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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 17
a short play which had just been played at the Royal
Theatre.
But suddenly our spirits flagged and the inevitable
pause ensued ; that awkward pause which is sure to occur
after exhaustive efforts to shine and make conquests.
Again the memories of the past oppressed me and I grew
silent.
"What’s the matter? " asked the Baroness.
"There are ghosts in this house," I replied, trying to
account for my silence. "Ages ago I lived here—yes,
yes, ages ago, for I am very old."
" Can’t we drive away those ghosts? " she asked, look-
ing at me with a bewitching expression, full of motherly
tenderness.
" I’m afraid we can’t; that’s the privilege of some one
else," laughed the Baron; "she alone can banish the
gloomy thoughts. Come now, you are engaged to Miss
Selma?"
" No, you are mistaken, Baron ; it was love’s labour
lost."
"What! is she bound to some one else? " asked the
Baron, scrutinising my face.
"I think so."
"Oh, I’m sorry! That girl’s a treasure. And I’m
certain that she is fond of you."
And forthwith the three of us began to rail against the
unfortunate singer, accusing him of attempting to compel
a woman to marry him against her will. The Baroness
tried to comfort me by insisting that things were bound
to come right in the end, and promised to intercede for
me on her next trip to Finland, which was to take place
very shortly.
"No one shall succeed," she assured me, with an angry
flash in her eyes, ’ ’
in forcing that dear girl into a
marriage of which her heart doesn’t approve."
c
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