King John of Jingalo Part 30

"Oh, can't you see? Supposing he comes and does look at me; and then goes away without--without caring!--That's what you are asking me to put up with. For me to know, and for him to know, and for him to know that I know! How would you like it yourself?"

"I tell her she is very ridiculous," said the Queen. "A Princess can't marry a mushroom. Does she want to fall in love with her eyes shut.

Something has to be done beforehand, or we should never be anywhere----"

"I don't want to be anywhere," said the Princess.

"Outside a lunatic asylum," said her mother, completing the sentence.

"My dear child," put in the King, "don't you see that nothing is really settled--and will not be until you agree to it?"

"Then why did you ever tell him anything about it? Why couldn't we have just met? It's this picking of us out beforehand behind our backs, and then telling us of it; that's what I can't stand!"

"My dear, n.o.body is forcing you," repeated the King persuasively.

"Then I won't see him."

"I tell her she must," remarked the Queen in a tone of comfortable finality.

"Mamma, will you stop knitting!" cried Charlotte. "You treat me as if I were an insect!"

"You have got the brains of one," retorted her mother. "John, will you please speak to her? Perhaps you can understand what it all means; I can't. She has been talking Greek to me--something or other about the Trojans."

"Yes; the Trojan women," corrected Charlotte.

"She says she's like one of them!"

"So I am."

"I don't know which one, you mentioned so many."

"All of them. Yes, papa, they had to go and live with foreigners--men they had never seen."

"Don't say 'live with'; it's an objectionable term."

"Die with them, then: some did! One of them killed a king in his bath; at least his wife did, but it's all the same."

"Yes; she began quoting some verses to me about that bath affair," said the Queen. "And I must say they didn't sound to me quite decent."

Charlotte was quite ready to repeat it.

"Oh, don't quote poetry to me!" begged the King. "I don't understand it."

"And I try not to," said the Queen. So Charlotte's quotation was ruled out of the discussion.

"Don't you think, my dear," persuaded her father, "that meeting him here, as it just so happens, will seem sufficiently accidental?"

"Not after we've waited for him all this time; not after I climbed up that spire and threw my cap at him without knowing it," said the Princess. "Oh, you don't know what that paper has been saying!" And she pointed to the bits.

The King stooped and began gathering them up.

"It's all nonsense, John," said the Queen. "Don't indulge her by paying any attention."

And at that renewed proof of her mother's imperviousness of mind Princess Charlotte ran out of the room.

"Leave her alone!" remarked the Queen, sure of her own sagacity, "she'll calm down. My belief is that she really likes him. _I_ saw her looking at his photograph; it wasn't only once, either."

IV

Three days later the King and Queen of Jingalo were at home by special appointment to receive a call of ceremony. The streets of Bad-as-Bad were hung with flags--here and there of the two nationalities, side by side, their corners (delicate symbol!) tied together by a knot of white ribbon.

Grooms of the Chamber had donned full Court dress for the occasion, and a complete staff of servants, equerries, attaches, and ministers in attendance lined the route from the portico of the converted hotel which served as the King's villa to the large private apartment where the actual meeting took place.

"His Royal Highness, Grand Duke and Hereditary Prince of Schnapps-Wa.s.ser," p.r.o.nounced the Master of Ceremonies in that awestruck tone which is exclusively reserved for the introduction of crowned heads or territorial princes; and a youthful giant, six feet four in height, entered the room, struck his heels together with military precision, and bowed low.

He wore his own clothes--one of his own uniforms, that is to say--and the King of Jingalo wore one of his, for they had not hitherto exchanged regiments in token of peace and amity--a matter to be put right on a future occasion.

The Prince wore sky-blue trimmed with sable, and brightened with silver facings; tunic and trousers of an extremely tight fit set off a muscular frame. From his shoulders, presumably in case of accident, hung an extra tunic; but the other extra did not show. Boots reaching to the thighs and a head-dress of almost equal height borne upon the arm, completed the splendor of his array. Bowing his way in, he had so martial an air that the Queen's heart was quite won by it, and she regretted that Charlotte, belated in her attendance, had not been there to see.

The Prince uttered with correctness, though in a rather heavy German accent, the formula of royal greeting; and throughout the interview continued to speak in Jingalese. As soon as the doors were closed--leaving only royalty, he dropped into homelier speech. "I hope the cure has done you no harm," he said, "that it has not too greatly diverted your digestion; some people are much upset by it."

The King and Queen hastened to rea.s.sure him. Bad-as-Bad, its air, its waters, and its society had treated them in the handsomest way possible. "We are quite sorry," said the Queen, "that so soon we shall have to leave."

The Prince glanced round before asking abruptly: "And the Princess--she is still here?"

"She will be here presently," answered the Queen, "I am expecting her any moment. She goes on long walks," she added, by way of explanation.

"Ah, good!" commented the Prince.

Many minutes went by, conversation alternately flowed and halted. They were all conscious of an impediment, for still the Princess did not appear; and at last her Majesty was impelled to send one of her ladies to make inquiry. "She takes such very long walks," explained the Queen once more.

"Ah, good, very good indeed," remarked the Prince in a spirit of acceptance.

And then, after a little more waiting, the lady came back to say that the Princess could not be found; she and one of her ladies had gone out together.

"How very forgetful of her!" exclaimed the Queen.

Just then, very discreetly, but with a look full of meaning, a private secretary came and put a telegram into the King's hand. Excusing himself to the Prince he opened it; it was postmarked from the station office at Schnapps, and it read thus--

"I have gone home. Charlotte."

It was no use; the surprise of it was too much for him. "She has run off!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed; the compromising phrase had slipped out before he was aware.

"Who?" cried his wife, though knowing quite well.

"Charlotte; she has gone home."

Husband and wife stared at each other mute and amazed; while the Prince sat trying with amiable look to excuse himself for being there.