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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 51
the point of sending in his papers, and looking out for a
cashier’s billet in a bank.
"That’s the reason," she concluded, ’’why I want to
make use of the talent I possess, for then I could con-
tribute my share to the necessary expenses of the house-
hold. It’s all my fault, don’t you see? I’m to blame for
the difficulties in which he finds himself; I’ve ruined his
career. ..."
What could I say or do in such a sad case which went
far beyond my power of assistance? I attempted to
smooth away her difficulties, to deceive myself about
them.
I assured her that things would come all right, and, in
order to allay her fears, I painted for her the picture of
a future without cares, full of bright prospects. I c^uoted
the statistics of national economy to prove that better
times were coming in which her shares would improve ;
I invented the most extraordinary remedies ; I conjured
up a new army organisation which would bring in its train
unexpected promotion for her husband.
It was all pure invention, but, thanks to my poAver of
imagination, courage and hope returned to her, and her
spirits rose.
After landing, and while we Avere waiting for the com-
mencement of the play, we went for a Avalk in the Park.
I had not, as yet, exchanged one word Avith the cousin.
The Baron never left her side. He carried lier cloak,
devoured her Avith his eyes, bathed her in a flood of Avords,
warmed her Avith his breath, Avhile she remained callous and
self-possessed, with vacant eyes and hard features. From
time to time, without apparently moving a muscle of her
face, she seemed to say things to which the Baron replied
with shrieks of laughter, and, judging from his animated
face, she must have been indulging pretty freely in
repartee, innuendoes and double-entendres.
£ 2
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