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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 35
"This meddling with other people’s love affairs is utter
folly! " he exclaimed, almost rudely; the Baroness’s face
flushed with indignation. I hastily changed the subject
to avoid a scene.
The ball had been set rolling. The lie, originally a
mere whim, grew. Full of apprehension and shame, I
told myself fairy tales which I ended in believing. In
them I played the part of the ill-starred lover, a part
which came easy enough, for with the exception of the
object of my tenderness, the fairy tales agreed in every
detail with reality.
I was indeed caught in my own net. One day, on
returning home, I found "her" father’s card. I re-
turned his call at once. He was a little old man, un-
pleasantly like his daughter, the caricature of a caricature.
He treated me in every way as he would his prospective
son-in-law. He inquired about my family, my income,
my prospects. It was a regular cross-examination. The
matter threatened to become serious.
What was I to do ? Hoping to divert his attention
from me, I made myself as insignificant as possible in his
eyes. The reason of his visit to Stockholm was obvious.
Either he wanted to shake off the singer, whom he dis-
liked, or the lady had made up her mind to honour me
with her hand if an expert should approve of her bargain.
I showed myself from my most unpleasant side, avoided
every opportunity of meeting him, refused even an invita-
tion to dinner from the Baroness ; I tired my unlucky
would-be father-in-law out by giving him the slip again
and again, pleading urgent duty at the library, until I
had gained my purpose, and he departed before the
appointed time.
Did my rival ever guess to whom he was indebted for
his matrimonial misery when he married his bride-elect ?
No doubt he never knew, and proudly imagined that he
had ousted me.
D 2
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