FTER a delicious fish lunch, which included the celebrated bouillabaisse so delightfully sung by Thackeray, none of the three felt in the mood for a visit to the Prince's famous aquarium. Instead, they slowly went up to old Monaco and lazed about in the terraced gardens which overhang the sea.
After a while M. Popeau exclaimed: “I'm afraid I ought to go back now to the Hôtel de Paris, for I'm expecting a message from Paris.”
He looked at Captain Stuart and at Lily Fairfield in an odd, undecided way, and Captain Stuart reddened slightly under his tan. “I'll take Miss Fairfield up to La Solitude,” he said shortly.
“I suppose that will be all right,” but the Frenchman still looked as if uncertain what to do.
“I can walk back to La Solitude quite well by myself,” said Lily smiling.
It always amused her to notice that M. Popeau seemed to regard her as something fragile and delicate, that required a great deal of looking after.
“I do not think that will be necessary, Mademoiselle,” the Frenchman said in a rather dry voice. “I can trust our friend here to see that you are provided with an escort.”
And then he took the girl's hand and held it in his powerful, cool grasp for a moment or two.
“I am sorry you have had all this trouble,” he said feelingly. “You must forget that poor Mr. Ponting ever existed.”
“I don't think I shall ever forget that, M. Popeau,” said Lily slowly, “or your kindness to me about it all.”
He ambled off, swaying a little as he walked. Lily looked after the peculiar and rather ungainly figure with a touch of affectionate regret.
“What a pity M. Popeau doesn't take more exercise—just to keep himself in condition,” she said. It was strange to feel, as she did feel, that this foreigner, whom she had only known a fortnight, had already a very secure niche in her heart—in fact, a niche next to her dear Uncle Tom. “What a dear he is!” she exclaimed.
And then, for her companion remained silent and began tracing imaginary patterns on the sandy path with his stick, Lily suddenly felt overwhelmed with a sensation very new to her—that of intense shyness.
Strange to say—it really was strange when she came to think of it—this was the very first time she had ever been alone with a man who sat so curiously silent by her side, for she did not count the few moments they had spent together yesterday morning. She remembered a funny little interchange of words they had had yesterday on the golf course, when Captain Stuart had said in such a whimsical way that he wished they two could walk on and on “beyond the mountains' purple rim.” It had been said lightly, as if in fun, and yet—though Lily's mind and thoughts were then still full of her dreadful discovery—she had felt somehow that Captain Stuart's fanciful suggestion had come from his heart.
He turned towards her, and, as if echoing her thought: “I wonder if you realise that this is the very first time, if we except yesterday morning, I've ever had an opportunity of saying a word to you alone!” he exclaimed.
And Lily answered with that touch of unconscious hypocrisy which even the most truthful girl may show in such a circumstance, “I suppose it is.”
“Our good friend, M. Popeau,” Angus Stuart spoke with a touch of irony, “shows himself a most efficient chaperon, Miss Fairfield”
“He has very old-fashioned ideas,” said Lily a little awkwardly, “but I like him all the better for that.”
“So do I,” her companion's voice altered, the irony died out of it. “Most nice Frenchmen have old-fashioned ideas—I mean about young ladies. I found that out during the war. But all the same—well, I often feel envious of M. Popeau, for he seems to be always doing things for you.” He turned round on the bench on which they were both sitting, and looked at her very earnestly. “I'm a lazy chap, but I'd like to—to be able to prove”
Then he stopped dead, and Lily's heart began to beat unaccountably.
What a pity it is sometimes that two human beings cannot see what is passing through each other's minds and hearts. What a lot of trouble, pain—aye, and danger—their doing so would often save.
Angus Stuart was feeling exasperated with himself, and yet—and yet how could be take advantage of this unlooked-for opportunity? Deep in his heart he knew that he had fallen in love, practically at first sight, with Lily Fairfield, and that he was falling deeper and deeper into love each day. And yet, in a conventional sense, he hardly knew her, for they never could escape from M. Popeau. This was really the first time they had ever had a chance of a real talk together!