Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

THE POINT OF VIEW lightful surprise; I knew of it,’ the Aunt Caroline said, with conscious pride, “but I would not tell you, Stella, dear, in case something might prevent it. I feared to disappoint you.” “Thank you, aunt,’ Miss Rawson said, without too much enthusiasm, and took her seat where she could see the solitary occupant of a small table, sur- rounded by the obsequious waiters, al- ready sipping his champagne. He had not looked up as they passed. Nor did he appear once to glance in their direction. His whole manner was full of the same reflective calm as the night before. And for some unaccount- able reason Stella Rawson’s heart sank down lower and lower until at the end of the repast she looked pale and tired out. Eustace, her betrothed, would be there on the morrow, and such things as drives in motor cars with strange Russian counts were only dreams, and not realities, she now felt. CHAPTER III. Next morning it fell about that Stella Rawson was allowed to go into the Museo Nazionale in the Diocletian baths, accompanied only by Martha, her uncle and aunt having decided they would take a rest and write their Eng- lish letters. The museum was so near —a mere hundred yards—there could be no impropriety in their niece going there with Martha even in an exhibi- tion year in Rome. Stella was still suffering from a nameless sense of depression. FEus- tace’s train would get in at about five o’clock, and he would accompany them to the embassy. A cousin of her own and Aunt Caroline’s was one of the secretaries, and had already been writ- ten to about the invitation. So that even if Count Roumovski should be presented to her, and make the whole thing proper and correct, she would have no chance of any conversation. The brilliant sunlight felt incongruous, and hurt her, and she was glad to enter the shady ancient baths. She had glanced furtively to right and left in I] the hotel as she came through the hall, but saw no one who resembled the Rus- sian, and they had walked so quickly through the vestibule she had not re- marked a tall figure coming from the staircase, nor had seen him give some rapid order to a respectful servant who was waiting about, and who instantly followed them. But if she had looked up as she paid for the two tickets at the barrier of the museum she would have seen this same lean man turn swiftly round and retreat in the direc- tion of the hotel. Martha was sulky and comatose on this very warm morning. She took no interest in sculpture. ‘Them naked creatures,’ she called any masterpieces undraped; and she _ resented being dragged out by Miss Stella, who al- ways had had fancies for-art. They walked round the cloisters first, a voyage of discovery to Miss Rawson, who looked a slim enough nymph her- self in her lilac cambric frock and de- mure gray hat shading her big brown eyes. Then suddenly from across the gar- den in the center she became aware that an archaic Apollo, clad in modern dress, had entered upon the scene, and the blood rushed to her cheeks, and her heart beat. Martha puffed with the heat and ex- ercise, and glanced with longing eyes at a comfortable stone bench in the shade. “Would you like to rest here, Mar- tha, you old dear?’ Miss Rawson said. ‘There is not a creature about, and l| will walk round and join you from the other side.” The Aunt Caroline’s elderly maid easily agreed to this. It was true there did not seem to be any one adventur- ous looking, and Miss Stella would be more or less under her eye—and she was thoroughly tired with traveling and what not. So Stella found herself hap- pily unchaperoned, except by Baedeker, as she strolled on. The Russian had disappeared from view ; the bushes and vases in the cen- ter of the garden plot gave only occa- sional chances to see people at a dis- tance. (EO) 0)(0(0) (CG ) S (C@ im