Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

708 ‘““T think it dreadfully overdone,” I re- plied. He was silent a moment. How little he knew that I felt what he was feeling— those breathless, mad, unforgettable mo- ments! Then he said, with a little cold laugh: “Tt agree with you; it’s horribly over- cone.”’ And it seemed to me that I saw sheer dislike in his blue eyes. Just before they left, the princess came to my side, as we left the supper room. She linked her arm in mine. ‘“ My dear, how has he kept so long from Mme. Delsarte?” she whispered. ‘‘ You won’t have a chance to see him for a day or two now.” The fact was I did not. : I had charming notes from him each day, saying that he had, unfortunately, state business to attend to, and Baron Leomar and he had a private meeting with a certain very powerful statesman of an- othersrealm at Cannes, where the latter was staying. It was more convenient, from every point of view, to hold the meeting there. There might or might not have been such a meeting, but I visualized Fay Delsarte’s villa near Nice, and I raged in impotent fury and wallowed in jealous misery. Tat was what he had come to the Riviera for. Not to see me; not to see Laline, even, although she had.a far greater » hold over him than ever I would have. At least, he had loved her, if he did not love her now. They had memories; they were intimate. There was nothing between him and me. I laughed at myself when I re- alized how simple I had been. I had just thought of the princess as my only rival. I had never imagined that calm-browed, still-eyed woman who held him, mind and heart and soul, from whom he might fit in his lighter moments to sip at other flowers, but to whom he would always re- turn. No, Laline de Chanterelle was a fellow victim. I could have almost felt sorry for her but that I knew she hated me. On the third morning, I received a note from the king, asking me to drive over to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Nice with him to lunch with a relation of his, the very aged Grand Duchess of Ferrara. He wrote in his facetious way, I re- member, that the “old girl ” was very ex- clusive. He believed she was about a hun- dred, and she had outlived all her relatives and never saw a soul but her ancient Jadies- in-waiting and still more ancient dogs. But she wanted to see me, We drove up behind Nice to an imposing chateau. All the while I was wondering, wondering where Mme. Delsarte’s villa was. I knew it was above the coast—the princess had said vaguely between Monte Carlo and Nice. King Peter drove himself in an open car and I sat beside him. Once I saw him look up to the hills on our right, and a half smile came and went in a flash over his face, and I felt it must be somewhere up there. The old grand duchess was wonderful, very small and all white, hair, face, clothes, ermine wrap, pearls galore, and her tiny, exquisite hands blazing with diamonds. Her eyes were still as blue as the sea beneath her windows, She remembered my father as a boy, and said very nice things about him. She was terribly frank. She had me alone with her for a little while after the meal. ‘“‘T hope you are not angry with me, my dear,” she said. ‘It was I who suggested you to.Leomar as Peter’s bride. Do you think you have made a good bargain?” She chuckled as if she were consumedly amused. I was mortified, but there was something so genuine about her that I could not take her words amiss. ‘““T was not obliged to consent, ma’am.” I answered trying to be very calm. “Of course not. That you did shows me that you have character. But I don’t think a throne would tempt you. So there must be something else. Peter has lots of good in him. I have watched him from a child. He’s a young rascal, of course, but then we women like rascals, don’t we? Take a word from an old woman, child. Bear with him. Remember what his life Commicoooks (S@)