I expect ’e’s pretty ’ungry by this time! But ’e don’t
get a centime out of me for cakes to-day. I’ll teach ’im not to stuff
’imself like a pig again. Come, Gustave! ’ere’s a machine for you! Get
me a chair that I may sit outside it! Now, we’ll ’ave some fun,” she
added, with a wink at Mrs. Pullen. “Let us move on to the breakwater!” said Margaret to Elinor Leyton, and
the whole party got up and walked some little distance off. “Ah! you don’t hoodwink me!” screamed the Baroness after them. “You’ve
got glasses with you, and you’re going to ’ave a good squint at
Gustave’s legs through ’em, I know! You’d better ’ave stayed ’ere, like
honest women, and said you enjoyed the sight!”

“O! Margaret!” said Miss Leyton, with a look of horror, “if it had
not been for the _Bataille de Fleurs_ and ... the other thing ... I
should have said, for goodness’ sake, let us move on to Ostende or
Blankenburghe, with the least possible delay. That woman will be the
death of me yet! I’m sure she will!”

Notwithstanding which, they could not help laughing in concert, a
little later on, to see the unwilling Bobby dragged down by William to
bathe, and as he emerged from his machine, helpless and half naked, to
watch his elephantine mother chase him with her stout stick in hand,
and failing to catch him in time, slip on the wet sand and flounder in
the waves herself, from which plight, it looked very much as though her
servant instead of rescuing her, did his best to push her further in,
before he dragged her, drenched and disordered, on dry land again. CHAPTER IV. The Baroness Gobelli’s temperament was as inconsistent as her dress. Under the garb of jocose good-humour, which often degenerated to
horse-play, she concealed a jealous and vindictive disposition, which
would go any lengths, when offended, to revenge itself. She was wont
to say that she never forgot, nor forgave an injury, and that when she
had her knife (as she termed it) in a man, she knew how to bide her
time, but that when the time came, she turned it. These bloodthirsty
sentiments, coupled with an asseveration which was constantly on her
lips, that when she willed the death of anyone, he died, and that she
had powers at her command of which no one was aware but herself,
frightened many timid and ignorant people into trying to propitiate so
apparently potent a mortal, and generally kow-towing before her. To
such votaries, so long as they pleased her, Madame Gobelli was used
to shew her favour by various gifts of dresses, jewelry, or money,
according to their circumstances, for in some cases she was lavishly
generous, but she soon tired of her acquaintances and replaced them by
fresh favourites. The hints that she gave forth, regarding herself and her antecedents,
were too extraordinary to gain credence except from the most ignorant
of her auditors, but the Baroness always spoke in parables, and left
no proof of what she meant, to be brought up against her. This proved
that if she were clever, she was still more cunning. The hints she
occasionally gave of being descended from Royal blood, though on the
wrong side of the blanket, and of the connection being acknowledged
privately, if not publicly, by the existing members of the reigning
family, were received with open mouths by people of her own class,
but rejected with scorn by such as were acquainted with those whom
she affected to know. It was remarkable also, and only another proof
that, whatever her real birth and antecedents, the Baroness Gobelli
was unique, that, notwithstanding her desire to be considered noble
by birth if not by law, she never shirked the fact that the Baron was
in trade--on the contrary she rather made a boast of it, and used to
relate stories bringing it into ridicule with the greatest gusto. The
fact being that Baron Gobelli was the head of a large firm of export
bootmakers, trading in London under the name of Fantaisie et Cie,
the boots and shoes of which, though professedly French, were all
manufactured in Germany, where the firm maintained an enormous factory. The Baroness could seldom be in the company of anyone for more than
five minutes without asking them where they bought their boots and
shoes, and recommending them to Fantaisie et Cie as the best makers
in London. She wanted to be first in everything--in popularity, in
notice, and in conversation--if she could not attract attention by her
personality, she startled people by her vulgarity--if she could not
reign supreme by reason of her supposed birth, she would do so by boots
and shoes, if nothing else--and if anybody slighted her or appeared to
discredit her statements, he or she was immediately marked down for
retaliation. Harriet Brandt had not been many days in Heyst before the Baroness had
become jealous of the attention which she paid Mrs. Pullen and her
child. She saw that the girl was attractive, she heard that she was
rich, and she liked to have pretty and pleasant young people about her
when at home--they drew men to the house and reflected a sort of credit
upon herself--and she determined to get Harriet away from Margaret
Pullen and chain her to her own side instead. The Baroness hated Miss
Leyton quite as much as Elinor hated her. She was quick of hearing
and very intuitive--she had caught more than one of the young lady’s
uncomplimentary remarks upon herself, and had divined still more than
she had heard. She had observed her sympathy with Bobby also, and that
she encouraged him in his boyish rebellion. For all these reasons, she
“had her knife” into Miss Leyton, and was waiting her opportunity to
turn it. And she foresaw--with the assistance perhaps of the Powers of
Darkness, of whose acquaintance she was so proud--that she would be
enabled to take her revenge on Elinor Leyton through Harriet Brandt. But her first advances to the latter were suavity itself. She was not
going to frighten the girl by shewing her claws, until she had stroked
her down the right way with her _pattes de velours_. She came upon her one morning, as she sat upon the sands, with little
Ethel in her arms. The nurse was within speaking distance, busy with
her needlework, and the infant seemed so quiet with Miss Brandt and she
took such evident pleasure in nursing it, that Mrs. Pullen no longer
minded leaving them together, and had gone for a stroll with Miss
Leyton along the Digue. So the Baroness found Harriet, comparatively
speaking, alone. “So you’re playing at nursemaid again!” she commenced in her abrupt
manner. “You seem to have taken a wonderful fancy to that child!”

“She is such a good little creature,” replied Harriet, “she is no
trouble whatever. She sleeps half the day!”

Miss Brandt had a large box of chocolates beside her, into which she
continually dipped her hand. Her mouth, too, was stained with the
delicate sweetmeat--she was always eating, either fruit or bonbons. She
handed the box now, with a timid air, to the Baroness. “Do you care for chocolate, Madame?” she asked.