my intentions,” said Mr Palliser.
Upon this, Lady Glencora shrugged her shoulders, and made a mock grimace to her cousin. All this her husband bore for a while meekly, and it must be acknowledged that he behaved very well. But, then, he had his own way in everything. Lady Glencora did not behave very well,—contradicting her husband, and not considering, as, perhaps, she ought to have done, the sacrifice he was making on her behalf. But, then, she had her own way in nothing.
She had her own way in almost nothing; but on one point she did conquer her husband. He was minded to go from Paris back to Cologne, and so down the Rhine to Baden. Lady Glencora declared that she hated the Rhine,—that, of all rivers, it was the most distasteful to her; that, of all scenery, the scenery of the Rhine was the most overpraised; and that she would be wretched all the time if she were carried that way. Upon this, Mr Palliser referred the matter to Alice; and she, who had last been upon the Rhine with her cousins Kate and George Vavasor, voted for going to Baden by way of Strasbourg.
“We will go by Strasbourg, then,” said Mr Palliser, gallantly.
“Not that I want to see that horrid church again,” said Glencora.
“Everything is alike horrid to you, I think,” said her husband. “You are determined not to be contented, so that it matters very little which way we go.”
“That’s the truth,” said his wife. “It does matter very little.”
They got on to Baden,—with very little delay at Strasbourg, and found half an hotel prepared for their reception. Here the carriage was brought into use for the first time, and the mistress of the carriage talked of sending home for Dandy and Flirt. Mr Palliser, when he heard the proposition, calmly assured his wife that the horses would not bear the journey. “They would be so out of condition,” he said, “as not to be worth anything for two or three months.”
“I only meant to ask for them if they could come in a balloon,” said Lady Glencora.
This angered Mr Palliser, who had really, for a few minutes, thought of pacifying his wife by sending for the horses.
“Alice,” she asked, one morning, “how many eggs are eaten in Baden every morning before ten o’clock?”
Mr Palliser, who at the moment was in the act of eating one, threw down his spoon, and pushed his plate from him.
“What’s the matter, Plantagenet?” she asked.
“The matter!” he said. “But never mind; I am a fool to care for it.”
“I declare I didn’t know that I had done anything wrong,” said Lady Glencora. “Alice, do you understand what it is?”
Alice said that she did understand very well.
“Of course she understands,” said Mr Palliser. “How can she help it? And, indeed, Miss Vavasor, I am more unhappy than I can express myself, to think that your comfort should be disturbed in this way.”
“Upon my word I think Alice is doing very well,” said Lady Glencora. “What is there to hurt her comfort? Nobody scolds her. Nobody tells her that she is a fool. She never jokes, or does anything wicked, and, of course, she isn’t punished.”
Mr Palliser, as he wandered that day alone through the gambling-rooms at the great Assembly House, thought that, after all, it might have been better for him to have remained in London, to have become Chancellor of the Exchequer, and to have run all risks.
“I wonder whether it would be any harm if I were to put a few pieces of money on the table, just once?” Lady Glencora said to her cousin, on the evening of the same day, in one of those gambling salons. There had been some music on that evening in one side of the building, and the Pallisers had gone to the rooms. But as neither of the two ladies would dance, they had strayed away into the other apartments.
“The greatest harm in the world!” said Alice; “and what on earth could you gain by it? You don’t really want any of those horrid people’s money?”
“I’ll tell you what I want,—something to live for,—some excitement. Is it not a shame that I see around me so many people getting amusement, and that I can get none? I’d go and sit out there, and drink beer and hear the music, only Plantagenet wouldn’t let me. I think I’ll throw one piece on to the table to see what becomes of it.”
“I shall leave you if you do,” said Alice.
“You are such a prude! It seems to me as if it must have been my special fate,—my good fate, I mean,—that has thrown me so much with you. You look after me quite as carefully as Mr Bott and Mrs Marsham ever did; but as I chose you myself, I can’t very well complain, and I can’t very well get rid of you.”
“Do you want to get rid of me, Cora?”
“Sometimes. Do you know, there are moments when I almost make up my mind to go headlong to the devil,—when I think it is the best thing to be done. It’s a hard thing for a woman to do, because she has to undergo so much obloquy before she gets used to it. A man can take to drinking, and gambling and all the rest of it, and nobody despises him a bit. The domestic old fogies give him lectures if they can catch him, but he isn’t fool enough for that. All he wants is money, and he goes away and has his fling. Now I have plenty of money,—or, at any rate, I had,—and I never got my fling yet. I do feel so tempted to rebel, and go ahead, and care for nothing.”
“Throwing one piece on to the table wouldn’t satisfy that longing.”
“You think I should be like the wild beast that has tasted blood, and can’t be controlled. Look at all these people here. There are husbands gambling, and their wives don’t know it; and wives gambling, and their husbands don’t know it. I wonder whether Plantagenet ever has a fling? What a joke it would be to come and catch him!”
“I don’t think you need be afraid.”
“Afraid! I should like him all the better for it. If he came to me, some morning, and told me that he had lost a hundred thousand pounds, I should be so much more at my ease with him.”
“You have no chance in that direction, I’m quite sure.”
“None the least. He’d make a calculation that the chances were nine to seven against him, and then the speculation would seem to him to be madness.”
“I don’t suppose he’d wish to try, even though he were sure of winning.”
“Of course not. It would be a very vulgar kind of thing then. Look,—there’s an opening there. I’ll just put on one napoleon.”
“You shall not. If you do, I’ll leave you at once. Look at the women who are playing. Is there one there whom it would not disgrace you to touch? Look what they are. Look at their cheeks, and their eyes, and their hands. Those men who rake about the money are bad enough, but the women look like fiends.”
“You’re not going to frighten me in that hobgoblin sort of way, you know. I don’t see anything the matter with any of the people.”
“What do you think of that young woman who has just got a handful of money from the man next to her?”
“I think she is very happy. I never get money given to me by handfuls, and the man to whom I belong gives me no encouragement when I want to amuse myself.” They were now standing near to one end of the table, and suddenly there came to be an opening through the crowd up to the table itself. Lady Glencora, leaving Alice’s side, at once stepped up and deposited a piece of gold on one of the marked compartments. As soon as she placed it she retreated again with flushed face, and took hold of Alice’s arm. “There,” she said, “I have done it.” Alice, in her dismay, did not know what step to take. She could not scold her friend now, as the eyes of many were turned upon them, nor could she, of course, leave her, as she had threatened. Lady Glencora laughed with her peculiar little low laughter, and stood her ground. “I was determined you shouldn’t frighten me out