A SPEECH FROM THE THRONE.
It was some time since Mrs. Gray had made any communication to the
boarders.
But one evening she seemed laboring under suppressed excitement.
"Something is up," said Mr. Blake, the young reporter who sat on my
left, the Disagreeable Woman being on my right.
"We shall have it after supper," I answered.
Mrs. Gray always waited till the last boarder had finished his meal. It
was one of the unwritten laws of the boarding-house.
The last boarder on this occasion was Professor Poppendorf. He was the
heartiest eater, and we usually had to wait for him. When he had taken
the last sip of beer, for in consideration of his national tastes he was
always supplied with a schooner of that liquid which is dear to the
Teutonic heart, Mrs. Gray opened her mouth.
"My friends," she said, "I have a letter to read to you."
She opened a perfumed billet, adjusted her spectacles, and read.
"It is from Mrs. Wyman," she said, "and it is at her request that I read
it."
We had already noticed that neither Mrs. Wyman nor the Count was
present.
Mrs. Gray began:
"MY DEAR MRS. GRAY:--For three years I have been an inmate of your happy
home. I have come to feel an interest in it and in all whose
acquaintance I have made here. I had no thought of leaving you, but
circumstances make it necessary. Let me say at once that I have
consented to marry Count di Penelli. You who are familiar with his fine
traits and aristocratic bearing will hardly be surprised that I have
been unable to resist his ardent entreaties. I had indeed intended never
to marry again, but it was because I never expected to find one who
could take the place of my dear departed first husband. The Count and I
leave by an early train for Philadelphia where the ceremony will be
performed. We may remain there for a few days. Beyond that our plans are
not arranged. We would have had a public wedding and invited our
friends, but as the Count's family are in Italy and cannot be present,
we thought it best to have a simple private ceremony. When we go to
Italy next summer there may be another ceremony at the Penelli Castle in
Southern Italy.
"I cannot tell when I shall return to New York. Probably I shall never
again be an inmate of your happy home. The Count and I may take a flat
up-town--a whole house would be too large for us. But I shall--we shall
certainly call on our old friends, and I trust that the ties that bind
us together in friendship may never weaken.
"I shall soon be the Countess di Penelli. But once more and for the last
time, I subscribe myself
"Your faithful and devoted
"LETITIA WYMAN."
We listened to the reading of the letter in silent excitement. Then
there was a chorus of exclamations.
"Did you ever?" ejaculated the young woman from Macy's.
"I am not surprised," said the Disagreeable woman, calmly. "Mrs. Wyman
has been courting the Count ever since he came here."
"You mean that he has been paying his attentions to her," suggested Mr.
Blake, the reporter.
"No, I mean what I say."
"She says she had no thought of marrying again."
"Mr. Blake, you are a young man. You don't understand women, and
particularly widows. Probably there is not a gentleman at the table whom
Mrs. Wyman has not thought of as a matrimonial subject, yourself not
excepted."
Mr. Blake was a very young man, and he blushed.
"She would not have married me," growled the Professor.
Most of us smiled.
"Are you pledged to celibacy, Professor?" asked the landlady.
"No, madam. If a certain young lady would marry me I would marry
to-morrow."
Ruth Canby blushed furiously, and was indignant with herself for doing
so, especially as it drew all glances to her.
"Let us hope you may be successful in your suit, Professor," said Mrs.
Gray.
"Thank you, my dear lady; time will show."
Miss Blagden turned her searching glance upon the flaming cheeks of Ruth
and smiled kindly. If there was any one at the table whom she liked it
was the young woman from Macy's.
"I suppose there is no doubt about his being a Count," suggested Mr.
Blake.
"I should say there was a good deal of doubt," answered the Disagreeable
Woman.
"Do you really think so?"
"It is my conjecture."
"Oh, I think there is no doubt about it," said the landlady, who prided
herself on having had so aristocratic a boarder.
"I am a loser by this marriage," said Mrs. Gray. "I have two rooms
suddenly vacated."
"A friend of mine will take one of them," said Mr. Blake, the reporter.
"He has been wishing to get in here for a month."
"I shall be glad to receive him," said Mrs. Gray, graciously.
The other room was also taken within a week.