Wilfrid followed them to the end of the street, pointing his finger to
the house, and saluted.

"An Englishman did me the favour--from pure eccentricity, of course--to
save my life on that exact spot, General," said the count. "Your
countrymen usually take the other side; therefore I mention it."

As Wilfrid was directing his steps to barracks (the little stir to his
pride superinduced by these remarks having demoralized him), Count
Lenkenstein shouted: "Are you off duty? "Wilfrid had nearly replied that
he was, but just mastered himself in time. "No, indeed!" said the
count, "when you have sent up your name to a lady." This time General
Pierson put two fingers formally to his cap, and smiled grimly at the
private's rigid figure of attention. If Wilfrid's form of pride had
consented to let him take delight in the fact, he would have seen at once
that prosperity was ready to shine on him. He nursed the vexations much
too tenderly to give prosperity a welcome; and even when along with Lena,
and convinced of her attachment, and glad of it, he persisted in driving
at the subject which had brought him to her house; so that the veil of
opening commonplaces, pleasant to a couple in their position, was plucked
aside. His business was to ask her why she was the enemy of Countess
Alessandra Ammiani, and to entreat her that she should not seek to harm
that lady. He put it in a set speech. Lena felt that it ought to have
come last, not in advance of their reconciliation. "I will answer you,"
she said. "I am not the Countess Alessandra Ammiani's enemy."

He asked her: "Could you be her friend?"

"Does a woman who has a husband want a friend?"