The Princess Virginia Part 13

"I wonder why you kept the ring after my--impertinence."

"I had a good reason for keeping it."

"Won't you tell me?"

"You're quick at forming conclusions, Miss Mowbray. Can't you guess?"

"To remind you to beware of strange young women on mountains."

"No."

"Because your own picture is inside?"

"It was a better reason than that."

"Am I not to ask it?"

"On that day, you asked what you chose. All the more should you do so now, since there's nothing I could refuse you."

"Not the half of your Kingdom--like the Royal men in fairy stories?"

As soon as the words were out Virginia would have given much to have them back. She had not thought of a meaning they might convey; but she tried not to blush, lest he should think of it now. Nevertheless he did think of it, and the light words, striking a chord they had not aimed to touch, went echoing on and on, till they reached that part of himself which the Emperor knew least about--his heart.

"Half his Kingdom?" Yes, he would give it to this girl, if he could.

Heavens, what it would be to share it with her!

"Ask anything you will," he said, as a man speaks in a dream.

"Then tell me--why you kept the ring."

"Because the only woman I ever cared--to make my friend, took it from her finger and gave it to me."

"Now the Emperor is pleased to pay compliments."

"You know I am sincere."

"But you'd seen me only for an hour. Instead of deserving your friends.h.i.+p, I'm afraid I--"

"For one hour? That's true. And how long ago is that one hour? A week or so, I suppose, as Time counts. But then came yesterday, and the thing you did for me. Now, I've known you always."

"If you had, perhaps you wouldn't want me for your friend."

"I do want you."

The words would come. It was true--already. He did want her. But not as a friend. His world,--a world without women, without pa.s.sion fiery enough to devour principles or traditions, was upside down.

It was well that the ten minutes' grace between dances was over, and the music for the next about to begin. A young officer, Count von Breitstein's half-brother--who was to be Miss Mowbray's partner--appeared in the distance, looking for her; but stopped, seeing that she was still with the Emperor.

"Good-by," said Virginia, while her words could still be only for the ears of Leopold.

"Not good-by. We're friends."

"Yes. But we sha'n't meet often."

"Why? Are you leaving Kronburg?"

"Perhaps--soon. I don't know."

"I must see you again. I will see you once more, whatever comes."

"Once more, perhaps. I hope so, but--"

"After that--"

"Who knows?"

"Once more--once more!" The words echoed in Virginia's ears. She heard them through everything, as one hears the undertone of a mountain torrent, though a bra.s.s band may bray to drown its deep music.

Once more he would see her, whatever might come. She could guess why it might be only once, though he would fain have that once again and again repeated. For this game of hers, begun with such a light heart, was more difficult to play than she had dreamed.

If she could but be sure he cared; if he would tell her so, in words, and not with eyes alone, the rest might be easy, although at best she could not see the end. Yet how, in honor, could he tell Miss Helen Mowbray that he cared? And if the telling were not to be in honor, how could she bear to live her life?

"Once more!" What would happen in that "once more?" Perhaps nothing save a repet.i.tion of grateful thanks, and courteous words akin to a farewell.

To be sure Lady Mowbray and her daughter might run away, and the negotiations between the Emperor's advisers and the Grand d.u.c.h.ess of Baumenburg-Drippe for the Princess Virginia's hand might be allowed to go on, as if no outside influence had ruffled the peaceful current of events. Then, in the end, a surprise would come for Leopold; wilful Virginia would have played her little comedy, and all might be said to end well. But Virginia's heart refused to be satisfied with so tame a last chapter, a finish to her romance so conventional as to be distastefully obvious, almost if not quite a failure.

She had begun to drink a sweet and stimulating draught--she who had been brought up on milk and water--and she was reluctant to put down the cup, still half full of sparkling nectar.

"Once more!" If only that once could be magnified into many times. If she could have her chance--her "fling," like the lucky girls who were not Royal!

So she was thinking in the carriage by her mother's side, and the Grand d.u.c.h.ess had to speak twice, before her daughter knew their silence had been broken.

"I forgot to tell you something, Virginia."

"Ye-es, Mother?"

"Your great success has made me absent-minded, child. You looked like a s.h.i.+ning white lily among all those handsome, overblown Rhaetian women."

"Thank you, dear. Was that what you forgot to say?"

"Oh no! It was this. The Baroness von Lyndal has been most kind. She urges us to give up our rooms at the hotel, on the first of next week, and join her house party at Schloss Lyndalberg. It's only a few miles out of town. What do you think of the plan?"

"Leave--Kronburg?"

"She's asked a number of friends--to meet the Emperor."

"Oh! He didn't speak of it--when we danced."