Graustark

  IV. THE INVITATION EXTENDED

  They were called by the porter early the next morning. The train waspulling into Washington, five hours late. Grenfall wondered, as hedressed, whether fortune would permit him to see much of her during herbrief day in the capital. He dreamed of a drive over the avenues, atrip to the monument, a visit to the halls of congress, an inspection ofpublic buildings, a dinner at his mother's home, luncheon at the Ebbitt,and other attentions which might give to him every moment of her day inWashington. But even as he dreamed, he was certain that his hopes couldnot be gratified.

  After the train had come to a standstill he could hear the rustle ofher garments in the next compartment. Then he heard her sweep into thepassage, greet her uncle and aunt, utter a few commands to the maid,and, while he was adjusting his collar and necktie, pass from the car.No man ever made quicker time in dressing than did Lorry. She couldhardly have believed him ideal had she seen his scowling face or heardthe words that hissed through his impatient teeth.

  "She'll get away, and that'll be the end of it," he growled, seizing histraps and rushing from the train two minutes after her departure. Theporter attempted to relieve him of his bags on the platform, but hebrushed him aside and was off toward the station.

  "Nice time for you, to call a man, you idiot," was his parting shot forthe porter, forgetting of course, that the foreigners had been calledat the same time. With eyes intent on the crowd ahead, he plunged along,seeing nobody in his disappointed flight. "I'll never forgive myself ifI miss her," he was wailing to himself. She was not to be seen in thewaiting rooms, so he rushed to the sidewalk.

  "Baggage transferred?"

  "Cab, sir?"

  "Go to the devil--yes, here! Take these traps and these checks and rushmy stuff to No.----, W---- Avenue. Trunks just in on B.& O.," he cried,tossing his burdens to a transfer man and giving him the checks soquickly that the fellow's sleepy eyes opened wider than they had beenfor a month. Relieved of his impedimenta, he returned to the station.

  "Good morning, Mr. Lorry. Are you in too much of a hurry to see yourfriends?" cried a clear, musical voice, and he stopped as if shot. Theanxious frown flew from his brow and was succeeded instantaneously by aglad smile. He wheeled and beheld her, with Aunt Yvonne, standing nearthe main entrance to the station. "Why, good morning," he exclaimed,extending his hand gladly. To his amazement she drew herself uphaughtily and ignored the proffered hand. Only for a brief second didthis strange and uncalled--for hauteur obtain. A bright smile swept overher face, and her repentant fingers sought his timidly, even awkwardly.Something told him that she was not accustomed to handshaking; that samesomething impelled him to bend low and touch the gloved fingers with hislips. He straightened, with face flushed, half fearful lest his acthad been observed by curious loungers, and he had taken a liberty ina public place which could not be condoned. But she smiled serenely,approvingly. There was not the faintest sign of embarrassment orconfusion in the lovely face. Any other girl in the world, he thought,would have jerked her hand away and giggled furiously. Aunt Yvonneinclined her head slightly, but did not proffer her hand. He wiselyrefrained from extending his own. "I thought you had left the station,"he said.

  "We are waiting for Uncle Caspar, who is giving Hedrick instructions.Hedrick, you know, is to go on to New York with our boxes. He will havethem aboard ship when we arrive there. All that we have with us is handluggage. We leave Washington to-night."

  "I had hoped you might stay over for a few days."

  "It is urgent business that compels us to leave so hastily, Mr. Lorry.Of all the cities in the world, I have most desired to see the capitalof your country. Perhaps I may return some day. But do not let us detainyou, if you are in a hurry."

  He started, looked guilty, stammered something about baggage, said hewould return in a moment, and rushed aimlessly away, his ears fiery.

  "I'm all kinds of a fool," he muttered, as he raced around thebaggage-room and then back to where he had left the two ladies. Mr.Guggenslocker had joined them and they were preparing to depart. MissGuggenslocker's face expressed pleasure at seeing him.

  "We thought you would never return, so long were you gone," she cried,gaily. He had been gone just two minutes by the watch! The old gentlemangreeted him warmly, and Lorry asked them to what hotel they were going.On being informed that they expected to spend the day at the Ebbitt,he volunteered to accompany them, saying that he intended to breakfastthere. Quicker than a flash a glance, unfathomable as it was brief,passed between the three, not quickly enough, however, to escapehis keen, watchful eyes, on the alert since the beginning of hisacquaintance with them, in conjunction with his ears, to catch somethingthat might satisfy, in a measure, his burning curiosity. What was themeaning of that glance? It half angered him, for in it he thought hecould distinguish annoyance, apprehension, dismay or something equallydisquieting. Before he could stiffen his long frame and give vent tothe dignified reconsideration that flew to his mind, the young ladydispelled all pain and displeasure, sending him into raptures, bysaying:

  "How good of you! We shall be so delighted to have you breakfast withus, Mr. Lorry, if it is convenient for you. You can talk to us of yourwonderful city. Now, say that you will be good to us; stay your hungerand neglect your personal affairs long enough to give us these earlymorning hours. I am sure we cannot trouble you much longer."

  He expostulated gallantly and delightedly, and then hurried forth tocall a cab. At eight o'clock he breakfasted with them, his infatuationgrowing deeper and stronger as he sat for the hour beneath the spell ofthose eyes, the glorious face, the sweet, imperial air that was a partof her, strange and unaffected. As they were leaving the dining-room heasked her if she would not drive with him.

  His ardent gallantry met with a surprising rebuke. The conversationup to that moment had been bright and cheery, her face had been theconstant reflector of his own good spirits, and he had every reason inthe world to feel that his suggestion would be received with pleasure.It was a shock to him, therefore, to see the friendly smile fade fromher eyes and a disdainful gleam succeed it. Her voice, a moment agosweet and affable, changed its tone instantly to one so proud andarrogant that he could scarcely believe his ears.

  "I shall be engaged during the entire day, Mr. Lorry," she said, slowly,looking him fairly in the eyes with cruel positiveness. Those eyes ofhis were wide with surprise and the glowing gleam of injured pride.His lips closed tightly; little red spots flew to his cheeks andthen disappeared, leaving his face white and cold; his heart throbbedpainfully with the mingled emotions of shame and anger. For a moment hedared not speak.

  "I have reason to feel thankful that you are to be engaged," he saidat last, calmly, without taking his eyes from hers. "I am forced tobelieve, much to my regret, that I have offended when I intended toplease. You will pardon my temerity."

  There was no mistaking the resentment in his voice or the glitter in hiseyes. Impulsively her little hand was stretched forth, falling upon hisarm, while into her eyes came again the soft glow and to her lips themost pathetic, appealing smile, the forerunner of a pretty plea forforgiveness. The change startled and puzzled him more than ever. In onemoment she was unreasonably rude and imperious, in the next gracious andimploring.

  "Forgive me," she cried, the blue eyes battling bravely against thesteel in the grey ones above. "I was so uncivil! Perhaps I cannot makeyou understand why I spoke as I did, but, let me say, I richly deservedthe rebuke. Pray forgive me and forget that I have been disagreeable. Donot ask me to tell you why I was so rude to you just now, but overlookmy unkind treatment of your invitation. Please, Mr. Lorry, I beg ofyou--I beg for the first time in my life. You have been so good to me;be good to me still."

  His wrath melted away like snow before the sunshine. How could he resistsuch an appeal? "I beg for the first time in my life," whirled in hisbrain. What did she mean by that?

  "I absolve the penitent," he said, gravely.

  "I thank you. You are still my ideal American--cour
teous, bold andgentle. I do not wonder that Americans can be masterful men. And now Ithank you for your invitation, and ask you to let me withdraw my impliedrefusal. If you will take me for the drive, I shall be delighted andmore than grateful."

  "You make me happy again," he said, softly, as they drew near the eldermembers of the party, who had paused to wait for them. "I shall ask youruncle and aunt to accompany us."

  "Uncle Caspar will be busy all day, but I am sure my aunt will becharmed. Aunt Yvonne, Mr. Lorry has asked us to drive with him over thecity, and I have accepted for you. When are we to start, Mr. Lorry?"

  Mr. and Mrs. Guggenslocker stared in a bewildered sort of mannerat their niece. Then Aunt Yvonne turned questioning eyes toward herhusband, who promptly bowed low before the tall American and said:

  "Your kind offices shall never be forgotten, sir. When are the ladies tobe ready?"

  Lorry was weighing in his mind the advisability of asking them to dinein the evening with his mother, but two objections presented themselvesreadily. First, he was afraid of this perverse maid; second, he had notseen his mother. In fact, he did not know that she was in town.

  "At two o'clock, I fancy. That will give us the afternoon. You leave atnine to-night, do you not?"

  "Yes. And will you dine with us this evening?" Her invitation was sounexpected, in view of all that had happened, that he looked askance."Ach, you must not treat my invitation as I did yours!" she cried,merrily, although he could detect the blush that returns with therecollection of a reprimand. "You should profit by what I have beentaught." The girl abruptly threw her arm about her aunt and cried, asshe drew away in the direction of her room: "At two, then, and at dinnerthis evening. I bid you good morning, Mr. Lorry."

  The young man, delighted with the turn of affairs, but dismayed by whatseemed a summary dismissal, bowed low. He waited until the strange trioentered the elevator and then sauntered downstairs, his hands in hispockets, his heart as light as air. Unconsciously he jingled the coins.A broad smile came over his face as he drew forth a certain piece.Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he said:

  "You are what it cost her to learn my name, are you? Well, my goodfellow, you may be very small, but you bought something that looksbetter than Guggenslocker on a hotel register. Your mistress is an oddbit of humanity, a most whimsical bit, I must say. First, she's no andthen she's yes. You're lucky, my coin, to have fallen into the custodyof one who will not give you over to the mercy of strangers for the sakeof a whim. You are now retired on a pension, well deserved after valiantservice in the cause of a most capricious queen."

  In an hour he was at home and relating to his mother the story of hiswanderings, neglecting, for reasons best known to himself, the eventswhich occurred after Denver had been left behind, except for a casualallusion to "a party of foreigners." At one o'clock, faultlesslyattired, he descended to the brougham, telling Mrs. Lorry that hehad invited some strangers to see the city. On the way downtown heremembered that he was in business, the law business--and that it wouldbe well to drop in and let his uncle know he was in the city. On secondthought, however, he concluded it was too near two o'clock to waste anytime on business, so the office did not know that he was in town untilthe next day, and then to no great extent.

  For several hours he reveled in her society, sitting beside her in thatroomy brougham, Aunt Yvonne opposite, explaining to her the many placesof interest as they passed. They entered the Capitol; they saw the WhiteHouse, and, as they were driving back to the hotel, passed the Presidentof the United States.

  Miss Guggenslocker, when informed that the President's carriage wasapproaching, relaxed gracefully from the stately reserve that hadbeen puzzling him, and revealed an eager curiosity. Her eyes fastenedthemselves upon the President, Lorry finding entertainment in thechanges that came over her unconscious face. Instead of noting theveneration he had expected, he was astonished and somewhat provoked tosee a slight curl of disgust at the corners of her mouth, a pronounceddisappointment in her eyes. Her face expressed ridicule, pure andsimple, and, he was shocked to observe, the exposure was unconscious,therefore sincere.

  "You do not like our ruler?" he said, as the carriage whirled by. He wasreturning his hat to his head as he spoke.

  "I cannot say. I do not know him," she replied, a tinge of sarcasm inher voice. "You Americans have one consolation; when you tire of a ruleryou can put another in his place. Is it not wise to do so quite often?"

  "I don't think wise is the word. Expedient is better. I am to infer thatyou have no politics."

  "One house has ruled our land for centuries. Since I came to your landI have not once seen a man wave his hat with mad adulation and cry fromhis heart: 'Long live the President!' For centuries, in my country,every child has been born with the words: 'Long live the Prince!' in hisheart, and he learns to say them next after the dear parental words aremastered. 'Long live the Prince!' 'Long live the Princess!' are tributesof love and honor that greet our rulers from birth to death. We are notfickle, and we have no politics."

  "Do your rulers hear tin horns, brass bands, campaign yells,firecrackers and stump speeches every four years? Do they know what itmeans to be the voluntary choice of a whole nation? Do they know whatit is to rule because they have won the right and not because they wereborn to it? Has there ever been a homage-surfeited ruler in your landwho has known the joy that comes with the knowledge that he has earnedthe right to be cheered from one end of the country to the other? Isthere not a difference between your hereditary 'Long live the Prince'and our wild, enthusiastic, spontaneous 'Hurrah for Cleveland!' MissGuggenslocker? All men are equal at the beginning in our land. The manwho wins the highest gift that can be bestowed by seventy millions ofpeople is the man who had brains and not title as a birthright." He wasa bit exasperated.

  "There! I have displeased you again. You must pardon my antiquatedideas. We, as true and loyal subjects of a good sovereign, cannot forgetthat our rulers are born, not made. Perhaps we are afflicted at timeswith brainless monarchs and are to be pitied. You are generous inyour selection of potentates, be generous, then, with me, a benightedroyalist, who craves leniency of one who may some day be President ofthe United States."

  "Granted, without discussion. As possible, though not probable,President of the United States, I am magnanimous to an unfortunate whocan never hope to be princess, no matter how well she might grace thegilded throne."

  She greeted this glowing remark with a smile so intoxicating that hefelt himself the most favored of men. He saw that smile in his mind'seye for months afterward, that maddening sparkle of joy, which flashedfrom her eyes to the very bottom of his heart, there to snuggle foreverwith Memory's most priceless treasures. Their dinner was but one morephase of this fascinating dream. More than once he feared that he wasabout to awake to find bleak unhappiness where exquisite joy had reignedso gloriously. As it drew to an end a sense of depression came over him.An hour at most was all that he could have with her. Nine o'clockwas drawing nigh with its regrets, its longings, its desolation. Hedetermined to retain the pleasures of the present until, amid theclanging of bells and the roll of car wheels, the dismal future began.His intention to accompany them to the station was expressed as theywere leaving the table. She had begun to say good-by to him whenhe interrupted, self-consciousness forcing the words hurriedly anddisjointedly from his lips:

  "You will let me go to the station with you. I shall--er--deem it apleasure."

  She raised her eyebrows slightly, but thanked him and said she wouldconsider it an honor. His face grew hot and his heart cold with thefancy that there was in her eyes a gleam which said: "I pity you, poorfellow."

  Notwithstanding his strange misgiving and the fact that his pride hadsustained quite a perceptible shock, he drove with them to the station.They went to the sleeping car a few minutes before the time set for thetrain's departure, and stood at the bottom of the steps, uttering thegood-bys, the God-speeds and the sincere hope that they might meetagain. Then came the sha
rp activity of the trainmen, the hurry ofbelated passengers. He glanced soberly at his watch.

  "It is nine o'clock. Perhaps you would better get aboard," he said, andproceeded to assist Aunt Yvonne up the steps. She turned and pressed hishand gently before passing into the car.

  "Adieu, good friend. You have made it so very pleasant for us," shesaid, earnestly.

  The tall, soldierly old gentleman was waiting to assist his niece intothe coach.

  "Go first, Uncle Caspar," the girl made Lorry happy by saying. "I caneasily come up unaided."

  "Or I can assist her," Lorry hastened to add, giving her a grateful lookwhich she could not misunderstand. The uncle shook hands warmly with theyoung man and passed up the steps. She was following when Lorry cried,

  "Will you not allow me?"

  She laughingly turned to him from the steps and stretched forth herhand.

  "And now it is good-by forever. I am so sorry that I have not seen moreof you," she said. He took her hand and held it tightly for a moment.

  "I shall never forget the past few days," he said, a thrill in hisvoice. "You have put something into my life that can never be takenaway. You will forget me before you are out of Washington, but I--Ishall always see you as you are now."

  She drew her hand away gently, but did not take her eyes from hisupturned face.

  "You are mistaken. Why should I forget you--ever? Are you not the idealAmerican whose name I bought? I shall always remember you as I sawyou--at Denver."

  "Not as I have been since?" he cried.

  "Have you changed since first I saw you?" she asked, quaintly.

  "I have, indeed, for you saw me before I saw you. I am glad I have notchanged for the worse in your eyes."

  "As I first knew you with my eyes I will say that they are trustworthy,"she said tantalizingly.

  "I do not mean that I have changed externally."

  "In any other case my eyes would not serve," she cried, with mockdisappointment. "Still," she added, sweepingly, "you are my idealAmerican. Good-by! The man has called 'all aboard!'"

  "Good-by!" he cried, swinging up on the narrow step beside her. Again heclasped her hand as she drew back in surprise. "You are going out of myland, but not out of my mind. If you wish your eyes to see the change inme, you have only to look at them in a mirror. They are the change--theythemselves! Goodby! I hope that I may see you again."

  She hesitated an instant, her eyes wavering beneath his. The train wasmoving slowly now.

  "I pray that we may meet," she said, softly, at last,--so softly that hebarely heard the words. Had she uttered no sound he could have beensure of her response, for it was in her telltale eyes. His blood leapedmadly. "You will be hurt if you wait till the train is running at fullspeed," she cried, suddenly returning to the abandoned merry mood. Shepushed him gently in her excitement. "Don't you see how rapidly we aremoving? Please go!" There was a terror in her eyes that pleased him.

  "Good-by, then," he cried.

  "Adieu, my American," she cried quickly.

  As he swung out, ready to drop to the ground, she said, her eyessparkling with something that suggested mischief, her face morebewitching than ever under the flicker of the great arc lights:

  "You must come to Edelweiss to see me. I shall expect you!" He thoughtthere was a challenge in the tones. Or was it mockery?

  "I will, by heaven, I will!" he exclaimed.

  A startled expression flashed across her face, and her lips parted asif in protestation. As she leaned forward, holding stoutly to thehand-rail, there was no smile on her countenance.

  A white hand fluttered before his eyes, and she was gone. He stood, hatin hand, watching the two red lights at the end of the train until theywere lost in the night.