Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

706 I left them to amuse themselves and Bunch and I went to change. She smiled at me quizzically as we stopped in front of my rooms. ‘“‘ What about the dancing to-night, Liz?” she asked. “Tve a bad headache,” I answered promptly. ‘‘ Bunch, it’s true. Oh, I do bore him so!” “But Betty Fane didn’t!” she said un- screwing her eyes and looking suddenly grave. “It positively amazes me that he doesn’t know you.” So it did me, When I thought of how he had held me in his arms and kissed me under the trees in Hyde Park, how his voice had rung so passionately miserable in my ears. How could he not know that I was Betty Fane, the girl he said he loved, the girl he whispered to in that won- derful voice that made her forget every- thing else on earth? I was awfully fussy over my dressing. | looked very pale, really ill. My maid had laid out the frock I had chosen, a dead white ¢eau de soie, the skirt full and rather long, and stiffiy bunched out on the hips. It had deep bertha of silver lace and a flounce of silver lace round the hem. I never wore anything but pearls in those days and generally only one string. But that night the fancy seized me—TI couldn’t say why, it was a mad fancy—to wear that deep dog collar of blue-black sapphires that had given me such a strange sinister feeling when I examined it on my twenty-first birthday. It went with my engagement ring. As it was fastened round my neck, I seemed to hear those first sweeping dragging bars of the “Sable Night ” waltz. I told my maid to fetch another larger and longer row of pearls besides my usual one. She scrutinized me with her sparkling black eyes. “ Milady est ravissante ce soir!” she ex- claimed. “‘ Quel chic! Quelle originalité!” I saw the king’s eyes rest on me with astonishment, as he arrived. -Decidedly, there was a gleam of interest in his blue eyes. I felt myself flushing with shame. I kad dressed myself up like a doll to attract his gaze. “Dear Elizabeth,’ tinkled Laline de ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Chanterelle, “how wonderful you look! Is there a reception at the palace by any chance?” How I loathed her ass-like tongue. She gave her question such a perfectly natural tone. The Prince of Monaco was in resi- dence, and there might have been a recep- tion. But she knew perfectly well that there was not. I felt ashamed and humili- ated. I had over dressed myself. It was vulgar parading in those pearls and sap- phires, worth a fortune before these other girls so simply dressed. The princess wore her favorite flesh pink crepe de chine with a gold, heavily-fringed sash, and golden slippers sewn with old paste, so that her feet looked like Cinderella’s at the ball. She wore a lot of rubies too, but then her jewels seemed part of her, and she was a married woman. From the very outset I was uncomfort- able. Nothing could have given me back my poise that night. King Peter paid me his very first compliment as I went in to dinner with him. “You look like an Infanta of Spain, by Valesquez,” he said. ‘“ So black and white and gray—and your lips so red.”’ T flushed crimson and gave him such a Stupid look that he laughed a little at my embarrassment. ‘““Wasn’t that in the bargain, milady?” he whispered mischievously. ‘‘ Not a single pretty speech!” Oh, how my heart was bursting! What could I say? [I knew he was only playing with me. He had no feeling for me—for Elizabeth Cleveland, who was to be his queen. He still thought me dull and heavy. Only—just for once I had dressed myself richly and put on costly jewels—most un- suitable to my age and position. In fact, I had forced his attention by a trick. T was soon to find out for how little it counted. After dinner the musicians arrived. The women went upstairs to titivate. The men were still in the dining room when I came down. I ran into the ballroom and spoke to the leader of the orchestra. “J do not want you to play the ‘ Sable Night’ waltz,’ I told him. I had heard it at every restaurant in Monte Carlo— COMmMicoookS.se©