To those who have never been to Dornlitz I may say that the Hanging
Garden is the name for the great balcony of the Hotel Metzen. It
suggests--very faintly--the Terrace at Westminster; though, of course,
it is far more beautiful, with the dancing waters of Lake Lorg instead
of the dirty, sluggish Thames. It is the peculiarly fashionable
restaurant, and is always thronged in the evening with the aristocracy
of the Kingdom. To-night, the extreme end of the balcony had been
reserved for me, and a very slight bank of plants was arranged to
separate us from the general crowd.
Just before the final curtain, His Highness of Lotzen had strolled into
the Royal Box. To my surprise he congratulated me very heartily upon
my appointment as Governor of Dornlitz; and, perforce, I invited him to
join us at supper.
He hesitated a moment, and I urged him to come. In fact, I felt a bit
sorry for him. He had just lost the Princess and, with her, likely,
his chance at the Throne, as well. And I had won the one and, very
possibly, the other, also. I could afford to be generous. After
to-night, however,--when he had learned of these facts--it would be for
him to indicate as to our future attitude. For my part, I was quite
willing to be friendly.
The entrance of my party made something of a sensation. To reach our
table, we were obliged to pass down the Garden almost half its length
and the people arose instantly and bowed.
To Lotzen, this deference was such an ordinary incident of his daily
life he, doubtless, scarcely noticed it. But I was still fresh in my
Royalty and it did attract me--though, I think I appreciated what he
did not; that their courtesy was, in truth, to the Princess only, and
not to us. Indeed, it would have been just the same if the King
himself had been with us. When Dehra was in presence the people had
eyes for her alone.
The supper was deliciously cooked; the wine was excellent; the service
beyond criticism. I had given the two Ambassadors to Dehra and had put
Lady Helen between Lotzen and myself, with Lord Radnor on the Duke's
left.
We were a merry party. Dehra was positively bewitching and Radnor was
simply fascinated. He could scarcely take his eyes from her, even when
addressed by Lotzen; which was very little, for the Duke devoted
himself very assiduously to Lady Helen. So I was remitted to Lady
Radnor, who was about the most tiresomely uninteresting mortal it had
been my misfortune to know--a funeral service was an extravaganza in
comparison to her talk. In Washington, my rank had never entitled me
to a seat at her side at dinner; and many was the time I had chaffed
Courtney, or some other unfortunate, who had been so stranded beside
Her Ponderousness. To-night, however, my turn was come, and Courtney
was getting his revenge.
My only solace were the occasional smiles that Dehra gave me--smiles
that Courtney noted instantly and, I fancied, understood; and that
Lotzen intercepted; but what he thought I did not know and did not
care. Who ever cares what his defeated rival thinks!
We had been there for, possibly, half an hour when, happening to glance
outward, I saw Madeline Spencer and an elderly woman, and the man who
had been in the box with her, coming slowly down the Garden. It
chanced that a table near us had just been vacated and they were shown
to it by the head-waiter, whose excessive obsequiousness proved the
size of his tip.
Mrs. Spencer gave our party a single quick glance, as she drew off her
gloves, and then fell to conversing with her companions.
All this I had noted out of the corner of my eye, as it were. I had
not the least doubt she had recognized me at the Opera, and I did not
intend to give her a chance to speak to me--which I knew she would try
to do, the Pittsburgh experience notwithstanding, if she thought it
might further her present plans or pleasures.
Lotzen, however, had been drinking rather freely and was not so chary
with his glances. Indeed, he stared so frankly that Lady Helen did not
hesitate to prod him about it.
"I would take her to be an American," I heard him say.
"Without a doubt," Lady Helen answered.
Inwardly, I consigned the Spencer woman to perdition. They would be
interrogating me about her, next; and I did not know just how to
answer. I would have to admit knowing her; that would only whet their
curiosity and bring further questions. To tell the whole story was
absurd--and, yet, only a little of it would leave a rather unpleasant
inference against me. At any rate, on Dehra's account, I did not want
the matter discussed.
I could feel Lotzen's glance, and I knew he was waiting only for a
break in Lady Radnor's discourse. I gave him as much of my back as
possible, and encouraged her to proceed. She was on the Tenement House
problem; but I had no idea what she was advocating, in particular. I
did not care. All I wanted was talk--talk--talk. And, whenever she
showed signs of slowing up, I flung in a word and spurred her on again.
And she responded nobly; and I marvelled at her staying powers--at Lord
Radnor's fortitude through so many years--at Lady Helen being the child
of such a mother. But, all the time, I was conscious of Lotzen
waiting--waiting--waiting. I could hear his voice and Lady Helen's
merry laugh, yet I knew nothing but the ending of the supper and the
breaking of the party, with Lady Radnor still riding her hobby, would
save me from the question. I threw in another remark to keep her
going. It was fatal.
Lord Radnor heard it; and, catching his wife's reply, I saw him frown.
"Lord bless us!" he exclaimed to the Princess and Courtney, "we must
rescue His Highness--Lady Radnor is on the Tenement problem."
I tried to signal Courtney to keep Radnor occupied; but he did not
understand, and only smiled and whispered something to the Princess.
Then Lord Radnor caught his wife's eye and the old lady's discourse
ended abruptly.
"I fear I weary Your Royal Highness," she said.
"On the contrary, I am deeply interested," I assured her. "Pray
continue."
Her glance wandered eagerly across the table, but she got no
encouragement from the Ambassador.
"Your Highness is very gracious," she said, "and, sometime, if you are
so minded, I shall gladly show you the late reports from the London
Society."
I dared not urge her further; Lord Radnor would have suspected me of
making sport of his wife. So I cudgelled my brain for some other
subject to talk up with her. Of course, I failed to find it instantly,
and, in the momentary silence, Lotzen's opportunity came.
"Armand," he said, leaning a bit forward, "Lady Helen and I have been
discussing the woman in black, yonder--the pretty one. We take her to
be an American--what is your opinion?"
The whole table heard the question, and every one looked at the
lady--either immediately or when they could do it with proper
discretion.
"You mean the woman with the elderly couple, just near us?" I asked,
glancing thither, and so on around to the Princess, who met me with a
smile.
"The same," said Lotzen.
"You're quite right," said I; "she is an American."
"You know her?" he asked.
"I used to know her."
He hesitated a moment--and, of course, everyone waited. "Couldn't you
still know her enough to present me?" he asked.
I shook my head. "You would be most unfortunate in your sponsor," I
answered.
He smiled indulgently. "I'll risk it," he said.
"But, maybe, I won't," I answered.
His smile broadened. "Come, come, cousin mine," he said; "don't be
selfish with the lady."
I smiled blandly back at him, though my hand itched to strike him in
the face.
"My dear Duke," I said, "you forget I may not yet have had time to
acquire certain of the--dilettante accomplishments of Royalty."
His expression changed instantly. "I beg your pardon, Armand," he
said, "I was only joking."
I saw Courtney glance at Lady Helen and slowly shut one eye. He knew,
as did I, that Lotzen lied.
"There is naught to pardon, cousin," I said. "We both were joking."
Then Lady Helen came to my relief.
"But there is considerable for Her Royal Highness and me to pardon,"
she said.
"Yes," said I, "there is."
"I take all the blame," Lotzen interrupted. "I alone am guilty;
proceed with the judgment."
"What shall it be?" said Lady Helen to the Princess.
Dehra shrugged her pretty shoulders and raised her hands expressively.
"The only punishment that fits the crime is to deprive the Duke of
Lotzen of all wine for the rest of the evening."
It seemed to me the Duke winced.
"Your Highness is severe," he said.
She looked him straight in the eyes. "On the contrary, cousin, I am
kind to put it so--and you know it."
But Lotzen's equanimity was not to be disturbed. He smiled with
engaging frankness.
"The Queen can do no wrong," he said, and bowed over the table.
Just then, Madeline Spencer arose and I breathed a sigh of relief--she
was going. The next instant I almost gasped. Instead of going, she
came swiftly toward us--passed the low bank of plants--and straight to
me.
I arose--all the men arose--and bowed stiffly. She hesitated and
seemed a bit embarrassed--then, suddenly, held out her hand to me.
"I am afraid, Armand," she said, "you are not glad to see me."
Armand! Armand! Lord, what nerve! A rush of sharp anger almost
choked me, yet I tried to look at her only in calm interrogation.
"I think, Mrs. Spencer," I said, just touching her hand, "almost every
man is glad to see a pretty woman."
She gave me a look of surprise; then, threw up her head, disdainfully.
"You called me 'Mrs. Spencer'?" she asked.
I looked at her in surprise. "I was not aware you had changed your
name," I answered.
She took a step backward. "You were not aware of what?" she exclaimed.
"That you were no longer Mrs. Spencer," I said--a trifle curtly, maybe.
I thought she was playing for a presentation to the Princess and I had
no intention of gratifying her, even if I had to be rude to her
deliberately.
She passed her hand across her brow and stared at me incredulously. I
turned half aside and glanced around the table. Every face but three
showed blank amazement. Of those three, the Princess's wore a tolerant
smile; Lotzen's a frown; but Courtney's was set in almost a sneer.
And, at it, I marvelled. Later, I understood; he had, by some queer
intuition, guessed what was to follow.
When I came back to Mrs. Spencer her expression had changed. The
incredulous look was gone; bright anger flamed, instead.
"Do you still persist, sir, that you do not know my rightful name?" she
demanded.
From my previous acquaintance with the lady I knew she was working
herself into a passion; though, why, I could not imagine.
"My dear Madame," I said, "why such pother over such a trifle? If your
name be, no longer, Madeline Spencer, tell me what it is. I shall be
profoundly glad to call you by it--or any name than Spencer," I added.
She felt the thrust and her eyes answered it. Then, suddenly, she
turned and faced those at the table.
"Your pardon," she said, speaking straight at Lord Radnor, "will you
tell me if this man here"--waving her hand toward me--"is Major Armand
Dalberg?"
Lord Radnor bowed. "That gentleman is His Royal Highness the Grand
Duke Armand of Valeria," he said.
"Erstwhile, Major of Engineers in the American Army?" she asked.
"I believe so, Madame," said his Lordship, stiffly.
"Thank you," she said. "And now----"
But I broke in. "Madame," I said sharply, "you have presumed beyond
forbearance. Major Moore, will you escort the lady to her companions."
Moore stepped forward and, bowing very low, offered his arm. Like a
flash, her face changed and she met him with a smile.
"Just a moment, if you please," she said, with softest accents. Then,
with studied deliberation, she turned her back on me and swept the
Princess an elaborate courtesy.
"Your Royal Highness may pardon my intrusion," she said, "when I tell
you that I am Armand Dalberg's wife---- Now, Major Moore, I am ready,"
and she put her hand upon his arm.
But Moore never moved. Instead, he looked at me for orders.
Language is utterly inadequate to describe my feelings at that moment;
so I shall not try. Imagination is better than words. I know I had an
almost uncontrollable impulse for violence--and I fancy Courtney feared
it, for he stepped quickly over and put his hand on my shoulder.
"Thank you, old man," I said. Then I looked at the Princess.
She was leaning carelessly back in her chair, watching the Spencer
woman through half-closed eyes--a bright flush on each cheek and: a
faint smile, half sneer, half amusement, on her lips. Suddenly she
looked at me, and the smile flashed out into such an one as she had
given me in the Royal Box.
My heart gave a great bound--I knew she trusted me, still. I turned to
the woman in black.
"Is it possible, Madame, that you claim to be my wife?" I asked.
She dropped Moore's arm and took a step toward me--and, as I live,
there were tears in her eyes.
"What has changed you, Armand?" she asked. "Why do you flout me so?"