Beverly of Graustark

  CHAPTER II

  BEVERLY CALHOUN

  Major George Calhoun was a member of Congress from one of the southernstates. His forefathers had represented the same commonwealth, and so,it was likely, would his descendants, if there is virtue in the fitnessof things and the heredity of love. While intrepid frontiersmen wereopening the trails through the fertile wilds west of the Alleghanies, astrong branch of the Calhoun family followed close in theirfootsteps. The major's great-grandfather saw the glories and thepossibilities of the new territory. He struck boldly westward from theold revolutionary grounds, abandoning the luxuries and traditions of theCarolinas for a fresh, wild life of promise. His sons and daughtersbecame solid stones in the foundation of a commonwealth, and hisgrandchildren are still at work on the structure. State and nationallegislatures had known the Calhouns from the beginning. Battlefields hadtested their valor, and drawing-rooms had proved their gentility.

  Major Calhoun had fought with Stonewall Jackson and won his spurs--andat the same time the heart and hand of Betty Haswell, the staunchestConfederate who ever made flags, bandages and prayers for the boys ingray. When the reconstruction came he went to Congress and later onbecame prominent in the United States consular service, for yearsholding an important European post. Congress claimed him once more inthe early '90s, and there he is at this very time.

  Everybody in Washington's social and diplomatic circles admired thebeautiful Beverly Calhoun. According to his own loving term ofidentification, she was the major's "youngest." The fair southerner hadseen two seasons in the nation's capital. Cupid, standing directly infront of her, had shot his darts ruthlessly and resistlessly into thepassing hosts, and masculine Washington looked humbly to her for thebalm that might soothe its pains. The wily god of love was fair enoughto protect the girl whom he forced to be his unwilling, perhapsunconscious, ally. He held his impenetrable shield between her heart andthe assaults of a whole army of suitors, high and low, great andsmall. It was not idle rumor that said she had declined a coronet ortwo, that the millions of more than one American Midas had been offeredto her, and that she had dealt gently but firmly with a score of heartswhich had nothing but love, ambition and poverty to support them in theconflict.

  The Calhouns lived in a handsome home not far from the residence ofMr. and Mrs. Grenfall Lorry. It seemed but natural that the twobeautiful young women should become constant and loyal friends. Women aslovely as they have no reason to be jealous. It is only the woman whodoes not feel secure of her personal charms that cultivates envy. At thehome of Graustark's princess Beverly met the dukes and barons from thefar east; it was in the warmth of the Calhoun hospitality that Yetiveformed her dearest love for the American people.

  Miss Beverly was neither tall nor short. She was of that divine andindefinite height known as medium; slender but perfectly molded; strongbut graceful, an absolutely healthy young person whose beauty knew wellhow to take care of itself. Being quite heart-whole and fancy-free, sheslept well, ate well, and enjoyed every minute of life. In her blood ranthe warm, eager impulses of the south; hereditary love of case andluxury displayed itself in every emotion; the perfectly normal demandupon men's admiration was as characteristic in her as it is in anydaughter of the land whose women are born to expect chivalry and homage.

  A couple of years in a New York "finishing school" for young ladies hadserved greatly to modify Miss Calhoun's colloquial charms. Many of herdelightful "way down south" phrases and mannerisms were blighted by thecold, unromantic atmosphere of a seminary conducted by two ladies fromBoston who were too old to marry, too penurious to love and too prim tothink that other women might care to do both. There were times,however,--if she were excited or enthusiastic,--when pretty Beverly sofar forgot her training as to break forth with a very attractive "yo'all," "suah 'nough," or "go 'long naow." And when the bands played"Dixie" she was not afraid to stand up and wave her handkerchief. Thenortherner who happened to be with her on such occasions usually foundhimself doing likewise before he could escape the infection.

  Miss Calhoun's face was one that painters coveted deep down in theirartistic souls. It never knew a dull instant; there was expression inevery lineament, in every look; life, genuine life, dwelt in the mobilecountenance that turned the head of every man and woman who looked uponit. Her hair was dark-brown and abundant; her eyes were a deep gray andlooked eagerly from between long lashes of black; her lips were red andever willing to smile or turn plaintive as occasion required; her browwas broad and fair, and her frown was as dangerous as a smile. As to herage, if the major admitted, somewhat indiscreetly, that all his childrenwere old enough to vote, her mother, with the reluctance born in women,confessed that she was past twenty, so a year or two either way willdetermine Miss Beverly's age, so far as the telling of this story isconcerned. Her eldest brother--Keith Calhoun (the one with thecongressional heritage)--thought she was too young to marry, while hersecond brother, Dan, held that she soon would be too old to attract menwith matrimonial intentions. Lucy, the only sister, having been happilywedded for ten years, advised her not to think of marriage until she wasold enough to know her own mind.

  Toward the close of one of the most brilliant seasons the Capital hadever known, less than a fortnight before Congress was to adjourn, thewife of Grenfall Lorry received the news which spread gloomydisappointment over the entire social realm. A dozen receptions, teasand balls were destined to lose their richest attraction, and hostesseswere in despair. The princess had been called to Graustark.

  Beverly Calhoun was miserably unhappy. She had heard the story ofGabriel's escape and the consequent probability of a conflict withAxphain. It did not require a great stretch of imagination to convinceher that the Lorrys were hurrying off to scenes of intrigue, strife andbloodshed, and that not only Graustark but its princess was in jeopardy.

  Miss Calhoun's most cherished hopes faded with the announcement thattrouble, not pleasure, called Yetive to Edelweiss. It had been theirplan that Beverly should spend the delightful summer months inGraustark, a guest at the royal palace. The original arrangements of theLorrys were hopelessly disturbed by the late news from CountHalfont. They were obliged to leave Washington two months earlier thanthey intended, and they could not take Beverly Calhoun intodanger-ridden Graustark. The contemplated visit to St. Petersburg andother pleasures had to be abandoned, and they were in tears.

  Yetive's maids were packing the trunks, and Lorry's servants were in awild state of haste preparing for the departure on Saturday's ship. OnFriday afternoon, Beverly was naturally where she could do the most goodand be of the least help--at the Lorrys'. Self-confessedly, she delayedthe preparations. Respectful maidservants and respectful menservantscame often to the princess's boudoir to ask questions, and Beverly justas frequently made tearful resolutions to leave the household inpeace--if such a hullaballoo could be called peace. Callers came by thedozen, but Yetive would see no one. Letters, telegrams and telephonecalls almost swamped her secretary; the footman and the butler fairlygasped under the strain of excitement. Through it all the two friendssat despondent and alone in the drear room that once had been the abodeof pure delight. Grenfall Lorry was off in town closing up all mattersof business that could be despatched at once. The princess and herindustrious retinue were to take the evening express for New York andthe next day would find them at sea.

  "I know I shall cry all summer," vowed Miss Calhoun, with conviction inher eyes. "It's just too awful for anything." She was lying back amongthe cushions of the divan and her hat was the picture of cruelneglect. For three solid hours she had stubbornly withstood Yetive'sappeals to remove her hat, insisting that she could not trust herself tostay more than a minute or two. "It seems to me, Yetive, that yourjailers must be very incompetent or they wouldn't have let loose allthis trouble upon you," she complained.

  "Prince Gabriel is the very essence of trouble," confessed Yetive,plaintively. "He was born to annoy people, just like the evil prince inthe fairy tales."

  "I wish we h
ad him over here," the American girl answered stoutly. "Hewouldn't be such a trouble I'm sure. We don't let small troubles worryus very long, you know."

  "But he's dreadfully important over there, Beverly; that's the difficultpart of it," said Yetive, solemnly. "You see, he is a condemnedmurderer."

  "Then, you ought to hang him or electrocute him or whatever it is thatyou do to murderers over there," promptly spoke Beverly.

  "But, dear, you don't understand. He won't permit us either to hang orto electrocute him, my dear. The situation is precisely the reverse, ifhe is correctly quoted by my uncle. When Uncle Caspar sent an envoy toinform Dawsbergen respectfully that Graustark would hold it personallyresponsible if Gabriel were not surrendered, Gabriel himself replied:'Graustark be hanged!'"

  "How rude of him, especially when your uncle was so courteous aboutit. He must be a very disagreeable person," announced Miss Calhoun.

  "I am sure you wouldn't like him," said the princess. "His brother, whohas been driven from the throne--and from the capital, in fact--is quitedifferent. I have not seen him, but my ministers regard him as asplendid young man."

  "Oh, how I hope he may go back with his army and annihilate that oldGabriel!" cried Beverly, frowning fiercely.

  "Alas," sighed the princess, "he hasn't an army, and besides he isfinding it extremely difficult to keep from being annihilatedhimself. The army has gone over to Prince Gabriel."

  "Pooh!" scoffed Miss Calhoun, who was thinking of the enormous armiesthe United States can produce at a day's notice. "What good is aridiculous little army like his, anyway? A battalion from Fort Thomascould beat it to--"

  "Don't boast, dear," interrupted Yetive, with a wan smile. "Dawsbergenhas a standing army of ten thousand excellent soldiers. With the warreserves she has twice the available force I can produce."

  "But your men are so brave," cried Beverly, who had heard their praisessung.

  "True, God bless them; but you forget that we must attack Gabriel in hisown territory. To recapture him means a perilous expedition into themountains of Dawsbergen, and I am sorely afraid. Oh, dear, I hope he'llsurrender peaceably!"

  "And go back to jail for life?" cried Miss Calhoun. "It's a good deal toexpect of him, dear. I fancy it's much better fun kicking up a rumpus onthe outside than it is kicking one's toes off against an obdurate stonewall from the inside. You can't blame him for fighting a bit."

  "No--I suppose not," agreed the princess, miserably. "Gren is actuallyhappy over the miserable affair, Beverly. He is full of enthusiasm andpositively aching to be in Graustark--right in the thick of it all. Tohear him talk, one would think that Prince Gabriel has no show atall. He kept me up till four o'clock this morning telling me thatDawsbergen didn't know what kind of a snag it was going up against. Ihave a vague idea what he means by that; his manner did not leave muchroom for doubt. He also said that we would jolt Dawsbergen off the map.It sounds encouraging, at least, doesn't it?"

  "It sounds very funny for you to say those things," admitted Beverly,"even though they come secondhand. You were not cut out for slang."

  "Why, I'm sure they are all good English words," remonstratedYetive. "Oh, dear, I wonder what they are doing in Graustark this veryinstant. Are they fighting or--"

  "No; they are merely talking. Don't you know, dear, that there is nevera fight until both sides have talked themselves out of breath? We shallhave six months of talk and a week or two of fight, just as they alwaysdo nowadays."

  "Oh, you Americans have such a comfortable way of looking at things,"cried the princess. "Don't you ever see the serious side of life?"

  "My dear, the American always lets the other fellow see the serious sideof life," said Beverly.

  "You wouldn't be so optimistic if a country much bigger and morepowerful than America happened to be the other fellow."

  "It did sound frightfully boastful, didn't it? It's the way we've beenbrought up, I reckon,--even we southerners who know what it is to bewhipped. The idea of a girl like me talking about war and trouble andall that! It's absurd, isn't it?"

  "Nevertheless, I wish I could see things through those dear gray eyes ofyours. Oh, how I'd like to have you with me through all the months thatare to come. You would be such a help to me--such a joy. Nothing wouldseem so hard if you were there to make me see things through your braveAmerican eyes." The princess put her arms about Beverly's neck and drewher close.

  "But Mr. Lorry possesses an excellent pair of American eyes," protestedMiss Beverly, loyally and very happily.

  "I know, dear, but they are a man's eyes. Somehow, there is adifference, you know. I wouldn't dare cry when he was looking, but Icould boo-hoo all day if you were there to comfort me. He thinks I amvery brave--and I'm not," she confessed, dismally.

  "Oh, I'm an awful coward," explained Beverly, consolingly. "I think youare the bravest girl in all the world," she added. "Don't you rememberwhat you did at--" and then she recalled the stories that had come fromGraustark ahead of the bridal party two years before. Yetive was finallyobliged to place her hand on the enthusiastic visitor's lips.

  "Peace," she cried, blushing. "You make me feel like a--a--what is it youcall her--a dime-novel heroine?"

  "A yellow-back girl? Never!" exclaimed Beverly, severely.

  Visitors of importance in administration circles came at this moment andthe princess could not refuse to see them. Beverly Calhoun reluctantlydeparted, but not until after giving a promise to accompany the Lorrysto the railway station.

  * * * * *

  The trunks had gone to be checked, and the household was quieter than ithad been in many days. There was an air of depression about the placethat had its inception in the room upstairs where sober-faced Halkinsserved dinner for a not over-talkative young couple.

  "It will be all right, dearest," said Lorry, divining his wife'sthoughts as she sat staring rather soberly straight ahead of her, "Justas soon as we get to Edelweiss, the whole affair will look so simplethat we can laugh at the fears of to-day. You see, we are a long way offjust now."

  "I am only afraid of what may happen before we get there, Gren," shesaid, simply. He leaned over and kissed her hand, smiling at theemphasis she unconsciously placed on the pronoun.

  Beverly Calhoun was announced just before coffee was served, and amoment later was in the room. She stopped just inside the door, clickedher little heels together and gravely brought her hand to "salute." Hereyes were sparkling and her lips trembled with suppressed excitement.

  "I think I can report to you in Edelweiss next month, general," sheannounced, with soldierly dignity. Her hearers stared at the picturesquerecruit, and Halkins so far forgot himself as to drop Mr. Lorry's lumpof sugar upon the table instead of into the cup.

  "Explain yourself, sergeant!" finally fell from Lorry's lips. The eyesof the princess were beginning to take on a rapturous glow.

  "May I have a cup of coffee, please, sir? I've been so excited Icouldn't eat a mouthful at home." She gracefully slid into the chairHalkins offered, and broke into an ecstatic giggle that would haveresulted in a court-martial had she been serving any commander but Love.

  With a plenteous supply of Southern idioms she succeeded in making themunderstand that the major had promised to let her visit friends in thelegation at St. Petersburg in April a month or so after the departure ofthe Lorrys.

  "He wanted to know where I'd rather spend the Spring--Washin'ton orLexin'ton, and I told him St. Petersburg. We had a terrific discussionand neither of us ate a speck at dinner. Mamma said it would be allright for me to go to St. Petersburg if Aunt Josephine was still of amind to go, too. You see, Auntie was scared almost out of her boots whenshe heard there was prospect of war in Graustark, just as though a tinylittle war like that could make any difference away up inRussia--hundreds of thousands of miles away--" (with a scornful wave ofthe hand)--"and then I just made Auntie say she'd go to St. Petersburgin April--a whole month sooner than she expected to go in the firstplace--and--"

&nbs
p; "You dear, dear Beverly!" cried Yetive, rushing joyously around thetable to clasp her in her arms.

  "And St. Petersburg really isn't a hundred thousand miles fromEdelweiss," cried Beverly, gaily.

  "It's much less than that," said Lorry, smiling, "But you surely don'texpect to come to Edelweiss if we are fighting. We couldn't think ofletting you do that, you know. Your mother would never--"

  "My mother wasn't afraid of a much bigger war than yours can ever hopeto be," cried Beverly, resentfully. "You can't stop me if I choose tovisit Graustark."

  "Does your father know that you contemplate such a trip?" asked Lorry,returning her handclasp and looking doubtfully into the swimming blueeyes of his wife.

  "No, he doesn't," admitted Beverly, a trifle aggressively.

  "He could stop you, you know," he suggested. Yetive was discreetlysilent.

  "But he won't know anything about it," cried Beverly triumphantly.

  "I could tell him, you know," said Lorry.

  "No, you _couldn't_ do anything so mean as that," announcedBeverly. "You're not that sort."