"Prince Humbert of Elvirna is the man; the trouble, Prince Ferdinand,
his son; the cause, as usual, a woman."
"Cheap cynicism but poorly becomes a man of intellect, much less a
diplomat, monsieur."
"Then I will amend the phrase," he answered, contritely, "and say the
cause, a woman, and leave 'as usual' out."
"It is strange that man, who owes all that is the better part of his
life to woman, should so often make her the object of his sneers," I
observed.
"Strange, save that he so often owes all that is the worst," he
answered, with a passing shade of irritation. "This young fool, this
man, who must marry for the good of the tiny kingdom which will be his
own some day, has chosen--"
"To follow his own affections," I interrupted, with a smile.
"Tush! He has chosen to become enamored of the _passee_ charms of a
third-rate actress--an adventuress searching for youthful fools with
simple hearts and simple brains who cannot discriminate between nature
and art, and would never credit the brightness of their siren's eyes was
due to belladonna."
"He will get over it, _mon cher_. Even you, I doubt not, have had your
weaknesses."
Monsieur scowled at my covert allusion, but ignored it.
"Do you think that this wretched play-actress will give him an
opportunity until it is too late?" he asked. "He now lives in Arcadia,
wanders from morn till eve in leafy woods, whispering sentimental folly
and admiring sunsets, living only in the light of his goddess's eyes,
cooing with this soiled dove, while his father vainly implores for his
return to reason and to duty."
"And the remedy, _mon cher_?"
"Yourself."
"I scarcely comprehend."
"The boy is only infatuated. Infatuation gives way to greater
temptation. He would fall madly in love with the first fresh, pretty
face he saw."
"Thank you, monsieur!" I cried, with mock indignation, and, rising, I
courtesied to the ground before the perplexed gaze of my friend, who
shivered at his blunder.
He twisted his mustache with energy, but did not speak; and I, regaining
possession of my fan, waved it with an air of lofty scorn, and tried to
keep back the smile that, despite my efforts, was breaking round the
curves of my lips.
"Let us be serious, and quite frank with each other," he said at length.
"I want you to go for a week to the solitudes of the Forest of Lecrese,
in the Kingdom of Elvirna, and, winning this young headstrong from his
folly, add yet another service to those which have made me eternally
your debtor. Show him--it will be so easy!--what poor theatrical
blandishments are possessed by this play-actress when compared with the
wit and sparkle of a brilliant woman--what faded beauty when nature
challenges art. Surely it is to your taste, for is it not romantic?"
"It is romantic," I acquiesced. "But let us, as you say, be frank.
Pursue the story further. Suppose the cure prove efficacious--what then?
Is there one greater than I who in turn will win him from me? One more
beautiful, more accomplished, more fascinating, who will say, 'Again,
most simple youth, you are mistaken. Behold! I am the only woman worthy
of your love.'"
The diplomatist chuckled. "If," he said, "I thought there could be one
possessing such unheard-of charms, I would not dare to say so--but there
is no one! I simply ask you to destroy this wretched entanglement, and
then, if the Fates decree that he must surrender utterly to your beauty,
so be it. It is better for a man to break his heart for love of a good
woman than have it broken by a false one. It is a romance with endless
possibilities. Do you consent?"
I reflected. It was a peculiar mission, and, moreover, one in which
failure would be such a crushing blow to vanity, that my only refuge
would be a convent. What if I set myself to fascinate a man and--failed!
Yet there was such a glamour of excitement with it. To match myself
against this adventuress, to fight for a man's honor, to triumph for the
right. All men's eyes confessed me beautiful. Impartially I had scanned
myself, posed as my harshest critic--and a woman can be her own severest
critic if she will--and I too had finished by saying, however
reluctantly, "Yes, _ma chere_, you really are rather pretty." There was
something exhilarating in the thought that here was the opportunity to
prove myself right or wrong, and men truthful or mere flatterers.
"I consent," I cried, "on two conditions: that, success or failure,
Prince Humbert does not meet me in my character study, and that I am
allowed absolute freedom of action, whatever course I take."
"Agreed on all things, and I thank you."
We rose, and I placed my hand upon his arm. "Modesty is woman's sweetest
charm," he remarked, and I gazed into his face, vainly striving to
fathom the meaning of an observation so apropos of nothing. "Why mention
failure?" he continued, and we returned to the ballroom.
* * * * *
The Woods of Lecrese, bathed in the glowing fire of an audacious sunset,
were enough to awaken sentimental yearnings in the breast of one even
more worldly than I. A long, undulating road swept far into the purple
distance, losing itself among the trees that interlaced above; on either
side a cool vista of virgin greensward spread from the carriage-drive,
only relieved by the crimson splashes of the fallen leaves that foretold
the coming autumn, and yet not so severely as to make one dread the
winter. All was solitude and peace. A dangerous hour, and a dangerous
place, I told myself, for a foolish youth and a designing woman.