he general health, all
mental tumults are perpetual in their consequences: they never die out
entirely, and they live, sometimes with appalling energy, sometimes with
gnawing listlessness, to the end of an existence. Robert, in the
judgment of his intellect and his senses, had found his ideal. Brigit
did not belong to "the despised day of small things"; she was the woman
of his imagination--the well-beloved, and having gained her, was he to
say--Farewell? It seemed so. Meanwhile, the graceful, swaying dialogue
rippled between the players on the stage; the smiling audience, hushed
with interest, gazed at the delightful beings before them; the
exquisite Marquise had uttered her two last speeches--

"_Je ne croyois pas l'amitie si dangereuse._"

and--

"_Je ne me mele plus de rien!_"

Lubin brought the performance to an end by the final utterance--

"_Allons de la joie!_"

The curtain fell--to rise again a dozen times. Orange did not hear the
door of the box being opened. Prince d'Alchingen came in and put a hand
on the young man's shoulder.

"Would you like to see her?" he whispered. "I can arrange it. No one
need know."

But the training of a lifetime and constant habits of thought were
stronger still than any mood.

"No," said Robert, shortly, "I won't see her. I must get back to London
at once."

CHAPTER XXVIII

The Prince looked at him in astonishment.

"You can't get to London to-night," said he; "there are no trains."

"I can walk."

"It is thirty-five miles."

"I am accustomed to long walks."

"At any rate you will have some supper first--in my little
breakfast-room. Don't refuse, because I want you to meet Castrillon."

"Castrillon! I should like to meet Castrillon."

"Then I will tell him. You and he can take supper together. He doesn't
want to join the big party. He has the artist's detestation of the
chattering mob. How well he plays! And what a triumph for--Madame!"

"A great triumph."

"This corridor leads to my tiny cupboard--the merest cupboard! Follow
me." They went through several doors and up several small staircases
till they reached a small apartment furnished in old blue damask,
heavily fringed with tarnished gold and silver decorations.

"A few souvenirs of my hereditary castle in Alberia," explained the
Prince; "they relieve my sense of exile."

He walked across the floor and tapped on what appeared to be a portion
of the wall.

"We are here," said