John's first caller at the Milan was, in a way, a surprise to him. He
was sitting smoking an after-breakfast pipe on the following morning,
and gazing at the telephone directory, when his bell rang. He opened the
door to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside.
"I pay you a very early visit, I fear," the latter began.
"Not at all," John replied, taking the pipe from his mouth and throwing
open the door. "It is very good of you to come and see me."
The prince followed John into the little sitting room. He was dressed,
as usual, with scrupulous care. His white linen gaiters were immaculate,
his trousers were perfectly creased, the hang of his coat had engaged
the care of an artist. His tie was of a deep shade of violet, fastened
with a wonderful pearl, and his fingers were perhaps a trifle
overmanicured. He wore a bunch of Parma violets in his buttonhole, and
he carried with him a very faint but unusual perfume, which seemed to
John like the odor of delicate green tea. It was just these details, and
the slowness of his speech, which alone accentuated his foreign origin.
"It occurred to me," he said, as he seated himself in an easy chair,
"that if you are really intending to make this experiment in town life
of which Miss Maurel spoke, I might be of some assistance to you. There
are certain matters, quite unimportant in themselves, concerning which
a little advice in the beginning may save you trouble."
"Very good of you, I am sure," John repeated. "To tell you the truth, I
was just looking through the telephone directory to see if I could come
across the name of a tailor I used to have some things from."
"If it pleases you to place yourself in my hands," the prince suggested,
"I will introduce you to my own tradespeople. I have made the selection
with some care."
"That will suit me admirably," John declared. "If you will just give me
the addresses--I couldn't think of taking up your time."
"I have, fortunately, an idle morning," the prince said, "and it is
entirely at your disposal. At half past one I believe we are both
lunching with Miss Maurel."
John was conscious of a momentary sense of annoyance. His _tete-a-tete_
with Louise seemed farther off than ever. At the prince's suggestion,
however, he fetched his hat and gloves and entered the former's
automobile, which was waiting below.
"Miss Maurel!" the prince remarked, as they glided off westward, "is, I
believe, inviting a few friends to meet you. If you would feel more
comfortable in town clothes, I think the tailor to whom I am taking you
will be able to arrange that. He makes special preparations for such
emergencies."
"I will do what you think best," John agreed.
They spent the morning in the neighborhood of Bond Street, and John laid
the foundations of a wardrobe more extensive than any he had ever
dreamed of possessing. At half past one they were shown into Louise's
little dressing room. There were three or four men already present,
standing around their hostess and sipping some faint yellow cordial from
long Venetian glasses.
Louise came forward to meet them, and made a little grimace as she
remarked the change in John's appearance.
"Honestly, I don't know you, and I don't believe I like you at all!" she
exclaimed. "How dare you transform yourself into a tailor's dummy in
this fashion?"
"It was entirely out of respect to you," John said.
"In fact," the prince added, "we considered that we had achieved rather
a success."
"I suppose I must look upon your effort as a compliment," Louise sighed,
"but it seems queer to lose even so much of you. Shall you take up our
manners and our habits, Mr. Strangewey, as easily as you wear our
clothes?"
"That I cannot promise," he replied.
"The brain should adapt itself at least as readily as the body," the
prince remarked.