The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 188: what you’re looking at

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

178 “T still feel a little strange with the prince,” said Anne. “T am here to devote myself to the task of making you better acquainted,” replied Carlos. ‘‘We will begin to-morrow morn- ing promptly at 9.30.” He held out his hand in a friendly good night. He stepped toward the slender pillar by which he expected to gain his balcony; then he stopped, laughing softly. “When I arrived I upset the whole house,” he chuckled. ‘Instead of accept- ing the royal suite which had been pre- pared for me, I chose my present quar- ters. I had inquired and learned that your apartment was down here. With your terrace so easily accessible, I would have defied the custom of all the princes in Christendom.” “Whoever heard of a prince anywhere but in the royal suite?” laughed Anne. “T am sadly afraid you like playing Carlos better than the prince.” “When you begin to be as kind to the prince as you were to Carlos—” he began unsteadily. “No, no.” Anne put out a protesting hand. “We agreed not to talk about it, you know, till to-morrow.” When the next morning came, however, Anne found the sunshine warm instead of cold. The whole day was so full of joy and happiness and light-heartedness she could not bring herself to spoil it with serious talk. Thus day after day slipped by, and Anne shrank more and more from what she knew must come, and coming would be the end. For a prince and an American girl there was no future. Carlos seemed .to have accepted, and to feel satisfied with the present. But Anne’s heart misgave her, for she realized that the long, happy days were only making the end more difficult. When alone in her room, she felt strong in her grim resolve. Each night she would promise herself: “To-morrow we will have our talk. Then Carlos will go back to the palace at Labeaulieu and will marry some stupid THE ARGOSY. princess. I will go to Paris to Aunt Julia. I will take the memory of these days, and will tie it up and will lock it up with some fresh lavender. No one will ever know what is hidden away in that closed crawer—not even Biggs. “Tt can’t go on. It must not go on.” She would get up and walk nervously about the room. ‘To-morrow will be the end.” In the morning Anne would keep her hands clenched and her lips firm as she started out to meet the waiting Carlos. His quick step of pleasure toward her, his eyes so shiny with joy and happiness, made Anne’s hands go out in response to his, and her lips tremble into a smile as she whispered to herself: “Not to-day—to-morrow.” VI. “Buccs,” said Anne abruptly one even- ing as they sat together in their private parlor, “did you ever realize that to-mor- row is always to-morrow; it is never to- day?” “To-morrow is to-morrow,” repeated the bewildered Biggs. She tilted her head in a listening attitude. ‘‘What is that?” she asked. “Sounds like serenading,” and Anne stepped out on the terrace. On the ground below she could make out the dim figures of men. “Anne.” The voice came from the shadow against the house where it was darkest. “Tt almost looks as if the prince were in hiding.” Anne glanced from the shadow to the men below. “Don’t you know it? It’s our national hymn. They’ve come to serenade me, but I don’t want them to see me. They’ve heard already that I’m leaving.” “Leaving!” It was what Anne had been anticipating, but now that it had come she felt weak and dizzy. “War had been declared!” Time was short, and Carlos had to hurry. “It may mean that every country in Europe will be in it before the end.” Go OOOLK (C@