CHAPTER XXII
A YOUTHFUL PATRIOT
Smith sauntered out to the terrace, looked at the sky, sniffed theroses, and sat down in the shadow of a cherry tree, cocking his feet upand resting his novel on his knees. Several hours later, aroused by themellow clash of harness and noise of wheels, he looked out over theterrace wall just in time to catch a glimpse of the victoria of hisneighbour, gold and green livery, strawberry roans, flashing wheels andall; and quite alone under her brilliant sunshade, the dark-haired girlwhom Kingsbury had decided to marry as soon as he could arrange to fallin love with her.
"I fancy she's the Countess, all right," mused Smith; "but, to me, thegirl with red hair is vastly--more--more alluring----"
The sound of wheels again broke the thread of his sleepy meditation;their dog-cart was at the gate; and presently he perceived Kingsbury,hatted and gloved to perfection, get in, take the reins from thecoachman, loop his whip, assume the posture popularly attributed topupils of Howlett, and go whirling away through the lazy sunshine of aperfect Belgian afternoon.
"The beast has lunched without me," muttered Smith, yawning and lookingat his watch. Then he got up, stretched, tinkled the bell, and when thedoll-faced maid arrived, requested an omelet a la Semois and a bottle ofclaret.
He got it in due time, absorbed it lazily, casting a weatherwise eye onthe sky at intervals with a view to afternoon fishing; but the sun wastoo bright; besides, his book had become interesting in a somewhatmaudlin fashion, inasmuch as the lovers must come to a clinch in thenext chapter or not at all.
"You can't tell in modern novels," he muttered; "a girl has a way ofside-stepping just as the bell rings: but the main guy ought to makegood within the next page or two. If he doesn't he's a dub!"
With which comment he sought his hammock for an hour's needed repose;but he had slumbered longer than that when he found himself sitting boltupright, the telephone bell ringing in his ears.
Comfortably awake now, he slid from the hammock, and, entering thehouse, stepped into the smoking-room.
"Hello!" he said, unhooking the receiver.
Kingsbury's voice replied: "I'm here in Semois-les-Bains, at the charitybazar. Can you distinguish what I say?"
"Perfectly, my Romeo! Proceed."
"I'm in a fix. Our Ambassador didn't come, and I don't know anybody totake me over and present me."
"Buy a doll, idiot!"
"Confound it, I've already bought ten! That doesn't give me theprivilege of doing anything but buying ten more. She's busy; about fivemillion people are crowding around her."
"Buy every doll she has! Put her out of business, man! Then if you can'tfix it somehow you're a cuckoo. Is the Countess the dark-haired girl?"
"Certainly."
"How do you know?"
"Isn't she here selling dolls? Didn't the paper say she was going to?"
"Yes--but hadn't you better find out for certain before you----"
"I am certain; anyway, I don't care. Smith, she is the mostradiantly----"
"All right; ring off----"
"Wait! I wanted to tell you that she has the prettiest way of smilingevery time I buy a doll. And then, while she wraps up the infernal thingin ribbons and tissue we chat a little. I'd like to murder ourAmbassador! Do you think that if I bought her entire stock----"
"Yes, I do!"
"What do you think?"
"What you do."
"But I don't think anything at all. I am asking you----"
"Try it, anyhow."
"All right. Hold the wire, Smith. I'll report progress----"
"What! Stand here and wait----"
"Don't be selfish. I'll return in a moment."
The "moment" stretched into a buzzing, crackling half hour, punctuatedby impatient inquiries from Central. Suddenly an excited: "Hello,Smith!"
"Hello, you infernal----"
"I've done it! I've bought every doll! She's the sweetest thing; I toldher I had a plan for endowing a ward in any old hospital she might name,and she thinks we ought to talk it over, so I'm going to sit out on theterrace with her--Smith!"
"What?"
"Oh, I thought you'd gone! I only wanted to say that she is far, farlovelier than I had supposed. I can't wait here talking with you anylonger. Good-by!"
"Is she the Countess?" shouted Smith incredulously. But Kingsbury hadrung off.