Affairs of State Part 27

"The peace of Europe!" she murmured.

"The peace of Europe! I wonder if he was merely trying to frighten me?"

And she s.h.i.+vered a little at the remembrance of Lord Vernon's words, as she arose to go to bed.

CHAPTER XVI

A Prince and His Ideals

By what process of telepathy the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Markheim, dwelling in one corner of that gloomy old fortress which had sheltered so many generations of the family, learned of the danger threatening her nephew it would be impossible to say. She had been skilled for many years in telling which way the wind was blowing; nay, more, in foreseeing from which quarter it would presently blow; so perhaps the two or three casual references to the American girls which she had gleaned from the letters which the Prince dutifully wrote her had been enough to awaken her suspicions. Or, it may be, that some one of the many persons at Weet-sur-Mer who had observed with interest the Prince's comings and goings, deemed it a duty to society to send the d.u.c.h.ess a discreet word of warning.

Any one who knew the d.u.c.h.ess knew also that a single word would be all-sufficient. Her reputation for worldly astuteness surpa.s.sed that of any other old woman in Europe, though it was, perhaps, not altogether deserved. Forty years before, she had been a healthy and happy girl, whose experience of the world had been confined to the family estate near Gemunden. And the estate was a small one, for the family, though of blood the bluest, was very poor.

One tragedy had marked her early girlhood. She was curled up, one evening, in the window-seat at the stairhead watching the moon rise over the great trees of the park, when she heard loud voices in the hall below, and peeping down, saw her father strike another man heavily across the mouth. A sudden silence fell, and she stole away frightened to her bed, where she sobbed herself to sleep. In the gray of the morning, her mother had awakened her, had carried her to a window, and knelt with her there, staring out toward the park and calling upon G.o.d to have mercy. Through the streaming mist, there came presently toward them two dim figures, carrying a third--what need to go on? After that, the house became a cloister.

It chanced, one day when she was nearly twenty, that the eye of her cousin of Markheim fell upon her. He had never married; he had been too busy with his pleasures. But he had arrived at an age when it was necessary to think of an heir; at an age, too, when the uneasy consciousness began to grow within him that if he desired an heir, there was no time to be lost. So he looked at his blooming cousin, noting the evidences of vigorous health which glowed in eye and lip and cheek. He knew that the girl would have no dot, but he had reached a place where he was perfectly aware that if he wanted youth and beauty, he must take them unadorned. So he made up his mind at once, and in due time the marriage was arranged.

In pity, we will not dwell upon it. Those who saw the bride's face as she entered the carriage with her husband will never forget its expression of horror, disgust, and abject fear. A year later, the desired heir arrived, a microcephalous idiot, to whom a merciful providence allowed but eighteen months of life; and in due time, the August Prince himself was gathered to his fathers.

During her period of martyrdom, the d.u.c.h.ess had pressed her cross to her bosom with the religious enthusiasm of a devotee hugging his barbed instrument of torture. The consciousness that she was suffering for her family's sake as became a daughter of the Caesars was the only thing which enabled her to endure her shame and degradation. She donned her widow's weeds with such depth of thankfulness as few mortals know, and settled herself to the enjoyment of her position.

She found it on the whole a good position, una.s.sailable, with many desirable perquisites. She decided, no doubt, that life owed her such tremendous arrears of happiness that she could never hope to collect them except by devoting her whole time to it; and devote her whole time to it she did, in good earnest. The years, in their pa.s.sage, erased certain lines from her face and restored the curves to her figure--indeed, it came to be much more than a restoration!--but they could not restore the colour to her hair nor the lightness to her heart.

She looked at mankind from a cynical alt.i.tude of worldly wisdom; her wit grew keen and swift as d'Artagnan's rapier; her bon-mots had a way of pa.s.sing into proverbs, or of being stolen by more distinguished contemporaries. She took her revenge upon society as completely as she could, yet without bitterness. Indeed, it is probable that, could she have ordered her life anew, she would not have ordered it differently.

Such, then, was the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Markheim, as she sat gazing thoughtfully from her window, pondering the situation. She was fully alive to the fact that American girls are always a menace to the peace of n.o.ble families; besides, she was not at all satisfied with the progress--or, rather, lack of progress--which the Prince had made in the delicate negotiation entrusted to his hands. In a word, she decided that, from every point of view, it were wise for her to be herself upon the scene--and so much nearer her beloved Ostend! Therefore, being of that superior order of woman who never has to make up her mind but once, she forthwith gave orders for the departure.

It consequently happened, on the morning following the events narrated in the previous chapter, that there was another distinguished arrival at the Grand Hotel Royal, to the delight and despair of Monsieur Pelletan.

"I shall need an apartment of at least five rooms, not higher than the second floor," announced the d.u.c.h.ess.

"If Madame la d.u.c.h.esse had only notified us of t'is honour!" protested Pelletan, with upraised hands. "I swear t'at I haff not'ing-- not'ing--not one single apartment wort'y off madame--not efen one leetle room up under t'e gutters."

"Nonsense!" she interrupted, vigorously. "I have heard all that a hundred times at least. Which apartment has my nephew?"

"Madame's nephew?"

"Certainly, imbecile! Monsieur le Prince de Markeld."

"Oh," cried Pelletan. "Monsieur le Prince ha.s.s apartment B de luxe."

"And so has twice as much room as he needs, of course. Well, take my luggage up there, wherever it is. At my age, one is beyond the reach of scandal, even at a Dutch bathing-resort. Where is Monsieur le Prince?"

"Monsieur le Prince iss taking t'e promenade," explained Pelletan.

"Very well; I have my toilette to make. When he returns, send him up to me at once. Here, boy, apartment B," and followed by her maid, she started up the stair, leaving Monsieur Pelletan staring, open-mouthed.

"But t'ere iss a lift, madame!" he cried, regaining his breath.

"A lift!" retorted the d.u.c.h.ess. "At my age! What is the man thinking of!

En avant, boy!" and she went on up the stair.

The watches of the night had not brought that final solution of the problem which Susie Rushford had hoped for, and she did not know whether to be glad or sorry when she found the Prince at the stairfoot awaiting her. There could be no doubt that he was wholly, undividedly glad--one glance at his face told her that--and he greeted her in a way that sent a little thrill to her heart. After all, she told herself, perhaps she would better let things drift; one more day could make no difference.

And there was no reason why she should take the affair more seriously than did the princ.i.p.al person concerned in it.

Outside the door, as usual, was the invalid chair; and while Lord Vernon did not forget to say good-morning, it was not upon her his eyes rested.

Nell, at least, was perplexed by no problems, and was unaffectedly gay.

Susie almost envied her; and yet problems were interesting, too.

And then there was Collins. As she acknowledged his bow, she was struck anew with the concentrated secretiveness of his appearance. There was a new look in his eyes this morning, a look as though he were watching her, and it made her vaguely uneasy. But the feeling pa.s.sed as they turned eastward along the promenade, and she soon forgot all about him, for--quite exceptionally--her companion was talking of himself.

"I do not want that you should exaggerate the importance of this little dispute," he was saying. "Seen thus close at hand, it looms rather large; but it really matters very little to the great world. Even I can get far enough away from it to see that."

"And yet," rejoined Susie, "I have heard it said that it might possibly endanger the peace of Europe."

The Prince smiled at the words as at an old acquaintance.

"The peace of Europe," he said, "is a kind of bugaboo which diplomats use to frighten each other with, and even to frighten themselves with. I do not believe that the peace of Europe hangs on any such delicate balance as they pretend. Though, of course," he added, more gravely, "there are certain circ.u.mstances under which this question of the succession might become very unpleasant to the Powers."

"Ah!" breathed Susie, who had been listening eagerly. "You admit that, then?"

"Admit it? Certainly--why not? But, intrinsically, it amounts to little.

So it is with us Markelds--our lineage is as long as that of any house in Europe, and we hold our heads very high, but we are really of not much importance. We keep up a certain state, we live in a castle, if you will; but we really do nothing worth while, princ.i.p.ally, I suppose, because we are so poor."

"So poor?" echoed Susie, open-eyed.

"You are thinking of the apartment de luxe," said the Prince, with a smile; "of the special train. But, do you not see, those are the very things which make me poor. I have no use for seven rooms; in the special train, I can occupy but a single seat. All the rest is waste, which does me no good--rather the reverse, indeed, since it serves to impress people with an exaggerated idea of my importance and so pave the way for fresh extravagances. I did not mean that I am poor absolutely; I do not suppose that I shall ever want for food and clothing and a place to sleep. It is only as a Prince that I am poor--that we Markelds are all poor."

"But one would think there were many things worth while which a man in your position could do," said Susie, earnestly, "even if you aren't rich."

"Oh," he explained, looking down at her with a laugh in his eyes, "I would not have you think that I am always wholly idle. I am colonel of a dragoon regiment, and I inspect it, sometimes, or ride in front of it at a general review. I hunt. I attend various functions of the court. I even sometimes act as the representative of my house, as I am doing now."

"None of which," said Susie, "except perhaps the last, is in the least worth while."

"I agree with you, unreservedly," he a.s.sented; "but it is about what most men in my position do."

"So I have heard," said Sue, "but I never really believed it. I thought it an invention of the society reporters."

"It is true, nevertheless. You see there is no incentive, for most of us, to do anything else. Of course, we cannot work, nor engage in trade."

"I don't admit the 'of course.' But leaving that aside for the moment, aren't there any exceptions?"

"Yes--a few at whom the rest of us look rather askance. You see, there is the tradition to be maintained."