Mrs. Fitz Part 31

It was delicate ground upon which to tread. But the fascination of such an inquiry lured me on where doubtless the canons of good taste would have had me stay.

"Would you not say, ma'am, your Republican Party was a menace to the state?"

"They don't know what is good, poor souls." Her voice was gentle.

"They will have to learn."

"Will the King be the means of teaching them?"

"_Helas!_ he is too old. It must be left to fate. Poor souls, poor souls!"

During the sojourn of her Royal Highness at Dympsfield House, we saw a good deal of the Chief Constable of our county. In a sense he had made himself responsible for the safety of us all. His vigilance was great, and its un.o.btrusiveness was part of the man. No precaution was neglected which could minister to our security; and he gave his personal attention to matters of detail which less thorough-going individuals might have considered to be beneath their notice.

He was particularly insistent that the Princess should give up her hunting, and that she should confine the scope of her activities, as far as possible, to the grounds of the house. To this she was not in the least amenable. An out-and-out believer in fate, and a subscriber to the doctrine of what has to be will be, the bullets of the anarchist had no terrors for her. To Coverdale's annoyance, she continued to hunt in spite of his solemn and repeated warnings. And when he was moved to remonstrate with Fitz upon the subject, he met with the reply, "She pleases herself entirely."

"But, my dear fellow," said the Chief Constable, "surely you must know that she is exposing herself to grave risks."

"If a thing seems good to her she does it," was Fitz's unprofitable rejoinder.

The great man was frankly annoyed.

"That is very wrong, to my mind," he said with some heat. "It is unfair to those who have made themselves responsible for her safety."

"It is a question of free-will," said Fitz, "and she knows far more about that than most people. And when it comes to a matter of choosing right, she has a special faculty."

So inconclusive a reply merely ministered to the wrath of the Chief Constable, who in private complained to me bitterly.

"I wish to heaven they would quit the country," he said. "They are a source of endless worry and expense. We do all we can to help them, and I must say the Yard is wonderful, yet they can't be induced to take the most elementary precautions. I regret now, Arbuthnot, that I urged you to shelter them. I had hoped they were rational and sensible people, but I now find they are not."

"You think, Coverdale, the danger is as real as ever?"

"Frankly I do. Ferdinand the Twelfth has played it up so high in Illyria that the Republicans are determined to make an end of the monarchy."

"But didn't she renounce her right to the throne when she married Fitz?"

"In effect she may have done so, but the Illyrian law of succession will not contemplate such an act. Ferdinand makes no secret of the fact, apparently, that he will compel her to marry the Archduke Joseph, and that she must succeed to the throne."

"How is it possible for him to give effect to his will?"

"He is a strong man, and if he sets his mind upon a particular course of action few have been able to deny him."

"Then you think her marriage with Fitz is merely an episode in what is likely to be a brilliant but stormy career?"

"Always provided it is not cut short by one of those bullets it is our duty to antic.i.p.ate. I can only tell you that the Foreign Office is now very anxious to get her out of the country, and that if they dared they would deport her."

"Ho, ho!"

An academic admirer of our const.i.tutional practice, I was fain to indulge in a whistle.

"And, strictly between ourselves," said the Chief Constable, "if only the right government were in, deported she would be."

"A fine proceeding, I am bound to say, for a country with our pretensions to liberalism!"

"Under the rose, of course." The Chief Constable permitted himself a dour smile. "I daresay it would make a precedent, and yet one is not so sure about that. But one thing I am sure about, and that is that some of us are devilish unpopular in high places. They would not be averse from making things rather warm for certain individuals who shall be nameless. They are pretty well agreed that we ought to have kept our fingers out of the pie. As old L. said to me yesterday, she has got to leave the country, and the sooner she goes the better it will be for all concerned."

All this tended to bring no comfort to the married man, the father of the family, and the county member. If anything, it deepened his anxiety.

It is only just to state, however, that this feeling was not shared by Mrs. Arbuthnot. To be sure, she was not acquainted with all that happened. But as far as she was concerned the element of danger in the case was an essential and rather delightful concomitant to its romance.

The Vane-Anstruther hyper-sensitiveness to that mysterious ideal "good form" rendered it necessary that Mrs. Arbuthnot should perform a volte-face. This she proceeded to do with really amazing completeness and efficiency. No sooner was the true ident.i.ty of our visitor established, than, as far as the ruler of Dympsfield House was concerned, there was an end of the circus rider from Vienna and all her works. The ingrained Vane-Anstruther reverence for royalty, due I have ever been led to believe to an uncle who held a Household appointment, received full play. The lightest whim of the Princess--except before the servants it was ever the Princess--was law.

Mrs. Arbuthnot did not go without a reward. Such an incursion did she make upon the royal regard that in a surprisingly short time she was addressed as Irene, and about the end of the first week of the visit the intelligence was confided to me that the Princess had asked to be called Sonia. Without a doubt we were living in a crowded and glorious epoch. And I do not think its glamour was in any degree impaired by the strictures of the world.

It is not too much to say that the Crackanthorpe ladies were scandalised by the open and flagrant treason of Mrs. Arbuthnot. She had taken the queen of the sawdust into the bosom of her family.

Together they hunted the fox; together they overrode the Crackanthorpe Hounds. Loud and bitter were the lamentations of Mrs. Catesby. The whole county shook its head.

Mrs. Arbuthnot wore the crown of martyrdom with extraordinary grace and nerve. Her conduct in public was marked by a cynical impropriety, a flagrant audacity at which the world rubbed its eyes and wondered.

"I really believe," said Mrs. Catesby one day as together we made our way home through the January twilight, "that if Irene belonged to me I should chastise her. Can you be unaware that she allows the creature to call her by her first name? And Laura Glendinning a.s.sures me that with her own ears she heard her address her as Matilda, or whatever the name is she received in baptism."

"Yes, it's a desperate situation," I agreed, with a sigh which had perhaps a greater sincerity than it was allowed the credit.

"I hold you entirely responsible," said the Great Lady. "And so does everybody who knows the true facts of the case. That deplorable evening at the Savoy--and now you actually find her house-room in order that she may demoralise your wife! What a merciful thing it is that your dear, good, devoted mother, the most refined of women, is no longer with us! By the way, Odo, I suppose you have heard that there is some talk of asking you to resign your seat?"

"That is news to me, my dear Mary, I a.s.sure you."

"The Vicar thinks you ought. He seems to think that if you have any Christian feeling about things you will do so on your own initiative."

"It is so like the Church of England not to realise that by the time a man reaches the age of forty he has gone over to Buddha."

"I don't know in the least what you mean, but I hope it is nothing improper. But I can a.s.sure you that the Vicar's opinion is shared by others. The Castle is dreadfully wounded. Poor dear Evelyn will never forgive it--never! No more fis.h.i.+ng in Scotland and no more shooting.

At any rate, it will be a mere waste of time and money for you to stand again."

It only remained for me to agree very cordially with Mrs. Catesby, and to confess to surprise that my const.i.tuents had not made the discovery sooner.

"But," said I, cheerfully, "here we are at that fine example of late Jacobean art known as Dympsfield House. I would that I could prevail upon you, Mary, to honour our guest by drinking a cup of tea in her presence. It would be a graceful act which I am sure we should all appreciate."

"I have a conscience, Odo Arbuthnot," said the Great Lady, with a severity of mien that rendered the announcement superfluous. "Also I have some kind of a standard of morals, manners and general conduct which I strive to live up to."

At the gate I said _au revoir_ to the outraged matron. Having disposed of my horse, I made my way indoors. The ladies had come home in the car and were at the tea-table already. Among a number of other weaknesses which go with a strong infusion of the feminine temperament, I confess to a decided partiality for the cup which cheers yet does not inebriate.

Mrs. Arbuthnot was pouring out the tea and her Royal Highness was standing in front of the fire. She was reading a letter, and to judge by her brilliantly expressive countenance, its contents were affording a good deal of exercise for her emotions.

"I wish, Sonia, I could convert you to cream and sugar," said Mrs.

Arbuthnot, declining to entrust the cup to my care, but rising importantly and personally handing it to the occupant of the hearthrug.

"Oh, no, t'ank you. Lemon _a la Russe_. What a people to take cream and sugar in their tea!"

She enforced her idea of the absurdity by giving Mrs. Arbuthnot a playfully affectionate pinch of the ear.