The White Countess
By
Florence Warden
London
John Long
Norris Street, Haymarket
All Rights Reserved
First Published in 1907
CONTENTS
THE WHITE COUNTESS
CHAPTER I
“Oh, Gerard, what a long face! What’s the matter? Have you had yourpocket picked?”
It was Gerard Angmering’s beautiful young wife who put these laughingquestions to him, on the threshold of the modest little flat in WestKensington where, like most young couples of moderate means nowadays,they had set up their tent and expected to find peace and joy and allthe comforts of home in a jerry-built “mansion” where they paid ahundred a year for the privilege of hearing the conversation of theirunderneath neighbour up the chimney, and being overheard in likemanner by their neighbours overhead and on each side.
Gerard, whose face had instinctively softened at the very first wordfrom his wife, said “Sh—sh,” pushed her inside their littledrawing-room, and shut the door.
“There’s trouble at the bank,” said he. “I didn’t want to have to tellyou. But since you’ve found me out, why, I suppose I must.”
“Oh, Gerard, what do you mean? What trouble?”
“There, there, don’t look so frightened, child. It will be all right,all right. At least—I suppose it will, I hope it will. You’ve heardme speak of Sir Richmond Hornthwaite, the old gentleman who gives usso much trouble—always sending imperative messages for us to go andsee him, because he’s forgotten something he had to say, or because hewants to have something done for