"Worse than that! Ruin stared us in the face until _he_ came. Our
deliverer!"
Blake flushed at this fulsome extravagance, particularly as he saw Myra
Nell making faces at him.
"Fortunately everything is arranged now," he assured his hostess. But
this did not satisfy Miss Warren, who, with apparent innocence,
questioned the two men until Papa La Branche began to bog and flounder
in his explanations. Fortunately for the men, she was diverted for the
moment by discovering that the table was set for only four.
"Oh, we need another place," she exclaimed, "for Vittoria!"
The old lady said, quietly: "No, dear. While we were alone it was
permissible, but it is better now in this way."
Myra Nell's ready acquiescence was a shock to Norvin, arguing, as it
did, that these people regarded the Countess Margherita as an employee.
Could it be that they were so utterly blind?
He was allowed little time for such thoughts, however, since Myra Nell
set herself to the agreeable task of unmasking her lover and
confounding Montegut La Branche. But Cousin Althea was not of a
suspicious nature, and continued to beam upon her husband, albeit a
trifle vaguely. Then when breakfast was out of the way the girl added
to Norvin's embarrassment by flirting with him so outrageously that he
was glad to flee to Papa Montegut's piquet game.
At the first opportunity he said to Vittoria: "I feel dreadfully about
this. Why, they seem to think you're a--a--servant! It's unbearable!"
"That is part of my work; I am accustomed to it." She smiled.
"Then you _have_ changed. But if they knew the truth, how differently
they'd act!"
"They must never suspect; more depends upon it than you know."
"I feel horribly guilty, all the same."
"It can make no difference what they think of me. I'm afraid, however,
that you have--made it--difficult for Myra Nell."
"So it appears. I didn't think of her when I entered this delightful
prison."
"You had no choice."
"It wasn't altogether that. I wanted to be near you, Vittoria."
Her glance was level and cool, her voice steady. "It was chivalrous to
try to spare me the necessity of explaining. The situation was trying;
but we were both to blame, and now we must make the best of it. Myra
Nell's misunderstanding is complete, and she will be unhappy unless you
devote yourself to her."
"I simply can't. I think I'll keep to myself as much as possible."
"You don't know that girl," Vittoria said. "You think she is frivolous
and inconsequent, that she has the brightness of a sunbeam and no more
substance; but you are mistaken. She is good and true and steadfast
underneath, and she can feel deeply."
Blake found that it was impossible to isolate himself. Mr. La Branche
clung to him like a drowning man; his business affairs called him
repeatedly to the telephone; Myra Nell appropriated him with all the
calm assurance of a queen, and Madame La Branche insisted upon seeing
personally to his every want. The only person of whom he saw little was
Vittoria Fabrizi.
His disappearance, of course, required much explaining and long
conversations with his office, with his associates, and with police
headquarters, where his plight was regarded as a great joke. This was
all very well; but there were other and unforeseen consequences.
Bernie Dreux heard of the affair with blank amazement, which turned
into something resembling rage. His duty, however, was plain. He packed
a valise and set out for the quarantined house like a man marching to
his execution; for he had a deathly horror of disease, and smallpox was
beyond compare the most loathsome.
But the Health Department had given strict orders, and he was turned
away; nay, he was rudely repulsed. Crushed, humiliated, he retired to
his club, and there it was that Rilleau found him, steeped in
melancholy and a very insidious brand of Kentucky Bourbon.
When Lecompte accused Blake of breaking the rules of the game, the
little bachelor rose resolutely to his sister's defense.
"Norvin's got a perfect right to protect her," he lied, "and I honor
him for it."
"You mean he's engaged to her?" Rilleau inquired, blankly.
Bernie nodded.
"Well, so am I, so are Delevan and Mangny, and the others."
"Not this way." Mr. Dreux's alcoholic flush deepened. "He thought she
was in danger, so he flew to her side. Mighty unselfish to sacrifice
his business and brave the disease. He did it with my consent,
y'understand? When he asked me, I said, 'Norvin, my boy, she needs
you.' So he went. Unselfish is no word for it; he's a man of honor, a
hero."
Mr. Rilleau's gloom thickened, and he, too, ordered the famous Bourbon.
He sighed.
"I'd have done the same thing; I offered to, and I'm no hero. I suppose
that ends us. It's a great disappointment, though. I hoped--during
Carnival week that she'd--Well, I wanted her for my real queen."
Bernie undertook to clap the speaker on the shoulder and admonish him
to buck up; but his eye was wavering and his aim so uncertain that he
knocked off Mr. Rilleau's hat. With due apologies he ran on:
"She couldn't have been queen at all, only for him. He made it
possible."
"I had as much to say about it as he did."
Bernie whispered: "He lent me the money, y'understand? It was all
right, under the circumstances, everything being settled but the date,
y'understand?"
Rilleau rose at last, saying: "You're all to be congratulated. He is
the best fellow in New Orleans, and there's only one man I'd rather see
your sister marry than him; that's me. Now I'm going to select a
present before the rush commences. What would you think of an onyx
clock with gold cupids straddling around over it?"
"Fine! I'm sorry, old man--I like you, y'understand?" Bernie upset his
chair in rising to embrace his friend, then catching sight of August
Kulm, who entered at the moment, he made his way to him and repeated
his explanations.
Mr. Kulm was silent, attentive, despairing, and spoke vaguely of
suicide, whereupon Dreux set himself to the task of drowning this
Teutonic instinct in the flowing bowl.
"I don't know what has happened to the boys," Myra Nell complained to
Norvin, on the second day after his arrival. "Lecompte was going to
read me the Rubaiyat, and Raymond Cline promised me a bunch of orchids;
but nobody has shown up."
"It's jealousy," he said, lightly.
"I suppose so. Of course it was nice of you to compromise me this
way--it's delicious, in fact--but I didn't think it would scare off the
others."
"You think I have compromised you?"
"You know you have, _terribly_. I'm engaged to all of them--everybody,
in fact, except you--"
"But they know my presence here is unintentional."
"Oh! _Is_ it, really?" She laughed.
"Don't you believe it is?"
"Goodness! Don't spoil all my pleasure. If ever I saw two cringing,
self-conscious criminals, it's you and Papa Montegut. Men are so
deceitful. Heigh-ho! I thought this was going to be splendid, but you
play cards all day with Mr. La Branche while I die of loneliness."
"What would you like me to do?" he faltered.
"I don't know. It's very dull. Couldn't you sally forth and drag in
Lecompte or Murray or Raymond?" She looked up with eyes beaming.
"Bernie was furious, wasn't he?"
Mr. La Branche came trotting in with the evening newspaper in his hand.
"It's in the paper," he chuckled. "Those reporters get everything."
"What's in the paper?" Myra Nell snatched the sheet from his hand and
read eagerly as he went trotting out again with his slippers applauding
every step. "Oh, Lordy!"
Blake read over her shoulder, and his face flushed.
"Norvin, we're really, truly engaged, now. See!" After a pause, "And
you've never even asked me."
There was only one thing to say.
"Myra Nell," he began, "I want you--Will you--"
"Oh, you goose, you're not taking a cold shower!"
"Will you do me the honor to be my wife?"
She burst into delightful laughter. "So you actually have the courage
to propose? Shall I take time to think it over, or shall I answer now?"
"Now, by all means."
"Very well, of course I--won't."
"Why not?" he exclaimed, with a start.
"The idea! You don't mean it!"
"I do."
"Why, Norvin, you're old enough to be my father."
"Oh, no, I'm not."
"Do you think I could marry a man with gray hair?"
"It all gets gray after a while."
"No. I'll be engaged to you, but I'll never marry any one, never. That
would spoil all the fun. This very thing shows how stupid it must be;
the mere rumor has scared the others away."
"You're a Mormon."
"I'm not. I'll tell you what I'll do; if I ever marry any one, I'll
marry you."
"That's altogether too indefinite."
"I don't see it. Meanwhile we're engaged, aren't we?"
"If that's the case--" He reached uncertainly for her hand, and pressed
it. "I--I'm very happy!"
She waited an instant, watching him shyly, then said: "Now I must show
this to Vittoria. But--please don't look so frightened."
The next instant she was gone. When Miss Fabrizi entered her room, a
half-hour later, it was to find her with her eyes red from weeping.
As for Norvin, he had risen to the occasion as best he could. He loved
Myra Nell sincerely, tenderly, in a big-brotherly way; he would have
gone to any lengths to serve her, yet he could not feel toward her as
he felt toward Vittoria Fabrizi. He nerved himself to stand by his
word, even though it meant the greatest sacrifice. But the thought
agonized him.
Nor was he made more easy as time went on, for Mr. and Mrs. La Branche
took it for granted that he was their cousin's affianced lover; and
while the girl herself now bewildered him with her shy, inviting
coquetry, or again berated him for placing her in an unwelcome
position, he could never determine how much she really cared.
When the quarantine was finally lifted he walked out with feelings akin
to those of a prisoner who has been reprieved.