"Then, why is it that Major Dalberg's record in the War office in
Washington makes no mention of this marriage? I happen to know it does
not."
"I do not know," she answered, rather tartly. "It was not, I assume,
my duty to report it."
"And, further, Madame," Lotzen continued. "If Major Dalberg were lucky
enough to marry you, why, in Heaven's name, should he deny you within a
few short months?"
"I might guess one of the reasons," she answered languidly--and let her
eyes rest upon the Princess.
And Dehra laughed in her face.
Lotzen shrugged his shoulders and was silent.
"Are there any more questions, Messieurs?" she asked.
No one answered.
"Then, with your permission, I will obey my husband's orders and
withdraw," she said mockingly. "Major Moore, your arm."
When she was gone, Lotzen turned to me and held out his hand.
"I'm with you, Armand," he said heartily. "She's no wife of yours,
certificate to the contrary notwithstanding."
I thanked him gratefully--the more so since it was so totally
unexpected. Then, without giving the others an opportunity to express
their opinion (they would, of course, have been constrained to agree
with the Heir Presumptive; all except the Princess, and, of her, I had
no doubt) and addressing, particularly, the Radnors, I said:
"The supper is spoiled beyond repair, I fear, but I shall ask you to go
on with it, for I wish to acquaint you with some facts in the life of
the woman who claims me as her husband."
"We are quite ready to accept Your Highness's simple denial," said Lord
Radnor.
"I prefer you hear my story first," I answered.
Then I told them, in detail, what I had only outlined to the Princess,
concerning Madeline Spencer. When I had finished, Lord Radnor shook
his grey head gravely.
"His Highness of Lotzen is quite right," he said. "You never married
that woman. Either she is a blackmailer or she is doing this in pure
revenge. What's your notion, Courtney?"
"The marriage story is, of course, a pure lie," said Courtney, "but,
there, I quit. I never try to guess a woman's purpose--and a pretty
woman's least of all."
"God bless me, man!" Radnor exclaimed; "for a bachelor you are wondrous
wise."
"Maybe that's why he is a bachelor," said Lady Helen.
"But even the wise get foolish at times," I said--and smiled at her.
And she made a face at me behind her fan.
Then the Princess arose and, taking Lord Radnor's arm, she led the way
down the garden. I came last with Lady Radnor. When we reached the
exit Dehra insisted upon waiting until the Radnors and Courtney had
gone. She was, she said, helping me do the honors. Then, when her own
carriage was at the door, she turned to the Countess Giska.
"His Highness will drive with me," she said. "Major Moore, will you
escort the Countess?"
"But, Dehra----" I protested.
She was in the brougham, now.
"You will not permit me to drive alone to the Palace," she said.
"But, Dehra----" I began again.
She reached over and took my hand.
Still I hesitated.
"Come, sweetheart," she said softly.
I could resist no longer. I sprang in; the door slammed, and we were
alone together.
No, not alone, either. The Spencer woman was there with us--before
us--all around us. "I am Armand Dalberg's wife" was pounding in my
brain.
Then I felt a soft little hand slip into mine; a perfumed hair tress
touched my cheek; and the sweetest voice, to me, on earth whispered in
my ear.
"Don't I get my kiss now?"
I flung my arm about her and caught her close--then loosed her sharply
and drew back.
"God help me, Dehra, I may not," I said.
She laughed softly, and again she found my hand--and I felt her hair
brush my face--and her body rest against my shoulder.
"Why, Armand?" she asked. "Why may you not kiss your betrothed?"
"Because," said I, "because----"
"Yes, dear, go on," she whispered.
I drew my hand away from hers. "Did you not hear that woman claim me
as her husband?" I said.
But she only pressed the closer. I was in the very corner of the
carriage now; I could retreat no farther. And, maybe, I was glad. I
think I was.
"But that's no reason," she insisted. "You are not her husband."
"You believe that, dear?" I cried.
She put her arms about my neck and kissed me, almost fiercely, on the
lips--then, suddenly, drew back and, with both hands pressed against my
breast, she viewed me at arm's length.
"Believe it?" she said; "believe it? I never believed anything else."
I took her hands and reverently touched them to my forehead--then, held
them tight.
"After all these years, God would not send you to me just to mock my
prayers," she added.
"But the certificate!" I objected.
"A lie or a forgery," she said scornfully.
I drew her head upon my shoulder. "Sweetheart," I whispered; "may I
kiss you, now?"
She lifted her dear face and looked up into mine with glistening eyes,
her lips half parted. My own eyes, too, were wet, I think.
"Yes, Armand--now and always," she answered.
And, so I held her, for a moment; then, bent and kissed her. And that
kiss is on my lips this instant, and will be until they numb in death.