The Lady Paramount, by Henry 
Harland 
 
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Title: The Lady Paramount 
Author: Henry Harland 
Release Date: November 18, 2006 [EBook #19861] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADY 
PARAMOUNT *** 
 
Produced by Al Haines 
 
THE LADY PARAMOUNT 
By HENRY HARLAND
Author of 
"THE CARDINAL'S SNUFF-BOX" 
 
JOHN LANE: THE BODLEY HEAD 
LONDON & NEW YORK -- MCMII 
 
Copyright, 1902 
BY JOHN LANE 
All rights reserved 
 
To 
EDMUND GOSSE 
 
The Lady Paramount 
I 
On the twenty-second anniversary of Susanna's birth, old 
Commendatore Fregi, her guardian, whose charge, by the provisions of 
her father's will, on that day terminated, gave a festa in her honour at 
his villa in Vallanza. Cannon had been fired in the morning: 
two-and-twenty salvoes, if you please, though Susanna had protested 
that this was false heraldry, and that it advertised her, into the bargain, 
for an old maid. In the afternoon there had been a regatta. Seven tiny 
sailing-boats, monotypes,--the entire fleet, indeed, of the Reale Yacht 
Club d'Ilaria--had described a triangle in the bay, with Vallanza, Presa, 
and Veno as its points; and I need n't tell anyone who knows the island 
of Sampaolo that the Marchese Baldo del Ponte's Mermaid, English
name and all, had come home easily the first. Then, in the evening, 
there was a dinner, followed by a ball, and fire-works in the garden. 
Susanna was already staying at the summer palace on Isola Nobile, for 
already--though her birthday falls on the seventeenth of April--the 
warm weather had set in; and when the last guests had gone their way, 
the Commendatore escorted her and her duenna, the Baroness 
Casaterrena, down through the purple Italian night, musical with the 
rivalries of a hundred nightingales, to the sea-wall, where, at his private 
landing-stage, in the bat-haunted glare of two tall electric lamps, her 
launch was waiting. But as he offered Susanna his hand, to help her 
aboard, she stepped quickly to one side, and said, with a charming 
indicative inclination of the head, "The Baronessa." 
The precedence, of course, was rightfully her own. How like her, and 
how handsome of her, thought the fond old man, thus to waive it in 
favour of her senior. So he transferred his attention to the Baroness. 
She was a heavy body, slow and circumspect in her motions; but at 
length she had safely found her place among the silk cushions in the 
stern, and the Commendatore, turning back, again held out his hand to 
his sometime ward. As he was in the act of doing so, however, his ears 
were startled by a sound of puffing and of churning which caused him 
abruptly to face about. 
"Hi! Stop!" he cried excitedly, for the launch was several yards out in 
the bay; and one could hear the Baroness, equally excited, 
expostulating with the man at the machine: 
"He! Ferma, ferma!" 
"It's all right," said Susanna, in that rather deep voice of hers, tranquil 
and leisurely; "my orders." 
And the launch, unperturbed, held its course towards the glow-worm 
lights of Isola Nobile. 
The Commendatore stared. . . .
For a matter of five seconds, his brows knitted together, his mouth half 
open, the Commendatore stared, now at Susanna, now after the 
bobbing lanterns of the launch,--whilst, clear in the suspension, the 
choir of nightingales sobbed and shouted. 
"Your orders?" he faltered at last. Many emotions were concentrated in 
the pronoun. 
"Yes," said Susanna, with a naturalness that perhaps was studied. "The 
first act of my reign." 
He had never known her to give an order before, without asking 
permission; and this, in any case, was such an incomprehensible order. 
How, for instance, was she to get back to the palace? 
"But how on earth," he puzzled, "will you get back to----" 
"Oh, I 'm not returning to Isola Nobile tonight," Susanna jauntily 
mentioned, her chin a little perked up in the air. Then, with the sweetest 
smile--through which there pierced, perhaps, just a faint glimmer of 
secret mischief?--"I 'm starting on my wander-year," she added, and 
waved her hand imperially towards the open sea. 
It was a progression of surprises for the tall, thin old Commendatore. 
No sooner had Susanna thus bewilderingly spoken, than the rub and dip 
of oars became audible, rhythmically nearing; and a minute after, from 
the outer darkness, a row-boat, white and slender, manned by two 
rowers in smart nautical uniforms, shot forward into the light, and drew 
up alongside    
    
		
	
	
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