Moreover, Cesarine further inflamed her desire by gently hinting
a fact which she had picked up at the courier's table d'hote at
the hotel--that the Count had been far from anxious to sell his
ancestral and historical estate to a South African diamond king.
He thought the honour of the family demanded, at least, that he
should secure a wealthy buyer of good ancient lineage.
One morning in February, however, Amelia returned from the Row all
smiles and tremors. (She had been ordered horse-exercise to correct
the increasing excessiveness of her figure.)
"Who do you think I saw riding in the Park?" she inquired. "Why,
the Count of Lebenstein."
"No!" Charles exclaimed, incredulous.
"Yes," Amelia answered.
"Must be mistaken," Charles cried.
But Amelia stuck to it. More than that, she sent out emissaries to
inquire diligently from the London lawyers, whose name had been
mentioned to us by the ancestral firm in Unter den Lauben as
their English agents, as to the whereabouts of our friend; and
her emissaries learned in effect that the Count was in town and
stopping at Morley's.
"I see through it," Charles exclaimed. "He finds he's made a
mistake; and now he's come over here to reopen negotiations."
I was all for waiting prudently till the Count made the first move.
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