A YOUTHFUL PATRIOT
Smith sauntered out to the terrace, looked at the sky, sniffed the
roses, and sat down in the shadow of a cherry tree, cocking his feet up
and resting his novel on his knees. Several hours later, aroused by the
mellow clash of harness and noise of wheels, he looked out over the
terrace wall just in time to catch a glimpse of the victoria of his
neighbour, gold and green livery, strawberry roans, flashing wheels and
all; and quite alone under her brilliant sunshade, the dark-haired girl
whom Kingsbury had decided to marry as soon as he could arrange to fall
in love with her.
"I fancy she's the Countess, all right," mused Smith; "but, to me, the
girl 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 the
coachman, loop his whip, assume the posture popularly attributed to
pupils of Howlett, and go whirling away through the lazy sunshine of a
perfect Belgian afternoon.
"The beast has lunched without me," muttered Smith, yawning and looking
at his watch. Then he got up, stretched, tinkled the bell, and when the
doll-faced maid arrived, requested an omelet à la Semois and a bottle of
claret.
He got it in due time, absorbed it lazily, casting a weatherwise eye on
the sky at intervals with a view to afternoon fishing; but the sun was
too bright; besides, his book had become interesting in a somewhat
maudlin fashion, inasmuch as the lovers must come to a clinch in the
next chapter or not at all.
"You can't tell in modern novels," he muttered; "a girl has a way of
side-stepping just as the bell rings: but the main guy ought to make
good 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 bolt
upright, the telephone bell ringing in his ears.
Comfortably awake now, he slid from the hammock, and, entering the
house, stepped into the smoking-room.
"Hello!" he said, unhooking the receiver.
Kingsbury's voice replied: "I'm here in Semois-les-Bains, at the charity
bazar. 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 to
take me over and present me."
"Buy a doll, idiot!"
"Confound it, I've already bought ten! That doesn't give me the
privilege of doing anything but buying ten more. She's busy; about five
million people are crowding around her."
"Buy every doll she has! Put her out of business, man! Then if you can't
fix 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 most
radiantly----"
"All right; ring off----"
"Wait! I wanted to tell you that she has the prettiest way of smiling
every time I buy a doll. And then, while she wraps up the infernal thing
in ribbons and tissue we chat a little. I'd like to murder our
Ambassador! 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, punctuated
by 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 told
her 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 the
terrace with her--Smith!"
"What?"
"Oh, I thought you'd gone! I only wanted to say that she is far, far
lovelier than I had supposed. I can't wait here talking with you any
longer. Good-by!"
"Is she the Countess?" shouted Smith incredulously. But Kingsbury had
rung off.
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