Harald Nicolas Stazol
Lord Darlington´s Death

März 14th, 2009 | stazol

Lord Darlington was well amused. He had been to his club and had encountered, for the first time, between tea and whiskey, an unknown person, unmistakingly a new butler, of exceeding beauty. The Lord was saved, he had been bored for over a year and now saw his first chance to be captured by beauty. He had observed the acolyte and been well pleased. The butler was elegant in his bearings, had a nicely modulated voice, a perfect accent and wonderful hands. Lord Darlington had gone over four whiskeys only to see the new, brandnew, butler serving him. Ond once even with a smile. Lord Darlington had not been smiled at for well a decade, or he had not registered it, for society was truly content with his social and cordial disposition. He very seldom smiled. His lips were full on disdain on the world, but this time! Oh, this time he smiled back, a blushing youth again at Eton, a flowering, a butterfly´s air movement on his heart. In short, it was a miracle. He sent the carriage away and walked through Green park, as he had done since June 1889, when he was as happy – and as well in love. He felt inspired and full of live and his very steps had a new rhythm, it seemed to him. He bought flowers on his way, striding to Buckingham Palace to see the Prince of Wales, an intimate friend. He was delighted, felt elated, was about to dance a little. And the passers-by wondered at the usual so solemn lord, whom they had not seen as spirited in well some years. The next days he visited his club on a regular basis. He choose a sofa right in the best lit corner, eagerly awaiting the butlers return. And yes, there he was, smoothly attending to the gentlemen‘s wishes. Darlington now ordered tea and some cake, then cigarettes, then a gin tonic, slowly running out of pretexts to be served at all. He asked for the Times, and after some thoughtless reading joined some acquaintances for a party of bridge. At midnight he ordered the carriage, found his home in Belgravia and, before falling asleep, thought of ways how to engage Anthony (he had finally been able to listen to the butler being addressed as such) in some conversation. He decided to act. He had anticipated a long stay in the country, at Darlington hall. He wondered how to impart the news to Anthony, whom he intended to ask whether he would work for him. Darlington hesitated. He had long been alone. His marriage had failed. His two sons were estranged to him, and his ex-wife squandered his money and his nerves. “How to do it, and not be plain, and what if he should say no”. His anxiousness increased from day to day. Then, one afternoon, he saw his chance. He had been to Parliament to hear the Prime Minister debate for the increasement of the fleet, the new politic toward India and relations to France. He waited for the moment, he felt like a boy on a cricket field, seen by everyone, and he was ashamed for his weakness, because so he felt, weak to continue a life empty for him, an endless stream of tea-parties, tennis and the races. Like a beggar he went to the club, requesting nothing more for his destiny than to be accepted. He had chosen a blue Pinstripe and had a dandy dandelion in his buttonhole. He sweated. He did not dare to challenge the steps to the club, shortly greeting Baron Rothschild, barely hearing what he said. Lord Darlington was rejuvenated, he hummed a tune, something from Tchaikovsky, if he was not mistaken.
He entered through the wooden revolving door, was greeted by the footman, went up to the concierge to immerse himself in correspondence (“The house is ready, the hunt will be organized, a ball threatens, attended by all neighbours, boring as they may be. But I will not go alone. I will not take no for an answer.”) He took the elevator to the library and, to calm himself down, he read a German poet, August von Platen:

August von Platen (1796-1835)

Tristan

Wer die Schönheit angeschaut mit Augen,
Ist dem Tode schon anheimgegeben,
Wird für keinen Dienst auf Erden taugen,
Und doch wird er vor dem Tode beben,
Wer die Schönheit angeschaut mit Augen!
Ewig währt für ihn der Schmerz der Liebe,
Denn ein Tor nur kann auf Erden hoffen,
Zu genügen einem solchen Triebe:
Wen der Pfeil des Schönen je getroffen,
Ewig währt für ihn der Schmerz der Liebe
Ach, er möchte wie ein Quell versiechen,
Jedem Hauch der Luft ein Gift entsaugen,
Und den Tod aus jeder Blume riechen:
Wer die Schönheit angeschaut mit Augen,
Ach, er möchte wie ein Quell versiechen!

He closed his eyes. He was 21 again, at university, rowing his beloved upriver, a summer‘s day, hot and humid, followed by a picnic and some chat, and a kiss. Only one. It was the first and the last kiss he had ever received. He would kiss again, he said to himself. And he would stop to live a sham, a caricature of himself, depriving himself of his utmost feelings, of the depth in life that he had so long, oh! so long forgotten. He had wasted far too much time. He had endured a thirst unquenchable, he had hungered, he had burnt his money, oh! there was enough left, no worries. He decided to buy an apartment in Paris. Darlington went into the drawing room. There he was, Anthony, smiling again. Darlington beckoned him to come. Anthony came. “Your lordship looks well today”, he said. “Oh I am happy”, Darlington replied. He let his eyes wander. He stared Anthony directly into the eyes. He felt tears up welling, threatening to spoil the scene. The eyes were blue and asking. “Anthony, I have a very urgent request. I want to employ you. I have to employ you. It is my urgent wish. Please, please don‘t turn me down. You have made me happy, so happy. I would double your earnings, of course. And accompany me on a world tour. Bombay perhaps, for a month.” He looked to the floor. “You can think about it, of course. Please do. But you have to accept. You have to. I am relying on it.“ Anthony was dumbfounded. He could not believe his ears. He staggered a bit. He took a step away. He sighed. And then he said: “Yes, milord. I shall be happy to accept. I will quit here immediately. And I will travel with you. And live with you. Thank you so much milord.” And so Lord Darlington was saved. He hardly believed his luck. He shook hands. He muttered “thank you”. He fell back into his chair and planned to furnish Anthony‘s rooms brandnew. A week passed. They had not spoken about money. It was not necessary. And on April the first Anthony moved into 212, Belgrave Square. Oh, this were happy times for Lord Darlington, and for Anthony as well. The whole household, the cook, Sally, an Irishwoman of sometimes stern reactions, the chauffeur, Jack, a solemn, quiet man, Andrew, the gardener, the footmen, they all fell for Anthony, then in the prime of his youth. It was as if a new, warm breeze swept through the house, as if the ice that had covered Darlingtons home had melted away and the first flowers came through a now friendlier earth. Anthony was adapting splendidly to his recent position, and Darlington could sometimes lay awake in his bedroom, awaiting Anthony to fold back the drapes and open the window and ask for his lordships plans for today and which suit he chose for the events of the day. Then he took his tea, while Anthony prepared the clothes, matched the ties and polished shoes, lightly chatting away about some news in society and the court curricula and sometimes one of the dreams he had had. Darlington went to his business, drove out to the shipyards, visited the bank to fix some urgent necessities. The complete renovation of Darlington Hall, Payment for the new yacht and the ordering of a new, private rail car, for he intended to follow the orient express in autumn, going down to Eypt, there meeting with the boat and then sailing to Athens, Venice, Genoa, Cannes and the through the Gate of Gibraltar, to Biarritz, and then back to Paris, for the races in Chantilly. He would send some horses that had done well in Ascot. He sold some property in Scotland and invested heavily in Suez-Bonds (not knowing that he would be richer than the Hanover -Windsors, when the Channel was finished and profits rolled in). He bought art. A Chinese vase, a sculpture of Apollo only just arrived from Delphi. A Venetian chandelier, for the entree of the Belgrave House. A KPM tea-set in bleu mourant, formerly in possession of Frederick the Great, it was also Darlington‘s favourite colour and he decided to redo the bleu salon. He would give a party. He was surprised at himself. A party? He would invite all his friends and society, he would ask the Prime Minister and the Prince of Wales. Yes, he thought, I shall give a party. He went down Regent Street, when he saw Mrs. Dalloway. Clarissa I must tell you all. I am a new man. Larissa plainly had seen the change, even heard about it. She replied, I know, it is the new butler. Oh shame on you, Harold. You take youth for granted. You are feeding on youth. I love you for it, but it is a dangerous hobby. You can loose all. Darlington told her about the party. Clarissa Dalloway was amazed. Of course, she said, we shall come, it will be a pleasure, oh how delightful. Maybe I shall have a party myself. And then, after a fortnight, Belgravia House was ablaze with diamonds and their ladies, was the centre of town, a dance with the Prime Minister, a chat with the future king. And Anthony was everywhere at once. He poured drinks, offered coffee and tea, was all politeness to the ladies, saw to everything, always keeping an adoring eye on Darlington himself. He is delightful, Darlington, they said. How do you find these youths. You should be so happy, and we are even happier, for you are now well kept. But be careful, Harold, lest you loose your heart. And Darlington knew, this hope was in vain, he had already lost it.

He danced with Clarissa and she whispered, you fool, you adorable fool. We shall see, we shall see, what society says about you. I think you have charmed them all.

He is straight of the Norman conquest, the purest Norman I have seen for years, blue-blooded chap, he is, analyzed Professor Chatham, a Darwinian fellow from Cambridge. The blazing blue eyes, his straight jaw, his red lips, the shine of his skin, his height, hair blond as an autumn leaf, a Norman, I declare. And I am conquested finally, Darlington thought.

And then his ex-wife entered the room. He had not invited her, but she came with a young actor, and was instantly forgiven. So this is your new part of the collection. Congratulations. Now you make yourself a fool of the entire empire. We shall sail to Canada next week, Darlington fired back. And I forbid you to speak like that. He is my butler, and that is that. And the woman he had loved turned away in tears and left the room, joining some mutual friends.

It was a scandal outright. The never tounge-tied pythons of society spat venom. And Darlington knew what they were. They were jealous. That was all. Who wouldn‘t t have Anthony around him. They envied him. And his Lordship relished in it.

The renovations at Darlington Hall had been completed, and on a perfect autumn day, a day in which summer greets for a last time and the sun long conquers the sky, they travelled thereto, for it pleased Darlington to show Anthony all his possessions, his passions, his delights in gardening. And not for long the pillared portico of Darlington Hall commandeered its Hill amidst Beeches and Willow, the lake glistening, its fountains ablaze and its huge household bowing on the steps, happy for his lordship to return.

He gave a ball. For all the countryside, all the Earls, Sirs and Lords around, for it was hunting season, and the ladies had been desperate for some entertainment. He danced a lot, there was a recital of a German opera singer and some piano playing, it was a gay circle that revolved around him, and, of course, around Anthony. He took the ball by storm. The ladies were charmed to death by his manners, and Darlington shone like a new coin and bowed to everyone and made all of them feel at home. He thought of Jane Austen and her happy country balls. They would stay till Christmas, and then return to London, and the for spring to Paris.

In Paris, he took Anthony in the Opera, and then back to the Ritz, where they dined together as friends, class distinctions all dead. It was perhaps a mistake of Darlington, but soon in Cannes they were back to the old arrangement, Anthony taking command of the seaside villa that Darlington, inexplicably, had not visited in years. He went to the casino and lost a fortune, but he did not heed, and there was money enough. His Canadian Railway Bonds had developed into tenfold their initial worth, and Darlington had a new Swimming Pool installed.

And at night, when all was silent, Darlington awoke to a splashing sound. He went to the balcony, and there he was: Anthony, taking a night swim, glistening in the moonlight like a fish. Darlington went to bed again and slept till the next afternoon, when he was awakened by his butler, urging him to have tea. Now he went for a swim, asking for Gin Tonics. Suddenly his friend Lord Elfinstone was announced. Darlington had him asked for drinks at the pool, took a towel and had himself dressed in a seersucker suit, and then met his friend. Hardy, he said, how nice of you to come. Do stay a bit. Stay for a week. I‘ll have your luggage sent from the Palace Hotel. I don‘t take no for an answer. And lets go to the Casino tonight, I beg you, it is so much fun to loose money with his friends

And they went, leaving a worried Anthony behind, who didn‘t especially like these types of his Lordships friends. When they came home in the wee hours of the morning, they were in high spirits, asking for more and laughing like schoolboys. Darlington had not had so much fun in years. He motioned to Anthony, thank you, that would be all, but Anthony insisted to wait on his guests as long as they stayed, and had some extra rooms made ready.

Breakfast was a late affair, but the joyous atmosphere remained, and when the young German tycoon from next door made his entry, the day was in safe hands. The sun triumphed over the evening star still and they had had dinner on the grass and suddenly the wish for the pool was everywhere. When Darlington had left the party and all had gone to bed, he had a cigarette on his balcony. And sure as the gods wished there the splash was again, Anthony, swimming like a giant golden fish, ever so gracefully. And the next morning his Lordship smiled and said to him, you are a good swimmer, my dear Anthony. And Anthony blushed. It was so hot between the bed sheets, your lordship, I had to cool down a little. Pray, do, as you please, Darlington said. And from then on stayed up late, to see his butler swim.

It was an untenable situation. Society had a field day. If you go on like this, one anonymous letter said, you shall be destroyed in London. And Darlington laughed lightly, crumbled up the paper and lit it in an ashtray. Another letter, announcing lady Darlington with her new lover for next Monday, in three days time, was surely more alarming.

When his ex-wife appeared with her newest acquisition, both their friends warned them openly. A gentleman under the same roof with his ex-wife s lover AND his ex-wife was regarded as amoral throughout. To Darlington it seemed, that time itself stood still. They were a handsome couple, and of course he signed some checks to keep them on travelling to Brussels, under the condition that both departed immediately. So calm, if not reason, were restored to him.

From Cannes, they went on to Grasse, through a flowering countryside, with fields of roses accompanying their slow ascent to the ville, and Darlington fell so in love with that place and its perfumes that he enquired after a small house in the vicinity. He needed to be alone and took up rooms at Grasses best hotel, the Hotel des Parfums.

There, a kind of depression fell on the lord. He felt exhausted. And the more Anthony tried to lift his spirits, he failed. It is all in vain, thought, London will kill me. If I ever go there again. Nobody will understand me. I am ridiculed already. But with the ridiculousness of his situation he could live. Without Anthony, he could no longer.

And after some deep thought and unanswered letters, he awoke one morning to a new decision. He would face them all and not heed his own destruction in society, should this be his fate. And to Anthony he said: Are you happy, my boy. And the boy said, I could not be happier my lord. And that was that.

They returned to London in October, and found it much changed. He was greeted in his club by severe nods, and one evening, a certain general t. came to his lordships attention and enquired after his butler. Was he not perfect to join the army, to be drafted, to be trained in service. And Darlington said, well, a war Anthony would not survive, he would not survive. And with a puzzled face the general withdrew and shook his head.

The Prince of Wales drew him aside at Ascot and enquired after his health, and his ex wife, and whether he considered marrying again. And Darlington answered, as long as your Highness refrains, I consider it my duty to follow your example. He did not see the signs. And he did not wonder to be excluded from some dinner parties he had been a regular to. It was as if a mist settled around him. And he did not care.

He rode out one morning and met Mr. Dalloway, who barely greeted him and his seat in the House of Lords was soon ignored, as if his noble friends were shunning him. And then there was a letter sent to Anthony, urging him to leave his position, beseeching him to not fall for the corrupted whims of an ageing dandy. He had shown it to him and Darlington stared out of the window and said faintly, they hate happiness, wherever the see it. A gentleman must not be happy, to be part of society. Happiness is condemned by everyone. Happiness is amoral. And Anthony withdrew.

But life at Darlington Hall was as easy as ever. Darlington had gone early into the country this year, and he could rely on the allegiance of his household, and the deep understanding that bound his tenants to his family, and the general feeling that a Lord could be as eccentric as he pleased.

Darlington settled down a bit. He slowed down even his very movements, getting grace fuller and barely alluding to his old schoolboy days. He felt like in a dream. He wrote to his sister, after years of silence, and invited her to stay a fortnight with her extended family. It was unheard of. The household reacted with surprising efficiency, ordering food all around and to have fowl and deer, they sent out a hunt. The house was aired, the guest tracts were cleaned, the silver polished, wine and porcelain found. A family! After all these years! And young children, a menace that Darlington always had had difficulties with.

And Anthony? He had disappeared into an office, paying bills, ordering the refreshments, upping the wine cellar. It was a change for the lord, but he complied. There was no one better, and the whole household was relieved. At last! A trustworthy, hardworking butler. But through all his ordeals, he stood by the chair in front of the fire where his lordship required brandy and some conversation, and Anthony kept him all informed about proceedings.

Agatha, his sister, arrived with five boys and her husband, a humourless stock-trader from the city, who had given his lordship often his sound advice without his wife‘s knowing. They were heartingly received and welcomed, and the dinner following the visitors getting settled down and changing for the occasion, in long evening robes, dripping with jewels, the husband and his lordship in smokings. It was a delighting affair, lasting the whole evening. Anthony saw to everyone everywhere, showering the guests in the fulfilment of their wishes. A complete success, Darlington thought, and rejoined the children in his old playroom, where they fell on his little soldiers, like their forebears might have done in battle. Good stock, Darlington perceived.

His sons came, after they had heard about the stay of their aunt, and both of them talked to their father during a crocket game, something they had longed for years.

Perhaps he would buy some property in Scotland, to be even safer against indiscretions. But it would be a flight. Give them no room, Darlington thought. Fight back.

The children adored Anthony, and their mother was surely charmed. Only the stock broker held himself back with any comments and kept his moral dark thoughts to himself. But when they left, Darlington felt ready for Bath. Or Eastbourne, for Darlington loved the sea. He spent lavishly on a new carriage and they stayed at the Grand Hotel, as in the lords youth, overlooking the see like a white palace and a landmark on the shore, freshly after Victoria Regina and the Coronation, with his mother. His father would come down from the city and spend the weekends, always having his special train ready to depart on short notice to the cabinet meetings. Those were the days of Darlington‘s golden youth, when he was just another chap of high aristocracy, adored by everyone and always being witty and swimming out into the waves to exhaustion. He felt elated. His friends found him in highest spirits. Anthony went quite golden in the sun, and they had dinner on the terrace Darlington being waited upon, and being one in ten aristocrats who had brought their own servants.

Then an invitation arrived, beckoning Darlington to the Rothschild in Paris, for the wedding of their youngest daughter, Rebecca, and, with a relish, Darlington accepted. They would go to Paris, stay at the Meurice, tour the Louvre and then go on to Biarritz.

The wedding was a grand affair. The Présidente de la Republique had given a special permission to invite to the Petit Trianon at Versailles, and both bride and groom were of such startling happiness that Darlington waltzed with the young bride twice.

Darlington had not been at his house in Paris for years. He had sent an urgent message to his French lawyer in order to pay some staff and, miraculously, his French staff had the place aired and cleaned to his lordships full satisfaction. Paris society was much more open than London‘s and reacted to Darlington‘s presence with acute kindness and a tide of invitations, all of which the lord accepted with a flourish, and a quantity of flowers and little presents for the salons in the afternoons and evenings. The British ambassador gave his spring ball and there Darlington was presented to all the available beauties of the season, charming them without committing himself and being very vague generally. “He is the most desirable bachelor of this summer” the presiding ladies concluded and, “it would be a shame if we lost him to an American heiress”. And Darlington took the compliments as his understatement allowed, smiling a lot and feeling youthful without being too open about it. Anthony in the meantime took lessons in French, for he felt that maybe the lords restlessness would decrease and they would stay perhaps some time longer in France.

And then something unexpected happened: The Princess of Angoulème, Claire, fell in love. She was twenty-five, a beauty renown in society, unmarried and portrayed by countless painters since her youth, and she set it in her little head to woe and seduce the new arrival from London with all her grace and trickery and decisiveness that she could master, and she appeared at every party, salon and ball where Darlington was received, and tried to enchant him with her lively chatter and grace and wit, and Darlington responded in kind, without realizing that he was the only person of her attention. She managed to get an invitation to the British embassy‘s garden party and there, escaping her chaperone, the Duchesse d´Orléans, the princesse thrust, at an unregarded moment, a letter in Darlingtons hand, in which she poured out all the sentiments, hopes, desires and emotions of her young life, and hoped to touch Darlingtons heart.

And indeed she did. He sent her flowers and asked her out for a ride, and delighted in her careless chatter, and when he gave a little reception in his refurbished house for the Crème de la crème of Parisian Society. He did not forget the jeunesse dorée, all the Princesses friends and some revolutionary poets, and he saw to the wellbeing of all his guests, and showered Claire with pleasantries and small signs of his attachment – and Anthony saw all this but was silent, and a trifle sad, and his thoughts became darker, and his attentions to his lordship waned a little, but Darlington did not heed, for he thought that his butler‘s affections were unshaken and indeed unshakeable, and he was right to a certain extent, for Anthony was very loyal, and he had only Darlington‘s happiness in mind.

One morning Darlington awoke and had his coffee and his morning papers and, after some time, while getting dressed, asked Anthony out of a sudden feeling: “Anthony, my dear, what if I would marry again? Would I be happier and have a new purpose in life, and start all over again, and have, perhaps, some more children? What would you think? I have been so lonely but for you, and I am thankful for your service an for having been a good counsellor and friend, but what I fear the most is my heritage and inheritance going to my ex-wife, her lovers and my notorious sons, and be lost, or squandered in no time, and my seat in Parliament would be lost, and all my doings and honours forgotten. Would not there be a ghist of fresh air through the Princesse, and my life changed thoroughly, and all our fortunes bettered and more joyous, and I might be content in old age?” And Anthony was silent and brushed his lordships new tweeds, and after a while he answered, “your wish is my desire, and I would do everything to your pleasure, but a matter of such importance must be considered carefully, and perhaps your lordship needs some more time for so decisive a step, for a young girls heart might be broken easily, and, if I daresay so, your lordships heart also”. And he left the matter at that and resolved to prepare himself with all due respect to a change in the household and the situation in general, and did so in great secrecy and without giving himself away. And he increased his considerations for his future new mistresses wellbeing, and had flowers sent to her every day, choosing the bouquets himself, when Darlington was busy or simply forgot to do so, which was seldom but happened from time to time.

Anthony decided to be very attentive whenever the Princesse visited Darlington, and he tried to judge her soul from afar, and when he had the opportunity, very discreetly always and with great care. And in due course he could find nothing amiss in her behaviour, and he ventured with great care to win her affection and trust, and never missed the moment when he thought it better to leave the new-found lovers to themselves, whenever decency allowed it: When, for example, Darlington showed her the winter garden, or went to a walk with his newfound object of desire, for Claire was desirable indeed.

Darlington was torn apart between the possibilities that the new relationship would offer and his reluctance to give up his bachelorhood. And every morning he asked himself, and his butler, what he should do with his future. And after some time society judged it necessary that Darlington paid a visit to the aging Prince d´Angoulème, Claire‘s father, in the Faubourg, to discuss the matter and propose in the accepted fashion: “You love my daughter?”, the prince asked over some cognac, and Darlington answered: “Very much so. She is a treasure of my life, and I shall provide well for her.” And the Prince was content, and accepted his lordship, on one condition – the marriage should be postponed for a year, so that the lovers would have time enough to consider the matter with utmost care, and search their feelings, and guarantee their affections for each other, and be sure about there steps, for the outcome would be all-important.

The rumour about the betrothal reached London in no time, supposedly over the British envoy in Paris, and one morning a letter from Clarissa Dalloway arrived for Lord Darlington, which ran as follows: “My dear, I have heard about your plans and am delighted. But are you really prepared for the necessities of a marriage to a girl so much younger than you? Think of the consequences. And, to be quite honest, what about your butler, the source of your pleasure so far?” Indeed, Darlington thought, indeed. He was shaken between acceptance of the situation as it was and changing his life. One year was perhaps the right thing to do, he thought. Twelve Months, we shall see – and then Darlington took a decision.

Claire was a stunning beauty. She had a fragile bearing, and all her dresses complimented her bosom, her taille, which would have done a Medici honour. Her hands were white as her porcelain skin, and the rosy cheeks needed no Make up. It was at the time no easy task for a young girl to enter a room gracefully in one all-encompassing gesture, lending her hand for the gentlemen to be kissed, greeting the hostess and acquaintances in due order, then tiptoeing to a sofa while balancing a cup of tea and perhaps a rose-coloured petit four, then be seated, with a completely straight back and in the very minute starting a witty dialogue, all that in a dress with a five-foot satin train and high heels and a well showing décolleté, well adorned with rubies or sapphires, and last but not least a bouquet of spring flowers, which court etiquette required during Victoria‘s reign. She was remarkable for her education and she had heard mathematics and physics at the Sorbonne, being one of the first females to be allowed to do so, doubtlessly through the good contacts of her father to the university – he was a world-renown geologist – and some substantial contributions to diverse science projects in her families name. She was well versed in poetry and music, playing the harpsichord and – she sang very beautifully. She danced to the delight of her various companions, and some officers held bets about the duration of a waltz: the record lay with a dragoon, who waltzed with her for seventeen minutes straight. Oh, and how she laughed, she laughed like a butterfly‘s dance in the evening breeze, a colibri`s flight. Darlington knew all this well.

Yet he hesitated. His life would change in extremis, and he feared his new found happiness could diminish, could disappear into the nothingness of his earlier days, but for Anthony‘s kindness. But Claire reminded him of Marie-Antoinette, her light-footed ways and the sheer delight that she shone in. Yet Darlington hesitated.

Another matter suddenly dawned upon the lord and his life: The Prime Minister requested his attendance to a conference of European officials, who would convene in Geneva for a prolonged talk of European peace-keeping and the general outlook on the future of political factions of the continent. At first, Darlington did not feel up to the occasion and felt that his possibilities of influencing the matter in favour of the British Empire seemed to him diminished, since he felt his own being much more of a cosmopolite than favouring a single nation‘s need and its strategic needs. But in an afterthought he suddenly relished in the thought of seeing Lake Geneva again, and the Montblanc, and the shore where his confidante, the Empress of Austria-Hungary, Sisi, had met her fate in such tragic circumstances.

The preparations for the journey were extensive. Darlington was required to visit the conference for about a month, the minimum of time that was expected for the discussions. Anthony was busy as ever: He had a villa to rent, a building that had to meet all the requirements of a representative lodging, a home that was able to give room for larger dinner parties and receptions as well as intimate meetings for some of the most important politicians of the present time – he found a little palais on the quai d´x, whose occupants had left for a world tour, and he travelled a week early, to prepare the house just in time. His lordship was not amused about this, but he saw the reasonableness of the parting with his butler, and it gave him some space to deal with the princess on his own.

One night, Darlington had a dream. He had been late to bed, after a night in the opera, and some champagne, and a conversation with a dear friend, Spencer Elphinstone, whose daughter had married a young American, about her father was not too happy: “Too bad, an American, of all possible sons-in-law, an American! He asked me where I had bought my furniture. Bought! My furniture! It was outrageous! And, my friend, when are you to marry again? I hear a lot about a certain girl, and you seem to be a perfect match! Some children perhaps? Oh, I met your son in Newcastle, he bought a horse, quite the sportsman he is.” And Darlington felt his thoughts drain away. He didn‘t know how he had gotten home in the first place, and after he went to bed, he slept sound and fast, and then he dreamt.

He was on a white cliff, very high up at some seaside resort, and he looked down the cliff and saw a swimmer. In the waves, the youth struggled to come ashore, and it seemed to Darlington that the tide was rolling out, and the swimmer was loosing his strength. Darlington stood high up on the rocks and felt lost, for he couldn‘t help the swimmer, as was his wont. And then he saw a woman plunging out into the whiteness, after she had run from the white sands into the rolling sea, and she swam out to the swimming youth, and she struggled out to him, and she saved his life, just like that, and Darlington was happy, but he could not move. And then the pair came up on the shore, and it was Anthony, and it was the princess, and they came up to the lord and went past him, and Darlington could not speak, and they did no see him. And then, against the setting sun, they kissed each other, and Darlington felt a sudden sadness, and he was desperate to see them both embracing, and he could not do anything about it. And then Darlington woke in cold sweat, and after some time he cried, and cried, as he had not cried since his boyhood, when his father had died, and the principal of Eton had informed him of his father‘s death, on a cold summer morning. He was exempt from the lessons for a week, and he did not recover during those days, but cried until the hospital ward had given him something to calm him down. And then he slept for three days, and when he woke again, he knew, he was a man, and his childhood was over forever – he simply knew it. When Darlington stopped crying he went down the stairs and found his father‘s portrait in the library. And in the morning the maid found him fast asleep on a couch amidst his books, and she was very worried, and let him sleep till midday, when he was expected for a ride out with the Princess in the Bois de Boulogne. But he could not go to see her, and he sent a message and some flowers and had himself excused, and for the first time in a long time he had a bottle of whiskey for dinner, and after that he laughed hysterically, and the whole household was worried for some days, until the doctor came. And the doctor saw that something deeply troubled his Lordship, and after some deliberation the old gentleman sent a telegram to Geneva.

When Anthony had read the cable, he decided to take the night train to Paris, and in the morning he arrived, and found the house in an eerie silence. He went down to the servants quarters and opened the door to the kitchen and there met the cook. “Oh, monsieur”, she cried, “monsieur, enfin” and then she told everything that she knew of her master‘s illness, and that he had taken to bed for more than a week, and was very ill, and all the doctors who had come could not find a reason for his Lordships ailment. “You are our last hope, monsieur!”

“Has he asked for me”, Anthony enquired, and deep down he was desperate. And when it was time for his Lordships breakfast, he went up the stairs with his tray and knocked on the door to Darlington‘s bedroom. And when he opened the curtains, he turned and saw Darlington‘s face, and Anthony waited. He sat next to the bed and waited for more than an hour, and he was worried even more. And then he did something that he never had done before. He touched Darlington. He took his Lordships hands and held them. And Darlington moved his head in Anthony‘s direction and opened his eyes. And after some moments, the dullness in Darlington‘s eyes brightened, and he smiled, and he whispered; “Anthony, you have left me all alone, and this was no good idea. I have had some bad dreams. And now I would like to have some tea.” And some tea he got indeed.

Darlington recovered quite quickly, to the amazement of his servants, and the doctor proclaimed him fit for travelling in some days. So everything was packed and the house closed for the season. The only problem remained: What to do with the princess? Darlington called at her villa and was duly received with a certain coldness by the master of the house, her father, who seemed to be a bit reserved about his visitor. No, the princess had gone out for the day, and would not see him. So Darlington decided to write her a letter, and of its content we shall be silent. But after all he had gained some time for his decision, and there were other pressing matters, namely the upcoming conference. The Pullman was ordered, and in due course Darlington boarded his private compartment and went off to Geneva.

There he was received by the British Ambassador, who took him into confidence in a private conversation, and warned him of the German envoys, whose harsh and untrusting representation of the Kaiser‘s wishes and ambitions even now was a smoking gun to the peace in Europe for the time being. Darlington met his duties as a counsellor for the British and received the dispatches of her Majesty‘s government in their red boxes, and read them, and acted accordingly, mainly through his manners to other diplomats, and his elegance, and his tolerance for other views. In the evenings, he usually gave dinner to the ambassadors who had held the most distinguished opinions and mixed them with the most extreme opinion-leaders and tried to counsel between them and offer his advice, and every night he wrote a report to the British Authorities, and at night Anthony was most courteous and saw to it that his lordship had all that he needed, including some sandwiches and a Gin and Tonic.

Anthony was worried all the same, for he perceived that Darlington‘s fragile health was perhaps too threatened by his ordeals. He saw to it that daily visits were severely restricted and that the conferences Darlington visited would not be too overbearing, and that his lordship did not exceed his timetables. There were to be no meetings before breakfast, and indeed not before ten o‘clock, and Anthony cared for enough spare time for his master in order to give him ample space for recovering, especially on weekends.

Darlington worked hard and fought well, and his health had much improved. he was very busy with his reports and the Prime Minister sent him a letter of great politeness, asking him to continue with his work, and whether he would consider himself able to join the Empire‘s diplomatic service, a post in Washington would be free shortly. The Lord pondered the question, but refrained from a direct answer and played for time.

And then the Princess arrived. She took a suite at the Hotel de la Paix and word got around that she intended to stay as long as the conference was in session, and she went to the theatre and the opera, and showed, to the amazement of the general public, the latest fashion of Paris during her outings, and she took Geneva‘s society by storm. Her style was widely copied by the women of importance, and her schedule increased with every day. She was sure that she would meet Darlington in no time at all, and she made sure to be invited to the British embassy‘s ball at the end of the week, and prepared to be in presence on her own, to charm the attendants of the engagement, and she would not have it that Darlington tried to avoid her. On the second day of her stay she sent word to his residence, and it was with sheer luck that Anthony intercepted her note to the lord, and he undertook it himself to let Darlington know of her presence in the right moment, for he feared that his lordship would be too distracted by her and that he would react in an unforeseeable manner, and be disturbed in his activities. One evening before the ball he informed his master of the princesses‘ presence at tomorrows ball, and Darlington took the news without to be too troubled, and indeed he was delighted by the idea to meet her again, and he sent some flowers to the hotel, and he pondered to send her a tiara in his families possession from one of his Geneva bank vaults, a diamond studded dream that had not been worn for considerable time, since his mother had died, for her last official function, as a compliment to the princesses taste and as an adornment to the ball‘s exuberance and its dazzling English ladies. He called at the Hotel and after being admitted to her presence, he produced the etui of the jewels and asked her to have the grace to accept them for the evening, and she accepted but showed no other sign of her being in love of her English admirer.

The donation of the Darlington Tiara in society was seen as a sure sign of an official engagement to the Lord, and Darlington had not thought of this symbolism, and this was due to his being distracted by some more important issues, but even the Princess seemed to be assured that she was courted by him even during the ball, for he asked her for every dance, which was duly reported in the press, and indeed they made a spectacular pair, and it was noted that Darlington had not been seen in more splendid countenance since he had arrived in Switzerland – even the French ambassador took the princess by his side and uttered under his breath “your grace has been the best influence in the history of French diplomacy and the English for some time”, and she took the compliment slightly offhand. She did not quite understand what the envoy had meant with his words for she thought only of her own happiness – she loved social functions in general and the ball provided her to exude all her charm, and she took the general adoration of her beauty and manners with the delight of every young girl that was the centre of a season.

When Darlington came to his library, he had some champagne and sat down in front of the fireplace. Anthony was present, and while Darlington opened some letters and invitations, he asked his butler offhandedly: They have offered me a position in America, how would you be pleased by some time in Washington? And Anthony did not answer, as he was not expected to, but to himself he thought, wherever, if we go together. He had had a cousin who had gone to the new world, and he knew not much about it, apart from that it was reputed to be free and all men there were indeed created equal, and that there were no class distinctions, and of the wild west he had heard, and that the land rolled on to the pacific in mind-boggling dimensions. And Darlington nodded off in his chair and asked himself just before whether a flight to the States would rescue him from the princesse´s attention.

He was found lifeless in a guild blue fauteuil that had belonged to the salons of Marie-Antoinette. He had been smoking a cigarette, whose ashes had accumulated now on the Chinese rug.

Antoine found him, thinking his Lordship had just a deep thought. He might have dozed off, in his darkblue smokingjacket, the bow tie and his velvet shoes.

Darlingtons face, rigid, but still supple somehow, wore an air of astonishement, of suprise.

Antoine knew this expression well.

Darlington was, or had been, as even Antoine, blind with tears, suddenly became aware of, wearing it when he was raging with wrath at a dinner guest who had dared to interrupt him.

Clearly his life had been far too amusing, to be ended by something as trivial as death.