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Page 11
The Russian had disappeared from view, the bushes and vases in the
center of the garden plot gave only occasional chances to see
people at a distance.
But when Stella had entered the Ludovici collection she perceived
him to the right, gazing at the statue of the beautiful Mars.
He turned instantly, as though some one told him she was near--and
his calm eyes took in the fact that she was alone. The small room
was empty but for the two, and he addressed her as he removed his
hat.
"Good morning, mademoiselle," he said gravely. "Mars is a strong
attraction. I knew I should presently find you here--so when I
caught sight of your spiritual outline across the garden, I came
and--waited."
"He is most splendid-looking, is he not," Stella returned, trying
to suppress the sudden tingle of pleasure that was thrilling her,
"and look how much character there is in his hands."
"Shall we go and study the others, or shall we find a bench in the
garden and sit down and talk?" Count Roumovski asked serenely, and
then smiled to himself as he noticed his companion's apprehensive
glance in the direction where, far away, Martha dozed in peace.
"It would be nice out of doors--but--" and Stella faltered.
"Do not let us be deprived of pleasure by any buts--there is one
out there who will warn us when your maid wakes. See--" and he
advanced toward the entrance door, "there is a bench by that rose
tree where we can be comparatively alone."
Stella struggled no more with herself. After all, it was her last
chance--Eustace Medlicott's train got in at five o'clock!
She had a sense of security, too, the complete serenity of her
companion inspired confidence. She almost felt she would not care
if Aunt Caroline herself slept instead of the elderly maid.
There was some slight change in Count Roumovski's manner to-day--
he kept his eyes fixed upon her face, and the things he said were
less abstract and more personal. After an entrancing half hour she
felt she had seen vivid pictures of his land and his home. But he
was a great traveler it appeared, and had not been there often in
later years.
"It is so agreeable to let the body move from place to place, and
remain in a peaceful aloofness of the spirit all the time," he
said at last. "To watch all the rushing currents which dominate
human beings when they do not know how to manipulate them. If they
did, the millennium would come,--but, meanwhile, it is reserved
for the few who have learned them to enjoy this present plane we
are on."
"You mean you can control events and shape your life as you
please, then?" Stella asked surprised, while she raised her sweet
shy eyes to his inquiringly. "I wish I knew how!"
"Shall I try to teach you, mademoiselle?" he said.
"Yes, indeed."
"Then you must not look down all the time, even though the
contemplation of your long eyelashes gives me a pleasure--I would
prefer the eyes themselves--the eyes are the indication of what is
passing in the soul, and I would study this moving panorama."
Stella's color deepened, but she met his blue orbs without
flinching--so he went on:
"I had the fortune to be born a Russian, which has given me time
to study these things. My country does not require my work beyond
my being a faithful servant of my Emperor. Since I am not a
soldier, I can do as I choose. But you in England are now in a
seething caldron, and it would be difficult, no doubt, for you to
spend the hours required--although the national temperament would
lend itself to all things calm if it were directed."
"But for myself," Stella demanded, "I am not a man, and need not
interest myself in the nation's affairs--how can I grow to guide
my own--as you seem to do?"
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