"Very well, if you think you must." Angelo spoke with gloomy resignation.
"Dear Mary, you write," said Marie lazily. "You"ve got paper and a stylo, and she doesn"t know my hand. I"m too comfortable to move."
Mary put aside her letter to Vanno which must catch the next post, and scribbled a few lines to Miss Bland.
"Will you sign if I bring you the pen?" she asked.
"No, thanks. I give you leave to forge my name. It will soon be your own, so you may as well practise writing it," said Marie. "Just put the initial "M.""
The girl obeyed. "M. Della Robbia," she wrote, forming the letters almost lovingly. How strange to think that before long that would be her own name! Mary Della Robbia! The sound was very sweet to her, though to be a princess was of no great importance. If Vanno were a peasant, to become his wife would make her a queen.
When the answer was ready, Americo received it upon his little tray.
"Two ladies for luncheon, you may tell the _chef_," said Marie.
"All right, Highness. And other Highness, I was to make you know from the gardener, one fox have bin catched in a trap on the way to eat the rabbits of the semaph.o.r.e. If the Highness wish to visit him, he is there for this morning."
"One would think it was an invitation for an "At Home,"" laughed Marie behind the butler"s broad back, as he vanished with the letter, through the window-door. "Fancy, foxes in the woods of Cap Martin, within four miles of Monte Carlo! They ought to be extra cunning."
"They must be," said Angelo, "to keep out of sight as they do in the Season, and yet manage to s.n.a.t.c.h a meal of rabbit or chicken occasionally. I think I"ll stroll over to the semaph.o.r.e and have a look at the gentleman, as I could hardly believe our gardener the other day when he swore there were foxes and hares in the woods."
"Don"t get too interested, and forget to come and receive your dear cousin and her American friend, who for all you know may be the most fascinating woman in the world," Marie called after her husband as he walked away.
His smile named the woman who was above all others for him; and though Marie knew herself his G.o.ddess, she never ceased to crave the a.s.surance.
When Angelo had found his Panama and gone down the loggia steps into the garden, she laughed a soft and happy laugh. "Poor darling!" she said.
"The fox is an excuse. He won"t come back till the last minute. One would think he was afraid of his cousin! It"s quite pathetic. Just because he had an innocent flirtation with her a hundred years ago."
Marie picked up Idina"s letter, which lay in the hammock. "I wonder what a graphologist--if that"s the right word--would make of this handwriting? I"m no expert. But to me the writing expresses the woman as I see her: heavy, strong, intelligent, lacking all charm of s.e.x, and selfishly cold."
"Do you think Miss Bland cold?" asked Mary. "I"ve seen her only once, and I don"t pretend to be a judge of character. Yet I had a queer thought about her when we met: that she was like a volcano under snow."
The Princess did not answer, for the character of Idina being of little importance to her, she had already begun to think of something else. She was comfortably glad to be younger and far, far more attractive than Miss Bland. She was resolving that, before the two guests arrived, she would put on a particularly becoming dress in order that the heroine of the old flirtation might more keenly than ever envy Angelo"s wife. This idea she did not clothe definitely in words, but it floated in her mind.
"Miss Bland must have come down from the Annonciata, to lurk about Mentone waiting for my answer," she said aloud, having reread the note.
"Otherwise she wouldn"t have time to arrive here for lunch at one, after her messenger got back."
It was now Mary"s turn to be inattentive, for she was adding a postscript to her letter, which but for that addition she had finished.
"Marie dreamed of pigeons last night," she scribbled hastily. "She is superst.i.tious about them, and says they mean trouble and parting. That seems rather funny to me, after the hundreds I saw in Monte Carlo and made friends with, and fed every day. I"m glad I am not superst.i.tious, especially now that you and I are separated. How glorious it is to feel quite sure that _our_ parting is only for a few days, instead of forever, like that of our poor lovers of "Remember eternal." It was dear of you to have those words engraved inside the ring you gave me. I love the quaint English. And it is like a secret which belongs only to us out of all the world."
"Well!" exclaimed the Princess, after she had tried in vain to attract Mary"s notice, "as you"re so delightfully occupied, I may as well remove myself and leave you in peace. In less than an hour the fair Idina will be upon us; and I"m going upstairs now to make myself as pretty as Angelo thinks me, to do honour to his cousin. By the way, it"s our first luncheon party, not counting you and Vanno and the cure."
She slid out of the red hammock, showing slim ankles that gleamed like marble through a thin film of bronze-brown silk. As she went into the house humming some Italian air she had picked up, Mary thought how young and innocently gay she seemed. It was almost impossible to believe her the same woman who had sobbed behind a disguising veil in Rose Winter"s drawing-room, begging Mary to swear by Vanno"s love never to betray her secret. And it seemed equally incredible that this mirthful and charming girl could have such a secret to hide. Mary tried to forget. It was a kind of treachery to remember those tears, and the reason for them which Angelo must not know. To change her thoughts, Mary sprang up swiftly, and, calling Angelo"s Persian dog Miro--a lovely white creature like a floating plume--she went out through the woods with her letter for Vanno, meaning to take a short cut among the olives, to a branch post-office not far off.
As she returned a few minutes later, two women walking at a distance under the great silvery arbour watched her run by with the Persian dog.
"That"s the girl I told you about, who is going to marry my cousin Giovanni, Prince Della Robbia"s younger brother," said Idina Bland to her companion; "the Miss Grant who has been so much talked about here."
Idina had a contralto voice, with tones in it almost as deep as those of a very young man. It was musical, and gave an effect of careful training, as if she had studied voice-production and had become self-conscious through over-practising.
"It"s strange, the resemblance in those names," the other woman murmured, almost as if speaking to herself. She was small and extremely thin, with insignificant features and sallow, slightly freckled complexion. But, though she was one of those women who might be of any age between twenty-eight and forty, her piercing gray eyes under black eyebrows, her quivering nostrils and slightly pointed chin, gave her a look of intense vitality. She was like a powerful if small electric lamp, purposely veiled by a dun-coloured shade. "It"s doubly strange, because"----she went on; then let her voice trail away into silence rather than break off abruptly. She had a slight accent suggesting the Middle West of America.
"Because--what?" Miss Bland caught her up with impatience.
The other deliberated before answering. Then she replied: "I"d rather not say anything more yet. I may be mistaken--very likely am. Wait until I"ve seen your Princess and this girl together. Then--probably I shall know."
Idina Bland glanced at her angrily, and opened her lips, but closed them again, and in silence began to walk on toward the Villa Mirasole. The neat little figure of her friend in its khaki-brown tailor-made dress kept up with her briskly. The bright eyes fixed themselves for an instant on Miss Bland"s sullen profile, and twinkled as they turned away. It was as if she enjoyed the knowledge that Idina was afraid to show impatience, as a small, intelligent animal often revels in dominating one that is larger and more important in its own estimation.
When Mary returned to the loggia to gather up the writing materials she had left there, the Princess had come back, wearing a gown which Mary had never seen. It was a silky white taffeta over yellow, and as she moved light seemed to run through the folds like liquid gold.
""Clothed in samite, mystic, wonderful,"" Mary quoted.
"This is Angelo"s favourite frock," said Marie. "He thinks"--her tone changed to bitterness--"that I look like a saint in it."
Mary made no comment. She felt that Marie was commanding her to silence.
But it was true: this gleaming dress with its white and golden lights, and a filmy fichu crossed meekly over the breast, gave Marie a look of sweet and virginal innocence. Her head, on the long white throat rising out of the pointed folds, seemed delicately balanced as an aigrette.
"Do you think I shall be able to hold my own against the lovely ladies who are coming?" she asked lightly, s.n.a.t.c.hing up her sleigh-bell gayety again.
"I feel sure you will," Mary replied in the same tone. Just then they faintly heard the electric bell which told that the guests had arrived, earlier than expected. Afterward Mary often remembered this question of the Princess" and her own answer.
Americo brought Miss Bland and her friend out to the loggia, which was the living-room of the family in warm, sunny weather. He announced the two names with elaborate unintelligibility, but Idina at once introduced her companion as Miss Jewett of St. Louis. "We met when I was in America," she explained. "Now she"s "doing" Europe in a few weeks, cramming in enough sightseeing for an Englishman"s year."
"We"re very flattered to be included among the sights," Marie said, smiling, but with something of the "princess" air which--perhaps unconsciously--she always put on with her husband"s cousin. Miss Jewett, making some polite and formal little answer, gazed with glittering intentness at her hostess and Mary Grant. Her eyes, in the thin, sallow face with its pointed chin, were so brilliantly intelligent that they seemed to have a life and individuality of their own, separate from the rest of her small body.
"Where"s Angelo?" asked Idina, when they had talked for a little while, and she had apologized for being too early.
"Oh, I"m so sorry he isn"t at home!" Marie exclaimed, enjoying the blank disappointment that dulled Idina"s expression. When she had produced her effect, she added that Angelo would come back in time for luncheon. Miss Bland turned her face away and looked down at a fountain on the terrace below the loggia. Fierceness flashed out of her like a knife unsheathed; but the back of her blond head, with its conventional dressing of the hair under a neat toque, was almost singularly non-committal.
Marie went on to make conversation about the fox Angelo had gone to see, laughingly describing the "fauna" of Cap Martin, of which season visitors knew little. "They say, as soon as everybody"s well out of the way, the most wonderful birds and flowers appear, that only scientific people can tell anything about," she informed her visitors. Miss Jewett listened with interest and asked questions; but a curtain seemed to have been lowered behind Idina"s eyes, shutting her mind away from outside things.
In the yellow drawing-room a clock tinkled out a tune, finishing with one sharp stroke; and Americo hovered uncertainly at the door-window of the big hall, seeing that his master was not with the ladies on the loggia.
"We must wait a few minutes, Americo," Marie said calmly; but at the same moment Angelo appeared on the fountain terrace, and came quickly up the loggia steps. He shook hands with Idina and greeted Miss Jewett with the grave, pleasant courtesy that was not unlike Vanno"s, but colder and more remote, except with those for whom he really cared.
Mary wondered if Miss Bland felt the chill of his manner.
They went in to luncheon, and the conversation was of abstract things.
If once or twice it seemed that Idina wished to turn the talk to old days which had given memories in common to her and Angelo, the Prince checked her quietly by asking some question about Ireland or America.
And it struck Mary, who was feeling vaguely sorry for this cousin held at arm"s length, that Miss Jewett watched Idina with interest and even curiosity, as if she were waiting for her to do or say something in particular.
At last the Princess rose, smiling at Miss Bland. "Shall we have coffee on the loggia?" she asked.
"We should both like that, shouldn"t we, Miss Jewett?" Idina said, with almost unnecessary emphasis. As she spoke, she looked at her friend.
Angelo opened the door for them to pa.s.s out, and it was evident that he did not mean to follow at once. Seeing his intention, Idina stopped.
"Aren"t you coming with us, Angelo?" she asked.
"I thought of smoking a cigar and joining you later," he answered.