Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

8 AINSLEE’S well knew, was fairly accurate in her recounting of the information she picked up. This luridly extravagant ficture, however, did not appall her. And she found herself constantly dwell- ing upon it and the stranger all the time she followed her relations about in the gorgeous church. ~ Fate did not seem to be going to smule upon the drive project, however, for Mrs. Ebley, far from appearing tired, actually proposed tea in the hall when they got in; and there sat for at least half an hour, while Stella saw Count Roumovski come in and sit down and leisurely begin a cigarette as he glanced at an Italian paper. He was so intensely still, always peace seemed to breathe from his atmosphere; but the very sight of him appeared to exas- perate the Aunt Caroline more and more. “| wonder that man is not ashamed to be seen in a respectable place,” she snapped, “with his long hair and _ his bracelet—such effeminacy is perfectly disgusting, Erasmus.” _ “T really cannot help it, my dear,’ Canon Ebley replied irritably, “and I rather like his face.” Erasmus!” was all Mrs. Ebley could say, and prepared to return to her room. Dinner would be at a quarter to eight, she told Stella at her door, and recommended an hour's quiet read- ing up of the guidebook while resting to her niece. It was a quarter to six before Miss Rawson descended the stairs to the hall again. She had deliberately made up her mind; she would go and drive with the count. She would live and amuse herself if it was only for this once in her life, come what might of it! And since he would be presented with all respectable ceremony at the embassy the following night, it could not matter a bit—and if it did Well, she did not care! He was sitting there as immovable as before, and she thrilled as she crossed the hall. She was so excited and frightened that she could almost have turned back when she reached the street, but there, standing by the trees, ‘seemed to be urging her on. was a large blue motor car, and as she advanced the chauffeur stepped for- ward and opened the door, and she got in—and before she had time to realize what she had done, Count Roumovski had joined her, and sat down by her side. “You have no wrap,” he said. “I thought you would not have, so I had prepared this’—and he indicated a man’s gray, Russian, unremarkable- looking cloak, which, however, proved to be lined with fine sable—‘‘and here also is a veil. If you will please me by putting them on, we can then have the auto open, and no one will recog- nize you—even should we meet your uncle and aunt. That is fun, is it not?” Stella had thrown every considera- tion to the winds, except the determina- tion to enjoy herself. Years of rebel- lion at the boredom of her existence So she meekly slipped into the cloak, and wrapped the veil right over her hat, and they started. Her heart was thumping so with excitement she could not have spoken for a moment. But as they went rapidly on through the crowded streets her companion’s re- spectful silence reassured her. There seemed to be some rapport between them; she was conscious of a feeling that he understood her thoughts and was not misjudging her. “You are like a little, frightened bird,” he said presently. ‘“‘And there is nothing to cause you the least fear. We shall soon come to the lovely gardens, and watch the lowering sun make its beautiful effects in the trees, and we shall hear the nightingales throbbing out love songs. The world is full of rest and peace—when we have had enough passion and strife and want its change—but you do not know anything of it, and this simple drive is causing you tumults and emotions, is it not so?”’ “Yes,” said Stella, with a feeling that she had burned all her ships. “It is because you have never been allowed to be you, I. suppose,” he went on softly. “So doing a natural and sim- ple thing seems frightful, because it would seem so to the rigid aunt. Now, (C@ AMC OOK