis he will consent to 
 anything to please you, but the disappointment to 
 hundreds and hundreds of people would be enor- 
 mous. It would make a bad impression upon 
 everybody connected with us. You would start 
 wrong. It would be extremely bad for you to 
 have anything unusual about your marriage. You 
 see, you must not forget — at least, I cannot let you 
 forget — that you are an Englishwoman, and it 
 
MY SECOND MARRIAGE DAY 239 
 
 would probably be set down at the door of your 
 nationality if a Barzadiev, and the head of the 
 house, was to be married without the ceremony 
 which is his due and his right. Believe me, it 
 would be most short-sighted policy. Rather, under 
 the circumstances, would I advocate that you 
 should be married with even more ceremony than 
 if Louis were marrying a country woman of his 
 own." 
 
 I felt that there was reason in what she said, 
 and so my hopes of a quiet wedding died out and 
 faded away. Oh, I knew that she was right, and 
 when she mentioned my wishes and her advice to 
 Louis himself, he at once unhesitatingly declared 
 that she was perfectly wise in all that she had 
 said; so, from an existence of tranquility, almost 
 indeed of dulness, my life became most of any- 
 thing like unto a whirlwind, and truly I fre- 
 quently found myself longing for the time when 
 I should be safely on board the Kaiserin Elisa- 
 beth which we were to use for our honeymoon 
 cruise. 
 
 The improvement in the princess's health was 
 little short of miraculous. The fact of our engage- 
 ment seemed to have put new life into her. 
 "Dear child," she said to me one day, "you have 
 done me more good than all the drugs in Doctor 
 Rathalder's surgery. I told you if anything would 
 save my life it would be that you should make 
 Louis happy. Oh, my dear, it must be an untold 
 joy and satisfaction to you to think that you 
 have it in your power to make any mother and 
 son so supremely and blessedly contented as you 
 have made us." 
 
 "It is quite incredible to me that I have any 
 
240 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 such power, dear princess," I told her. On the whole, 
 she did not talk very much either about her feel- 
 ings or mine, for her time was all taken up in 
 preparations for the great event. 
 
 I had never seen the Barzadiev jewels gathered 
 together before. I had seen many jewels belong- 
 ing to the princess, but she told me that, except- 
 ing on a few State- occasions, she had not once 
 worn the family jewels since the death of her 
 husband. 
 
 "I think it is dreadful to take your jewels from 
 you ! " I exclaimed, as a couple of servants brought 
 the great chest into the boudoir. 
 
 "My dear, they are not my jewels, they belong 
 to the family. I have more jewels of my own 
 than I shall ever care to wear. They will be all 
 yours some day, and many of them will be 
 yours from this time. I don't think that any 
 woman has too much satisfaction in family dia- 
 monds and family gems ; they are not like her 
 own, that she may put into the fire if she so 
 pleases. You will only wear these for Court use 
 and on occasions of State ; they will be no per- 
 sonal satisfaction to you. I always felt the same 
 about my engagement ring. You know that ring 
 which you are wearing now has been used by the 
 affianced brides of the Barzadiev family for more 
 years than I like to tell you without consulting 
 the archives of the house. I fancy that you are 
 the twenty-third wearer. I wore it, as in duty 
 bound, myself; but it gave me no pleasure, no 
 satisfaction, and I never put it on after I was 
 married. I put it away on the morning of my 
 marriage, and it was never worn again until Louis 
 gave it to you at the time of your betrothal. I 
 
My second marriage day -> l i 
 
 made my husband give me several other rings, one of 
 which I always regard in my own mind as my 
 real engagement ring, and I expect that Louis 
 will wish to give you others that will be more 
 pleasure both to him to give and to you to re- 
 ceive than that hideous old black diamond which 
 has sealed the fate of so many Barzadiev men and 
 so many Barzadiev brides." 
 
 Of a truth, it was rather a relief to me to find 
 that the princess did regard the famous black 
 diamond as a hideous old thing. I had seen it 
 slipped on to my finger with a shudder, and in 
 my ignorance had feared that I should be compelled 
 to wear it during the rest of my life. I said 
 nothing to her, but I determined that I would 
 follow her example, and that on my wedding 
 morning I would leave it off never to wear it again. 
 
 Of rings and other jewels, the prince gave me 
 galore. Never a day went by during the whole 
 of our engagement —and it lasted for two months — 
 that he did not lavish some fresh gift or offering 
 upon me ; he gave me black sables of almost price- 
 less value, laces worth many thousands of pounds, 
 jewels of all kinds, and I do believe that I had 
 more clothes bought for me than I should ever 
 be able to wear out if I lived to be a hundred. 
 I protested from time to time that it was 
 extravagant, that it was wasteful, that it was 
 making my life a burden to me ; but it was all 
 of no use. The princess told me, and Louis him- 
 self backed her up in the assertion, that it would 
 be necessary to my position to have all these 
 belongings, and also that there were certain 
 tradespeople in Vienna, Paris and elsewhere, who 
 would expect as a sort of right to be remembered 
 
 Q 
 
242 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 in the parcelling out of a Barzadiev trousseau. I 
 felt that they could have left out nobody, that 
 none of their tradespeople could have the least 
 justification for feeling themselves aggrieved on 
 the score of having been slighted ; but the sense 
 of possession was in no wise pleasant to me, 
 rather, on the other hand, was I oppressed as by 
 an intolerable weight. 
 
 As the time for the wedding drew near, the 
 Castle of Ischelstein began to fill with guests. 
 Remembering how ill the princess had been but 
 a few short weeks previously, it was wonderful 
 to me that she could have sufficiently pulled up 
 strength again to be able to bear the great strain 
 which was put upon her at this time. I had 
 fancied that the Barzadievs were rather a small 
 family; that the mother and son stood almost 
 alone in the world and were not troubled by 
 many relations. True, there were not many who bore 
 the name of Barzadiev, but of their relations there 
 seemed to be no end. They came thick and fast ; 
 I was positively bewildered in trying to grasp the 
 different degrees of kinship. They were all titled, 
 all noble, all rich, apparently all equally powerful. 
 They came, whatever there might have been in 
 their hearts, with honeyed words on their lips 
 and valuable gifts in their hands. I was feted, 
 caressed, loaded with compliments and many marks 
 of honour, but it seemed to me that in the midst 
 of all this adulation and flattery, there was only 
 one real simple soul, the princess herself, and 
 besides her only one really well satisfied person, 
 which was my bridegroom. 
 
 I had no time for thought, no opportunity for 
 repining; no, there was not the faintest chance of 
 
MY SECOND MARRIAGE DAY 243 
 
 my being able to go back on my word. I had 
 passed the Rubicon, and whether my mind mis- 
 gave me or not, there was no withdrawal possible 
 to me. I was bound to go on, to carry my resolve 
 through to the very end. In the face of that 
 gay and brilliant assemblage, it would have needed 
 a woman with a stronger nerve than mine to have 
 done aught but carry out the compact in its 
 entirety. 
 
 Perhaps it was as well for me that there was 
 as much preparation made for the marriage as the 
 family thought needful, because I seemed somehow 
 to turn to Louis as to a haven of refuge from the 
 endless flattery and turmoil which the wedding 
 had entailed. He always spoke of the various 
 arrangements as of an intolerable nuisance, out of 
 which, unfortunately, we could not hope to escape, 
 excepting by going bravely through them. 
 
 " When we are once on board the Kaiscrin 
 Elisabeth," he said to me, a few days before that 
 of the wedding, when I was groaning under some 
 fresh tax upon my strength, "we will pass a few 
 weeks in doing nothing. We shall see nobody 
 unless we choose, we shall receive no letters except 
 by our own fault, we shall have gone away 
 perfectly secure in knowing that the mother is 
 absolutely happy and that nothing more can be 
 expected of us. Why, if it will please you, Dorothy, 
 you can wear one frock the whole time that we 
 are away." 
 
 " My dear Louis," I said, " I have had so many 
 frocks fitted on me that I feel I shall positively hate 
 every one of them when I come to wear them. I am 
 so dazzled with jewels that at the present moment 
 I feel the greatest luxury would be never to possess a 
 
244 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 jewel again. You know one may have too much even 
 of a good thing." 
 
 " Oh, my dear," he exclaimed, " there will come a 
 day when you will value your jewels like any other 
 woman. It is because all these people worry you so, 
 and everything has been rushed on in a hurry, that you 
 feel so impatient. In a few months' time you won't 
 know yourself, and you will tell me you want to go 
 to Paris because you have nothing to wear, and you 
 must have your wardrobe attended to." 
 
 " Yes, I may ; nothing is impossible. I shall never 
 believe in the impossible again," I replied with a 
 smile. 
 
 So the days went over, each one seeming to go more 
 quickly than another, because each one was more 
 filled with occupations and duties than that which 
 had gone before it. And at last my second marriage 
 day dawned. Oh ! how different it was to the other 
 one ; and yet in some things how like. There had 
 not been present at my first marriage one single 
 relation on either Eddy's side or my own. On the 
 day of my marriage to Prince Barzadiev there was 
 not present one single person, excepting my Indian 
 ayah, who had known me longer than my bridegroom 
 and his mother. 
 
 We were married in the great chapel of the castle 
 — married by a cardinal of the Church of Rome, to 
 which the Barzadievs belonged, and into which I 
 myself had been received during the period of my 
 engagement to Louis, not so much from conviction as 
 from a desire to start fair in my new life, and a 
 feeling that nothing would so far tend to make me 
 one with the new life which I was entering than 
 to have the same outward expression of religion. 
 Neither Louis nor his mother had asked or even 
 
MY SECOND MARRIAGE DAY 245 
 
 suggested that I should take this step, but I saw very 
 plainly when I first hinted at it that nothing could 
 have given them greater pleasure and satisfaction, 
 or have tended to mako my future path more 
 smooth. 
 
 Being a widow of course I did not wear the orange 
 blossoms and dress of a bride, but my gown was a 
 marvel of beauty and costliness — a triumph of the 
 dressmaker's art, a delicate shimmering grey in tint, 
 almost hidden in clouds of priceless lace, one of my 
 adopted mother's wedding gifts to me. I only wore 
 such jewels as Louis had given to me for my own, 
 and I carried a bouquet of yellow roses, which kept 
 me in mind of a little grave in the churchyard on the 
 hillside in far-away Florestella. 
 
 A marriage ceremony once begun is soon an 
 accomplished fact. Almost before I realised that I 
 was walking up the aisle of the chapel I was con- 
 scious that the ritual had come to an end, that I was 
 no longer Dorothy Hamlyn, that I was Prince Barza- 
 diev's wife. 
 
 For one wild moment when that realisation came 
 to me I was tempted to fling down the yellow roses 
 from my hands, to tear off the glittering jewels and 
 cobweb-like laces with which I was bedecked, to cry 
 that a great, an awful mistake had been made, that 
 I had not meant to go so far as this, that I had not 
 really thought what I was doing, that I belonged 
 body and soul to another man ! But in the midst of 
 a fashionable crowd one does not follow out even 
 one's most natural inclinations, and when after my 
 new husband had kissed me and murmured in my ear 
 that he was the happiest man in the world, and that, 
 God helping him, I should never repent the step I had 
 taken, and when my dear adopted mother had come 
 
246 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 in her turn and kissed me, blessing me, while her 
 kind arms were clasped about me, I came to my full 
 senses with a gasp and a shudder of remembrance. 
 I realised that there was no going back again in this 
 world, that I had come to one of those epochs in my 
 life's journey from which there could only be a passing 
 onward. 
 
 Then we went back into the castle, to stand the 
 centre of a brilliant throng of guests, to receive more 
 flattery, more adulation and many good wishes for 
 our health and prosperity. There was a great banquet 
 at which Louis and I sat side by side, when the 
 laughter and mirth ran high, to be suddenly broken 
 by an authoritative knock upon the high table. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," cried a voice, the voice of 
 the chief servitor in the establishment, " you are 
 asked to charge your glasses and to drink to the 
 future health, happiness and prosperity of their High- 
 nesses the Prince and Princess Barzadiev." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 TRANQUILITY AND CONTENTMENT 
 
 Looking back from my present standpoint, it has 
 always seemed to me that the few weeks which 
 Louis and I spent on board the Kaiserin Elisabeth 
 after our marriage was one of the most happy 
 and tranquil times of my whole life. During the 
 time that we were aboard of her we entirely shook 
 off all the irksome pomp and ceremony with which 
 we had been surrounded during the previous two 
 months, and we lived again the same simple and 
 easy existence which had been ours from time to 
 time previous to our engagement. It was, and is 
 still, surprising to me that I was able to settle 
 down into my new life with so little personal effort 
 to myself. I must lay stress upon the fact that I 
 was not in love with my husband ; and yet he 
 satisfied me. He was so thoughful for my comfort, 
 so restful, so strong. He seemed such a haven of 
 refuge from all the storm and stress of the world, 
 and I grew so to depend upon him that long before 
 our cruise was over I was fain to acknowledge to 
 myself that if I missed something of my earlier 
 experience I was yet a supremely contented and 
 fortunate woman. 
 
 He was very wise with me. He never worried 
 me with questions about the state of my feelings; 
 
 247 
 
248 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 it seemed to be enough for him in those golden days 
 of spring sunshine that I was his; it seemed to 
 be sufficient joy for him to lavish his love upon me 
 without exacting impossibilities of love on my side. 
 Before our marriage it had been one of my principal 
 fears that he might give me no peace nor rest until 
 I should be able to assure him that I really preferred 
 him to my first husband. Had he chanced to have 
 taken that course all hope of happiness would have 
 been at an end for me ; but he was wisdom, dis- 
 cretion and kindness itself. He never referred to 
 the past in any way. He took me as I was, and 
 my gratitude for his consideration was beyond all 
 expression of words. Unfortunately, in our position, 
 our honeymoon cruise could not last for ever, and 
 we were obliged at the time we had originally 
 fixed to go back to Ischelstein, there to be present 
 at many fetes given in honour of our marriage, to 
 pay and receive many visits — in short, to justify the 
 marriage as it were. 
 
 The princess struck me as a marvel of recupera- 
 tive power. We found her looking better and 
 seeming stronger than she had looked or seemed 
 at any time since I had first known her. There 
 had been some question of her leaving Ischelstein 
 and taking up her residence in one of the other 
 castles belonging to the family, but I had set my 
 face resolutely against this plan from the very 
 first. 
 
 "There is no reason, dear Princess," I said to 
 her, " that because I have married Louis you should 
 be taken out of your natural place, your real home, 
 the one part of the world you are really fond of, 
 and I warn you distinctly that if you leave Ischel- 
 stein on my account, I will never set foot in it 
 
TRANQUILITY AND CONTENTMENT 249 
 
 again. I hope that that is plain enough both for 
 you and for Louis." 
 
 "There can only be one mistress of a house," 
 said the princess. 
 
 "Oh!" I exclaimed hastily. "The mistress of a 
 little villa with half-a-dozen servants is of import- 
 ance, and her position a serious matter ; the mistress 
 of a township is quite another thing. We can 
 quite well have our separate establishments under 
 the same roof. It would be no pleasure to me to 
 use your apartments other than as I have always 
 used them, as your daughter; and as neither of us 
 has ever ordered a dinner at Ischelstein since I first 
 knew it, I don't see that we need ever fall out upon 
 that subject. At all events, I simply and flatly 
 refuse to have anything whatever to do with 
 Ischelstein if you leave it." 
 
 " But, my dear — " she began. 
 
 "No, I have never set myself up against you 
 before, dear Princess; but in this instance I must 
 and will have my own way. It is no use talking 
 to me and calling me 'my dear,' if you make me 
 feel that I have driven you out of your home, the 
 place you love. I won't have it. Louis, I am quite 
 sure, does not wish it." 
 
 " Decidedly not," said Louis, thus directly appealed 
 to. 
 
 " Why, when you consider the peculiarities of 
 the people, the charities, the little ins and outs 
 that have to be considered, it is perfectly prepos- 
 terous to think of setting down an ignorant English- 
 woman, who has lived all her life in India, to manage 
 everything." 
 
 "But what would you do if I were taken away 
 altogether ? " 
 
250 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 "Well, you see I should have no choice then, I 
 should have to do the best I could ; and how much 
 I might try Louis's patience, under those circum- 
 stances, it is impossible to tell beforehand. But 
 while you are alive and in such wonderful health, 
 I cannot see that anything would be gained by 
 your leaving your own home and going to live in 
 some unaccustomed place all by yourself. You 
 would be a continual anxiety to us ; we should 
 spend all our time trotting to and fro to make 
 quite sure that you were not dull and lonely, and 
 we should have no comfort in your society, and 
 I won't have it! So, my dear, sweet Princess, I 
 must ask you at once, now, from the very beginning, 
 not to mention this matter again, because I shall 
 never give you any other opinion, and I don't 
 want to hear anything more on the subject 
 whatever." 
 
 So she gave in to our wishes, and remained at 
 Ischelstein on precisely the same footing that she 
 had always occupied there. My position was neces- 
 sarily altered in this way. In place of Ayah I had 
 several maids, who attended wholly and solely to my 
 personal needs. I did not get rid of Ayah, of course. 
 She remained a picturesque figure, doing nothing (or 
 next door to it) with admirable grace and tact. She 
 still occupied a room somewhat near to my own ; but 
 not the actual apartment which had been hers first on 
 our arrival at Ischelstein. I had an establishment of 
 my own ; I mean my own footmen, who waited upon 
 nobody else, my own horses, carriages, coachmen, 
 grooms, and so on ; and these people were all natur- 
 ally under my immediate orders. With the conduct 
 of the house, neither the princess nor I much troubled 
 ourselves, as the vast establishment was under the 
 
TRANQUILITY AND CONTENTMENT 251 
 
 charge of a house - steward, who was responsible to 
 Louis for all plans and arrangements. We dined to- 
 gether always, and a copy of the menu was laid upon 
 my desk every morning — a similar compliment being 
 paid to the princess. I have no recollection of ever 
 troubling to make any alteration therein ; whether 
 my adopted mother did or did not was a matter of 
 profoundest indifference to me. I visited her at 
 regular times, always going to her apartments for 
 a few minutes after the ten o'clock breakfast, if she 
 had not appeared at that meal. For the rest of the 
 day our interests were in common and never clashed. 
 I was no drag upon her, and she no tie upon 
 me. 
 
 As the summer wore on and the time drew near 
 for the princess to once more take her cure at Aix, 
 the question arose as to whether Louis and I should 
 accompany her or not. For my own part I was 
 absolutely indifferent. I liked Aix as well as any 
 place I had ever been in in my life, and I was per- 
 fectly willing to go there with her if such a plan 
 would suit Louis ; but for once in his life he did not 
 seem inclined to lend himself to the plans and the 
 wishes of other people. 
 
 " I think Aix is the most detestable place in the 
 world," he said, when the subject was first mentioned 
 to him. " Could you not take some of your people 
 and put in your cure without us ? " he asked of his 
 mother. 
 
 " Most assuredly," she replied. " I know so many 
 people who go to Aix ; and it would be quite easy for 
 me to go without you two. Where do you propose to 
 take Dorothy ? " 
 
 " I have not proposed to take Dorothy anywhere. 
 There is a big shooting party at the De Furstangs, 
 
252 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 but that will come a little later on. It would be best 
 if we went to it." 
 
 " What are you wanting to do, Louis ? " I asked. 
 "I would like to go to Switzerland," he replied. 
 "And after we leave the De Furstangs, I think 
 nothing would please Dorothy so much as another 
 little tour in the yacht. Am I not about right, 
 dearest ? " 
 
 " Yes, I should like a cruise immensely," I replied. 
 "Between ourselves, Louis, I would rather, if it is 
 practicable, go for a cruise before the De Furstangs' 
 bio- shoot as well as afterwards. I should so like to go 
 right along the French coast — not the Mediterranean 
 coast, not the Riviera, but Normandy and Brittany 
 and as far as Ostend. I hate these big hotels where 
 there are always people trying to scrape acquaint- 
 ance with us. They are so trying." 
 
 "You would not like," he said, "to go over and 
 see a little of the English coast? You know, it is 
 really preposterous that you should know so little 
 of your native country." 
 
 " I don't know that I specially mind — I mean that 
 I should specially object to do so ; but England is only 
 a name to me," I replied quickly. " I know nobody 
 in England, and I don't feel in any way drawn to- 
 wards it. I will go with you there if you would like 
 it." 
 
 "We can leave that open," he said indifferently. 
 " But certainly, if you would prefer a short cruise in 
 the yacht to a tour in Switzerland, your wish is a 
 very easily-gratified one. I would much prefer it my- 
 self, but I thought you might be bored, and I did 
 not like to suggest it. Shall we take anyone with 
 
 US'?" 
 
 " Oh, no. Let us go just by ourselves ; we have 
 
TRANQUILITY AND CONTENTMENT 253 
 
 seen so much of other people. There is no tran- 
 quility, no rest in a large party, even on a yacht. 
 I would much prefer for us to go together." 
 
 So we arranged our summer. In due course of 
 time the princess went off with her own people to 
 Aix, and Louis and I, on hearing of her safe arrival 
 there, at once joined the yacht, which was lying at 
 Trieste. Louis had been rather anxious that I 
 should go overland and join her somewhere on the 
 Breton coast, but I loved the sea, and in spite of 
 the heat much preferred the longer sea journey. 
 
 So the pleasant weeks went by until it was time 
 for us to retrace our steps in order that we might 
 pay our promised visit to the De Furstangs. I do not 
 need to tell very much of my life at this time. It was 
 very gay. Visit succeeded visit, and with every day 
 that went by Louis became more and more devoted to 
 me, and his mother more tenderly attached to me. I 
 never for one moment regretted that I had consented 
 to their wishes and married Louis. I was calmly, 
 quietly, peacefully happy, and, above all things, I 
 had that tranquil feeling of assuredness which was 
 most of anything satisfying and delightful to one 
 who had suffered as cruelly and bitterly from un- 
 looked-for change as I had done in the past. I 
 never in any way thought of putting Louis in the 
 place which my first husband had occupied. When 
 I thought of him, which was very often, it was of 
 some sacred past too bright for human hopes to hold 
 on to for ever. I never talked about him, and Louis 
 never mentioned him, never spoke of him in any 
 way, asked me no questions, never sought to open 
 the door of my past love, never treated me other 
 than as if he were the first and only man who had 
 possessed my heart. I was more than glad of this, 
 
254 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 because I had never in any way sought to parade 
 the fact of my first marriage before the face of my 
 second husband. Immediately upon my betrothal to 
 Louis, I gathered together all my photographs and 
 souvenirs of Eddy and put them away. It would 
 have been terrible to me to have had to answer 
 careless questioners who might have seen them in 
 my apartments, and to me it seemed that it would 
 have been terrible to Louis to see continually before 
 him the face of his dead rival. So we had begun 
 our new life without any evidences of the old one, 
 and the only remembrance of my first love that I 
 had allowed myself to retain in daily use was that I 
 always wore a little gold ring, set with a single 
 diamond, like a dewdrop, which Eddy had bought 
 for me in Bombay on the evening before we parted ; 
 a little ring for which he had given something like a 
 couple of hundred rupees, and which he had bought 
 as a last souvenir of India, and not with any idea 
 that an immediate parting was upon us. I never 
 explained that ring, and Louis asked no questions 
 about it; indeed, I knew not then and know not 
 now whether he ever noticed that it was always 
 upon my hand. 
 
 So our life glided peacefully on, a life that was 
 peaceful, and yet very full of interests and occupa- 
 tions. We visited during that winter each one of 
 the different estates belonging to the family, the 
 princess remaining at Ischelstein, partly because she 
 thought it would be better if we went alone, and 
 partly because she was afraid to face long journeys 
 in the midst of a rigorous winter. Wherever we 
 went we were feted and belauded. Great enter- 
 tainments were got up in our honour, and we 
 came back to our ordinary every-day life again, 
 
TRANQUILITY AND CONTENTMENT 255 
 
 on my part, at all events, with sighs of satisfac- 
 tion and relief. 
 
 The following spring was taken up by visits to 
 Vienna and Paris, and when the time came round 
 again that we should think of the cure necessary for 
 the warding off of the princess's rheumatism, Louis 
 suggested to her that we should all go together to 
 Homburg, rather than that she should once more 
 take a cure at Aix. She was absolutely indifferent 
 as to her place of cure. 
 
 " I don't think that it is quite the right place for 
 me," she said to me, "because it is more for gout 
 than for rheumatism, but if we find that it does not 
 agree with me, we can very well go to Wiesbaden, 
 where I should be very near to you in case I were 
 not so well." 
 
 "From what I can gather," Louis replied to her, "I 
 believe that Homburg would suit you even better 
 than Aix, and I think you would like the place itself 
 much the better of the two. I am anxious for 
 Dorothy to see it, and I have not been there for a 
 long, long time, so that if it makes no difference to 
 you, Mother, we may as well try it for once." 
 
 " I have not been there for nearly twenty years," 
 said the princess. " I shall be delighted to renew 
 my acquaintance with the picturesque little spot. 
 Shall we then regard it as a settled thing ?" 
 
 So it was quite decided that we were to spend a 
 little time at Homburg. For myself, I cared little or 
 nothing. I was in excellent health at this time, and 
 had no need of taking a cure at either one place or 
 another. Indeed, so far as I knew, there was at this 
 stage of our life together only one thing which seemed 
 possible for us to want, and that was an heir to the 
 great house of Barzadiev; and I confess that I should 
 
256 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 have hailed the corning of such an event with untold 
 satisfaction, for it seemed to me that to give Louis 
 an heir would bo the only adequate way in which 
 I could in any sense repay him for all that he had 
 given to me. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A THUNDERBOLT 
 
 In due course of time we three found ourselves com- 
 fortably established at Ritter's Hotel, overlooking the 
 pretty little park at Homburg. Then, not a little to 
 Louis's chagrin, we discovered that he had done 
 absolutely wrong in persuading his mother to accom- 
 pany us. The place did not seem to suit her at 
 all, and the doctor who was called in to attend 
 her at once told us that we had better remove to 
 Wiesbaden. The princess, however, with that rare 
 unselfishness which so distinguished her, flatly re- 
 fused to change her quarters unless we would 
 promise that she should go alone — that is to say, 
 only with her attendants. 
 
 " I shall be quite wretched if I know that I have 
 taken you and Dorothy with me," she said to Louis. 
 " After all, the cure is a short one, and I should be 
 perfectly happy and comfortable by myself. I shall 
 be neither happy nor comfortable if I know that I 
 have altered all your plans and arrangements." 
 
 She spoke with so much decision that we did not 
 argue the point. Louis went with her to see that 
 she was suitably domiciled, and then returned to me 
 at Ritter's Hotel. 
 
 I do not know that I had ever been so much 
 
 R 
 
258 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 charmed with any place in my life as by Homburg. 
 We found many acquaintances there, and made 
 many more. We lived the same simple, everyday 
 almost commonplace existence that was lived by 
 everybody else, rising early in the morning, going 
 to bed early at night, dining most times under the 
 trees, and always sauntering up and down for a 
 while listening to the strains of the band on the 
 terrace of the Kursaal. 
 
 It was a life in which one could not be dull, and 
 yet in which there was no strain, which is, I sup- 
 pose, the reason why Homburg is such a favourite 
 place with those who live the gay life of the great 
 world. 
 
 Louis, who had only one fad regarding his health, 
 had taken it into his head at this time that he was 
 likely to develop symptoms of gout, and he re- 
 ligiously dosed himself with the waters, and went 
 through the entire treatment of the baths every 
 day with the regularity of clockwork. He used 
 to disappear from the tennis ground, or whatever 
 part we might chance to be in, and go off for a bath 
 of the wonderful pine-needles. Certainly the treat- 
 ment was good for him, and every day that we 
 remained at Homburg he became more healthy- 
 looking and more contented with himself and his 
 surroundings. Our only trouble at that time was 
 that the health of the princess began to fluctuate 
 ao-ain. It was not that Wiesbaden did not suit 
 her ; that certainly was not the case, although 
 Louis daily reproached himself that he had per- 
 suaded her to abandon her usual stay at Aix. Twice 
 or three times during each week he ran over during 
 the latter part of the day in order to satisfy him- 
 self that she was not losing ground. Once or 
 
A THUNDERBOLT 259 
 
 twice I went with him, but the princess so scolded 
 me for putting an unnecessary strain upon myself 
 that at last I gave up these trips and remained 
 quietly behind by myself. At first I had felt a 
 little lonely, for this was the first time since my 
 marriage to Louis that I had been left anywhere 
 by myself, but as the occasions went by, and I 
 became more accustomed to my surroundings, I 
 began to regard Louis's frequent absences as being 
 altogether a matter of course. Already his cure 
 had come to an end, and we had agreed that, on 
 leaving the neighbourhood, we would go to the 
 Engadine, which the doctors said would be good 
 and even necessary, both for the princess and for 
 Louis. 
 
 Then one morning there arrived an exceedingly 
 disquieting letter from the princess's head maid. 
 She wrote to Louis saying that madame had had 
 an alarming seizure of faintness the previous even- 
 ing, that is to say immediately before her letter 
 was written, that they had called in the doctor who 
 was attending her, and he advised that she should 
 communicate with her son immediately. 
 
 "Madame la Princesse," Louise wrote, "recovered 
 very quickly from the attack, much more quickly 
 than from any previous attack in which I have seen 
 her, but she still looks very drawn and very pallid, 
 and I should feel more comfortable if your highness 
 will come and see her at the earliest possible 
 moment. Madame la Princesse forbade me to com- 
 municate the news to your highness, and I humbly 
 beg of you to exonerate me from blame should she 
 be angry on finding that I have written to you. I 
 had orders to do so from the doctor, but had he not 
 so instructed me, I should have ventured to take the 
 
260 THE STEANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 matter into my own hands, as I feel it is not right 
 that your highness should be left ignorant of the 
 condition of your high-born mother." 
 
 " There is nothing for it but my going over 
 at once, Dorothy," said Louis, on receiving this 
 letter. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! You must go. But if I were you I 
 should go as if you knew nothing. I will go with 
 you, I think." 
 
 "I fancy you had better not," he said, looking 
 at me doubtfully. " My mother will realise in a 
 moment that Louise has written us a disquieting 
 letter if you go without any explanation. She was 
 so annoyed the last time that you went, because she 
 thought it was undergoing unnecessary fatigue, 
 and as we are really on the eve of rejoining her, 
 she would naturally look for an explanation as to 
 why you troubled to come over to-day. I think 
 you had better let me go alone. If I find her not 
 so well, I will remain the night ; but, of course, I 
 will apprise you if I do that. You would not mind 
 my remaining away a night, would you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I will manage to exist," I said, with a 
 laugh. "I think you are right, you know, Louis. 
 There is no need to make her nervous for nothing. 
 She is not at all nervous about herself ; but it may 
 disquiet her if she thinks that Louise is unduly so. 
 Of course, I would much prefer to go with you, but 
 I think, perhaps, under the circumstances, that it 
 would be wisest if I remained here." 
 
 So we settled it, and immediately after luncheon 
 Louis took leave of me and started for Wiesbaden. 
 By this time I had got quite accustomed to his 
 leaving me for short absences, and I set about em- 
 ploying myself quite happily and contentedly. 
 
A THUNDERBOLT 261 
 
 I had promised to take an English friend, a Lady 
 Stewart, for a drive among the picturesque pine 
 woods. She was in quest of some curious little jugs 
 — mere toys, which she had promised to take back 
 to England with her for the benefit of some small 
 nieces. 
 
 " I don't know," said she, as we started, " exactly 
 where they are to be bought, but my sister's 
 children had a few of them taken to them last year 
 by a friend who was staying here, and they were 
 most eager that I should get them some more, as 
 their doll's house was not sufficiently stocked with 
 them." 
 
 " We can easily find out," I told her. " The people 
 in the villages we are passing through will be able 
 to tell us. I am sure we shall find no difficulty in 
 meeting with them." 
 
 We made several inquiries as we drove along, but 
 either the people were very stupid or they did not 
 understand exactly what we wanted. At last, how- 
 ever, when we were both in despair, we inquired at 
 a little inn in a small stone-built village, apparently 
 the most unlikely spot in the world to find anything 
 of such a nature. 
 
 The good woman of the inn told us that if we 
 would condescend to enter she would send for a 
 neighbour who had many of these little jugs and 
 pots for sale. " If the ladies would like refreshment, 
 I can offer it," said the good woman. 
 
 We asked her what she could give us. She told 
 us we could have milk, coffee or beer, and also excel- 
 lent sweet cakes. " Let us have some coffee and 
 cakes while she fetches the woman with the little 
 pots," said Lady Stewart, in English, to me. 
 
 I was perfectly willing, and we alighted from the 
 
262 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 carriage, telling our coachman and his fellow-servant 
 to refresh themselves while we were waiting. 
 
 The busy house- wife was as good as her word. 
 She brought us very soon a delightfully homely re- 
 past, consisting of coffee, cream, delicious sweet cakes 
 and honey, and while we were partaking of it the 
 friend for whom she had sent arrived with a large 
 basket of tiny jugs and pannikins of glazed earthen- 
 ware of every conceivable shape and colour. My 
 English friend was enchanted with them. " Did you 
 ever see such darlings ? " she cried. " Why, my little 
 nieces will be wild when they see them ! Those they 
 had brought to them last year were nothing like this 
 — mere black and brown things, quite ordinary and 
 ugly. These are delicious, delightful ! Look at 
 those brilliant greens and those vivid oranges ! How 
 quaint the shapes, how charming the colouring ! 
 What dear little jugs and pannikins ! Upon my 
 word, I think I shall take a store back for my own 
 pleasure and edification ! " 
 
 I could not help laughing at her, indeed, she 
 laughed at herself as she turned over the quaint little 
 jugs with the delight of an unspoiled child, while the 
 stolid vendor herself laughed from sheer sympathy ; 
 and we picked from her great basket all that were 
 at all quaint in shape or brilliant in colouring, pay- 
 ing her in the end an absurdly low price, though I 
 fancy from her look of satisfaction as she bade us 
 good-day that she had suited her prices to the appear- 
 ance of our carriage. 
 
 As we drove home together, Lady Stewart pro- 
 fessed herself very much my debtor for the after- 
 noon's doings. " I feel quite convinced, my dear 
 Princess," she said to me, " that but for you I should 
 have gone home to England without finding out these 
 
A THUNDERBOLT 203 
 
 treasures. You see, I only speak French. In my 
 young days German was not considered an essential 
 part of a girl's education, and one is at such a dis- 
 advantage in dealing with people a little off the 
 highways if one cannot tackle them in their native 
 tongue. If I had daughters of my own, I should 
 insist upon their learning as many languages as 
 possible. I always think," she went on, "that it is 
 such a waste to set girls strumming on the piano 
 whether they have any talent for it or not. Now, 
 for my part, I never had the smallest gift of any 
 kind in the direction of music, and yet, from the 
 time I was six years old until I was eighteen — twelve 
 years of woe, twelve of the best studying years of 
 one's life — I was made every day to do a certain 
 amount of music. The result? Oh, it was pitiful. 
 An every-day school-girl of twelve years plays better 
 than I did when I gave it up for good and all, and I 
 often think that if I had had a sensible mother — I 
 do not wish to say a word against her, poor dear 
 soul, she did her best for me, I have no doubt — but 
 if I had had an enlightened mother, who would have 
 studied me a little, and found out in what direction 
 my talents lay, she would not have allowed me to 
 waste a single day on music, and she would have 
 made me put all my energies into the acquisition of 
 languages. I speak French really well," she went 
 on, " really well ; and I am quite sure that if I had 
 had the opportunity I should have spoken German 
 just as fluently and just as correctly." 
 
 " Why don't you learn German now ? " I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "Oh, my dear, it is too late in the day, much 
 too late in the day. An old woman of my age 
 does not thank you to go to school again. No, no. 
 
264 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 Girls ought to learn their lessons while they are 
 girls. When you get to womanhood and to middle 
 age, as I have done, you have other lessons to 
 learn which take up all your time. Ah, here we 
 are at home again. Oh, there is the prince ! " 
 
 I looked aside, expecting to see Louis, but instead 
 perceived that Lady Stewart was speaking of the 
 most distinguished visitor who ever sheds the light 
 of his countenance upon the pleasant little Bad. 
 
 "Now you will remember that you are dining 
 with me on the terrace to-night at a quarter past 
 seven ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I shall not forget," I replied. " Par- 
 ticularly as Louis is not here. He will not be back 
 in time for dinner, you know, Lady Stewart, in 
 any case; and it is possible I may find a telegram 
 to say he is remaining the night with his 
 mother." 
 
 " You are uneasy about her ? " she asked. 
 
 " Well, we are rather uneasy. I wanted to go 
 over, but we were afraid that it might make her 
 feel that we were unduly nervous, and that is not 
 good for her." 
 
 " You are very fond of her," Lady Stewart said. 
 
 " Oh, I am a great deal more than very fond 
 of her ! " I exclaimed. " If she had been my own 
 mother ten times over I could not love her more 
 dearly than I do." 
 
 " That is so rare," said Lady Stewart, a little 
 drily; "with us, at all events." 
 
 "Ah, yes, I daresay it is rare with everyone," 
 I replied. And a remembrance of my dear Eddy's 
 mother and the way that she had treated me years 
 ago flashed across my mind. " But, you see, Princess 
 Barzadiev and I were quite devoted to each other 
 
A THUNDERBOLT 2G5 
 
 long before there was any idea of my marrying 
 her son ; indeed, I won't say that I married 
 him to please her, but it was next door to 
 it." 
 
 "You are a very lucky woman," said Lady 
 Stewart, in a tone of firm conviction. " I think 
 most of your sisters have great cause to envy you. 
 I have never met Princess Barzadiev, but if she 
 is as charming as her son, and so fond of you as 
 you say, it must be very delightful for you." 
 
 " She is all that I say and a great deal 
 more," I made haste to reply. " Unless you knew 
 her I could never make you properly understand 
 the sweetness and light of that dear woman's 
 perfect character." 
 
 " Lucky woman ! " cried Lady Stewart, with a 
 sigh which I fancied revealed to me a good deal 
 that was not equally fortunate in her own history. 
 " Ah, here we are at my hotel. My dear Princess, 
 I have to thank you for a most charming and 
 delightful drive, and with all my heart, in my 
 little nieces' names, for this find of yours." She 
 pointed to the basket of little pots as she spoke, 
 then she got out of the carriage and Franz opened 
 the door and followed her into the house, carrying 
 her purchases with him. On the doorstep she looked 
 back : " Remember, the same table as last time, 
 and a quarter past seven. Charming people coming 
 to meet you ! " 
 
 As I expected, when I reached my rooms I found 
 a telegram from Louis saying that his mother was 
 better, but that he would remain with her for the 
 night. She sent me her love and begged that I 
 would not be at all anxious or uneasy; and if I 
 objected to his remaining at Wiesbaden he would 
 
266 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 return by the last train that night. I despatched 
 a message in reply saying that he was on no account 
 to return, that I had been for a delightful drive 
 with Lady Stewart and was dining with her, as he 
 would remember, that evening, therefore that I 
 should be amply looked after and amused. 
 
 Having despatched this, I rested for awhile and 
 glanced over the pages of a new English novel; 
 then I changed my cotton dress for a smarter one, 
 and, attended by Franz, went to keep my appoint- 
 ment with Lady Stewart and her husband on the 
 terrace of the Kursaal. 
 
 They were both there before me. " You are 
 positively the first. How punctual you are ! " she 
 exclaimed, as I joined them. "You know the 
 beautiful Lady Desborough ? She arrived in Hom- 
 burg yesterday, and she is dining with us to- 
 night." 
 
 " I have heard of her," I answered, " but I have 
 never met her. But," I added, "I love beautiful 
 people. It is always a pleasure to be in their 
 company." 
 
 "Ah, here she comes with Lord Edward Powell. 
 Now, you must let me make you known to each 
 other." 
 
 She introduced me to quite one of the loveliest 
 young women that I had ever met or beheld in my 
 life ; then several other guests made their appear- 
 ance, and our party seemed to be complete. 
 
 " Are we all here, my dear ? " asked Sir Robert 
 Stewart. 
 
 " Not yet, not yet, Robert. A few minutes grace. 
 We may as well be seating ourselves. We are only 
 waiting for a gentleman. Princess, you will sit 
 next to my husband — Lady Desborough, sit on Sir 
 
A THUNDERBOLT 207 
 
 Robert's other side — yes, that is it. Ah, here is 
 our truant ! Now, our party is complete. Lord 
 Clovelly, you are shockingly late! I had almost 
 given you up ! " 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 A FACE FROM THE DEAD 
 
 If the heavens had suddenly opened before me, and 
 a thunderbolt had fallen at my very feet, I could not 
 have been more astonished than I was to hear that 
 the name of the new-comer at Lady Stewart's dinner- 
 party was Lord Clovelly. I turned quickly to look 
 at him, that I might see what manner of man the 
 present head of my first husband's family was. 
 Judge, then, of my surprise, my consternation, my 
 horror, I might almost say my dismay, when I 
 saw standing, with his hand clasped in that of our 
 hostess — my husband ! Yes, it was Eddy — Eddy 
 himself, in the flesh, alive, well, and apparently 
 happy. I sat staring at him as I would stare at 
 one come back from the dead. I felt that every 
 drop of blood in my body had gone back helter- 
 skelter to my heart; I felt that my face was 
 blanched, my lips drawn over my teeth, my eyes 
 starting from their sockets. I could not have spoken 
 to save my life. I, Princess Barzadiev — Louis's wife 
 —Lady Clovelly— Eddy's wife ? Good God ! What 
 was I ? A thousand conflicting thoughts came beat- 
 ing into my brain in a space of time that could 
 have been no more than a moment. Like one para- 
 lysed, like one expecting to go through some terrible 
 
 2G8 
 
A FACE FROM THE DEAD 269 
 
 form of torture fast and yet slowly approaching, I 
 waited for what would happen next. 
 
 " Let me introduce you to Mrs L'Estrange," said 
 Lady Stewart, indicating the lady nearest to her, 
 " and Miss L'Estrange ; Lord Clovelly — Lady Des- 
 borough. My husband you know — Princess Barza- 
 diev on Sir Robert's other hand." 
 
 I saw Eddy bow smilingly, showing just the edge 
 of his teeth, as I had so often seen him do before, and 
 then his eyes fell upon me. If our meeting had been 
 a shock to me, it was ten times more so to him. He 
 looked at me incredulously, half screwed his blue 
 eyes up as if he could not believe the evidence of 
 what they told him, made a step forward, put out his 
 hand, looked back at Lady Stewart. " Who did you 
 say that lady was ? " I heard him mutter to her. 
 
 " The Princess Barzadiev, an Austrian princess, but 
 an Englishwoman." 
 
 I heard her words, although they were spoken in 
 a mere whisper. He put his hand up to the side of 
 his face, and pressed the ends of his fingers against 
 his temples as if trying to force his brain to take in 
 some new idea. Then he came round the table and 
 held out his hand to me. 
 
 " Princess Barzadiev and I have met before, Lady 
 Stewart," he said. Then he dropped my hand and 
 went back to the place that Lady Stewart had indi- 
 cated beside herself as his seat for dinner. I can 
 only say that I never sat through such a meal in 
 my life. I never went through two such hours of 
 mortal pain and anguish, no, not even when I saw my 
 little child lying dead and still in front of me ; not 
 even when I received that cruel sheaf of newspapers 
 which told me that I, a young girl, was a widow. 
 Not at any period of my existence, from first to last, 
 
270 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 did I ever sit through such a time of intense anguish 
 as those two hours spent upon the terrace of the 
 Kursaal at Homburg. I did not dare to look at 
 him — well, yes, I did once or twice steal just a glance, 
 but I managed to avoid meeting his eyes. I was 
 conscious that he watched me from time to time 
 closely. I, think of it, I, Dorothy Hamlyn, sitting 
 there on the opposite side of the table to my Eddy, 
 listening to the tones of his voice, occasionally catching 
 a glimpse of his face ; I, calling myself the Princess 
 Barzadiev. Heavens ! Was this some terrible dream, 
 or was I on the eve of being taken up by the roots 
 again and cast out into a world where nobody would 
 have me ? 
 
 Fortunately the English lady, Lady Desborough, 
 was gifted with a tongue ; she talked and talked. 
 Oh, how I blessed that woman for her loquaciousness. 
 I was conscious that she was chattering away to Sir 
 Robert, keeping him amply amused, telling him all 
 sorts of wicked little stories about various people 
 well known to both of them, and in whom I took 
 no interest. The man on my other hand had evi- 
 dently some kind of an affair on with Miss L'Es- 
 trange. He did not want to waste a word over me, 
 and once when he turned with an effort — with an 
 unmistakable effort — to speak to me, I whispered to 
 him not to trouble to talk to me, that I was not 
 feeling very well, and that I would not think him 
 neglectful if he talked to the lady on his other hand. 
 
 So I was left almost alone, except for an occasional 
 remark from my host, and as course after course went 
 by, and Franz served me with morsel after morsel 
 with which I only toyed, I tried to reduce the chaos 
 in my brain to something like system and order. 
 But the more I tried to think things out the more 
 
A FACE FROM THE DEAD 271 
 
 hopelessly confused did I become. Was ever any 
 woman so placed as I ? I was wife to two men, 
 Prince Barzadiev and Lord Clovelly. Louis was 
 away — Louis was with his mother ; Eddy was on the 
 other side of the table; and I — what was I? Who 
 was I ? I was wife to both of them ! What would 
 be the end of it ? What would they do ? To which 
 should I belong? Oh, dear heaven, was ever a 
 woman placed in such a position before ? I could see 
 no way out of it. I wondered if Eddy was married 
 again. Perhaps there was a wife, perhaps there was 
 a child. He had not forgotten me — oh, no. I had 
 seen in the first flash of his eyes that he was as un- 
 changed in his heart as, God help me, I was. My 
 mind went back over those days of doubt which had 
 preceded my engagement to Louis Barzadiev, those 
 days when I had wronged myself, when I had told 
 him that I had never regarded Eddy as being really 
 lost to me, that although I had believed him to be 
 dead, knew— as I thought— that he was dead, yet that 
 he had never seemed dead to me, that I had always 
 about me the feeling that some day I should find him 
 somewhere. And so my instinct had proved to be 
 true. I had found him again. I had found him, not 
 in another world, not as he left me, but here, on this 
 earth. And I had been for more than a year the 
 wife of another man ! 
 
 At last the dinner came to an end. I do not mean 
 to imply that it was an extremely long dinner, for it 
 was not so, but we seemed to sit an interminable time 
 over the coffee and ices with which it finished. Franz, 
 still standing behind my chair, inquired in a whisper 
 whether I had any commands for him. 
 
 " Yes, remain where you are," I replied. " I am 
 going home immediately." 
 
272 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 As soon as the various guests made a move I rose 
 from my chair and went round to Lady Stewart. 
 " Will you forgive me if I leave you now ? " I asked. 
 " I don't feel very well, and I would like to go home 
 at once." 
 
 " Most assuredly, though I am so sorry, dear 
 Princess," she said cordially. "Do you think the 
 drive was too much for you this afternoon ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, not at all ; I enjoyed it extremely," I 
 replied. " I am a little tired, that is all." 
 
 " Who shall go back with you to the hotel ? " 
 
 " I have my servant here," I replied. " Please do 
 not break up your party." 
 
 " Perhaps the princess will permit me to walk to 
 the end of the terrace with her ? " said Lord Clovelly, 
 in a quiet tone of intense restraint. 
 
 I bent my head. "That would be very kind of 
 you," I said, and I wondered that those standing near 
 did not notice how choked and strained my voice was. 
 
 " Yes, do ; pray, do." chimed in our hostess. " You 
 are quite sure, my dear, that there is nothing I can 
 get for you ? " 
 
 " Oh, thank you, no, nothing. I shall perhaps see 
 you to-morrow." 
 
 I shook hands with her and with her husband, and 
 with a mere gesture to the rest of the party turned 
 away, Lord Clovelly keeping his place beside me. 
 My servant walked at a little distance behind, but 
 not so near as to be able to hear what we were 
 saying. 
 
 So we two, who had parted just five years before 
 in the cabin of a P. and 0. boat, turned and walked 
 together down the terrace steps, amid one of the 
 brightest scenes in Europe. As we reached the lower 
 level Eddv broke the silence. 
 
A FACE FROM THE DEAD 273 
 
 " Doremy," he said, " what is the meaning of this ? " 
 
 "The meaning — "I turned and looked at him. 
 " Oh, the meaning — I don't know — I don't know. I 
 cannot tell you to-night. Come and see me early in 
 the morning ; ask for me at Ritter's. I shall he alone. 
 Prince Barzadiev will not be in Homburg till the 
 afternoon." 
 
 " And who is Prince Barzadiev ? " he asked. 
 
 "I don't know. I am so dazed. I — I feel be- 
 wildered. Let me go home and get accustomed to 
 this new state of affairs. I thought you were dead," 
 I said in a voice that sounded like a wail of despair. 
 "I thought that I had every proof of your death. 
 And you ? " 
 
 " I had no proof of your death, but I could find no 
 trace of you alive," he said gravely, and yet without 
 either reproach or bitterness in his tones. " I traced 
 } 7 ou to Florestella; I found the child's grave, and 
 there I lost you. I thought you must have died soon 
 after her." 
 
 We had reached the end of the terrace by that 
 time, and I stopped and stood looking up at him in 
 the brilliant lamp-light. " Go back to them now," I 
 said in a shaking voice. " To-morrow we will tell 
 each other everything. Don't tell them yet. If the 
 world has to be told what a cruel failure I have made 
 of my life and yours — and — and his, let me get out 
 of Homburg before the blow falls. Only tell me one 
 thing ; have you, too, made the same false step that I 
 have done ? " 
 
 He was holding both my hands in his firm, warm 
 clasp. " You mean have I married ? No. How could 
 I marry any other woman than yourself ? You were 
 my first, my only love. I have had no temptation to 
 put any other woman in your place." 
 
 S 
 
274 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 I felt his words sink into my heart like molten 
 lead ; and yet I was so innocent of having in any 
 sense permitted another to supplant him in my 
 affections that I was able to look him straight in the 
 eyes. " When I tell you everything," I made reply, 
 " you will not feel that I was tempted to marry again. 
 I think you will exonerate me, and forgive me for 
 what must seem to you now like faithlessness to your 
 memory. But do you go back; let me go home. 
 Come to me early to-morrow. I have so much to tell 
 
 your 
 
 " Shall I not go back to the hotel with you ? " 
 
 " No, my servant will take care of me." 
 
 " Does the fellow speak English ? " 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 He stood still a moment longer, holding my two 
 hands hard, and looking down at me with a searching 
 and eager gaze, as if he would fathom the thoughts 
 of my very soul and read there what my trembling 
 lips could not speak. " One question. How long is 
 it since you — you changed your name ? " 
 
 " Just a year." 
 
 " H'm ! And — is there — is there a — child ? " 
 
 I shook my head. " No, there has been no pros- 
 pect of another child." 
 
 I heard him mutter " Thank God ! " to himself, and 
 then he pressed my hands again, bade me good- 
 night, lifted his hat and left me. 
 
 I scarcely know what happened next. I went back 
 to my apartments, and when my women had at- 
 tended me for the night I sat down at the open win- 
 dow overlooking the park with its dark glades broken 
 by rows of twinkling lights, over which the tender 
 strains of a melancholy air came softly on the light 
 evening breeze, and I tried to realise what had hap- 
 
A FACE FROM THE DEAD 275 
 
 pened. It was useless. Think as I would, I could 
 not see light in any direction. Of course, such a 
 situation could not be hidden. In a few days' time 
 every newspaper and journal in every civilised 
 country in the world would be ringing with the 
 story of the English lady who was at one time the 
 wife of an English peer and of an Austrian nobleman. 
 I knew that nobody, not even the two men who 
 loved me, could rightly blame me. And yet what 
 position should I be in ? What could I do ? I was 
 wife to both, and, it seemed to me, that I could be 
 wife to neither. I had married Louis in all good 
 faith on a clear and honest understanding with him, 
 he full well knowing that my heart was buried, as I 
 thought, in a grave — a soldier's grave. That soldier 
 had come back, full of love ! Oh, that was plain to 
 be seen, and my heart had leapt ere it sank at the 
 sight of him. I could not remain with Prince Bar- 
 zadiev ; equally certain was it that I could not go 
 back and take up my old life with my first love. 
 Was ever a woman placed in such a position before ? 
 What could I do ? What alternative had I to take ? 
 Was there a course which would be not unfeeling and 
 unjust to one or other of these two men who loved 
 me ? Oh, there was none — none, save to go away to 
 some quiet, out-of-the-way corner of the world where 
 nobody would know my name or my wretched story, 
 and to hide myself from all human eyes; at least, 
 from the eyes of all human things who would be 
 likely to know me. I felt that I had not deserved it, 
 I felt that this new trouble which had come upon 
 me was none of my seeking, had been none of my 
 doing, and yet I must suffer, suffer it to the bitter 
 end. 
 
 I looked round, round the spacious room, with its 
 
276 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 many evidences of my hitherto serene and contented 
 life, though not the life of my highest earthly happi- 
 ness. The tokens of that life were all swept far and 
 wide, there was nothing in my apartments that could 
 remind me of that one bronze-faced, blue-eyed man 
 from whom I had just parted. It may seem almost 
 incredible, but the dominant feeling in my heart 
 during that dark hour was one almost of regret that 
 the past had been so different to what I had thought 
 it during all the years that had gone by. I was as 
 much in love with Eddy as ever. Every touch of 
 his hand, every glance of his eyes, every cadence of 
 his voice had the same old power to thrill my whole 
 being through and through, and yet I had no joy 
 in this wonderful, this unexpected meeting ; for 
 there stood beside me, during the long watches of 
 that terrible night, a vision of him who had left me 
 on the day before, who had been from first to last 
 consistently kind, courteous and loving, who would, 
 I knew, have sacrificed himself in every possible way 
 if by so doing he could have added to my welfare or 
 to my happiness. My heart all belonged to the old 
 love, but, as I sat by the window and watched the 
 twinkling lights go out one by one, my woman's 
 pity and my reason made me feel that I could give 
 myself to neither of them — these two men who loved 
 me. I felt like some weak, frail, storm-tossed child, 
 trying to reach with either hand to an impossible 
 salvation. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 TWO QUESTIONS 
 
 I HAD scarcely finished my pretence of a breakfast 
 the following morning when Lord Clovelly came 
 to see me. I was in my own sitting-room, trying 
 hard to appear as unconcerned and composed as 
 usual, and yet moving restlessly about, now gazing 
 out of the window, now staring at my own wan 
 presentment in one of the hideous pier-glasses, trying 
 to stop the throbbing of my temples by pressing 
 the palms of my hands hard against them, now 
 holding my chin hard in my hand that I might still 
 the horrible trembling of my under-jaw. And 
 through my brain there ran two questions — " Who 
 am I? What shall I do?" 
 
 It was still very early, far more early than I 
 usually received visitors, when I heard the door 
 open, and Franz came gliding across the floor to me. 
 " A gentleman is inquiring for Madame la Princesse," 
 he said quietly. " Lord Clovelly. Does Madame 
 la Princesse receive this morning ? " 
 
 I put my hand up to my chin again, and, with an 
 immense effort, replied quietly and in something like 
 my ordinary tones to the servant's question. " Oh, 
 yes, Franz, I will see Lord Clovelly. You can bring 
 him here." 
 
 277 
 
278 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 The long hours of the night which I had spent in 
 fighting with myself had taken half the strength out 
 of me. I felt, as I waited for Lord Clovelly to be 
 brought into my presence, as if I could not, even by 
 the most valiant effort, keep from fainting. 
 
 Then I heard the door open again, and the servant's 
 voice say — " Lord Clovelly." 
 
 For a moment I positively could not turn round, 
 but at last I did so, and he and I had met again. 
 All the restraint and conventional stiffness of the 
 previous evening had left him. He was no longer 
 Lord Clovelly; he was the old Eddy that I had 
 loved and who had loved me in the years that were 
 gone by. 
 
 He put out two trembling hands towards me, and 
 cried in a voice of the keenest anguish, — " Oh, 
 Doremy, Doremy, have you nothing to say to me ? " 
 
 I had nothing to say. I was dumb, speechless, 
 abashed before him. 
 
 " Why — why did you marry the other fellow ? 
 Who is this man, this Austrian prince ? How came 
 you to marry him ? How came you to forget me ? " 
 
 " I have never forgotten you ! " I burst out. 
 
 He turned and looked at me. I suppose that 
 something in my tones told him the truth, and set 
 aside all the doubts that had been torturing him dur- 
 ing the hours of the night that was past. " Do you 
 mean," he asked breathlessly — " am I to understand 
 — is it true that you are mine still, that you have not 
 forgotten me, that, although you have married, I have 
 never been supplanted in your heart ? " 
 
 " Nobody has ever supplanted you. I have so much 
 to say that I do not know where to begin. I don't 
 know how to get you told before — before — he comes 
 back." 
 
TWO QUESTIONS 279 
 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 " He has gone to see his mother, who is at Wies- 
 baden." 
 
 " Why were you not with him ? Is his mother like 
 mine ? 
 
 "Oh, no, no! If ever a saint trod the earth, 
 Princess Barzadiev has the right to that name. I 
 married him in a large measure as a payment of my 
 great debts to her. When I first knew her at Flore- 
 stella, when the child died, when I got the news of 
 your death and of Bill's death and of Lord Clovelly's 
 death, there was no thought of my marrying Prince 
 Barzadiev. He was away in Africa, I had never seen 
 him, and he had never seen or heard of me. We did 
 not meet for six months afterwards. There was no 
 thought of my marrying him or anybody. But she, 
 she did for me what no mother could have done better. 
 I lost my child and she lost hers. We two poor 
 lonely women helped and comforted each other with 
 no thought of any closer tie arising between us, and 
 when I was left desolate — Oh, Eddy, you cannot think 
 how desolate I was alone ! Even Nurse went with the 
 rest." 
 
 " How went ? " he asked. 
 
 "Died. Everybody died in that plague - stricken 
 spot — baby, Princess Elisabeth, the landlord, the land- 
 lady, Nurse Mordaunt. She sacrificed her brave life 
 as dozens of others did in that terrible time. I don't 
 know who died after we left, excepting that one of 
 the sisters wrote and told me about Nurse Mordaunt. 
 I got the news of your death at Venice. Princess 
 Barzadiev took me on board her yacht as soon as her 
 daughter was buried. Oh, she was so good ! She 
 offered to turn back, to take the first steamer from 
 Brindisi, to take me out to India. But what would 
 
280 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 have been the good ? I had nowhere to go ! No 
 money — well, something like three hundred pounds 
 — no friends, no home, no husband, no child. I was 
 stranded, desolate, distracted, stunned by my loss and 
 by all that I had gone through. And when she asked 
 me to give the rest of my life to her, to let her take 
 the place of my mother ; when she asked me to take 
 the place of the dear daughter she had left sleeping 
 next to our baby at Florestella, what else was I to do ? 
 What better course could I have taken ? How was I 
 to know that such a horrible mistake had been made ? 
 How was I to look forward to anything like this ? " 
 
 "But, my dear child," he said, looking at me in- 
 credulously, "did it never occur to you that I had 
 money ; that I had made a will, leaving all my earthly 
 possessions to you ? " 
 
 " No, I never thought of money." 
 
 " Did it never occur to you that if I had fallen in 
 action you would be entitled to a pension ? " 
 
 " Blood money ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Nay, dear, not blood money, but your right." 
 
 " My right ! " I repeated questioningly. 
 
 " Yes. How was it that you, or nobody about you, 
 ever thought of claiming that ? " 
 
 "I never thought of it. . . . I never thought of it 
 from the moment I had the news of your death until 
 you now put it into my mind. You see, I was so 
 stunned. For months and months my brain seemed 
 as if it would not think or act. I never cried for you, 
 Eddy, not one tear. I never felt, somehow, that you 
 were dead; and when, to save Princess Barzadiev's 
 life, I reluctantly consented — after he had been three 
 years patiently waiting for me — to marry her son, I 
 told him then that I had never realised your death ; 
 that I had always the feeling that, if I struggled on 
 
TWO QUESTIONS 281 
 
 through this world, I should find you somewhere up 
 yonder — somewhere or other. Oh, you must not 
 blame me ; you must not reproach me that I did not 
 turn my thoughts, as soon as I knew that I was left 
 to my own devices, to making money out of your 
 death ! I never thought of it. They were so rich ; 
 money was nothing to them. Mjr love was everything 
 to this heart-broken mother, and her protection was 
 everything to me. It was the only ray of light that 
 fell across my path." 
 
 " I am not reproaching you," he said gently. " I 
 only asked you a very natural question. It is a 
 thought that would have occurred to most people ; 
 it was the one thing that made me believe that you 
 must have died in that fever-stricken little Flore- 
 stella. I found that you had not even applied to 
 the War Office for official confirmation of my death. 
 It is natural that I should think that nothino- but 
 death would have prevented you from making some 
 communication or other with me." 
 
 "But I had the proof," I exclaimed. "I saw the 
 proofs a dozen times. First the news that Bill 
 was dead and that you were dangerously wounded; 
 then that you had died of your wounds." 
 
 " But that was poor Bill," he put in. 
 
 "But he was reported as killed in the engage- 
 ment." 
 
 "No, no; he was brought in as dead, but, as a 
 matter of fact, he lived for some hours after the 
 fight." 
 
 "Then I saw afterwards that Lord Clovelly had 
 been stricken down and had died on hearing the news 
 of his son's death. I never saw any contradiction of 
 the report of your death, and everything seemed to 
 confirm its truth. Why," I continued, "we had 
 
282 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 actually an Englishman staying at Ischelstein who 
 had known poor Bill, and who told me that the 
 present Lord Clovelly was some distant relative." 
 " And who was that ? " 
 
 " Oh, a Colonel Wyndham He was attached to 
 the British Embassy in Vienna at the time." 
 " What, Wyndham of the 1st Life ? " 
 " Yes, I suppose so." 
 
 " I met Wyndham only the other day in St 
 James's Street. And you say that he knew you 
 as Mrs Hamlyn ? " 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And knew that you were one of my family ? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Did he mention it ? " 
 
 " Yes, I told him whose wife I was, how you 
 had died in the same expedition as young Bill, 
 and I told him not to mention me to any member 
 of the Clovelly family. You know, Eddy, they 
 were not kind to me. Your mother was hateful 
 to me, none of your people were in the least nice 
 to me, excepting that poor boy, and I felt that, 
 having lost you, I would rather die than be be- 
 holden for so much as a kind word to one of them. 
 And so I told him that, if he saw any of the 
 Clovelly family, he was not to say that he 
 knew a Mrs Hamlyn living in Styria. Oh, Eddy, 
 Eddy, if you could know what I feel like at 
 this moment! To think that I, by my own act, 
 had deliberately blocked the way to our coming 
 together again. You have not reproached me, but, 
 oh, if you could know how bitterly, bitterly, I 
 reproach myself ! " 
 
 " Reproaches will do no good to either of us," 
 he returned. "They would make the situation 
 
TWO QUESTIONS 283 
 
 more difficult, and several people very unhappy. 
 What is the good of them ? Besides, there is one 
 thing that you forget, my Doremy, or that you 
 have not yet realised, that although you have un- 
 wittingly married another man, you are my wife 
 as legally and as honestly to-day as you were five 
 years ago when we parted at Bombay. What 
 you have done in ignorance and inadvertence, and 
 in good faith, has not undone what you and I 
 did at Simla seven years ago. You are my wife 
 still, I am your husband. If you had forgotten 
 me, if you had learned to love the other chap 
 better, then the complications would be horrible, 
 but, as I understand it, you have not changed 
 towards me at all, any more than I have changed 
 towards you." 
 
 " But what of him ? " I asked, in a scarcely 
 audible voice. 
 
 " Of Barzadiev ? He must be told." 
 
 "Yes, he must be told. I have always been 
 honest with him. I am not going to begin 
 being dishonest and underhand now. And yet, 
 to leave him and simply go back to my life with 
 you, why, it is impossible ! I could not do such 
 a thing." 
 
 " If you love me — " he began. 
 
 "No, Eddy, no. If I did not love you, it 
 would be far easier. It is because I do love you, 
 because I have always loved you — loved you, oh, 
 with my whole heart and soul, with every fibre 
 of my being — that I cannot turn my back upon 
 the man who came in the blackest hour of my 
 life, who gave me the shelter of his honourable 
 name, and put his great heart between me and 
 a world that I was horribly afraid of." 
 
284 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 "But you would not, from some mistaken sense 
 of duty, go back to him, remain with him?" he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "Oh, how can you ask me such a question? 
 How can I, in the face of things as they are 
 now, be anything to either of you ? Why, I 
 am wife to both — I am wife to neither — I can 
 can be wife to neither! That I love you as I 
 do, as you must see for yourself I do, makes no 
 difference. I have to consider my honour and 
 my good faith before my love, and even before 
 yours." 
 
 He broke away from me and began to pace up 
 and down the room. "Who is to tell Barzadiev?" 
 he asked, suddenly pausing and standing in front 
 of me. 
 
 "I will tell him; it will come best from me. 
 You had better remain in Homburg until I send 
 for you. I think he will probably wish to see 
 you; at all events, you will not refuse to see him 
 if he does? We must consider him before our- 
 selves, Eddy." 
 
 "Poor devil, yes. There, I beg your pardon, 
 Doremy, I ought not to have spoken of him like 
 that; and yet the words slipped out, because, after 
 all, it is the worst for him." 
 
 "Before we were married," I said, "I made a 
 kind of bargain with him, that under no cir- 
 cumstances should he ever reproach me with my 
 dead love for you — no, I mean with my love for 
 you whom I thought to be dead, for my love 
 had never died, never! And he told me then 
 that he had never felt such sympathy for any 
 human being in his life as for you. Yes, really, 
 he did say that, and he has lived up to it. 
 
TWO QUESTIONS 285 
 
 Many a man who knew that my heart was 
 buried in a grave would have troubled me about 
 the past; would have gone on worrying and 
 protesting and asking questions, until he re- 
 ceived the assurance that he was the most 
 loved of the two. He has never done that : 
 he has been true to his word from first to last, 
 from beginning to end. I love you the best, 
 but my respect and my affection for him are 
 almost too sacred to speak of, even to you." 
 
 He stayed a long time with me, talking over 
 all the possibilities that the future might hold, 
 making suggestions, finding out loop - holes by 
 which I might go back to him with something 
 like honour; but one by one, 1 disposed of them 
 all. One might have thought that I was eager 
 not to set the time back and sun myself once 
 more in a glory of happiness, but it was not for 
 that reason that I so strenuously held out against 
 each and every suggestion that his brain could 
 devise. 
 
 "I can do nothing, arrange nothing, and consent 
 to nothing until I have told him all," were my last 
 words. 
 
 It may seem strange, but it was by the greatest 
 effort that I once or twice spoke to my husband 
 by his Christian name. My instinct was to treat 
 him as a stranger, to call him " Lord Clovelly." I 
 had a curious sense about me of reserve and 
 strangeness. He, on the contrary, slipped back, 
 after the first few minutes, into precisely the old 
 terms of speech and endearment. 
 
 "Doremy," he said, when we parted, "you have 
 not kissed me." 
 
 Instinctively I drew back. " No, don't ask me 
 
286 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 to do that until everything is settled. I shall get 
 through my task more bravely if I have been fair 
 and honest towards the man who believes that I 
 am his wife." 
 
 He understood me, and, bending down, kissed 
 my hands. " You will send for me ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes, as soon as there is anything to tell 
 you." 
 
 "And you will remember that I have been 
 mourning you, regretting you, hungering for you 
 during five long years ? " 
 
 " I will not forget it," I replied. 
 
 So he went away. 
 
 Franz came, bringing me flowers which some 
 man or other had brought for me, and then told me 
 that luncheon was served in the adjoining room. 
 I sat down and looked at it, but I ate nothing, 
 for a single mouthful would have choked me. 
 Franz was politely distressed. 
 
 " I am not very well. I cannot eat," I told 
 him. "Take it away, don't trouble me with it." 
 
 So I went back and wandered up and down 
 the salon, waiting restlessly, and yet impatiently, 
 for the time when Louis would return. What 
 should I say to him ? How should I find words 
 in which to tell him ? What would be the end 
 of it all? Was I glad? Was I sorry? I did 
 not know. 
 
 I looked forward — all was black, black as night; 
 dark, lowering, impenetrable clouds seemed to have 
 come thick and fast upon me, and only one thing 
 was inevitable — that again I was to be the sport 
 of fate; the ball of chance and mischance, tossed 
 from one to the other without any will - power 
 of my own. I was to be taken up by the roots 
 
TWO QUESTIONS 287 
 
 and hurled out into the world yet once again. 
 What would be the end of it all ? Who was I ? 
 Lady Clovelly, or the Princess Barzadiev ? 
 
 Those were the two great questions which 
 troubled me,—" Who am I ? What shall I do ? " 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 LEFT ALONE 
 
 It was nearly four o'clock when Louis returned 
 from Wiesbaden. He came into the salon with a 
 laughing reproach upon his lips. " Are you really 
 here and alone ? " he asked. " How was it, then, 
 that you did not come down to the station to 
 meet me ? You are beginning to neglect me, 
 Dorothy." 
 
 I turned to meet him. Some instinct told him 
 that something had happened. He made a step 
 towards me. "Dorothy, my dearest! What has 
 happened ? Something has gone wrong with you. 
 You are ill." 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " something has happened ; some- 
 thing has gone wrong, something is amiss. I don't 
 know how to tell you what it is." 
 
 " But how — what is it — what can have happened ? 
 I only left you yesterday. Tell me quickly. 
 Don't spin it out — don't break it to me." 
 
 " I don't know how to tell you," I cried, trembl- 
 ing in every limb. " I cannot break it to you. I 
 can only tell you the truth — brutally, and almost un- 
 feelingly." 
 
 " But what is it ? " he asked anxiouslv. 
 
 288 
 
LEFT ALONE 28? I 
 
 "I went to dine with the Stewarts last night 
 on the terrace of the Knrhaus." 
 
 " Yes," impatiently. 
 
 " And among the guests was — Lord Clovelly." 
 
 " Lord Clovelly ? What, the head of the Hamlyn 
 family ? " 
 
 " Don't you understand ? " 
 
 " No. Do I understand what ? Had you never 
 seen him before? Was there anything extra- 
 ordinary about him ? " 
 
 " Yes," I said, " I had seen him before. Don't 
 you see what I mean ? I — I — had believed him to 
 be dead." 
 
 " What ! " 
 
 " Yes, it is quite true." 
 
 He looked at me incredulously. "Do you mean 
 that Lord Clovelly is your first husband ? " 
 
 I had no words in which to reply. I only 
 looked at him, but my eyes told him the pitiful 
 truth. 
 
 " Then you — I — what am I ? Who are you ? 
 What does it all mean ? My good Dorothy, am I 
 dreaming ? " 
 
 " What does it all mean ? It means that I have 
 been deceived, not wittingly, but by an extra- 
 ordinary chain of accidents and of evidence that 
 seemed too circumstantial to doubt. It means 
 that I in my turn deceived you ; that I have 
 been the victim of the most cruel mischance, and 
 you of the most cruel fate that ever befel any 
 man." 
 
 "But you are the wife of both of us?" he 
 cried. 
 
 "I am not your wife, Louis," I answered piti- 
 fully. " I am his lawful wife, his legal wife." 
 
 T 
 
290 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 "You are not mine? You are not Princess 
 Barzadiev ? He can take you away from me ? " 
 
 " It is not a question of taking me away. It 
 is rather a certainty that I can be nothing to 
 either of you." 
 
 " And he has never married ? ' 
 
 " No." 
 
 "And he loves you still? Oh, of course, he 
 does, I need not ask such a question. Who that 
 had known you once, and possessed you, could 
 cease to love you, could cease to regard you as the 
 pole-star of his existence ? What did he say % 
 What did he do? Why don't you tell me every- 
 thing ? " 
 
 I sat down upon the nearest couch, and drew 
 him to sit beside me. In truth, my limbs were 
 shaking so that I could no longer stand. So there 
 we sat together, and I told him as far as I could 
 do everything that had happened the previous 
 evening, and during my conversation with Lord 
 Clovelly that morning. 
 
 "You will remember, Louis," I said, when I 
 had told him the whole tale from beginning to 
 end, "you will remember that day at Ischelstein, 
 when I reluctantly consented to become your 
 wife, that I told you that I had never been 
 able to shake off the feeling that I should find 
 my husband again somewhere — some day. I 
 thought that he was dead; I thought that it 
 would be up yonder that I should find him. I 
 had no hope, no suspicion, that he might be 
 still alive and looking for me, and yet I had 
 never realised that he was dead. I had left him 
 strong and well, in the very pride and bloom 
 of his manhood. He had never seemed dead to 
 
LEFT ALONE 291 
 
 me, as he would have done had I Seen him die 
 with my own eyes. You remember my saying 
 that ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I remember everything." 
 
 " For years he has believed me dead, as I thought 
 him. As soon as he was free of the Service he went 
 to Florestella to seek tidings of me, to be met on 
 all hands by tales of death, disease, disaster and 
 woe. The landlord of the hotel where we stayed 
 — he was gone, his wife, the nurse, the doctor also 
 — one by one those who had known me had died 
 in that plague-stricken spot, and there was no 
 record of my stay beyond my name in the hotel 
 books as having gone there on a certain date, 
 and my little child's name in the books of the 
 graveyard, where she lies sleeping. There was no 
 trace of my leaving Florestella. How should there 
 be, for, as you know, I left on board the Kaiserin 
 Elisabeth. I left under the shelter of your mother's 
 passport, and my own name never appeared. No- 
 body asked, nobody cared to know where we were 
 going. We were going on to the yacht. There was 
 no time for little formalities such as tracing the 
 personality of every person mentioned in the pass- 
 port; the authorities were only too glad to see the 
 last of us, for fear that a woman of your mother's 
 rank should die in Florestella and have her name 
 blazoned all over Europe, her name and her tribu- 
 lation. They were only too anxious to hide every- 
 thing, only too eager and willing to help us to take 
 flight. So, as he could find no trace of me, he be- 
 lieved that I, too, was dead, especially as I never 
 sought any official confirmation of his death. It 
 all came through the mistake which arose between 
 his name and his cousin's in the despatches con- 
 
292 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 cerning the killed and wounded. Almost his first 
 question to me was to ask why, believing that he 
 was dead, I had not made good my claim to his 
 property and to the pension to which I should have 
 been entitled in the event of his death ? I never 
 thought of it. I told him so. With regard to his 
 property, well, I was so stunned, so broken by my 
 losses, that I never gave so much as a thought to 
 it. And money never seemed to enter into your 
 mother's calculations one way or the other. As 
 for a pension; why, it would have seemed like 
 blood -money ! I ought to have thought of it. If 
 I had been a little older, I probably should have 
 thought of it; and we should have been spared — 
 you would have been spared all this pain, this 
 dreadful revelation and upheaval which has come 
 upon you now." 
 
 He made a fierce gesture of his arm, as if I 
 need say nothing more about that. "Don't re- 
 proach yourself," he said brokenly. "You acted 
 in all good faith, and we persuaded you, my 
 mother and I, against your will. I shall tell Lord 
 Clovelly that when I go to see him." 
 
 " You are going to see him ? " 
 
 "Yes; I shall go now. I think that I had 
 better send for my mother. She will know what 
 to do for you. I cannot have you go out into 
 the world friendless, with nobody who understands 
 your nature. Or have you made up your mind 
 that you will go back to the husband to whom you 
 rightly belong?" 
 
 "No," I said, "no, I shall not go back. I told 
 him so. I have in a sense wronged you both, 
 failed you both, failed myself most of all; but I 
 will be just and true to each of you, whatever it 
 
LEFT ALONE 293 
 
 costs me. If your mother would come to me — 
 perhaps she won't — it would help me through this 
 terrible time, even if it was only for a little while. 
 I would be so grateful." 
 
 "I will send for her. I will only ask you one 
 question before I go to despatch a message to her 
 and seek out this — this rightful husband of yours. 
 You have been contented, almost happy with 
 me ? 
 
 I turned and put my hands into his. "Louis," 
 I said earnestly, "if it is any comfort for you to 
 know it, I have been more than contented as your 
 wife. I cannot help loving him best, because he 
 was the first, and you cannot undo what is done, 
 but I would rather that things had been as I 
 believed them to be all along — and yet — Oh, no, 
 no, it is not quite the truth to tell you that; I 
 could not help my heart leaping at the sight of 
 him. It is best to be honest with you ; you have 
 made me happy, you have made me content, you 
 healed my broken heart as nobody else in the 
 world could have done, and all that I can do for 
 you, all that I have been able to do for you, has 
 been to ruin your life." 
 
 "We won't talk about that," he said bravely. 
 "If you have ruined my life, Dorothy, it is by no 
 conscious act of yours. I cannot allow you to 
 speak of yourself so. To me you are, as you 
 have always been, the best and dearest woman 
 that the world holds. Don't abuse yourself. It is 
 not necessary. I go to send for my mother." 
 
 He kissed my hands as the other one had done, 
 and I was once more left alone, and for the next 
 hour I remained alone, and in a dazed state of 
 wretched waiting. One of my women came and 
 
294 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 brought me some tea, which I drank with feverish 
 thirst. Then Louis came back again, told me that 
 he had seen Lord Clovelly, that he agreed with 
 him that the princess was the only person who 
 could succour me at that time. " He is a fine 
 fellow, that husband of yours," said Louis, with 
 a generosity which was all his own. " I don't 
 wonder that you were so reluctant to put anyone 
 in his place. He agrees with me fully that you 
 could not go back to him at present; and yet, as 
 I told him, it falls terribly hard upon him to find 
 his wife after so long a time, and to have no joy 
 in the reunion. I feel as if when my mother 
 comes that she will be able to see some way out 
 of the difficulty, some way by which you can 
 eventually go back to him. After all, why should 
 three lives be wrecked where two, at least, might 
 be perfectly happy ? " 
 
 "I will abide by what the princess advises," I 
 said in a low tone. " What she tells/ me to do I 
 will do. I know that she will advise me rightly. 
 You will meet her when she comes ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You will tell her everything? You won't leave 
 it to me ? It was bad enough that I had to break 
 it to you. You will tell her for me ? You won't 
 let her blame me ? She will understand my 
 situation." 
 
 " My mother will understand you," he replied. 
 "She will be here at nine o'clock. But you will 
 remember that she is frail and delicate — but there, 
 I need not tell you how to treat her." 
 
 I did not see either of them again that evening, 
 I mean either Prince Barzadiev or Lord Clovelly. 
 At the usual time I went and sat down at the 
 
LEFT ALONE 295 
 
 dinner table, and forced myself to take some soup 
 and wine, for I was fast becoming faint and 
 exhausted, and at nine o'clock my dear princess- 
 mother arrived. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 WAITING — AND THE END 
 
 Foe the first time since the news had come to me 
 I was able to give way and lean upon somebody 
 else. Neither in the case of Prince Barzadiev or 
 Lord Clovelly had I dared to show a sign of the 
 white feather, because I felt that any sign of 
 weakness on my side would double the pain and 
 anguish that each was suffering; but when my 
 dear adopted mother came — came with all her 
 woman's heart in her dear eyes, came with arms 
 outstretched and caught me close to her tender 
 heart, I knew that I had found a haven which had 
 never failed me and which would never fail me 
 in this world. 
 
 " My poor child ! My dear, dear Dorothy ! " she 
 cried in accents of the most tender pity, "I shall 
 never cease to reproach myself for this new trial 
 which lias come upon you. Louis has told me 
 everything. My poor child! One cannot feel 
 sorry, and yet, the pity of it all is so great. Oh, 
 my dear, to think of the years of your young 
 life wholly wasted — to think that we who loved 
 you, we who had no wish but for your best and 
 truest interests, should have persuaded you into 
 
 296 
 
WAITING — AND THE END 297 
 
 a step which has brought ruin and disaster upon 
 all of us. Yes, I know — Louis has told me. There 
 is the poor husband not daring to rejoice in having 
 found you again, and my poor boy, who has lost 
 you. It is only I who can remain feeling towards 
 you as in the beginning." 
 
 "And you do, Princess? You do, Mother?" I 
 cried. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, of course I do. It is sad for 
 both of them, but it is far sadder for you. But 
 you are right — you could not go back — not as things 
 are at present. My dear, you have always the 
 right instinct, and your instinct was right when you 
 held out so long against marrying Louis. We ought 
 to have trusted that instinct of yours, it was un- 
 erring; but since we would have our way, he and 
 I, we must stand aside now and think only of you. 
 Louis is a man — it is a great trial, the greatest and 
 most terrible that could have come upon him — but 
 he is a man, and men must be strong and bear. 
 For the other, he must wait for you a little longer, 
 until your own feeling shows you what you ought 
 to do, what is the best and the most right for 
 you to do. And for me, darling child, I am at 
 your service. We have stood by each other too 
 long, you and I, Dorothy, to desert each other now. 
 We will go away, you and I — we will leave these 
 two strong men to fight out their trouble by them- 
 selves, and you and I will protect and help each 
 other." 
 
 " But, dear Mother," I said, " will you answer me 
 one question — Who am I ? " 
 
 "My dear," she said, "there is no question as 
 to who you are. You are Lord Clovelly's wife — 
 you are Lady Clovelly. Your marriage to my 
 
298 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 son was an accident. It is null and void; it is 
 no marriage. Louis will have to see his lawyers; 
 he will have to have everything put upon a proper 
 legal footing, for the sake of yourself and your 
 future, and of his family. But you are Lady 
 Clovelly. When we go away from this, you muso 
 bear that name ; it is your own, and the whole 
 world will have to know it ; the whole world must 
 know it, ought to know it. It is imperative that 
 the world knows it," she added with great decision, 
 "and there is nothing to be ashamed of. It is a 
 misfortune for which the whole civilised world will 
 pity each one of us. But there is no blame that 
 can be attached to you. If there is any blame 
 it is attached to me — to Louis — for we two per- 
 suaded you — nay, we did more than that, we over- 
 persuaded you to take a step against your instinct, 
 against your better judgment — I might say almost 
 against your natural inclination." 
 
 " And what will become of Louis ? " 
 
 "My dear, we will go, you and I, to some quiet 
 place where we can await events as they arise. I 
 will take some chateau in a neighbourhood where 
 we are not known, and we will stay there until 
 everything has been put right with the lawyers. 
 That is necessary; that is your plain duty so far 
 as Louis is concerned. After that, we can shape 
 our plans according to our wishes, and according 
 to what seems wisest to us both at the time. Louis 
 will make his own plans. You and I know him 
 well enough to feel that he can be trusted to make 
 them wisely and to follow them bravely." 
 
 I knew that her words were wise, as I knew that 
 her heart was right, and it was comfort unspeakable 
 that I, who was right in the course which I had 
 
WAITING — AND THE END 299 
 
 marked out for myself, should have this brave, 
 patient and tender woman to walk beside me and 
 hold my hand along a way which was bitter, a 
 way which was apparently hopeless. I felt more 
 brave, more patient, more safe. I felt as if I had 
 strength and courage to live on to the end, what- 
 ever that end might be. 
 
 We left Homburg the next day, she and I, 
 travelling by easy stages as far as Munich, in 
 which place it seemed to the princess that we 
 could most readily find retreat for a time, and 
 yet be within reach of the lawyers in Styria. I 
 saw both Louis and Lord Clovelly before we de- 
 parted. To the one I said good-bye, practically 
 for ever, to the other I could only say that for the 
 present I felt that it was best that everything 
 should stand in abeyance. 
 
 "But the princess tells me that you will take 
 your own name again?" he said. 
 
 " Yes, I will do that," I replied. " It is my name, 
 and, of course, I have no right to the one under 
 which you met me the other evening." 
 
 "And, Doremy," anxiously, "you are not going 
 away, leaving me quite without hope? You will 
 come back to me some day ? " 
 
 "I don't know," I replied. "I can say nothing 
 definitely. I must have time to let things arrange 
 themselves a little. Not even for you can I do 
 anything which will pain either of those two." 
 
 So we parted, and the princess and I set off on 
 another stage of life's journey together. At Munich 
 we settled for an indefinite time, the princess having 
 secured a beautiful villa just on the outskirts of 
 the town. We passed, on the whole, a very dull 
 and dreary existence, for we saw no visitors, and 
 
300 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 our only interests lay in the news which came to 
 us through the newspapers and the post. Eddy 
 wrote to me every day, giving me the fullest 
 details of his life, his hopes, his thoughts, his 
 doubts and fears. Louis never wrote to me at 
 all, but he very often did to his mother, and several 
 times lawyers came to and fro with papers that 
 it was necessary I should sign. 
 
 Then Louis wrote and told his mother that he 
 had made up his mind, as he could not bear the 
 desolation of Ischelstein, to go to North America 
 on a big shooting expedition. "Nothing is so 
 likely," he wrote, "to take me out of myself as 
 complete change of scene and of occupation. I 
 know that my dear love is safe with you, and, 
 if you can spare me, I shall make my preparations 
 for leaving immediately." 
 
 It is needless to say that the princess not only 
 consented, but she willingly concurred in this de- 
 cision. And so time went on until nearly a year 
 had gone by since the last and greatest upheaval 
 of my life had happened. 
 
 After this our life together was even more dreary 
 than it had been before. From time to time, 
 though at very irregular intervals, Princess Barza- 
 diev had news of Louis, and at last he wrote to her 
 making a definite suggestion on my behalf, which 
 was to me the strongest possible confirmation of 
 the noble and unselfish love which he bore me. 
 
 "I wish that you would say to Dorothy," he 
 wrote, " that every day I live I feel how hard it is 
 upon Clovelly that he should be kept away from 
 her. After all, there is no reason that the man who 
 has the best claim to her, the first right, and a love 
 for her equal to my own, should be kept at arm's 
 
WAITING — AND THE END 301 
 
 length out of a feeling of delicacy towards me. 
 Will you show this letter to Dorothy ? I think that 
 she will understand me when I say that I do not 
 make this suggestion from lack of love, but rather 
 the contrary." 
 
 " I have been waiting for this," said the princess, 
 when I had come to the end of her son's letter. " I 
 knew that Louis would see things sooner or later 
 in their true and right relation. It is not just to 
 Lord Clovelly that you should be kept apart any 
 longer. You love each other, you have always 
 loved each other. My son is perfectly right in all 
 that he says. If you will allow me, I will send for 
 Lord Clovelly and give you to him myself, in 
 Louis's name. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " I cried. " Why should I put you to 
 such pain ? " 
 
 " Nay, dear child," she said, " you forget that I 
 am Louis's mother. It will be one of the proudest 
 moments of my whole life." 
 
 So we came together again, Eddy and I, by the 
 wish and at the hands of my adopted mother, 
 Princess Barzadiev. He came to Munich to fetch 
 me, and from there we made a long tour, passing 
 through many lands, making few acquaintances, 
 livino- wholly and solely for each other. 
 
 I wrote to my dear princess constantly, and learned 
 from her that Louis was back at Ischelstein, and 
 that he was bearing his life more bravely than even 
 she had anticipated. 
 
 Then, when there seemed to be some prospect of 
 an heir to the old West country name, we turned 
 our steps towards England, and in due course of 
 time a little son was born to us, whom we named 
 
X 
 
 302 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 after that brave and unselfish soul who had loved me 
 §o dearly and yet so unfortunately. 
 
 I will not say that my life was without shadow. 
 I was happy— oh, yes ; and yet there were days in the 
 year, sacred anniversaries, in which I felt that my 
 husband had no part. There were times when he 
 lavished all the wealth of his love upon me, when 
 I felt that, although his love might equal, it could 
 never outshine that other which stood alone outside 
 the zone of my life. 
 
 So the tranquil years rolled on, and with every one 
 my adopted mother found her way to Clovelly, and 
 sojourned with us for a little while. Every time 
 that she came I hoped that she might bring the 
 news that Louis had found happiness elsewhere ; but 
 he never did so. He passed to and fro in different 
 parts of the world, sometimes going to the wildest 
 and most outlandish spots in search of big game, 
 sometimes spending a season at Ischelstein; but he 
 made no effort to remodel his life in a domestic sense, 
 he never seemed to think of filling the place which I 
 had held with another. 
 
 One by one little human flowers bloomed out in 
 the old west country home, little golden-haired 
 blue-eyed creatures, all Hamlyns every one of them, 
 bright little souls, who called Princess Barzadiev 
 granny, and must have made her heart ache, though 
 she hid the fact like a martyr. Only once did she 
 ever betray to me anything of what must often have 
 passed through her mind. " Ah," she said, " if we 
 had only one of these at Ischelstein ! " 
 
 So the strange story of my life drew to a close, 
 and became lost in the obscurity of a perfect and 
 idyllic happiness. 
 
 It happened one golden August day when we were 
 
WAITING — AND THE END 303 
 
 alone at Clovelly, excepting for the children in the 
 nursery, that I received a letter from my princess - 
 mother. " I am greatly afraid, dearest child," she 
 wrote, " that I shall not be able to pay my visit to 
 you this year. I am uneasy about Louis. Since his 
 return from his last trip to South Africa, he has 
 seemed singularly unlike himself, and I should not 
 like to leave him as he is at present. He is not ill, 
 but he is troubled by a kind of low fever, which is 
 intermittent and strangely persistent. When I say 
 he is not ill, I mean that he is not laid up. He 
 goes about very much as usual. The doctors have 
 recommended him to try several places in order to 
 get rid of this South African legacy. We are start- 
 ing for the high Alps early next week. He laughs 
 at my fears, says that I ought to have seen him 
 when out lion-hunting and speechless from ague. I 
 am very glad that I did nothing of the kind. I 
 have no wish to see him in any worse health than he 
 is at present. The doctors tell me that I am not to 
 be uneasy, yet there are times when he reminds me 
 so much of my dear Elisabeth that my heart fails me 
 altogether." 
 
 I think that my husband saw from my face that 
 there was no good news in the princess's letter. He 
 took it from me, and read it, with only two words of 
 comment as he laid it down again. " Poor chap ! " 
 he said. 
 
 That was the beginning of the end. The princess 
 and her son moved during that winter persistently 
 from place to place. She wrote to me continually, 
 always telling me the same thing — that Louis would 
 not own to being ill, that he always laughed at her 
 fears. 
 
 And then, during the cold spring days which 
 
304 THE STRANGE STORY OF MY LIFE 
 
 followed, I received at last a telegram, which simply- 
 said — "My dear Louis left me at noon. Pray for 
 me." 
 
 So the struggle was over ; and my story comes to 
 an end. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Colston &* Coy., Limited, Printers, Edinburgh 
 
List of Works by JOHN STRANGE WINTER 
 
 CAVALRY LIFE. 
 
 REGIMENTAL 
 
 LEGENDS. 
 *BOOTLES' BABY. 
 *HOUP-LA ! 
 *IN QUARTERS. 
 *ON MARCH. 
 
 ARMY SOCIETY. 
 *PLUCK. 
 
 GARRISON GOSSIP. 
 *MIGNON'S SECRET. 
 *THAT IMP. 
 *MIGNON'S HUSBAND. 
 
 A SIEGE BABY. 
 ^CONFESSIONS OF 
 
 A PUBLISHER. 
 *BOOTLES' CHILDREN. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL JIM. 
 *MY POOR DICK. 
 ^HARVEST. 
 *A LITTLE FOOL. 
 ^BUTTONS. 
 
 MRS BOB. 
 *DINNA FORGET. 
 *FERRERS COURT. 
 *HE WENT FOR A 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 THE OTHER MAN'S 
 
 WIFE. 
 *GOOD-BYE. 
 
 *LUMLEY THE PAINTER. 
 *A SEASIDE FLIRT. 
 
 INTO AN UNKNOWN 
 
 WORLD. 
 *MERE LUCK. 
 
 ONLY HUMAN. 
 MY GEOFF. 
 A SOLDIER'S 
 
 CHILDREN. 
 *THREE GIRLS. 
 *THAT MRS SMITH ! 
 AUNT JOHNNIE. 
 THE SOUL OF THE 
 
 BISHOP. 
 *A MAN'S MAN. 
 *RED-COATS. 
 A SEVENTH CHILD. 
 A BORN SOLDIER. 
 *THE STRANGER 
 
 WOMAN. 
 A BLAMELESS WOMAN. 
 *THE MAJOR'S 
 
 FAVOURITE. 
 *PRIVATE TINKER. 
 A MAGNIFICENT 
 
 YOUNG MAN. 
 *I MARRIED A WIFE. 
 *I LOVED HER ONCE. 
 THE TRUTH-TELLERS. 
 *THE SAME THING 
 WITH A DIFFERENCE. 
 THE STRANGE STORY 
 
 OF MY LIFE. 
 *GRIP. 
 
 *THE TROUBLES OF AN 
 UNLUCKY BOY. 
 
 One Shilling Novels. 
 
Works by John Strange Winter. 
 
 In One Vol., Crown 8vo, Cloth, 2s, 6d. ; Picture Boards, 2s. 
 
 A BLAMELESS WOMAN. 
 
 "You should certainly read 'A Blameless Woman.'" — Truth, 
 February 23, 1895. 
 
 "The new story, 'A Blameless Woman,' is not only her most 
 ambitious essay, but is in itself a justification of this ambition. It is 
 a very simple, direct tragedy, skilfully worked out, thoroughly 
 interesting." — Daily Graphic, March 6, 1895. 
 
 " The new word that might be said about the woman with a past, 
 but which no one imagined could be invented, has been said with 
 exquisite pathos and the charm of true womanliness by ' John Strange 
 Winter.' ... It has been the novelist's art to kindle these events 
 into a beautiful story." — Sheffield Telegraph, February 20, 1895. 
 
 "The ablest novel this talented authoress has yet produced." 
 —Public Opinion, March 22, 1895. 
 
 " ' A Blameless Woman ' is an honest, straightforward love story, 
 and will ensure a continuation of Mrs Stannard's well-earned popu- 
 larity."— The Realm, March 1, 1895. 
 
 " John Strange Winter may well be proud of a book which combines 
 such a good plot with such fine human characterisation." — Citizen, 
 March 30, 1895. 
 
 " Some among John Strange Winter's legion of admirers may of late 
 years have experienced a fear that she was erring on the side of over- 
 production, as book after book was written by her prolific pen ; but 
 her latest novel sets all such doubts at rest for the present. ' A Blame- 
 less Woman ' is decidedly the best work she has yet given us, not even 
 excepting the ever-delightful ' Booties' Baby,' with which she won her 
 first laurels."— The Lady, May 9, 1895. 
 
 A BORN SOLDIER. 
 
 " John Strange Winter has never written a better story of its kind 
 than ' A Born Soldier.' As a picture of military life it is capital, and 
 the plot and mystery are most effectively managed." — Army and 
 Navy Gazette, March 2, 1895. 
 
 " Regimental life is as truly and happily hit off in 'A Born Soldier 
 as in any work of the brilliant series that has given John Strange 
 Winter her high and unique reputation. . . . There is certainly 
 no other writer who could give such an appearance of vitality to the 
 sketchiest of outlines, and by a few bold, swift and dexterous touches 
 produce a realistic picture of life in a 'crack' cavalry regiment." 
 — County Gentleman, January 12, 1895. 
 
 "An unusually bright, wholesome, and interesting story." — Truth, 
 November 22, 1894. 
 
 "John Strange Winter has never written a tale of more sustained 
 interest. It is full of go, presents some very excellent character 
 sketches, and is altogether a delightful and characteristic piece of 
 literary work." — Admiralty and Horse Guards Gazette, October 29, 
 1894. 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 14 Bedford Street, Strand, W.C. 
 
Works by John Strange Winter. 
 
 Small Crown 8vo, Paper Covers, Is. ; Cloth, Is. 6d. 
 
 I MARRIED A WIFE 
 
 Profusely Illustrated by S. A. H. Robinson. 
 
 'The gifted and popular author of ' Booties' Baby has written 
 many stories like ' I Married a Wife,' but never a better one. Like the 
 best of her books, this deals with a soldier's life, and the love-making 
 and matrimonial incidents of a military career. . . . But before 
 the story reaches this thrilling denouement it goes through a series 
 of the jolliest scenes of fun and character, and makes as pleasant a 
 book to read as anyone by hard searching could find." — Scotsman, 
 November 5, 1895. 
 
 " 'I Married a Wife' is distinctly one of the author's better books. 
 It has a useful moral, that a woman has no right to sacrifice a husband 
 to good works. But the public will read the story for the scenes in 
 which it is laid rather than for the moral. The story of Geraldine's 
 overdone charities and the way they chequer her married life, makes 
 very good reading, and, like nearly all Mrs Stannard's pleasant books, 
 has a happy ending." — Literary World, November 22, 1895. 
 
 " John Strange Winter's ' I Married a Wife ' is the best thing she has 
 done in the light vein, at any rate for years past. . . . The story 
 is run off in the old light-hearted colloquial style which made Mrs 
 Stannard so popular. It may not altogether please the more ultra- 
 montane members of the Pioneer Club — as the obvious moral is that 
 women should subordinate their fads and even praiseworthy activities 
 to their husband's interests. It is to be feared that the War Office 
 big- wigs will not take the hint that they might discover a feminine 
 origin for the little mutinies which occur now and then in regiments 
 whose officers allow social pleasure to absorb more of their time and 
 thoughts than is compatible with zealous care of their men. But 
 nobody, not ignorant or prejudiced, will believe that Mrs Stannard 
 would suggest a military situation without ample warrant in facts." 
 — Queen, November 9, 1895. 
 
 "Derrick Lipscombe's experience in the by no means peculiar 
 situation indicated by the title, gives the foundation for this piquant 
 work, in which the champions of ' crushed womanhood,' the advocates 
 of the divided skirt, and overdone philanthropy come in for keen 
 satire. . . . The work cannot fail to afford the reader much 
 pleasure." — Sheffield Independent, November 6, 1895. 
 
 " Bright, picturesque, faithful to life, full of graceful touches, witty, 
 with a kindly humour, this last volume from the pen that wrote of 
 Booties is worthy to rank with any of its illustrious ancestors — and we 
 cannot give higher praise." — Torquay Times, November 22, 1895. 
 
 " An amusing satire onyoung ladies bitten with crazes philanthropic 
 and otherwise."— Guardian, December 24, 1895. 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 14 Bedford Street, Strand, W.C. 
 
Works by John Strange Winter. 
 
 In One Vol., Crown 8vo, Cloth Gilt, 6s. ; Cloth 2s. 6d. 
 
 A MAGNIFICENT YOUNG MAN 
 
 " ' John Strange Winter ' has written many ingeniously-devised and 
 symmetrically-constructed stories, teeming with interesting incident, 
 genial humour and tender pathos. In ' A Magnificent Young Man ' 
 this sympathetic romancist has surpassed the high standard of narra- 
 tive excellence attained by her previous works. The hero, Godfrey 
 Bladensbrook, is indeed magnificent in more senses than one of the 
 word ... he never for a moment lapses into priggishness, but 
 preserves the fine simplicity and unswerving rectitude of character, 
 which are the most salient of his inborn qualities. . . . From a 
 terrible ordeal — for the details of which we must refer readers to the 
 charming story in which it is graphically described — Godfrey emerges 
 triumphantly, in such sort as fully to justify the designation bestowed 
 upon him by the author of his fictional being." — Daily Telegraph, 
 August 3, 1895. 
 
 "Entertaining from cover to cover. If one wants to while away a 
 three-hour railway journey, this is the book." — Saturday Review, 
 September 21, 1895. 
 
 "'A Magnificent Young Man' is not the least interesting of this 
 prolific writer's many stories. . . . There is a special freshness 
 and charm associated with the earlier love episodes of Margot and her 
 wealthy young admirer that is very pleasant. But it is not so much 
 with regard to its characterisation that the book deserves commenda- 
 tion ; its real merit lies in the ingenuity of its plot, which is most 
 skilfully woven, and leads the reader on step by step until the mystery 
 is solved. Mrs Stannard's many admirers will have no occasion to 
 find fault with the latest of her books." — World, August 28, 1895. 
 
 "A stirring and exciting story." — Lady's Pictorial, October 12, 
 1895. 
 
 " ' A Magnificent Young Man' is another proof that this prolific 
 writer can turn out works, as it were, by the dozen, and yet skilful in 
 construction, ingeniously devised, and withal, of sustaining interest. 
 There is a most exasperating mystery in this work which is not revealed 
 until the closing- chapter — a mystery that Wilkie Collins would have 
 revelled in. Once the book is begun, the reader is impelled to go on 
 until the secret is divulged. Godfrey Bladensbrook, of Bladensbrook, 
 the hero, is a fine character, a man who regards the honour of his 
 ancient family as a precious heritage, to be sustained before every- 
 thing."— Whitehall Review, August 17, 1895. 
 
 " A mystery which will certainly defy the acumen of the most ex- 
 perienced of readers. The whole story is lightly and brightly written." 
 — Graphic, September 21, 1895. 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 14 Bedford Street, Strand, W.C. 
 
Works by John Strange Winter. 
 
 A MAGNIFICENT YOUNG MAX— Continued. 
 
 "This is a groat improvement on most of the author's previous 
 works. The plot is so good that it is difficult for even the practisod 
 novel reader to conjecture what will bo the outcome of the mystery 
 which overshadows the life of the heroine. When tho explanation is 
 at length supplied, it turns out to ho not only possible, but not highly 
 improbable, and is in harmony with tho character of the hero. Young 
 Bladensbrook, of Rladensbrook, is indeed magnificent, not only in 
 physique, but in disposition, and altogether a very lovable young 
 fellow." — Athenaeum, August 31, 1895. 
 
 " 'A Magnificent Young Man' is as wholesome as bright." — Black 
 and White, August 10, 1S95. 
 
 "'A Magnificent Young Man' is the nickname given to Godfrey 
 Bladensbrook, the hero of John Strange Winter's latest book, and, 
 needless to say, he is an officer. His mother, a well-drawn, many- 
 sided character, looked upon her husband's family as ' a race entirely 
 and distinctly apart from the majority of people.' Godfrey was three 
 years of age when she became a widow, and from the first she treated 
 her son ' as if he were a young king.' The influence on his character 
 and career of having been brought up with this overweening sense of 
 family distinction is the main motive of the story. It leads the young 
 man into some foolish scrapes, but it develops in him so high a sense 
 of responsibility that he accepts voluntary martyrdom rather than 
 allow the family honour to be tarnished. . . . The author weaves 
 the rest of the narrative with so much skill that, until she reveals her 
 secret, wo cannot guess at the mystery attending the fate of the hero. 
 Tho book is one of the best that John Strange Winter has written of 
 late."— Daily News, September 16, 1895. 
 
 ''A Magnificent Young Man' is a well-told story of modern 
 society. . . . Mrs Stannard weaves her plot with tho hand of a 
 skillod worker in fiction, draws her characters clearly, and satisfies tho 
 demand for incident."— Lloyd's News, August 25, 1895. 
 
 " This is as good a piece of work as John Strange Winter has done 
 for some time. . . . The 'Magnificent Young Man' is cleverly 
 distinguished from a prig. A prig he would inevitably have become 
 in the hands of a writer of less tact. As for the mother, the clever, 
 capable woman, with her unshakahle loyalty to her son, who, being a 
 Bladensbrook, cannot err, she is admirably drawn." — Westminster 
 Gazette, August 29, 1895. 
 
 " Mrs Bladensbrook and her son Godfrey— the magnificent young 
 man — are original and cleverly drawn characters. . . . It is 
 written in the old-fashioned way which the true novel reader loves, 
 without any digressions, bits of fine writing, introduced anecdotes, or 
 descriptions of this or that. Tho whole book is occupied with telling 
 tho story in simple, straightforward style. The plot is hardly pro- 
 bablo, but it is quite new, and creates a new set of situations. And 
 both hero and heroine are charming people." — Literary World, 
 September 13, 1895. 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 14 Bedford Street, Strand, W.C. 
 
Works by John Strange Winter. 
 
 In One Vol., Crown 8vo, Cloth Gilt, 6s. ; Cloth 2s. 6d. 
 
 THE TRUTH-TELLERS. 
 
 "A new note is struck by John Strange Winter in 'The Truth 
 Tellers.' It is true that the charm of the story rests mainly with 
 the child characters, in whose creation the accomplished authoress 
 has no rival. But they appear before us under new conditions. 
 They are 'The Truth-Tellers,' and the excellent humour of the 
 book arises out of their inveterate habit of telling the bare truth. 
 They had been brought up in this habit in their home in an island 
 of the Shetland group. Their father, Sir Thomas Mortimer, dying, 
 they were taken to live in London with their rich aunt. The way 
 in which these frar.k young persons confound their aunt and her 
 fashionable friends with volleys of truth-telling is inimitable. It 
 is described with a quite sustained sense of humour which is quite 
 irresistible. There is nothing outrageously small or phenomenally 
 good about the children. They get into mischief like other children 
 — as when they introduce an organ man and monkey into their 
 aunt's drawing-room. But they are never rude. Even when they 
 say the most unpleasantly truthful things they do it with native 
 courtesy. . . . There is a delightful love episode interwoven 
 with the story. It is a book that cannot be effectively described, 
 for its dainty humour must be enjoyed at first hand." — Sheffield 
 Daily Telegraph, June 24, 1896. 
 
 " There is plenty of comedy in John Strange Winter's ' The 
 Truth-Tellers.' . . . They are delightful young people, fresh 
 and tender-hearted, honest as the day, and inconveniently incapable 
 of telling even the merest fib. The eldest girl is beautiful, they 
 are all charming ; and their manner towards their aunt at once 
 wins the reader's heart. Their plain-spokenness and impulsiveness 
 bring about some droll situations, but, luckily, never lead to any 
 harm or give much offence. John Strange Winter tells her story 
 in a spirited manner that carries the reader on in high good 
 humour to the last page." — Standard, August 4, 1896. 
 
 "John Strange Winter has got hold of a good idea in 'The 
 Truth-Tellers.' It is a humorous history of the careers of a family 
 of charming children, who, after having been most strictly brought 
 up with one creed only — to speak the whole truth on all occasions 
 — are suddenly transferred to the guardianship of a maiden aunt 
 moving in a comfortable Society set in London. The result is a 
 succession of terrible social experiences for her, owing to the frequent 
 clashingfi between their ideas of truth and hers — i.e., Society's — 
 which their appalling frankness brings into very strong relief ; very 
 funny to read about, but undeniably awkward to suffer."— Norfolk 
 Chronicle, June 20, 1896. 
 
 F. V. WHITE & CO., 14 Bedford Street, Strand, W.C. 
 

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