Lucy was silent and dejected for a day or two, being filled with pity
for Mr. Perry's ruined life. But when she saw his name in a list of
outgoing passengers on the Paris her heart gave a bound of relief.
Nothing more could now be done. That chapter was closed. There had
been no other chapter of moment in her life, she told herself sternly.
Now, all the clouds had cleared away. It was a new day. She would
begin again.
So she put on new clothes, none of which she had ever worn before, and
tied back her curly hair with a fresh white ribbon, and came down to
breakfast singing gayly.
Miss Vance gave her her roll and milk in silence, and frowning
importantly, drew out a letter.
"Lucy, I have just received a communication from Prince Wolfburgh. He
is in Bozen."
"Here!" Lucy started up, glancing around like a chased hare.
Then she sat down again and waited. There was no other chapter, and
the book was so blank!
"His coming is very opportune," she said presently, gently.
"Oh! do YOU think so, my dear? Really! Well, I always have liked the
young man. So simple. So secure of his social position. The
Wolfburghs, I find, go back to the eleventh century. Mr. Perry had
noble traits, but one never felt quite safe as to his nails or his
grammar."
"But the prince--the prince?" cried Jean.
"Oh, yes. Well, he writes--most deferentially. He begs for the honor
of an interview with me this afternoon upon a subject of the most vital
importance. He says, 'regarding you, as I do, in loco parentis to the
hochgeboren Fraulein Dunbar.'" "Hochgeboren!" said Lucy. "My
grandfather was a saddler. Tell him so, Miss Vance. Tell him the
exact facts. I want no disclosures after----"
"After marriage?" said Jean, rising suddenly. "Then you have decided?"
"I have not said that I had decided," replied Lucy calmly.
Jean laughed. "He will not be scared by the saddler. Europeans of his
order take no account of our American class distinctions. They look
upon us as low-born parvenues, all alike. They weigh and value us by
other standards than birth."
"I have money, if you mean that, Jean," said Lucy cheerfully.
"I think you had better go away, girls, if you have finished your
dejeuner. He may be here at any moment now," said Clara, looking
anxiously at her watch.
Lucy went to her little chamber and sat down to work at a monstrous
caricature which she was painting of the church. Jean paced up and
down the stone corridor, looking out of the window into the Platz.
"He has come," she said excitedly, appearing at Lucy's door. "He went
into the church first, to say an ave for help, poor little man! His
fat face is quite pale and stern. It is a matter of life and death to
him. And it's no more to you than the choosing of a new coat."
Lucy smiled and sketched in a priest on the church steps. Her hand
shook, but Jean could not see that. She went to the window again with
something like an inward oath at the dolts of commonplace women who had
all the best chances, but was back in a moment, laughing nervously.
"Do you know he has on that old brown suit?" She leaned against the
jamb of the door. "If I were a prince, and came a-wooing, I would have
troops of my Jagers, and trumpets and banners with the arms of my
House, and I'd wear all my decorations. Of course we Americans are
bound to say that rank and royalty are dead things. But if I had them,
I'd galvanize the corpses! If they are useful as shows, I'd make the
show worth seeing. I'd cover myself with jewels like the old
Romanoffs. You would never see Queen Jean in a slouchy alpaca and
pork-pie hat like Victoria." While her tongue chattered, her eyes
watched Lucy keenly. "You don't hear me! You are deciding what to do.
Why on earth should you hesitate? He is a gentleman--he loves you!"
and then to Lucy's relief she suddenly threw on her hat and rushed off
for a walk.
Miss Dunbar painted the priest's robe yellow, in her agitation. But
the agitation was not deep. There really seemed no reason why she
should hesitate. He would be kind; he was well-bred and agreeable. A
princess? She had a vague idea of a glorified region of ancestral
castles and palaces in which dukes and royalties dwelt apart and
discoursed of high matters. She would be one of them.
The other day there seemed to be no reason why she should not marry Mr.
Perry. In marriage then one must only consider the suitability of the
man? There was nothing else to consider----
With a queer, hunted look in her soft eyes she worked on, daubing on
paint liberally.
Meanwhile, in the little salle below, Miss Vance sat stiffly erect,
while the prince talked in his shrill falsetto. Although he set forth
his affection for the engelreine Madchen as simply as the little German
baker in Weir (whom he certainly did resemble) might have done, she
could find, in her agitation, no fitting words in which to answer him.
That she, Clara Vance, should be the arbiter in a princely alliance!
At last she managed to ask whether Miss Dunbar had given him any
encouragement on which to found his claim.
"Ah, Fraulein Vance!" he cried, laughing. "The hare does not call to
the hounds! But I have no fear. She speaks to me in other ways than
by words.
"'Mein Herz und seine Augen
Verstehen sich gar so gut!'
You know the old song. Ah, ja! I understand what she would
say--here!" touching his heart.
He paced up and down, smiling to himself. Suddenly he drew up before
her, tossing his hands out as if to throw away some pleasant dream. "I
have come to you, gracious lady, as I would to the mother of Miss
Dunbar. I show to you the heart! But before I address her it is
necessary that I shall consult her guardian with regard to business."
It was precisely, Clara said afterward, as if the baker from Weir had
stopped singing, and presented his bill.
"Business?" she gasped. "Oh, I see! Settlements. We don't have such
things in the States. But I quite understand all those European social
traits. I have lived abroad for years. I----"
"Who is Miss Dunbar's guardian?" the prince demanded alertly. He sat
down by the table and took out a notebook and papers.
"But--settlements? Is not that a little premature?" she ventured.
"She has not accepted you."
"HE may not accept my financial proposals. It is business, you see.
The gentle ladies, even die Amerikaner, do not comprehend business. It
is not, you perceive, dear lady, the same when the head of the House of
Wolfburgh allies himself with a hochgeboren Fraulein as when the
tailors marry----"
"Nor bakers. I see," stammered Clara.
"Miss Dunbar's properties are valuable. Her estate in Del-aware,"
glancing at his notebook, "is larger than some of our German kingdoms.
Her investments in railway and mining securities, if put on the market,
should be worth a million of florins. These are solid matters, and
must be dealt with carefully."
"But, good gracious, Prince Wolfburgh!" cried Miss Vance, "how did you
find out about Lucy's investments?"
He looked at her in amazement. "Meine gnadigste Fraulein! It is not
possible that you supposed that in such a matter as this men leap into
the dark--the men of rank, princes, counts, English barons, who marry
the American mees? That they do not know for what they exchange
their--all that they give? I will tell you," with a condescending
smile. "There are agents in the States--in New York--in
Chicago--in--how do you name it? St. Sanata. They furnish exact
information as to the dot of the lady who will, perhaps, marry here.
Oh, no! We do not leap into the dark!"
"So I perceive," said Clara dryly. "And may I inquire, your Highness,
what financial arrangement you propose, in case she becomes your wife?"
"Assuredly." He hastily unfolded a large paper. "This must be
accepted by her guardian before the betrothal can take place. I will
translate, in brief. The whole estate passes to me, and is secured to
me in case of my wife's death without issue. I inserted that clause,"
he said, looking up, smiling, for approval, "because American Frauleins
are so fragile--not like our women. I will, of course, if we have
issue, try to preserve the real estate for my heir, and the remaining
property for my other children."
"It seems to me that a good deal is taken for granted there," said
Clara, whose cheeks were very hot. "And where does Miss Dunbar come
into this arrangement? Is she not to have any money at all?"
"My widow, should I die first, will be paid an annuity from my estate.
But while Mees Lucy is my wife, _I_ will buy all that she needs. I
will delight to dress her, to feed her well. With discretion, of
course. For there are many channels into which my income must flow.
But I will not be a niggardly husband to her! No, no!" cried the
little man in a glow.
"That is very kind of you. But she will not have any of her own money
to spend? In her own purse? To fling into the gutter if she chooses?"
The prince laughed gayly. "How American you are, gracious lady! A
German wife does not ask for her 'own purse.' My wife will cease to be
American; she will be German," patting his soft hands ecstatically.
"But you have not told me the name of her guardian?"
"Lucy," said Miss Vance reluctantly, "is of age. She has full control
of her property. A Trust Company manages it for her, but they have no
authority to stop her if she chooses to--throw it into the gutter."
The prince looked up sharply. Could this be a trick? But if it were,
the agent would find out for him. He rose.
"To have the sole disposal of her own hand and of her fortune? That
seems strange to us," he said, smiling. "But I have your consent, most
dear lady, to win both, if I can?"
"Oh, yes, prince. If you can."
He took her hand and bowed profoundly over it, but no courtly grace nor
words could bring back Clara's awe of him. She had a vague impression
that the Weir baker had been wrangling with her about his bill.
"Your Highness has asked a good many questions," she said. "May I put
one to you? Did you inquire concerning Miss Hassard's dot, also?" "Ah,
certainly! Why not? It is very large. I have spoken of it to my
cousin Count Odo. But the drawback--her father still lives. He may
marry again. Her dot depends upon his good pleasure. Whereas Miss
Dunbar is an orphan; and besides that, she is so dear to me!" clasping
his hands, his face red with fervor. "So truly dear!"
And she knew that he honestly meant it.