"Then listen. I am a Prince without a princ.i.p.ality; a Prince by courtesy, my brother ruling the princ.i.p.ality of Wortumborg. Thus being without a princ.i.p.ality, I am necessarily without revenues. I must replenish my very low exchequer by a marriage, a marriage not so distasteful as it might be." He met my darkening eyes with serenity.
"Since Thursday night I have not been so certain of my wife"s dowry.
If there are two Princesses, twins, they must govern jointly, or one may abdicate in favor of the other. Her Serene Highness the Princess Hildegarde is the one who will be most likely to relinquish her claims to Hohenphalia. If your friend is proved to be her sister--" He stroked the orchid reflectively.
"Well?" I cried, my pulse quickening.
"I shall withdraw my claim to the hand of the Princess Hildegarde. I do not care to rule half a princ.i.p.ality or share half its revenues.
There are better things left than that. It is my hope, however, that no proofs can be found, and that your banker-diplomatist will show conclusively that his niece was born in America. Until this question is definitely settled, my fortunes shall not undergo any risks. This is what I wanted to say to you, why I wanted to know who your friend was. Will you help me to get at the bottom of things? We are both concerned; the result will mean all or nothing to you and me. Ah, believe me, but you are a favored mortal. The friendship of the one, and the love of the other! No; do not look angry. With all my sins, it cannot be said that I lack frankness and truthfulness. You love the Princess Hildegarde; I offer you an equal chance to win her. Is not that remarkable good nature? Till the affair is settled my marriage is postponed. Now, to our personal affair. You cannot blame me if I give you all my honest hatred. I am at your service, after, of course, the respective positions of the Princesses are a.s.sured. I should take more pleasure in shooting you, or running a sword through your body, than I took in the affair with your friend. His courage was truly admirable.
I had nothing against him. But you have grievously wounded my self-love; we forgive all wrongs but that. I warn you that the affair will not be conducted after the French mode. You have perhaps a fortnight in which to improve your markmanship. The matter which shall carry us abroad will conclude within that time. I shoot and fence with my left hand as well as I did with my right."
"I shall be only too happy to meet you," I replied. "I prefer the pistol, there is less exertion, and it is quicker."
"You shall have every advantage," said the Prince. "You will have that to nerve your arm which I shall not have--a woman"s love." With a bow which was not without a certain dignity and grace, he walked from the room.
Phyllis a Princess? Gretchen free? I sent for my coat and hat and went out. I forgot all about my appointment with Col. J---- of the Queen"s light and that I had left Pembroke playing billiards in a strange club, where I myself had been but a guest. The crisp October air blew in my face as I rapidly walked up the mall, and it cooled the fever in my veins. But my mind ran on rather wildly. Gretchen free?
Phyllis a Princess? Gretchen"s little word, "perhaps," came back and sang into my ears. Yet, win or lose, I was to meet the Prince in mortal combat. If Phyllis was not proven Gretchen"s twin sister, I should care but little for the Prince"s bullet. On the other hand--Well, I should trust to luck. Before I was aware of my destination, I stood fumbling the key in the door of my apartment. I wanted my pipe. At eleven by the clock, Pembroke came in.
"Hang your apologies!" he said.
CHAPTER XVIII
"Phyllis," said I, "do you remember the day we first met?"
We were in the morning room of the Wentworth mansion at B----.
Phyllis, Pembroke and I sat before the warm grate, while Mrs. Wentworth and Ethel stood by one of the windows, comparing some shades of ribbon.
My presence at B---- was due to a wire I had sent to New York, which informed headquarters that I was on the track of a great sensation.
The return wire had said, "Keep on it."
"When first we met?" echoed Phyllis. "Why, it was at Block Island."
"Oh," said I, "I do not refer to the time when you had shouldered the responsibilities of a society bud. I mean the time when the introduction was most informal. You were at the time selling lemonade without license and with very little lemon."
"Selling lemonade?" cried Pembroke.
"Never mind him, Mr. Pembroke," laughed Phyllis.
"It was a long time ago," I went on. "I was a new reporter. Mr.
Wentworth had to be interviewed. It was one of those hot days in May.
The servant at the door said that Mr. Wentworth was in the back yard--he called it the garden--where I soon found myself. You had a small table, a gla.s.s and a pitcher. I suppose every time your uncle got thirsty you sold him a gla.s.s. You wore short dresses--"
"Terrible!" cried Phyllis, shielding her face with the hand-screen.
"And looked as cool as the ice in the pitcher, and as fresh as the flowers which lined the walls. I thought that if I bought a gla.s.s of you I might make my approach to your uncle an easier task. So I looked at you and smiled, and you giggled."
"Giggled!" cried Phyllis, indignantly.
Pembroke was laughing.
"Yes, actually giggled," I went on. "I laid down a twenty-five-cent piece, and you poured but some water which had had nothing more than a mild flirtation with a lemon, and I gulped it down. I held out my hand, and you said that there wasn"t any change. I smiled a false smile. Let me make a confession."
"Well?" mockingly from Phyllis.
"It was my last quarter. It was very pathetic. I had to walk four miles down town. I did not know your uncle well enough or I should have borrowed carfare from him."
"And I took your last penny?" said Phyllis, gently. "Why did you not tell me then?"
"I was twenty-two and proud," said I. "Where are you going?" for she had risen.
"I"ll be back in a moment," she said, as she left the room. When she returned she put out her hand. On the palm lay two bright American dimes.
"What"s this?" I asked.
"The change."
"Very good!" laughed Pembroke.
I said nothing, but took out my wallet. In opening it to put in the dimes, something fell to the floor. It was Gretchen"s rose.
"What is that?" asked Phyllis, as I stooped to pick it up.
"It is the end of a story," I answered. I busied myself with the fire till the poker grew too hot.
"How many romances commonplace wallets contain?" said Pembroke, sententiously.
"I have two in mine," said I.
Pembroke looked at Phyllis, but the fire seemed to be claiming her attention. Then he looked at me, but I was gazing at Phyllis. He was in a puzzle.
"Do you know, Miss Landors," he said, "that I never dreamed to meet you again when I saw you in Vienna last year?"
"Vienna?" said she. "I have never been to Vienna."
I suddenly brought down my heel on Pembroke"s toes.
"Ah, a curious mistake on my part. I suppose the ball at the ministry to-night will be your first on the continent?"
I gazed admiringly at him. He had not even looked at me. He was certainly clever.
"Yes," said Phyllis, "and already I believe I am going to have what they call stage fright, though I cannot understand why I should feel that way."
"Possibly it"s a premonition," said I, absently.
"And of what?" asked Phyllis.
"How should I know?" said I, mysteriously.
"What in the world is going on?" she demanded. "You step on Mr.