The Princess Passes Volume 56 by Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson (book recommendations .TXT) 📖

Is Infatuated--Infatuated With This Youth Of Seventeen Or

Eighteen, Whom She Insists, To Justify Her Foolishness, Is A Year

Older Than He Can Possibly Be. Something Must Be Done, And Soon, Or

She Is Capable Of Proposing To Him, If He Pretend To Hang Back."

 

"Something Will Be Done, My Dear; Do Not Be Unnecessarily Excited,"

Said The Baron. "I Fear We Have Not The Full Sympathy Of Lord Lane."

 

Chapter 19 (The Little Rift Within The Lute) Pg 142

"If You Mean, Will I Do Anything To Keep The Two Apart, I Confess You

Haven't," I Answered. "The Contessa Di Ravello Is Her Own Mistress,

And I Should Say If She Wanted The Moon, It Would Be Bad For Anyone

Who Tried To Keep Her From Getting It."

 

[Illustration: "Here We Were At Annecy".]

 

"We Shall See," Murmured The Baron, As The Boy Had Murmured A Few Days

Ago; And Behind This Hint Also I Felt That There Lurked Some Definite

Plan.

 

I Had Been To Aix-Les-Bains Years Before, But It Had Not Then Occurred

To Me To Visit Annecy, So Near By. It Was The Boy Who Had Suggested

Coming, And We Had Planned Excursions Up The Lake, Looking Out On Our

Guide-Book Maps Various Spots Of Historic Or Picturesque Interest

Which We Should See _En Route_, Especially Menthon, The Birthplace Of

St. Bernard. Now, Here We Were At Annecy, And In All The World There

Could Not Be A Town More Charming. By The Placid Blue Lake--Whose

Water, I Am Convinced, Would Still Be The Colour Of Melted Turquoises

If You Corked It Up In A Bottle--You Could Wander Along Shadowed

Paths, Strewn With The Gold Coin Of Sunshine, Through A Park Of Dells

As Bosky-Green As The Fair Forest Of Arden. In The Quaint,

Old-Fashioned Streets Of The Town You Were Tempted To Pause At Every

Other Step For One More Snap-Shot. You Longed To Linger On The Bridge

And Call Up A Passing Panorama Of Historic Pageants. All These Things

The Boy And I Would Have Done, And Enjoyed Peacefully, Had We Been

Alone, But Gaetà Elected To Find Annecy "Dull." There Was Nothing To

Do But Take Walks, Or Sit By The Lake, Or Drive For Lunch To The Beau

Rivage, Or Go Out For An Afternoon's Trip In One Of The Little

Steamers. Beautiful? Oh, Yes; But Quiet Places Made One Want To Scream

Or Stand On One's Head When One Had Been In Them A Day Or Two. It

Would Be Much More Amusing At Aix. There Were The Casinos, And The

_Fêtes De Nuit_, With Lots Of Coloured Lanterns In The Gardens, And

Fireworks, And Music; And Then, The Baccarat! That Was Amusing, If

You Liked, For Half An Hour, And When You Were Bored There Was Always

Something Else. She Must Really Get To Aix, And See That The Villa

Santa Lucia Was In Order. We Would Promise--Promise--_Promise_ To

Follow At Once? We Would Find Our Rooms At Her Villa Ready, With

Flowers In Them For A Welcome, And We Must Not Be Too Long On The Way.

 

Gaetà Left In The Evening, The Boy And I Seeing Her Off At The Train;

And Twelve Hours Later We Started For Châtelard, Joseph Taking Us Away

From The Highroads--Which Would Have Been Perfect For Molly's

Mercédès--Along Certain Romantic By-Paths Which He Knew From Former

Journeys. Conversation No Longer Made Itself Between Us; We Had To

Make It, And In The Manufacturing Process I Mentioned My "Friends Who

Were Motoring."

 

"They May Turn Up Before Long Now," I Said, "Judging From The Plans

They Wrote Of In A Letter I Had From Them At Aosta. It's Just Possible

That They Will Pass Through Aix. You Would Like Them."

 

"I Have Run Away From My Own Friends, And--Gone Rather Far To Do It,"

Chapter 19 (The Little Rift Within The Lute) Pg 143

Said The Boy. "Yet I Seem Destined To Meet Other People's. It Was With

Very Different Intentions That I Set Out On This Journey Of Mine."

 

"'Journeys End In Lovers' Meetings,'" I Quoted Carelessly. "Perhaps

Yours Will End So."

 

"I Thought I Had Done With Lovers," Said The Boy, With One Of His Odd

Smiles.

 

"You're Not Old Enough To Begin With Them Yet."

 

"I Was Thinking Of--My Sister. Her Experience Was A Lesson In Love I'm

Not Likely To Forget Soon. Yet Sometimes I--I'm Not Sure I Learned The

Lesson In The Right Way. But We Won't Talk Of That. Tell Me About

Your Friends. I'm Becoming Inured To Social Duties Now."

 

"You Don't Seem To Find Them Too Onerous. As For My Friends--They're

An Old Chum Of Mine, Jack Winston, And His Bride Of A Few Months, The

Most Exquisite Specimen Of An American Girl I Ever Met. Perhaps You

May Have Heard Of Her. She's The Daughter Of Chauncey Randolph, One Of

Your Millionaires. Look Out! Was That A Stone You Stumbled Over?"

 

"Yes. I Gave My Ankle A Twist. It's All Right Now. I Daresay My Sister

Knows Your Friend."

 

"I Must Ask Molly Winston, When I Write, Or See Her. But You've Never

Told Me Your Sister's Name, Except That She's Called 'Princess.' If I

Say Miss Laurence----"

 

"There Are So Many Laurences. Did You--Ever Mention In Your Letters

To--Your Friends That You Were--Travelling With Anyone?"

 

"I Haven't Written To Them Since I Knew Your Name, But Before That, I

Told Them There Was A Boy Whom I Had Met By Accident And Chummed Up

With, Just Before Aosta. I Think I Rather Spread Myself On A

Description Of Our Meeting."

 

"You _Didn't_ Do That! How Horrid Of You!"

 

"Oh, I Put It Right Afterwards, I Assure You, In Another Letter. I

Told Them That In Spite Of The Bad Beginning, We'd Become No End Of

Pals. That We Travelled Together, Stopped At The Same Hotels,

And--What's The Matter?"

 

"Nothing. My Ankle Does Hurt A Little, After All. Shall You Go On In

Your Friends' Motor Car If You Meet Them?" He Looked Up At Me Very

Earnestly As He Spoke.

 

"At One Time I Thought Of Doing So, If We Ran Across Each Other. But

Now That I've Got You----"

 

"Who Knows How Long We May Have Each Other? Either One Of Us May

Change His Plans--Suddenly. You Mustn't Count On Me, Lord Lane."

Chapter 19 (The Little Rift Within The Lute) Pg 144

 

"Look Here," I Said Crossly, "Do Speak Out. Don't Hint Things. Do You

Mean Me To Understand That You Wish To Stop At Aix, Indefinitely, And

Play Out Your Little Comedy Of Flirtation To Its Close?"

 

"I Don't Know What I Intend To Do; Now, Less Than Ever," Answered The

Boy In A Very Low Voice, The Shadow Of His Long Lashes On His Cheeks.

 

I Was Too Much Hurt To Question Him Further, And We Pursued Our Way In

Silence, Along The Lake Side, And Then Up The Billowy Lower Slopes Of

The Semnoz. We Had Showers Of Rain In The Sunshine; And The Long, Thin

Spears Of Crystal Glittered Like Spun Glass, Until Dim Clouds Spread

Over The Bright Patches Of Blue, And The World Grew Mistily

Grey-Green.

 

We Had Planned Long Ago, Before The Spell Of The Contessa Fell Upon

Us, To Make The Journey We Were Taking Now, By Way Of The Semnoz, The

So-Called Rigi Of This Alpine Savoy, Which Is Neither Wholly French

Nor Wholly Italian. But We Had Abandoned The Idea Since, In A Fine

Frenzy To Keep Our Promise Of Rejoining Her With All Speed Lest She

Perish Alone In The Icy Disapproval Of Her Friends. When The Mists

Closed Round Us, We Ceased To Regret The Decision, If We Had Regretted

It; For Instead Of Seeing Savoy Spread Out Beneath Us, With Its Snow

Mountains And Fertile Valleys, Lit With Azure Lakes--As Many As The

Graces--We Should Have Been Wrapped In Cloud Blankets.

 

After A Walk Of Thirty-Two Kilometres, We Came To Châtelard, And,

Having Known Little Or Nothing Of The Town, We Were Surprised To Find

That Most Other People Knew Of It As A Great Centre For Excursions.

It Was Almost As Unbelievable As That The Places Where We Lived Could

Possibly Go On Existing In Exactly The Same Way During Our Absence.

 

"There Are Actually Three Hotels, All Said To Be Good," I Remarked,

Quoting From My Guide-Book. "To Which Shall We Go?"

 

The Boy Hesitated. "Choose Which You Like, For Yourself," He Replied

With A Slight Appearance Of Embarrassment. "As For Me, I Will Make Up

My Mind--Later."

 

I Could Take This In But One Way: As A Snub. Evidently He Had Selected

This Fashion Of Intimating To Me The Change That Gaetà's Intrusion Had

Worked In Our Relations. I Bit Back A Sharp Word Or Two Which I Might

Have Regretted By-And-Bye, And Answered Not At All. In Consequence Of

This Little Passage, However, The Boy Went To One Hotel, And I To

Another, Where I Put Joseph Up Also.

 

A Sense Of Loneliness Was Upon Me, Therefore My Conscience Stirred

Uneasily, And I Reproached Myself In That Of Late I Had Neglected The

Affairs Of My Muleteer. At One Time He And I Had Conversed At Length

On Such Subjects As Mules, Women, Perdition, And The Like; But For

Many Days Now Our Intercourse Had Consisted Mostly Of A "Good Morning,

Joseph!" "Good Morning, Monsieur!"

 

Chapter 19 (The Little Rift Within The Lute) Pg 145

To-Night I Sent For Him, And Enquired Whether He Had Anything To Wish

For.

 

"Ah, Monsieur, There Is But One Thing For Which I Ask At Present," He

Said.

 

"Anything I Can Manage, Joseph?"

 

"I Fear Not, Monsieur. It Is The Assurance That The Poor Young Soul I

Am Trying To Lead Out Of Darkness May Reach The Light Before We Have

To Part."

 

"Innocentina's?"

 

"The Same, Monsieur."

 

"You