第32章 VILLA RUBEIN(30)

"Mr.Treffry made me give him whisky afterwards, and he had no money to pay the bill--that I know because I paid it.Well, M'mselle, to-day he would be dressed and very slowly we came as far as Auer; there he could do no more, so went to bed.He is not well at all."Christian was overwhelmed by forebodings; the rest of the journey was made in silence, except when Barbi, a country girl, filled with the delirium of railway travel, sighed: "Ach! gnadige Friiulein!" looking at Christian with pleasant eyes.

At once, on arriving at the little hostel, Christian went to see her uncle.His room was darkened, and smelt of beeswax.

"Ah! Chris," he said, "glad to see you."

In a blue flannel gown, with a rug over his feet, he was lying on a couch lengthened artificially by chairs; the arm he reached out issued many inches from its sleeve, and showed the corded veins of the wrist.Christian, settling his pillows, looked anxiously into his eyes.

"I'm not quite the thing, Chris," said Mr.Treffry."Somehow, not quite the thing.I'll come back with you to-morrow.""Let me send for Dr.Dawney, Uncle?"

"No--no! Plenty of him when I get home.Very good young fellow, as doctors go, but I can't stand his puddin's--slops and puddin's, and all that trumpery medicine on the top.Send me Dominique, my dear--I'll put myself to rights a bit!" He fingered his unshaven cheek, and clutched the gown together on his chest."Got this from the landlord.When you come back we'll have a little talk!"He was asleep when she came into the room an hour later.Watching his uneasy breathing, she wondered what it was that he was going to say.

He looked ill! And suddenly she realised that her thoughts were not of him....When she was little he would take her on his back; he had built cocked hats for her and paper boats; had taught her to ride;slid her between his knees; given her things without number; and taken his payment in kisses.And now he was ill, and she was not thinking of him! He had been all that was most dear to her, yet before her eyes would only come the vision of another.

Mr.Treffry woke suddenly."Not been asleep, have I? The beds here are infernal hard.""Uncle Nic, won't you give me news of him?"Mr.Treffry looked at her, and Christian could not bear that look.

"He's safe into Italy; they aren't very keen after him, it's so long ago; I squared 'em pretty easily.Now, look here, Chris!"Christian came close; he took her hand.

"I'd like to see you pull yourself together.'Tisn't so much the position; 'tisn't so much the money; because after all there's always mine--" Christian shook her head."But," he went on with shaky emphasis, "there's the difference of blood, and that's a serious thing; and there's this anarch--this political affair; and there's the sort of life, an' that's a serious thing; but--what I'm coming to is this, Chris--there's the man!"Christian drew away her hand.Mr.Treffry went on:

"Ah! yes.I'm an old chap and fond of you, but I must speak out what I think.He's got pluck, he's strong, he's in earnest; but he's got a damned hot temper, he's an egotist, and--he's not the man for you.

If you marry him, as sure as I lie here, you'll be sorry for it.

You're not your father's child for nothing; nice fellow as ever lived, but soft as butter.If you take this chap, it'll be like mixing earth and ironstone, and they don't blend!" He dropped his head back on the pillows, and stretching out his hand, repeated wistfully: "Take my word for it, my dear, he's not the man for you."Christian, staring at the wall beyond, said quietly: "I can't take any one's word for that.""Ah!" muttered Mr.Treffry, "you're obstinate enough, but obstinacy isn't strength.

You'll give up everything to him, you'll lick his shoes; and you'll never play anything but second fiddle in his life.He'll always be first with himself, he and his work, or whatever he calls painting pictures; and some day you'll find that out.You won't like it, and I don't like it for you, Chris, and that's flat."He wiped his brow where the perspiration stood in beads.

Christian said: "You don't understand; you don't believe in him; you don't see! If I do come after his work--if I do give him everything, and he can't give all back--I don't care! He'll give what he can; Idon't want any more.If you're afraid of the life for me, uncle, if you think it'll be too hard--"Mr.Treffry bowed his head."I do, Chris.""Well, then, I hate to be wrapped in cotton wool; I want to breathe.

If I come to grief, it's my own affair; nobody need mind."Mr.Treffry's fngers sought his beard."Ah! yes.Just so!"Christian sank on her knees.

"Oh! Uncle! I'm a selfish beast!"

Mr.Treffry laid his hand against her cheek."I think I could do with a nap," he said.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she stole out of the room.

By a stroke of Fate Mr.Treffry's return to Villa Rubein befell at the psychological moment when Herr Paul, in a suit of rather too bright blue, was starting for Vienna.

As soon as he saw the carriage appear between the poplars he became as pensive as a boy caught in the act of stealing cherries.Pitching his hatbox to Fritz, he recovered himself, however, in time to whistle while Mr.Treffry was being assisted into the house.Having forgotten his anger, he was only anxious now to smooth out its after effects; in the glances he cast at Christian and his brother-in-law there was a kind of shamed entreaty which seemed to say: "For goodness' sake, don't worry me about that business again! Nothing's come of it, you see!"He came forward: "Ah! Mon cher! So you return; I put off my departure, then.Vienna must wait for me--that poor Vienna!"But noticing the extreme feebleness of Mr.Treffry's advance, he exclaimed with genuine concern:

"What is it? You're ill? My God!" After disappearing for five minutes, he came back with a whitish liquid in a glass.

"There!" he said, "good for the gout--for a cough--for everything!"Mr.Treffry sniffed, drained the glass, and sucked his moustache.