by Elinor Glyn
VIII
Theodora hummed to herself a glad little _chansonnette_ as she changedher breakfast negligee for the freshest and loveliest of her springfrocks. She did not know why she was so happy. There had been no word ofany one else being of the party, only she and Mrs. McBride, butVersailles would be exquisite on such a day, and something whispered toher that she might not yawn.
The most radiant vision awaited the widow, when, with unusualpunctuality, her automobile stopped at the hotel door. She came in. Shewas voluble, she flattered Josiah. So good of him to take Mr. Tubbs--andshe hoped it would not tire him. Theodora should be well looked after.They might be late and even dine at Versailles, she said, and Mr. Brownwas not to be anxious--_she_ would be responsible for the safe return ofhis beautiful little wife. (Theodora was five foot seven at least, buther small head and extreme slenderness gave people the feeling she waslittle--something to be protected and guarded always.)
Josiah was affable. Mrs. McBride's words were so smooth and so many, hehad no time to feel Theodora was going to dine out without him, or thatanything had been arranged for ultimate ends.
The automobile had almost reached Suresnes before the widow said to herguest:
"Your father and Lord Bracondale have promised to meet us at theReservoirs. Captain Fitzgerald told me how you wanted to go toVersailles, and how your husband is not strong enough to take theseexcursions, so I thought we might have this little day out there, whilehe is engaged with Mr. Clutterbuck Tubbs."
"How sweet of you!" said Theodora.
As they rushed through the smiling country, both women's spirits rose,and Mrs. McBride's were the spirits of experience and did not mountwithout due cause. Since she had been a girl in Dakota and passionatelyin love with her first husband--the defunct McBride was a secondventure--she had not met a man who could quicken her pulse like CaptainFitzgerald. It was a curious coincidence that they both had already twopartners to regret. It was an extra link between them, and JaneMcBride, who was superstitious, read the omen to mean that this timeeach had met his true mate.
"If he is irresistible to-day, I think I shall clinch matters," she wassaying to herself.
While Theodora's musings ran:
"How beautiful Versailles will look, and I dare say he will know allabout its history, and be able to tell me interesting things; and oh! Iam so glad I put on this frock, and oh! I am so happy."
And aloud they spoke of paradise plumes and the new gray, and the meritsand demerits of Callot and Doucet and Jeanne Valez. And the widow saidsome bright American things about husbands and the world in general thatconveyed crisp truths.
The drive seemed all too short, and there were their two cavaliers inthe court-yard awaiting them at the Reservoirs, having arrived justbefore them.
To the end of her life Theodora will remember that glorious May day. Itseven minutest detail, the color of the chestnut-trees, the tint of thesky, the scent in the air, every line of his figure and turn of hishead, every look in his eyes--and they were many and varied--and alsoand alas! every growing emotion in her own heart. But at the moment allwas gladness, and exquisite, young, irresponsible joy. _Sansarriere-pensee_ or disquieting reflection.
She wondered which of the two men was the handsomer as she got out ofthe automobile--dear, darling papa or Lord Bracondale; both were quiteshow creatures of their age, and both were of the same class andknowledge of _savoir-vivre_. Every one said such polite and graciousthings, it was all so smooth and gay, and it seemed so natural that theyshould take a turn up towards the chateau while breakfast was beingprepared.
Half-past one o'clock was time enough to eat, the widow said.
"I want to show you a number of spots I love," Hector announced,choosing a different path to the other pair. "And it is a day we can behappy in, can't we?"
"I want to be happy," said Theodora.
"Then we shall go no farther now; we shall sit on this seat and admirethe view. See, we are quite alone and undisturbed; all the world hasgone home to breakfast."
Then he looked at her, and though he really did try at this stage to bereasonable, something of the intense attraction he felt for her blazedin his eyes.
She was sufficiently delectable a picture to turn the sagest head. Therewas something so absolutely pure white about that skin, it seemed goodto eat, flawless, unlined, unblemished, under this brilliant light.
The way her silvery blond hair grew was just the right way a woman'shair ought to grow, he thought; low on a high, broad brow, rippling andsoft, and quantities of it. What could it be like to caress it, to runone's fingers through it, to bury one's face in it? Ah! and then therewere her tender eyes, dewy and shadowed with dark lashes, and sointensely blue. His glance wandered farther afield. Such a figure!slender and graceful and fine. There was something almost childish aboutit all; the innocent look of a very young girl, with the polish of thewoman, garbed by an artist. It seemed the great pearls in her ears werenot more milkily white than her throat, and he was sure were also herlittle slender hands, that did not fidget, but lay idly in her lap,holding her blue parasol. He would like to have taken off her gloves tosee.
Passionate devotion was surging up in his breast.
And he was an Englishman, and it was still the morning. There was nomoon now and he had not even breakfasted! This shows sufficiently towhat state he had come.
"I want you to tell me all about Versailles," she said, looking to theleft and the gray wing beyond the chapel. "Its histories and itsmeanings. I used to read about it all after Sarah brought me here oncefor our treat, but you probably are learned upon the subject, and I wantto know."
"I would much rather hear what you did when Sarah brought you here foryour treat," he said.
"Oh! it was a very simple day," and she leaned back and laughed softlyat the recollection. "Papa was very hard up at that time, you know, andwe were rather poor, so we came as cheaply as we could, Sarah,Clementine, and I, and I remember there were some very snuffy men in thetrain--we could not go first-class, you see--and one of them ratherfrightened me."
"The brute!" said Hector.
"I think I was about fourteen."
"And even then perfectly beautiful, I expect," he commented to himself.
"We walked up from the station, and oh! we saw all the galleries and weran all over the park, but we missed the way to Trianon somehow andnever saw that, and when we got back here we were too tired to startagain. We had only had sandwiches, you see, that we brought with us, andsome funny little drinks at a cafe down there," and she pointed vaguelytowards the lake, "because we found we had only one franc fifty betweenus all. But we were so happy, and Clementine knows a great deal, andtold us many things which were quite different from what was in theguide-books--but it seems so long, long ago. Do you know it must be sixyears." And she looked at him seriously.
"Half a lifetime!" agreed Hector, with a whimsical smile.
"Oh! you are laughing at me!" she said, and there was a cloud in theblue stars which looked up at him.
He made a movement nearer her--while his deep voice took every tone oftenderness.
"Indeed, indeed I am not--you dear little girl! I love to hear of yourday. I was only smiling to think that six years ago you were a babychild, and I was then an old man in feeling--let me see, I wastwenty-five, and I was in Russia."
He stopped suddenly; there were some circumstances which, sitting therebeside her, he would rather not remember connected with Russia.
This was one of the peculiarities of Theodora. There was something abouther which seemed to wither up all low or vicious things. It was not thatshe filled people with ascetic thoughts of saints and angels and theirmother in heaven, only she seemed suddenly to enhance simple joys withbeauty and charm.
They talked on for half an hour, and with every moment he discoveredfresh qualities of sweetness and light in her gentle heart.
She was not ill educated either, but she had never speculated uponthings, she took them for granted just as they w
ere, and _Jean d'Agreve_was probably the only awakening book she had ever read.
Hector all at once seemed to realize his mother's vision, and tounderstand for the first time what marriage might mean. That to possessthis exquisite bit of God's finished work for his very own, to live withher in the country, at old Bracondale, to see her honored and adored,surrounded by little children--his children--would be a dream of blissfar, far beyond any dream he had ever known. A domestic, tender dream ofsweetness that he had always laughed at before as a final thing whenlife's other joys should be over, and now it seemed suddenly to be theonly heaven and completion of his soul's desire.
Then he remembered Josiah Brown with a hideous pang of pain andbitterness--and they went in to lunch.
* * * * *
Theodora was so gay! Captain Fitzgerald and Mrs. McBride were alreadyseated when they joined them in the restaurant. Most of the othervisitors had finished--it was almost two o'clock.
There was a good deal of black middle in the widow's eyes, Theodoranoticed, and wondered to herself if she had had a happy and excitinghour too. Papa looked complacent and handsomer than ever, she thought.She did hope it was going well. And she wondered how they were todispose of their afternoon.
The widow soon settled this. She had, she said, a wild desire to rushthrough the air for a little--she _must_ have her chauffeur go at fullspeed--somewhere--anywhere--her nerves needed calming! And CaptainFitzgerald had agreed to accompany her. Their destination was unknown,and they might not be back for tea, so Lord Bracondale must take thegreatest care of Theodora and give her some if they did not turn up.They certainly would for dinner, but eight o'clock would be time enoughfor that.
When your destination is unknown you can never say how many hours itwill take to get there and back, she pointed out. And no one feltinclined to argue with her about this obvious truth!
Now if Theodora had been a free unmarried girl, or a freer widow, it ishighly probable fate would not have arranged this long afternoon inblissful surroundings undisturbed by any one. As it was, who knows ifthe goddess settled it with a smile on her lip or a tear in her eye? Itwas settled, at all events, and looked as if it were going to containsome moments worth remembering.
