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II

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The next afternoon they were walking in the park, at some distance from the palace, when they came to a bridge over a bit of artificial water; and there was the woman of yesterday, leaning on the parapet, throwing bread-crumbs to the carp. She looked up as they passed, and bowed, with a little smile, in acknowledgment of their raised hats.

When they were out of earshot, “H’m,” muttered Hilary, “viewed at close quarters, she’s a trifle disenchanting.”

“Oh?” questioned his friend. “I thought her very good-looking.”

“She has too short a nose,” Hilary complained.

“What’s the good of criticising particular features? The general effect of her face was highly pleasing. She looked intelligent, interesting; she looked as if she would have something to say,” the younger man insisted.

“It’s very possible she has a tongue in her head,” admitted Hilary; “but we were judging her by the rules of beauty. For my fancy, she’s too tall.”

“She’s tall, but she’s well-proportioned. Indeed, her figure struck me as exceptionally fine. There was something sumptuous and noble about it,” declared the other.

“There are scores of women with fine figures in this world,” said Hilary. “But I’m sorely disappointed in her hair. Her hair is nothing like so red as I’d imagined.”

“You’re daft on the subject of red hair. Her hair’s not carrot-colour, if you come to that. But there’s plenty of red in it, burning through it. The red is managed with discretion—suggestively. And did you notice her eyes? She has remarkably nice eyes—eyes with an expression. I thought her eyes and mouth were charming when she smiled,” the pale man affirmed.

“When she smiled? I didn’t see her smile,” reflected Hilary.

“Of course she smiled—when we bowed,” his friend reminded him.

“Oh, Ferdinand Augustus,” Hilary remonstrated, “will you never learn to treat words with some consideration? You call that smiling! Two men take off their hats, and a woman gives them just a look of bare acknowledgment; and Ferdinand Augustus calls it smiling!”

“Would you have wished for a broad grin?” asked Ferdinand Augustus. “Her face lighted up most graciously. I thought her eyes were charming. Oh, she’s certainly a good-looking woman, a distinctly handsome woman.”

“Handsome is that handsome does,” said Hilary.

“I miss the relevancy of that,” said Ferdinand Augustus.

“She’s a trespasser.’.was you yourself flew in a passion about it yesterday. Yesterday she was plucking the King’s roses; to-day she’s feeding the King’s carp.”

“ ‘When the King’s away, the palace mice will play.’ I venture to recall your own words to you,” Ferdinand remarked.

“That’s all very well. Besides, I spoke in jest. But there are limits. And it’s I who am responsible. I’m the Constable of Bellefontaine. Her trespassing appears to be habitual, We’ve caught her at it ourselves, two days in succession. I shall give instructions to the keepers to warn her not to touch a flower, nor feed a bird, beast, or fish, in the whole of this demesne. Really, I admire the cool way in which she went on tossing bread-crumbs to the King’s carp under my very beard!” exclaimed Hilary, working himself into a fine state of indignation.

“Very likely she didn’t know who you were,” his friend reasoned. “And anyhow, your zeal is mighty sudden. You appear to have been letting things go at loose ends for I don’t know how long; and all at once you take fire like tinder because a poor woman amuses herself by throwing bread to the carp. It’s simply spite: you’re disappointed in the colour of her hair. I shall esteem it a favour if you’ll leave the keeper’s instructions as they are. She’s a damned good-looking woman; and I’ll beg you not to interfere with her diversions.”

“I can deny you nothing, Uncle,” said Hilary, by this time restored to his accustomed easy temper; “and therefore she may make hay of the whole blessed establishment, if she pleases. But as for her good looks—that, you’ll admit, is entirely a question of taste.”

“Ah, well, then the conclusion is that your taste needs cultivation,” laughed Ferdinand. “By-the-bye, I shall be glad if you will find out who she is.”

“Thank you very much,” cried Hilary. “I have a reputation to safeguard. Do you think I’m going to compromise myself, and set all my underlings a-sniggling, by making inquiries about the identity of a woman?”

“But,” persisted Ferdinand, “if I ask you to do so, as your———”

“What?” was Hilary’s brusque interruption.

“As your guest,” said Ferdinand.

Mille regrets, impossible, as the French have it,” Hilary returned. “But as your host, I give you carte-blanche to make your own inquiries for yourself—if you think she’s worth the trouble. Being a stranger here, you have, as it were, no character to lose.”

“After all, it doesn’t matter,” said Ferdinand Augustus, with resignation.

Comedies and Errors

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