Prince Hugo had made no secret of his intentions with regard to Miss
Dunbar, so that when it was known that his sisters and the rich
American Mees would at last meet at the Countess von Amte's there was a
flutter of curiosity in the exclusive circle of Munich. The countess
herself called twice on Clara that day, so great was her triumph that
this social event would occur at her house.
She asked boldly "Which of Miss Dunbar's marvellous Parisian
confections will she wear? It is so important for her future happiness
that the princesses should be favorably impressed! Aber, lieber Gott!"
she shrieked, "don't let her speak French! Not a word! That would be
ruin! They are all patriotism!" She hurried away, and ran back to say
that the sun was shining as it had not done for days.
"She thinks nature itself is agog to see how the princesses receive
Lucy," said Miss Vance indignantly. "One would suppose that the child
was on trial."
"So she is. Me, too," said Jean, wistfully regarding the bebe waist of
the gown which Doucet had just sent her. "I must go as an ingenue. I
don't play the part well!"
"No, you do not," said Clara.
Miss Vance tapped at Lucy's door as she went down, and found her
working at her embroidery. "You must lie down for an hour, my dear,"
she said, "and be fresh and rosy for this evening."
"I am not going. I must finish these pinks. I have just sent a note
of apology to the countess."
"Not going!" Clara gasped, dismayed. Then she laughed with triumph.
"The princesses and all the Herrschaft of Munich will be there to pass
judgment on the bride, and the bride will be sitting at home finishing
her pinks! Good!"
"I am no bride!" Lucy rose, stuck her needle carefully in its place,
and came closer to Miss Vance. "I have made up my mind," she said
earnestly. "I shall never marry. My life now is quiet and clean. I'm
not at all sure that it would be either if I were the Princess
Wolfburgh."
Clara stroked her hair fondly. "Your decision is sudden, my dear," she
faltered, at last.
"Yes. There was something last night. It showed me what I was doing.
To marry a man just because he is good and kind, that is--vile!" The
tears rushed to her eyes. There was a short silence.
"Don't look so aghast, dear Miss Vance," said Lucy cheerfully. "Go now
and dress to meet the Herrschaft."
"And what will you do, child?"
"I really must finish these pinks to-night." She took up her work.
Her chin trembled a little. "We won't speak of this again, please,"
she said. "I never shall be a bride or a wife or mother. I will have
a quiet, independent life--like yours."
The sunshine fell on the girl's grave, uplifted face, on the white
walls, the blue stove, and the calm, watching Madonnas. Clara, as Mrs.
Waldeaux had done, thought of a nun in her cell to whom love could only
be a sacred dream.
She smiled back at Lucy, bade her goodnight, and closed the door.
"Like mine?" she said, as she went down the corridor. "Well, it is a
comfortable, quiet life. But empty----" And she laid her hand suddenly
across her thin breast.
Jean listened in silence when Clara told her briefly that Lucy was not
going.
"She is very shrewd," she said presently. "She means to treat them de
haut en bas from the outset. It is capital policy."
Jean, when she entered the countess's salon, with downcast eyes, draped
in filmy lace without a jewel or flower, was shy innocence in person.
Furst Hugo stood near the hostess, with two stout women in shabby gowns
and magnificent jewels.
"The frocks they made themselves, and the emeralds are heirlooms," Jean
muttered to Clara, without lifting her timid eyes.
"Miss Dunbar is not coming?" exclaimed the prince.
"No," said Miss Vance.
"The Fraulein is ill?" demanded one of his sisters.
"No," Clara said, again smiling. "WE expected to meet her," the
younger princess said. "It is most singular----"
"She has sent her apology to the countess," said Clara gently, and
passed on.
But her little triumph was short lived.
A famous professional soprano appeared in a white-ribboned enclosure at
the end of the salon, and the guests were rapidly arranged according to
their rank to listen. Clara and Jean stood until every man and woman
were comfortably seated, when they were placed in the back row.
When the music was over supper was announced, and the same ceremony was
observed. The Highnessess, the hochwohlgeboren privy councillors, the
hochgeboren secretaries, even the untitled Herren who held some petty
office, were ushered with profound deference to their seats at the long
table, while Clara stood waiting. Jean's eyes still drooped meekly,
but even her lips were pale.
"How can you look so placid?" she whispered. "It is a deliberate
insult to your gray hairs."
"No. It is the custom of the country. It does not hurt me."
They were led at the moment to the lowest seats. Jean shot one
vindictive glance around the table.
"You have more wit and breeding than any of them!" she said. "And as
for me, this lace I wear would buy any of their rickety old palaces."
"They have something which we cannot buy," said Miss Vance gravely. "I
never understood before how actual a thing rank is here."
"Cannot it be bought? I am going to look into that when this huge feed
is over," Miss Hassard said to herself.
Late in the evening she danced with Count Odo, and prattled to him in a
childish, frank fashion which he found very charming.
"Your rules of precedence are very disagreeable!" she pouted.
"Especially when one sits at the foot of the table and is served last."
"They must seem queer to you," he said, laughing, "but they are
inflexible as iron."
"But they will bend for Miss Dunbar, if she makes up her mind to marry
your cousin?" she asked, looking up into his face like an innocent
child.
"No. Hugo makes a serious sacrifice in marrying a woman of no birth,"
he said. "He must give up his place and title as head of the family.
She will not be received at court nor in certain houses; she must
always remain outside of much of his social life."
He led her back to Miss Vance. She seemed to be struck dumb, and even
forgot to smile when he bowed low and thanked her for the dance.
"Let us go home," she whispered to Clara. "The American girl is a fool
who marries one of these men!"
When Miss Vance's carriage reached her hotel, she found Prince Hugo's
coupe before the door.
"He has come to see Lucy, alone!" she said indignantly, as she hurried
up the steps. "He has no right to annoy her!"
She met him coming out of the long salle. The little man walked
nervously, fingering his sword hilt. He could not control his voice
when he tried to speak naturally.
"Yes, gracious lady, I am guilty. It was unpardonable to come when I
knew the chaperone was gone. But--ach! I could not wait!" throwing
out both hands to her. "I have waited so long! I knew when she did
not come to meet my sisters to-night she had resolved against me, but I
could not sleep uncertain. So I break all the laws, and come!"
"You have seen her, then? She has told you?"
He nodded without speaking. His round face was red, and something like
tears stood in his eyes.
He waited irresolute a moment, and then threw up his head.
"Soh! It is over! I shall not whine! You have been very good to me,"
he said earnestly, taking Clara's hand. "This is the first great
trouble in my life. I have loved her very dearly. I decided to make
great sacrifices for her. But I am not to have her--never."
"I am so sorry for you, prince." Clara squeezed his hand energetically.
"Nor her dot. That would have been so comfortable for me," he said
simply.
Clara hid a smile, and bade him an affectionate good-night.
As he passed into the outer salle a childish figure in creamy lace rose
before him, and a soft hand was held out. "I know what has happened!"
she whispered passionately. "She has treated you scandalously! She
cannot appreciate YOU!"
Prince Hugo stuttered and coughed and almost kissed the little hand
which lay so trustingly in his. He found himself safely outside at
last, and drove away, wretched to the soul.
But below his wretchedness something whispered: "SHE appreciates me,
and her dot is quite as large."