CHAPTER III
THE WHITE LADY
"I feel in a gay mood," said Nan, as she clasped Patty round the waist,and always ready for a dance, Patty fell into step, and the two waltzedround the room, while Patty sang tum-te-tum to the air of a popular song.
"As if you two ever felt any other way!" exclaimed Mr. Fairfield, smilingat them from the depths of his easy chair. "But what does this gay moodbetoken? I suppose you want to drag me out to the theatre or operato-night."
Mr. Fairfield's pleasant smile belied his pretense at sharpness, and hewaited to hear a reply.
"That would be lovely," said Nan, "and we'll go if you invite us. Butwhat I had in mind is this: I'd like to dine in the Restaurant."
"Good!" cried Mr. Fairfield. "I feel gay enough for that, myself, and wehaven't dined there for nearly a week."
The Fairfields had a complete apartment of their own, and when notinvited out, usually dined quietly in their own dining-room. Butoccasionally, when the mood took them, they dined in the great SavoyRestaurant, which was a festive pageant indeed.
Patty loved to sit at a table there, and watch the beautiful women intheir elaborate gowns, and their handsome, stalwart escorts, who weresometimes in brave uniforms.
The splendid scene would have palled upon them, had they dined thereevery evening, but as a change from their small family dinner it wasdelightful.
"We'll wear our dress-up frocks," said Patty, "and perhaps my White Ladywill be there again."
"Your White Lady?" asked Nan. "Who is she?"
"That's just what I can't find out, though I've asked several people. Butshe's the most beautiful lady, with a haughty, proud face, and sad eyes.She always wears white, and there's an elderly lady who is sometimes withher. A strange-looking old lady in black, she is; and her face is like ahawk's."
"Oh, I remember those people; they always sit at the same table." "Yes, Ithink they live here. But she is so sweet and lovely I'd like to knowher. I make up stories about her all to myself. She's like Ginevra or theLady of Shalott."
"You're too fanciful, Patty. Probably she's the Duchess of Hardscrabble."
"She looks like a Duchess, anyway. And also, she looks like a simple,sweet, lovely lady. I'm going to ask father to find out who she is."
A little later the Fairfields went down to dinner.
Nan wore an exquisite gown of embroidered yellow satin, and Patty wore afrilled white silk muslin. It was a little low at the throat, and wasvery becoming to her, and in and out of her piled-up curls was twisted abroad white ribbon, which ended in front in a saucy cluster of bows,after the prevailing fashion.
"This is great fun," said Patty, as she took her seat with a little sighof content. "I just love the lights and flowers and music and noise----"
"Can you distinguish the music from the noise?" asked her father,laughing.
"I can if I try, but I don't care whether I do or not. I love the wholeconglomeration of sounds. People laughing and talking, and a sort ofundertone of glass and china and waiters."
"That sounds graphic," said Nan, "but the waiters here aren't supposed tomake any noise."
"No, I know it, but they're just part of the whole scene, and it's allbeautiful together. Oh, there's my White Lady!"
It was indeed a charming young woman who was just entering the room. Shewas tall and very slender, with a face serene and sweet. Her large, darkeyes had a look of resignation, rather than sadness, but the firm set ofher scarlet lips did not betoken an easily-resigned nature.
With her was the elder lady of whom Patty had spoken. She wassharp-featured and looked as if she were sharp-tempered. She wore arather severe evening gown of black net, and in her gray hair was aquivering black aigrette.
In contrast to this dark figure, the younger lady looked specially fairand sweet. Her trailing gown was of heavy white lace, and round herbeautiful throat were two long strings of pearls. She wore no otherornament save for a white flower in her hair, and her shoulders and armswere almost as white as the soft tulle that billowed against them.
It chanced that Mr. Fairfield's table was quite near the one usuallyoccupied by these two, and Patty watched the White Lady, without seemingto stare at her.
"Isn't she exquisite?" she said, at last, for they were not withinearshot, and Nan agreed that she was.
As the dinner proceeded, Patty glanced often at the lady of heradmiration, and after a time was surprised and a little embarrassed tofind that the White Lady was glancing at her.
Fearing she had stared more frankly than she realised, Patty refrainedfrom looking at the lady again, and resolutely kept her eyes turned inother directions.
But as if drawn by a magnet, she felt impelled to look at her once more,and giving a quick glance, she saw the White Lady distinctly smiling ather. There was no mistake, it was a kind, amused little smile of a mostfriendly nature.
Patty was enchanted, and the warm blood rushed to her cheeks as if shehad been singled out for a great honour. But frankly, and withoutembarrassment, she smiled back at the lovely face, and returned thepleased little nod that was then given her.
"Patty, what _are_ you doing?" said Nan; "do you see any one you know?"
"No," said Patty, slowly, almost as one in a dream, "my White Lady smiledat me,--that's all,--so I smiled back at her, and then we bowed."
"You mustn't do such things," said Nan, half smiling herself, "she'llthink you're a forward American."
"I am an American," replied Patty, "and I'd be sorry to be calledbackward."
"You never will be," said her father. "Well, I suppose you may smile ather, if she smiles first, but don't begin sending her anonymous notes."
"Nonsense," said Patty, "but you two don't know how lovely she is whenshe smiles."
Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield were seated with their backs to the lady inquestion, and could not see her without slightly turning their heads,while Patty, opposite them at the round table, faced her directly.
"You're fortunate in your position," observed her father, "for were youseated here and we there, of course she would have beamed upon us."
"She isn't beaming," cried Patty, almost indignantly; "I won't have thatangelic smile called a beam. Now, you're not to tease. She's a sweet,dear lady, with some awful tragedy gnawing at her heart."
"Patty, you're growing up romantic! Stop it at once. I'll buy the ladyfor you, if you want her, but I won't have you indulging in rubbishyromance like that, with nothing to base it on."
Patty looked at her father comically.
"I don't believe you'd better buy her, Daddy, dear," she said. "You knowyou often say that, with Nan and me on your hands, you have all you canmanage. So I'm sure you couldn't add those two to your collection; for Ifeel certain wherever the White Lady goes the Black Lady goes too."
The subject was lost sight of then, by the greetings of some friends whowere passing by the Fairfields on their way out of the Restaurant.
"Why, Mrs. Leigh," exclaimed Nan, "how do you do? Won't you and Mr. Leighsit down and have coffee with us? Or, better yet, suppose we all go up toour drawing-room and have coffee there."
After Patty had spoken to the newcomers and was sitting silent while herelders were talking, she looked up in surprise as a waiter approachedher. He laid a long-stemmed white rose beside her plate, and said,quietly, "From Lady Hamilton, Miss."
Involuntarily, Patty glanced at the White Lady, and seeing her smile,knew at once that she had sent the rose.
As Patty explained the presence of the flower to the others, Mrs. Leighglanced across, and said: "Oh, that's Lady Hamilton! Excuse me, I mustspeak to her just a moment."
"Who is Lady Hamilton?" asked Nan of Mr. Leigh, unable longer to repressher interest.
"One of the best and most beautiful women in London," he replied. "One ofthe most indifferent, and the most sought after; one of the richest, andthe saddest; one of the most popular, and the loneliest."
All this seemed enough to verify Patty's surmises of romance connectedwit
h the White Lady, but before she could ask a question, Mrs. Leighreturned, and Lady Hamilton came with her. After introductions and a fewwords of greeting, Lady Hamilton said to Mr. Fairfield: "I wonder if youcouldn't be induced to lend me your daughter for an hour or so. I will domy best to entertain her."
"Indeed, yes, Lady Hamilton; and I think you will find her quite ready tobe borrowed. You seemed to cast a magic spell over her, even before sheknew your name."
"I must confess that I have been wanting to meet her; I have searchedthis room in vain for some mutual friend who might introduce us, butuntil I saw Mrs. Leigh over here, I could find no one. Then, to attractMrs. Leigh's attention, in hope of her helping me, I sent over a signalof distress."
"I took it as a flag of truce," said Patty, holding up the white rose asit trembled on its stem.
"I thought it was a cipher message," said Nan, smiling. "Patty is so fondof puzzles and secret languages, I wasn't sure but it might mean 'All isdiscovered; fly at once!'"
"It means 'all is well'," said Lady Hamilton, in her gracious way; "andnow I must fly at once with my spoil."
She took possession of Patty, and with a few words of adieu to theothers, led her from the room. The lady in black rose from the table andfollowed them, and Patty entered the lift, blissfully happy, but a littlebewildered.
"We'll have our coffee right here," said Lady Hamilton, as having reachedher drawing-room, she proceeded to adjust some dainty gilt cups thatstood on a small table. "That is, if you are allowed to have coffee atnight. From your roseleaf cheeks, I fancy you drink only honeydew orbuttercup tea."
"No, indeed; I'm far too substantial for those things," said Patty, asshe dropped into the cosy chair Lady Hamilton had indicated; "and forover a year now, I've been allowed to have after-dinner coffee."
"Dear me! what a grown-up! Miss Fairfield, this is Mrs. Betham, my verygood friend, who looks after me when I get frisky and try to scrapeacquaintance across a public dining-room."
If Lady Hamilton was lovely when she was silent, she was doublybewitching when she talked in this gay strain. Little dimples came andwent in her cheeks, so quickly that they had scarcely disappeared beforethey were back again.
Mrs. Betham bowed and spoke politely to Patty, but her voice was quickand sharp, and her manner, though courteous, was not attractive.
"I doubt the coffee's hot," she said, as a waiter, who had just broughtit in, was filling the tiny cups.
"It's steaming," said Lady Hamilton, gaily, and Patty saw at once thatwhatever it was that made her new friend sorrowful, it was not thegrumbling tones of Mrs. Betham.
"It's quite too hot, Julia," she went on; "unless you're careful, you'llsteam your throat."
"Not I," growled Mrs. Betham. "I'm not such a stupid as that. But I mustsay I like my coffee at a table like a Christian, and not setting my cupin my lap, or holding it up in the air."
"Dear me, Julia," said Lady Hamilton, with great solicitude expressed onher face; "dear me, your gout must be very bad to-night. It makes youquite cross. Poor dear!"
Mrs. Betham sniffed at this, but a grim smile came into her eyes, andPatty concluded she was not quite so grumpy as she seemed.
After the coffee was finished, and the tray taken away, Mrs. Bethamexcused herself and went off to her own room.
"The way it began," said Lady Hamilton, as if to explain her interest inPatty, "was one day when I went through the corridors and passed yourdrawing-room, and the door was a little mite ajar, and I heard yousinging. I am very fond of just that high, sweet kind of voice that youhave, and I paused a few moments to listen to you. Then afterward I sawyou in the dining-room two or three times at luncheon or dinner, and Itook a fancy to know you, for I felt sure I should like you. Do you mindcoming to see me once in a while, my dear? I am very lonely."
"Mind! No, indeed!" cried Patty, impetuously throwing her arms around hernew friend. "I loved you the first time I ever saw you. But why do yousay you are lonely? You, a great lady."
"I will tell you my story in a few words," said Lady Hamilton. "For Isuppose you would hear it from others, and I would rather tell it youmyself. I am the daughter of Sir Otho Markleham. Of course, if you were aLondoner, you would know all this, but as you're not, I'll tell you.Well, I am Sir Otho's only daughter, and four years ago, when I was justeighteen, I ran away from home and married Lord Cecil Hamilton. He was agood man, but he had quarrelled with my father on a point of politics,and my father disapproved of the match. He disowned me as his daughter,though he said he would always continue the allowance I had had as agirl. I was glad of this, not only because Lord Hamilton, though a man ofgood fortune, was not a wealthy man, but also because it seemed to showmy father had not entirely cast me off. But he forbade us to go to hishouse, and we went to Paris and lived there for a year. After one year ofhappy married life Cecil died, and since then my only aim in life hasbeen to be reconciled to my father. But he will not have it, or at leasthe won't have it unless I make the first overtures toward peace."
"And won't you?" cried Patty, in astonishment.
"Not I! I am not to blame. The two men quarrelled, and now that Cecil isgone, why should my father hold the feud against me? It is not my placeto ask his pardon; I've done nothing wrong."
"You ran away from home," said Patty, thinking only of the justice of thecase, and quite forgetting that she was seeming to censure a titledEnglish lady.
"Yes, but that was not wrong. Father knew that Cecil was a fine,honourable man, of an old family. He had no right to forbid my marriagebecause of a foolish personal disagreement."
"Your mother?" said Patty.
"My mother died when I was a child," said Lady Hamilton, and at oncePatty felt a new bond of companionship.
"I lived alone with my father, in our great house in London, and I had ahappy and uneventful life, until Cecil came. Since his death, I've longedso to go home to my father, and be at peace with him, but though manykind friends have tried to bring about a reconciliation, they haven'tbeen able to do so."
"And so you live here alone at the Savoy?"
"Yes, with Mrs. Betham, who is really an old dear, though sometimes shegrumbles terribly."
"And do you go into society?"
"I've begun to go a little, of late. Cecil made me promise I'd never wearblack dresses, so I've worn white only, ever since he died, and I supposeI always shall. That is, in the house. I have black street gowns. But Ican't seem to care for gay parties as I used to. I want father, and Iwant my home."
"Is your father in London?"
"Oh, yes; he's a Member of Parliament. But he's of a stubborn andunyielding nature."
"And so are you?"
"And so am I. Now, let's drop the subject of myself for the present,while you sing for me. Will you?"
"Yes, indeed," said Patty, warmly; "with more pleasure than I ever sangfor any one else."