Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

- = <= - = 2 - 520 ther’s daughter ought to, anyhow. Don’t be hurried, Elizabeth my dear. Take your time.” That afternoon the Princess de Chante- relle called on me. She brought her brother with her, Lord Maurice Angell. I had heard that he was a noted lady killer. He certainly was awfully good looking in that lazy way of very fair men. He drawled and lounged, and his voice was too soft. It hadn’t any character, any vivacity. The kind of man’s voice that impressed me was the kind that made me feel queer. I could not express it otherwise to myself. And that was what King Peter’s voice did to me. It wasn’t musical; it was rather harsh. But it went through you, and when it was tender it made you want to cry. Lord Maurice made himself awfully agreeable to me. He was a good tennis player, and, hearing we were going south, he said we must get some games together at Cannes and Monte Carlo. I couldn’t help thinking him rather nice, and of course his handsomeness appealed to me. He was really a godlike creature, so tall and well- made, and such wonderful sun-golden col- oring. His only faults were that his fore- head was rather low and his wonderful hazel eyes were a little too close together. The princess invited me to dine quite informally that evening. She said on Sun- days they had regular picnic meals, and everybody helped themselves. There would only be themselves and Lord Maurice and one or two cousins and King Peter. It would have been amusing if it hadn’t been hateful—the assured, careless way in which she spoke of him as if he didn’t count at all. I supposed she thought of him as a slave, just waiting to obey her lightest whim, I accepted for Bunch and myself. She was so lovely it simply hurt me to look at her. So pinky white, so dainty, so wonder- ful, with her dark purple eyes and her rich golden hair, and her nameless air of arro- gance and carelessness. What a queen she would make, I thought miserably. Of course, I was dying to see the king again; and in a cruel, angry way I wanted to see them together. Cruel to myself, be- cause I knew beforehand that I should be ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. a silly gawk again when I met him as my- self, | Lord Maurice asked to see the pictures in the gallery. He was awfully keen on the surface. I had to show them to him. They are nearly all old masters. I was sure he was not really a bit impressed, and didn’t know a Luini from a Cimabue. But he talked a great deal of nonsense to me, and somehow he gave me rather a sicken- ing sense of deliberately making up to me. I suppose his manners would be thought very fascinating. I might have been the only. person in the world worth considering. But—my horrid money in the background! I could not help wondering if that was what put the melting light into his golden hazel eyes. And I felt a pig for wondering. I was getting perfectly horrid. ‘“ For goodness’ sake, do dress up a bit!” said Bunch to me that evening. “ You made the very worst of yourself at the De Chanterelles the other night.” One couldn’t dress up very much for what the hostess described as a picnic meal. But I did try to make myself look decent. There was a fatality about it. I chose an emerald green gown. It was a color that rather suited me. Unfortunately, when I got to Belgrave Square I found the princess in a wonderful crimson tinsel brocade frock, with strange pinkish and yellowish lights in it. It made my dress look awful. And I developed a sick headache, through excitement, I ex- pect, and my face took on a faint greenish hue. And coming out of the room where we had taken our cloaks off, I trod on a long hanging end of my sash and my foot went right through the thin stuff, and the prin- cess’s maid had to come and sew it up, and that made me late, so that I hurried down and lost my way on the stairs, Bunch hav- ing gone down before me, in case the king had joined the party in the drawing-room. And then I happened on a scene that turned me sick and giddy. Having lost my way, I found myself at the end of a long corridor, very dimly lit, and with heavy velvet curtains drawn across the tall win- dows. And as I came along, I heard a voice—the princess’s. It was angry, with (COMIC OO KS yO) im