Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

34 and rejoin her husband and Mr. Medli- cott, who were awaiting her at the lift on the other side—the restaurant end— which was the one they were accus- tomed to descend by. “She ran away from me, Erasmus!” the agitated lady cried. “Passed me without a word, and I suppose she has gone down the stairs. If we hasten in the lift we shall catch her.” But as they frantically rang the bell and the lift boy did not come, Eustace Medlicott, with a most unsaintly ex- clamation, hastened off by that stair- case, and arrived in the hall to see the hated Russian calmly smoking his ciga- rette and reading an English paper. He advanced upon him, regardless of the numbers of people beginning to assemble for tea. “What have you done with Miss Rawson?” he said furiously. “She has this moment run away from her aunt.” “T have nothing to converse with you about,” Count Roumovski returned, with mild surprise. “And as I see it is four o’clock I must wish you a good day, as I have an appointment.” With which he rose quietly, before the other could prevent him, and crossed the broad path of carpet which separates the groups of chairs, and there was seen to enter into earnest conversation with a Russian-looking individual who had just entered. The Reverend Mr. Medlicott was nonplused, and hurried into the front vestibule, where he made rapid in- quiries of the hall porter. Yes, the young lady, he believed, had walked out of the hotel not two minutes before. Monsieur would overtake her certainly if he hastened. And the fran- tic young man rushed from the door, through the porte-cochére, and so to the street; but all he saw in the far dis- tance was a retreating, large blue auto- mobile; and this conveyed, among all the rest of the traffic, no impression whatever. To search for Stella was hopeless; the only thing to do was to return to the Ebleys, and with them go to the embassy. There they could, perhaps, AINSLEE’S get advice and help how to communi- cate with the police. But what an ignominious position for a bishop’s junior chaplain to be placed in—a humiliation in every way. CHAPTER VIII. When Stella found the automobile drawing up at a strange hotel’s door her tremors broke out afresh—until she saw the face of Ivan, who, with the porter, came forward to meet her, say- ing respectfully, in French, would ma- demoiselle be pleased to mount directly to the rooms reserved for the Princess Urazov? And soon, without any one, questioning her, she found herself being taken up in the lift, and finally ush- ered into a charming sitting room full of flowers. Here she sat down and _ trembled again. The wildest excitement filled her veins. Would Sasha never come! She could not sit still; she walked from bouquet to bouquet of roses and car- nations, sniffing the scent, and at last subsided into a big armchair as the waiters brought in some tea. He thought of everything for her, then—her lover. But, oh, why did he not come! She had finished her tea, and had begun her restless pacing again, when, with a gentle tap, the door opened, and Count Roumovski appeared. “Sasha!” she cried, and advanced to- ward him like a frightened child. His usually calm blue eyes were blaz- ing with some emotion which disturbed her greatly, she knew not why; and his voice seemed to have taken on a tone of extra deepness as he said: “Stella, my little star! And so you are really here, and my own = He put his strong hands down and held onto the back of a chair, and, sim- ple as she was, she knew very well that otherwise he would have taken her into his arms, which was where she was longing to be—if she had known. “Yes, I have come,” she whispered. “T have left them all—for you Oh, when will your sister be here?” “Not until six o’clock, darling,” he (C@ ANU OOK (C@