Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 3, 1924 — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

398 And before me rose once again the white face, the still eyes, the calm, prophetic brow of Fay Delsarte. -She was the woman he meant. How could it be otherwise? Had he not sent for her to tend and comfort him? I had been a fool to imagine that he cared for Betty Fane. Perhaps he had parted from Mme. Delsarte. He said he would never see her again. This new strength I found in him, this new maturity —perhaps it meant that he had put her out of his life, that on our marriage he must give himself entirely to his duties, to his country, to his people. But, as far as I was concerned, it would be all the same. Fay Delsarte and her memory would dwell in his innermost heart. We shook hands. “ Good-by,” he said. ‘“ We shall meet again soon. You have been infinitely gen- erous. I will try to show my gratitude.” Gratitude! What a cold word—when all my being thirsted for his love. His love— that might have been mine as Betty Fane, and that I had had to fling away for fear that in claiming it in the teeth of his pride, I might lose it forever. CHAPTER XVI. LORD MAURICE FORGETS IIIMSELF. DID not see King Peter again until the end of April, when he came to England on a state visit, which lasted only three days. The court was at Windsor, and Bunch and I stayed at the castle. There was a banquet and theatrical per- formance the first night. On the second day the king went to London to receive the freedom of the city and lunch at the Guild- hall. That night there was a gala perform- ance at the opera. On the third day there was a review of troops at Aldershot, King Peter taking the salute, and afterwards rid- ing at the head of the regiment of which he is Honorary Colonel in Chief, the Ninety- Ninth Hussars. The fourth day we left the castle, and he and Bunch and I traveled up to Cleve- land Hall in a special train. We lunched ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. in my home, and afterwards motored over to Kalshot to inspect the race horses, and particularly the wonderful filly Bread and Butter, who was entered for three of the classic races of that year and won them all. Peter was crazy about her. I had hardly seen him alone during the visit, but there, on the upland windy heath, watching the string of graceful creatures being pa- raded, he was quite transformed. Eager boyish delight shone in his eyes. He loved those beautiful animals; he adored them. Not one of their points was lost ‘on him. He gazed speechlessly at Bread and Butter for a long while, and then he exclaimed in a voice throbbing with excitement: ‘She is a marvel—a miracle!” The horses took to him at once. Bread and Butter pushed her nose into his pocket, as he patted her satiny chestnut neck. She was rewarded by her usual little apple, and her friendly whinnies followed us as we walked back to the car. She was, I think, the most perfect tempered horse that ever lived. ‘“Oh, but this is a life worth living,” cried King Peter. And he looked from the beautiful landscape over the workmanlike buildings of the training stables, a little village in themselves, with their dispensary and their artesian well and their clock tower, and Mr. George, the trainer’s pretty house and grounds, and he looked back at me almost enviously. My heart sank a little because I knew he was thinking of the power of my money. It was a wonderful day for me. I had so pined for a sight of him during our busy time in Paris, I had been so miserable because of Laline de Chanterelle’s letters from Rosenal, the Capital of Florania, tell- ing me always horrid bits of scandal about him and Mme. Delsarte who was at her beautiful seaside residence only a few miles from the city. I had asked myself over and over again why I was going on with it, whether it was worth while. Betty Fane had accomplished nothing. No doubt, if he thought of her at all, it’ was as a little girl who had passed some pleasant hours away. It was the white-faced Fay Delsarte who held him. But when he came, everything vanished COmMiCoool ©