much aggrieved. But I must admit that the story met with very hesitating acceptance. Some denied it altogether, the more clear-sighted perceived that, even were its truth allowed, it presupposed more than it told. There was something in the background; that was what everybody thought. What? That was what nobody knew. However I am afraid that there were quite enough suspicion and enough talk to justify my English friend in his remark about the one or two scandals which attached themselves to my name. I beg leave to hope that his charitable expression of surprise that there were not more may be considered equally well justified.
While I lay ill, Princess Heinrich was the dominant influence in the administration of affairs. When I recovered, I found that Coralie Mansoni was no longer playing in Forstadt, and had left the town some weeks before. I put no questions to my mother. I also found that Varvilliers had resigned his official position in the French service, and remained in Forstadt as a private person. Here again, at Varvilliers' own request, I put no questions to my mother. Finally I was informed that the Bartensteins had offered themselves for a visit. Again I put no questions to my mother. I determined, however, not to be laid on the shelf again for three months, if I could help it.
Such is the history of my secret duel with Wetter and of my acquaintance with Coralie Mansoni up to the date of that occurrence. Such also is the story of that apparently very bad shot which my little son found in the wainscoting of the Garden Pavilion. But it was not such a very bad shot; not everybody would have gone so near and yet made sure of not hitting.
