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Monk made no reply to that. “What did everyone else do, after?” he asked, slowing the pace a trifle.
Stephan smiled. “Florent flirted with Zorah—in the orangery, I think. Brigitte went walking alone. Wellborough and Rolf talked business in the library. Lady Wellborough did something domestic. I spent the morning playing golf with Friedrich and Klaus. Gisela and Evelyn walked roughly where we are now, and quarreled over something. They came back separately, and both in a temper.”
They were moving away from the house, still under the elms. A gardener passed them pushing a wheelbarrow. He raised his cap respectfully and mumbled something. Stephan acknowledged him with a nod. Monk felt rude, but he did not wish to distinguish himself as different by speaking to the man. It was not expected.
“And the afternoon?” he pressed.
“Oh, we all had luncheon rather early and everyone disappeared to plan the evening, because we were having a party and there were to be amateur theatricals. Gisela was terribly good at it, and she was to take the lead.”
“Was that unusual?”
“Not at all. She often did. One of her great gifts is the ability to enjoy herself completely, and to do it in such a way that everyone around her enjoys themselves also. She can be totally impulsive, think of the most entertaining ideas, and then simply do them. Without making a fuss or getting weighed down in preparations, which kill the fun. She is the most spontaneous person I ever have known. I think after all the rigid formality of court, when everything is planned weeks in advance and everyone follows the rules, that was what so enchanted Friedrich about her. She was like a summer wind through a house that had been closed up for centuries.”
“You like her,” Monk observed.
Stephan smiled. “I don’t think I would say I like her, but I am fascinated by her and by the effect she has on people.”
“Which is?”
Stephan glanced at him, his eyes bright. “Varied,” he replied. “The only thing it never is is indifferent.”
“How about Evelyn and Zorah?” Monk asked. “How did they like playing supporting roles to Gisela’s lead?”
Stephan’s expression was hard to read. “Evelyn can play the ingenue, or even a boy, rather well, which she did on this occasion. She was captivating. She managed to be boyish and utterly feminine at the same time.”
Monk could imagine it with pleasure. Evelyn’s mischievous face, with its youthful lines and wide eyes, and her completely womanly softness would make a beguiling youth full of appeal. Her slender figure would still be unmistakably female, even in masculine costume.
“I can’t see Zorah in that role,” he admitted, looking sideways at Stephan.
Stephan hesitated before he replied. They were several paces farther along the track when he spoke.
“No. She was cast as a loyal friend who carried the messages which furnished some of the plot.”
Monk waited, but Stephan did not add anything.
“Who was the hero?”
“Florent, of course.”
“And the vill
ain?”
“Oh—I was.” He laughed. “Actually, I rather enjoyed it. Other people you don’t know took the minor parts. Brigitte did one of them; somebody’s mother, I think.”
Monk winced. Perhaps it had not been intended as cruel, but he perceived it so.
“Was it a success?”
“Enormously. Gisela was very good. She made up a bit of it as she went along. It was difficult for the others to follow, but it was so witty no one minded. The audience applauded wildly. And Florent was good as well. He seemed to know instinctively what to say or do to make it look natural.”
“And Zorah?”
Stephan’s expression changed; the amusement drained away, leaving unhappiness. “I’m afraid she did not enjoy it so much. She was the butt of a few of Gisela’s funnier remarks, but Friedrich was amused and hardly ever took his eyes from Gisela, and Zorah had the sense not to show her feelings.”
“But she was angry.”
“Yes, she was. However, she had her revenge the following day.” They climbed a dozen shallow stone steps to a grass walk and the shadow of the elms. “They all went riding,” he went on. “Gisela came in the gig. She doesn’t ride well, or care for it. Zorah is marvelous. She dared Florent to follow her over some very rough country, and they left Gisela behind in the gig and she came home alone. They arrived back an hour later, flushed and laughing, he with his arm around her. It was obvious they had had an excellent time.” He laughed, his eyes bright. “Gisela was furious.”
