Don Carlos's eyebrows rose still higher, his lips twitched, and Tony
Standish got the impression that it was only with difficulty he was
refraining from laughing outright. That angered him, and his ruddy
face became still redder.
"Well, what have you to say for yourself?" he demanded, after a pause.
"This is no laughing matter."
"My dear Mr. Standish, what can I say for myself?" Don Carlos retorted,
quietly and gravely. "Your demand for an explanation places me in a
most embarrassing position. How should one answer in the
circumstances. If Miss Rostrevor has told you I have been making love
to her, I cannot deny the accusation without casting doubt on the word
of the most charming and beautiful girl in the world. Yet if I admit
that Miss Rostrevor is justified in her accusation, you may decide I
have been acting dishonourably, and I shall lose your friendship.
Condenacion! Was ever man placed in such an awkward position!"
"Look here, you will certainly make matters worse if you dare to
insinuate that Myra was not telling the truth," exclaimed Standish
hotly.
"I quite appreciate that, my dear Mr. Standish, and I realise, also,
that Miss Rostrevor would be justified in hating me if I dared to cast
doubt on her assertions," said Don Carlos more gravely than ever, with
a sigh and a shrug. "So I must, perforce, confess that I have been
making persistent love to Miss Rostrevor ever since I first met her,
and--well, I am quite prepared to take the consequences. How do you
deal with such a situation in England? In my country we would fight a
duel, and the lady would marry the survivor. Should you think of
fighting a duel, however, Mr. Standish, it is only fair to warn you
that I am an expert swordsman and a dead shot. How shall we deal with
the matter?"
Baffled, and at a loss to know how to deal with the situation, Tony
Standish glowered at him, with the uncomfortable sensation that he was
making a fool of himself, and that Don Carlos was inwardly laughing at
him.
"It isn't a matter to jest about," he said stiffly. "That sort of
thing isn't done in England, and I must ask you to refrain from
approaching Miss Rostrevor again."
"I am desolated, señor!" exclaimed Don Carlos, with a despairing
gesture. "I find it difficult to understand the English
conventionalities in the matter of love-making. If you were Spanish,
my dear Standish, you would not complain of my making love to your
betrothed unless you were unsure of her and were afraid of my winning
her away from you. If you regard me as a dangerous rival, and the
adorable Miss Rostrevor takes me seriously, and you are afraid----"
"That isn't the point, Don Carlos," hastily interposed Tony, beginning
to regret having made so much fuss. "I--er--I am willing to believe
that you have not seriously been trying to steal Myra's affections away
from me, or that possibly Myra may have taken you too seriously."
"How can a mere man hope to read what is in the heart of a woman?"
responded Don Carlos, helping himself to a cigarette. "Our Spanish
girls, if they think an accepted lover is not sufficiently devoted and
attentive, will complain that another man is making passionate
love--thus arousing the lover's jealousy and re-firing him with ardour;
and a married woman will invent a lover and complain of his attentions
for the same reason, if her husband's love seems to be cooling."
"I say, Don Carlos, are you suggesting that Myra complained for that
reason--because she thinks I'm not keen enough?"
"My dear Standish, I am not suggesting anything. I am merely trying to
explain the psychology of the women of my own country as I understand
it. Yet I doubt if Englishwomen differ very greatly, after all, from
their Latin sisters where affairs of the heart are concerned. Won't
you have a cigarette?"
Tony accepted a cigarette from the silver-and-cedar-wood box that was
slid across the table to him, and he lit it with thoughtful
deliberation. Had Myra complained about Don Carlos making love to her
just to keep him "up to scratch," he was wondering, and found himself
more puzzled than ever. He knew that lots of men had been, and
probably still were, in love with Myra, and that fact made him the more
proud to be her accepted lover. He recalled Myra's boast that there
was no horse or man she could not master, and he found it a little
difficult to believe she was really scared of Don Carlos.
"In my country, Mr. Standish, a man betrothed to a girl as beautiful as
Miss Rostrevor would feel almost insulted if his friends did not openly
envy him and protest themselves hopelessly in love with the young lady
he had won," resumed Don Carlos. "The lady herself would feel slighted
if the friends of her betrothed did not continue to attempt to make
love to her. To profess to be heartbroken because she belongs to
another, and to make love to a betrothed girl or a married woman, is
surely paying an indirect compliment to the accepted lover or husband,
as well as a direct compliment to the lady."
"Humph! I hadn't thought of it that way," commented Tony drily. "It
would never have occurred to me for a moment that in making love to
Myra you were paying me any sort of compliment. Here in England, Don
Carlos, any man who persists in making love to an engaged girl or a
married woman is asking for trouble. Of course, I can appreciate the
fact that most women would feel flattered by the thought that a man
like you had fallen in love with them, even if you were only pretending
out of a desire to be polite, but--er--well, obviously Myra appears to
be more annoyed than flattered. Perhaps, as I said before, she has
taken you too seriously."
"Or possibly not seriously enough," responded Don Carlos, his grave
face crinkling into a smile. "I am hopelessly in love with her, my
dear Standish, and mean to make her fall in love with me. What are we
going to do in the circumstances?"
"Really, I don't know, Don Carlos," answered Standish, deciding that
the other was jesting. "It's frightfully awkward. Frightfully!
Er--you see, old chap, Myra says she won't come to Auchinleven for the
shooting if you are going to be one of the party, and--er--well, as you
can understand, that places me in a frightfully awkward position."
"I fully realise that, Mr. Standish," said Don Carlos very gravely,
after a long pause which increased Tony's embarrassment. "I, also, am
now placed in an awkward position. I have told many of my friends and
acquaintances to-day that I have been invited to Auchinleven for the
shooting by my friend Mr. Antony Standish, and now I shall have to
explain to everyone that the invitation is cancelled because my friend
fears I shall continue to make love to his fiancée, and Miss Rostrevor
fears I may abduct her, persuade her to elope with me, or something of
the sort. Yes, decidedly a difficult situation!"
"Here, I say, Don Carlos, you'll make me and Myra the laughing-stock of
London if you tell people that!" Tony protested, looking quite
distressed. "Myra will be furious with me and with you, and--er--I--I
suppose you are thinking I am a mean sort of skunk. I'm frightfully
sorry! I say, old chap, can't you suggest some way out of the
difficulty?"
"Well, possibly if I were permitted to have a talk with Miss Rostrevor,
and explain why I have been making love to her, she might understand
matters better and raise no objection to my figuring as a guest at
Auchinleven," said Don Carlos, after another thoughtful pause.
"Jolly good idea!" Tony exclaimed. "I'm quite sure if you explained
matters tactfully to Myra she would understand you have really only
been trying to pay her compliments. Myra's a good sort, and I feel
sure she will accept your explanation."
Don Carlos made no immediate response. He dropped his cigarette into
an ash-tray, rose to his feet with a sigh, and strolled to the window
of his sitting room to gaze out absently across the Green Park.
"'There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which
I know not: The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a
rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man
with a maid,'" he said at length, as if to himself. "So it is written
in the Book of Proverbs."
"Er--I say, old chap, I--I hope you are not going to take this too much
to heart," remarked Tony, again feeling puzzled and uncomfortable. "If
only Myra understands and appreciates what your love-making meant----"
"I shall be happy--provided she responds in the way I desire," broke in
Don Carlos, swinging round suddenly from the window, his face lighting
up into a smile again. "Of course, if Miss Rostrevor is afraid of me,
or if you are afraid I shall take her from you and desire to cancel
your invitation on that account, I----"
"There isn't any question of that, Don Carlos," Tony interrupted in
turn. "At least, I--er--I don't think Myra is afraid of you. I fancy
she has merely misunderstood your intentions."
"I should not have imagined that to be possible," said Don Carlos.
"However, when I have discussed the situation with the charming lady,
perhaps she will decide to allow me to be a guest at Auchinleven. I
warn you, my dear Standish, that I shall not promise to refrain from
making love to her, and will continue to try to win her heart. I think
I can take the risk of your challenging me to mortal combat."
He looked with a challenging smile at Tony, who laughed, imagining that
he was making a jest of the whole affair.
"I hardly fancy it will be a case of 'pistols for two; coffee for
one,'" Tony said; "and I feel sure you will be able to make peace with
Myra. As a matter of fact, Don Carlos, I am beginning to wonder now if
Myra has been pulling my leg. She has played jokes on me more than
once before and made me feel rather an ass."
"Perhaps on this occasion the charming lady is playing a joke on both
of us," suggested Don Carlos lightly. "Let us drink a toast to her
together, although we are such deadly rivals."
He slid the decanter across the table invitingly, and Tony helped
himself to a drink, still imagining that Don Carlos was jesting, and
deciding that Myra had again made him feel "rather an ass."
"Cheerio!" he drawled, raising his glass after Don Carlos had poured
himself a drink. "All the best!"
"The toast is Miss Myra Rostrevor, the loveliest and most adorable girl
in the world, and may her lover get his heart's desire," cried Don
Carlos gaily, and drained his glass.
"Thanks awfully!" said Tony. "It's frightfully good of you, my dear
chap, not to take offence, and I feel sure you will be able to win Myra
over."
"It is my most ardent desire to win Myra over, my dear Standish," said
Don Carlos, as Tony rose to go. "Pray convey to her my most respectful
salutations, and beg her to receive me this afternoon."
It was with mingled amusement and exasperation that Myra listened to
Tony's account of the interview. She could not help feeling that Don
Carlos had turned the tables on Tony, and now had it in his power to
make her look ridiculous.
"I think he is the most conceited and impudent man in the world," she
commented. "And he's clever! If I refuse to go to Auchinleven, he
will tell the world it is because I am afraid of falling in love with
him. If you withdraw your invitation to him, he will explain it is
because you are afraid he might persuade me to elope with him. He will
flatter himself we are both afraid of him, and the affair will become
the joke of the season."
"Yes, I realise that, Myra," drawled Tony. "He's got that laugh on us,
so to speak, and I think it would be best to save our faces by
pretending the whole affair was a sort of practical joke on your part.
I don't suppose he'll try to make love to you again, and even if he
does you will know he is not in earnest."
"Tony, you duffer, let me assure you he is very much in earnest, and he
means to take me from you," said Myra. "And I warn you, my dear, that
I should probably have fallen for him and jilted you if he wasn't so
inordinately proud of himself and hadn't boasted that he would compel
me to love him. As it is, I am not sure that I am not in love with
him."
"I say, Myra, you're not pulling my leg again, are you?" asked Tony,
tugging at his little sandy moustache and looking worried. "I'm in a
frightfully awkward position, as I said before. I like the chap
immensely, and I think he's too much of a gentleman to poach--although,
of course, foreigners have a different code of morals from us, and
aren't to be trusted where women are concerned. I--er--I don't quite
know what to do, but, of course, I'll do anything rather than risk
losing you."
There flashed into his mind as he spoke Don Carlos's remark concerning
women complaining of another man's attentions in order to bring a
husband or a lover "up to scratch," and he had what he would have
described as a "brain wave."
"I say, I've got a bright idea, darling," he continued, before Myra
could speak. "Let's solve the difficulty by getting married at once.
I'll get a special licence, and we'll set a new fashion by entertaining
a house party in the Highlands during our honeymoon. Even the boldest
man would surely hesitate to make love to another man's wife during her
honeymoon. What do you say?"
Myra pursed her red lips and wrinkled her brows in thought, and Tony
took her indecision to be a good sign.
"Say 'yes,' darling," he urged. "You know I'm most tremendously in
love with you and frightfully keen, and you will have no further reason
to feel afraid of Don Carlos when you are my wife."
"I'm not afraid of Don Carlos," snapped Myra. "Oh, Tony, don't be so
dense and exasperating! Almost I wish now I had never told you about
the tiresome and conceited creature's love-making... Besides," she
added, inconsequentially, "I don't want to get married yet, and if I
did marry you before we go to Scotland Don Carlos would pride himself
it was to protect myself from him, and it would be worse and more
dangerous if he made love to me as a married woman. Oh, Tony, my dear,
I'm getting mixed, but maybe you understand what I mean. I'm not
afraid of Don Carlos, but I don't want to give him any chance of going
about boasting that I am in love with him."
"I don't think he would do that, Myra," said Tony. "He seems an
awfully decent sort of chap. If you'd heard his explanation, you would
understand that he was really only paying us both a compliment by
pretending to make love to you. I do hope you'll see him, my dear, and
let him explain and apologise. I don't understand why you're so cross
with me, darling."
He looked so absurdly pathetic that Myra's irritation gave way to
amusement, and her lovely face dimpled into smiles.
"I'm not really cross with you, Tony, my dear, although I do think you
have made rather a mess of things," she exclaimed, and gave Tony an
affectionate pat on both cheeks. "It will be interesting and amusing
to listen to Don Carlos's explanations and apologies--if any... Oh,
yes, Tony, I'll see him, and I think I shall manage to take some of the
conceit out of him."
As it happened, Lady Fermanagh had an engagement that afternoon, and
Myra was alone when Don Carlos de Ruiz was announced. Myra had been
doing some hard thinking, and she was feeling sure of herself as she
rose to greet her visitor, who bowed low before smiling into her eyes.
"I have called to offer my congratulations, dear lady," he said, in his
deep, caressing voice.
"Congratulations? On what, pray?" inquired Myra very coldly. "I
understood from Mr. Standish that you were calling to offer apologies
for having annoyed me."
"I have come to proffer both apologies and congratulations," said Don
Carlos slowly, twin imps of mischief dancing in his laughing eyes. "I
have come to tender my most humble apologies for having so far,
apparently, failed to melt your icy heart and fire it with the love
that burns within me; to congratulate you on being the first woman who
has ever taken exception to my making love to her. And to congratulate
you, also, on being such an excellent actress."
"Actress? What do you mean?"
"Your pretence of annoyance, dear lady, is such a fine piece of acting
that almost I am persuaded you are not in love with me and have steeled
your heart against me."
"Please go on being persuaded." Myra's tone was intended to be
sardonic. "So far it seems to me you have called to pay yourself
compliments instead of to offer apologies. Apparently you explained to
Mr. Standish that your love-making was intended as a compliment. Let
me tell you, Don Carlos, if that is so I want no more of your
compliments."
"If I believed that, sweet lady, life would lose its savour and become
but a bleak existence," responded Don Carlos. "I prefer to believe
that you love, yet refrain, and that your complaint to your fiancé is
an indication that your resistance is weakening, that you fear unless
you are able to avoid me you will inevitably surrender to the call of
love."
"Your overweening conceit would be laughable if it were not so
irritating," Myra retorted curtly. "I want to tell you bluntly that
unless you give me your word of honour not to attempt to make love to
me I shall refuse to go to Auchinleven if you are to be one of the
party, and that will leave Mr. Standish no alternative but to cancel
his invite to you--and explain to his friends that his reason is my
objection to you."
The smile died out of Don Carlos's eyes, and he regarded Myra gravely
and silently for a few moments.
"I promise you I shall not make love to you while we are in Scotland,"
he said at last. "It will be desperately hard to resist the
temptation, but I promise to refrain. And I never go back on a
promise."
"Good! In that case we can let bygones be bygones and be friends,"
exclaimed Myra, and impulsively held out her hand.
Don Carlos raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them, and the
boyish smile came back to his face.
"Let me warn you, however, my dear Myra, that although I speak no word
of love, my heart and my eyes will be making love to you all the time,
and every fibre of my being will be loving you and longing for you," he
said. "I shall be planning new ways of overcoming your resistance and
inducing you to confess that you love me. Always my heart will be
calling and calling to you."
"As long as you do not badger me with your attentions, as you have been
doing, it will not concern me what is happening to your heart,"
remarked Myra, forcing a laugh. "You can even pretend to be
heartbroken, if you think the role will suit you."
"No, the role of broken-hearted, rejected suitor would not please me,"
laughed Don Carlos. "I shall be the strong, silent man, biding his
time, confident of eventually gaining his heart's desire. Meanwhile I
am congratulating myself on having made it possible to fulfil my boast
that I should be your fellow-guest in Scotland for the shooting."
"You have my leave to congratulate yourself as much as you like, Don
Carlos, and to hand yourself as many bouquets as you like," said Myra
smilingly, "but I shall hold you to your promise not to attempt to make
love to me."
"I promise you, Myra, I shall be as silent as a Trappist monk, so far
as talking love to you is concerned," Don Carlos assured her. "My
promise, however, only holds good for the duration of our stay in the
Highlands. After that----"
"Tony and I are going to be married in the Spring," interrupted Myra.
"I think not," said Don Carlos with great earnestness. "You will be
mine, dear heart, before the Spring flowers have finished blooming."
"Oh, please don't start being absurd again, just after promising to be
sensible!" protested Myra.
"You will be mine, dear heart, before the Spring flowers have finished
blooming," repeated Don Carlos. "Sweet lady, you may take that as
another promise made in all seriousness. I love you, and I have
sworn----"
"Let's change the subject, Don Carlos," interrupted Myra again.
"Oblige me by making your promise not to make love to me date from this
minute."
"As you will, beloved," said Don Carlos, with an exaggerated sigh; and
Myra could not decide whether or not he was laughing.