Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

722 friends. We knew several people with villas along the coast. There would be nothing remarkable about it, except my early start, which could be explained by the taking of a long excursion. I would then catch the nine o'clock train to Nice, which would get me there in plenty of time for my appointment. All was ready. I had bathed and dressed and was arranging my hair very flat to go under the golden wig, when the door opened and Bunch came in. She was fully dressed and carried a letter in her hand. “T brought this myself, Liz,’’ she said. ‘It may interfere with your plans, I was downstairs when a messenger came with it from a yacht in Monaco Harbor.” 3 She seated herself in a chair while I opened the letter and read it. I cried aloud in vexation. ‘Oh, Bunch, how supremely beastly! It’s from: Prince George of Hillenland, you know. He’s on Mr. Van Brittenden’s yacht, and they leave at midnight, and he wants to come to see me. Oh, dear, what a posi- tive nuisance! What ever shall I do?” “ You can’t very well refuse, Liz,” said Bunch in her unruffled way. “He suggests lunch,” I went on, “ but that’s impossible. Silly old George, what does he want to butt in like this fore” I was peevish about it, I must admit. And nobody ever felt so inhospitable and un- friendly. Prince George was a very old friend. We had played as children together. My father had been an intimate of the royal family. He was as nice a boy as could be, a romp and a tease—something like a brother to me. But I didn’t want him to-day. Not to-day of all days in the whole year! But, as Bunch said, how could I refuse? Bunch said she was afraid I must stay at home. I said nothing would induce me to stay at home. I was going with King Peter if I died for it. I just felt I must go. Noth- ing would have held me back. Children feel like that when they want to do a thing very badly, and people in love feel that way. I don’t know if any other people do. I told Bunch I’d ask George to dinner instead, and she was to send the note to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, the yacht as soon as I had gone. Eight o'clock dinner, That was it. A splendid idea. the yacht sailed. And he was to bring his host with him and anyone else on board. Bunch must read his answer and make all arrangements. I was going. I was going at once. Nothing would keep me from going. She implored me not to be late home. I told her she needn’t worry. King Peter was dining with the King of Maronia, in Cannes, and he would have to get back in good time. I suppose he really had made that engagement although I knew that he was not going to spend the day with his majesty, as he had told me. The King of Maronia was his godfather, I knew. He had sent me a particularly charming letter of congratulation on my engagement. I scribbled the note to Prince George and then finished my toilet with Bunch’s skillful aid. Everything went off perfectly. Nobody saw me go out into the garden. I left everything in Bunch’s capable hands, caught my train, and took a taxi from Nice station up to near the observatory, where I got off, paid the man, and watched him drive away with a beating heart, knowing that before many minutes had passed King Peter would arrive. How King Peter of Florania was enter- tained at dinner by the King of Maronia and how the Countess Cleveland entertained Prince George of Hillenland at that same repast. Such might be the fanciful-ironical title, in Boccaccio style, of this chapter of my life. King Peter’s car came swinging round a corner, mounting the hill, pulling up by my side as quietly as a snake slides through the grass. He sprang down, his blue eyes shining, that happy, schoolboy truant playing look on his face. “ Betty girl,” he said, his voice bubbling with laughter and love, “‘ you are an angel to be so punctual! And how lovely you do look.” I flushed, as I always did when he spoke to me in that voice of love. EOMIcHDoOoks:. co That gave him four hours before .