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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 87
with fire, I was firm in my decision. I would stay here for
a week to recover entirely, and then return to town to my
old attic.
In spite of all their objections, I persisted. Strange;
as soon as I pulled myself together and made a determined
stand, the Baroness became almost hostile to me. The
more I vacillated and humoured her whims, the fonder she
seemed of me, the more she praised my wisdom, my
amiability. She swayed and bewildered me, but as soon
as I opposed her seriously, she turned her back on me and
treated me with dislike, almost with rudeness.
While we Avere discussing the Baron’s proposal to live
under one roof, she drew a glowing picture of such an
arrangement, dwelling on the pleasantness of being able
to see one another at any time without a previous
invitation.
"But, my dear Baroness," I objected, "what would
people say if you were to receive a bachelor into your
young ménage? "
"What does it matter what people say?
’"
"But your mother, your aunt? Moreover, my man’s
pride rebels against a measure which is only permissible
in the case of a minor."
" Bother your man’s pride ! Do you think it manly to
perish without opening your lips?
"
"Yes, it behoves a man to be strong."
She grew angry, and refused to admit that a man’s case
differed from that of a woman. Her woman’s logic
confused my brain. I turned to the Baron, whose answer-
ing smile showed plainly what a small opinion he had of
female brain-power.
About six o’clock the steamer weighed anchor and bore
my friends away. I returned to the hotel alone.
It was a splendid evening. The sun had set in an
orange-coloured sky, white stripes were lying on the deep
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