_New York,
November._
My A. D. Well, you are in a way mine now, aren’t you? How I hated all
those horrid telegrams we sent each other, and what a long time I
have gone without a letter from you.
I do know what I want! It’s you, you, but oh, things are so hard when
it comes to facing down Aunt. It is not any open opposition--that
would be something definite that I could fight, but she simply assumes
that I don’t mean it when I say I am engaged, and sits bland and
smiling, and pretty soon, makes a remark about Boris.
A. D., if you won’t come over soon to look after me, you’ve just got
to take the risks. Don’t forget I’m a little Pagan, who does enjoy
things, even the Prince. Come home and settle here at once if you love
me as much as you say you do. I am so happy you sent the cable,
because you are the only person in the world I love. So we are really
engaged now and going to be married soon and live happily ever after?
You want to know what I did those few days in Paris? Well, by jinks,
we were off on a shopping rampage most of the time. I went to Worth’s
and ordered some pretty clothes--the prevailing colors this year are
the hummingbird’s.
How did the Prince behave in Paris? On the whole very attentive, but
once in a while just a bit difficult to manage. He brought with him a
magnificent Russian wolf hound, who was very well-trained and would
obey no one but his master. One day Boris invited us all to his
apartment in the hotel to luncheon, but Aunt had such a bad headache
that she left in the midst of it, taking Checkers along to see her
safely back. He was going to return for me since we had more galleries
to inspect. As soon as the lift with them in it had disappeared, Boris
closed the door and smiled meaningly and when I asked him to open it,
he shook his head. I started to open it myself when the wolf hound,
who was lying before it, growled. First I thought it was a joke, but
when I saw the queer look in my host’s eyes, a cold creepy feeling of
fear came over me.
“Once before you were in my power,” he said, “in the stateroom on the
_Cleopatra_. I, a fool, let you go. Now I got dog, no fool any more.”
Backing away from him, I laughed, hysterically, “I came here to eat
and not to make love.”
“Did you?” he inquired, putting his face down close to mine and
taking hold of my shoulders.
I stared straight back at him, saying, “I am not afraid either of you
or your old dog.” At that moment, thank heaven, the door opened and in
came the waiter. I dashed out and downstairs, Boris following me and
protesting that he was only trying to make a little fun, but I am not
sure. Aunt says I made a fuss over nothing, and insisted that we all
go together to the circus with him that night, but you may be sure I
hung onto Checkers pretty closely. However, the Prince pointed out to
me the girl on the trapeze, the same one you had admired in Rome. She
was very beautiful--I am a little jealous for she looked like Mona.
Boris and I rode several times together and one day jumped our horses
in the Bois, much to the amusement of a female seminary that was
passing. I had a fine time and thought how the people at home would
laugh if they could see me--such a change was my smart riding habit
from my old duds at the farm, and with a Prince. Then the other day he
took me to the Luxembourg gallery to look at a curious sculpture of
the sphinx--the head of a beautiful woman on the body of a lioness,
with a man in her clutches, just their lips touching, everything
thrown away for that one kiss. It made me think of some verses I read
the other day,
“Inviolate and immobile, she does not rise, she does not stir,
For silver moons are naught to her, and naught to her the suns that
reel.
Come forth, my lovely seneschal! So somnolent, so statuesque!
Come forth, you exquisite grotesque! Half woman and half animal!
And did you talk with Thoth and did you hear the horn-mooned Io
weep?
And know the painted kings who sleep beneath the wedge-shaped
pyramid?
Lift up your large black satin eyes which are like cushions where
one sinks,
Fawn at my feet, fantastic Sphinx! and sing me all your memories!
A thousand weary centuries are thine while I have scarcely seen
Some twenty summers cast their green for Autumn’s gaudy liveries.”
The Prince said he believed I was somewhat like her. I told him
indignantly I wasn’t, but maybe I am ... and he tells me I _was_ the
cause of the duel!
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