Mrs. Fitz

by J. C. Snaith

  CHAPTER XVIII

  MRS. ARBUTHNOT BEGINS TO TAKE NOTICE

  It was a little before six when the ladies retired in the quest oftheir lost repose. No sooner had they left us than we lit our pipesand drew our chairs up to the fire. In patience I awaited the riddleof the Chief Constable's presence being read to me.

  "Arbuthnot,"--the great man sucked at his pipe pensively--"there areseveral things that Fitzwaren and I are agreed that you ought to know."

  Fitz nodded his head in curt but rather sinister approval.

  "Yes, tell him," he said.

  "Before Fitzwaren accepted your hospitality," said the great man, "heasked my advice."

  "Oh, really?" said I.

  "And I think it only right to mention"--the air of the great manreminded me of my old tutor expounding a proposition in Euclid--"thatit is upon my advice he has accepted it."

  "I ought to feel honoured."

  "Well, yes, perhaps you ought." The Chief Constable removed his pipefrom his lips and tapped it upon an extremely dirty boot. "But whetheryou will feel honoured when you have heard all we have to say to you Iam not so sure."

  "Nor I," said Fitz.

  "You see, Arbuthnot, we have a rather delicate problem to deal with.It is neither more nor less than the personal safety of the Princess."

  "I hope," said I, "her Royal Highness will be at least as safe here asshe would be anywhere else."

  "That is the crux of the whole matter. Fitzwaren and I have come tothe conclusion that, for the time being, the Princess will actually besafer in this house than she would be in any other."

  "Really!"

  "Our local police, acting in conjunction with Scotland Yard, hope to beable to ensure her safety, that is if she and her friends takereasonable care."

  "You may depend upon it, Coverdale, that as far as my wife and I areconcerned we shall do nothing to jeopardise it."

  "That is taken for granted. But her present position is much morecritical than perhaps you are aware."

  "I know, of course, that Ferdinand the Twelfth is determined to haveher back in Illyria."

  "Yes, and further than that, the Republican Party is equally determinedthat she never shall go back to Illyria. The events of last night havefurnished another proof of their sentiments."

  "I don't understand."

  "There is reason to believe that the destruction of the Grange is thework of an incendiary. That is to say, a bomb was thrown through oneof the windows, as was the case at Blaenau recently. There can be noquestion that the object of the crime was to kill the Princess, as itwas to kill the King, but in each case the business was bungled. Inthis instance, rather miraculously, not a soul was hurt, although thehouse, as you know, has been entirely destroyed. A bomb was throwninto the dining-room, but as dinner happened to be half an hour laterthan usual, nobody was there."

  This grisly narrative gave me a sharp shock, I confess. And I musthave betrayed my state of mind, for the Chief Constable favoured mewith a smile of reassurance.

  "Put your trust in the Middleshire police," said he, "with a littleassistance from the Yard. They won't play that game twice with us, youcan depend upon it. If the Yard had not been rather late with theirinformation they would never have played it at all. Our people wereactually on the way to the Grange when the outrage was committed."

  For all the air of professional reassurance, the married man, thefather of the family, and the county member was thoroughly alarmed.

  "It is all very well, Coverdale, but what guarantee is there that evenat this moment they are not dropping bombs into our bedrooms?"

  "Four men in plain clothes are patrolling your park, and will continueto do so as long as the Princess remains under your roof."

  It would have been ungrateful not to express relief for this officialvigilance. But that it was felt in any substantial measure is morethan I can affirm.

  "Of course, my dear fellow," said Fitz, "now that you are in possessionof all the facts of the case, you have a perfect right to withdraw theoffer of your hospitality. Coverdale and I are agreed that it will domuch to promote my wife's safety for the time being, because this housewill be kept under continual observation. But as soon as I can makeother arrangements I shall do so, of course. And if you really believethat the safety of your house and family is involved, we shall have noalternative but to go at once."

  To what length ought we to carry our altruism? Here was a graveproblem for the married man, the father of the family, and the countymember. In spite of the opinion of the cool-headed and sagaciousCoverdale, I could not allay the feeling that to harbour the "StormyPetrel" was to incur a grave risk. But at the same time it was not inme to turn her adrift into the highways and hedges.

  "Now that we have had due warning of what to expect," said Coverdale,"these gentry will not find it quite so easy to throw bombs in thiscountry as they do in Illyria. And if I thought for one moment youwere not justified in extending your hospitality to the Princess Ishould certainly say so."

  Events are generally too strong for the humble mortals who are contentto tread the path of mediocrity. We had already offered sanctuary tothe Crown Princess of Illyria. A little painful reflection seemed toshow that to revoke it now would be rather inhuman and rather cowardly.All the same, it was impossible to view with enthusiasm the prospect offour men in plain clothes continually patrolling the park.

  "By the way," said the Chief Constable, "you will, I hope, treat thisbusiness of the bombs as strictly confidential. It won't help mattersat all to find it in the morning papers."

  "I appreciate that; but won't the servants be rather curious aboutthose four sportsmen in plain clothes?"

  "Ostensibly they are there to look after a gang of burglars who areexpected in the neighbourhood."

  "Not exactly a plausible story, I am afraid!"

  "The story doesn't matter, so long as they don't suspect the truth.And as Mrs. Fitzwaren's _incognito_ has been so well kept, there is noreason why they should."

  So much for the latest development of this amazing situation. From thevery moment the curtain had risen upon the first act of thetragi-comedy of the Fitzwarens I had seemed to be cast for theuncomfortable _role_ of the weak soul in the toils of fate. From thebeginning it had been contrary to the promptings of the small voicewithin that I had borne a part in their destinies. And here they wereestablished under my roof, a menace to my household and the enemies ofall peace of mind.

  It only remained to make the best of things and to hope devoutly thatFitz would soon arrange to relieve us of the presence of the "StormyPetrel." But in spite of all the dark knowledge it was necessary tokeep locked up in one's heart, there was an aspect of the matter whichwas rather charming. To watch the lion and the lamb lying downtogether, a veritable De Vere Vane-Anstruther playing hostess to thefair _equestrienne_ from a continental circus was certainly pleasant.

  I think it is up to me to admit that at the core Mrs. Arbuthnot is assound as a bell. Certainly her demeanour towards her guests wasfaultless. Indeed, it made me feel quite proud of her to reflect thathad she really known the true status of our visitor she could have donenothing more for her comfort and for that of her _entourage_. Herfoibles were condoned and "her little foreign ways" were yielded to inthe most gracious manner; and after dinner that evening it was a greatmoment when our distinguished guest volunteered to accompany on thepiano her hostess's light contralto.

  I took this to be symbolical of the complete harmony in which the dayhad been spent. Confirmation of this was forthcoming an hour later,when we had the drawing-room to ourselves.

  "Really she is not half such a trial as I feared she would be," Mrs.Arbuthnot confessed.

  "If you meet people fairly and squarely half-way," said I, in myfavourite _role_ of the hearthrug philosopher, "there are surprisinglyfew with whom you can't find something in common."

  "Perhaps there is such a thing as being too fastidious."

  "We are apt to draw the
line a little close at times, eh?"

  "Some of these Bohemians must be rather interesting in their way," saidMrs. Arbuthnot.

  "No doubt they have some sort of a standard to which they try toconform," said I, with excellent gravity.

  "Of course she is not _exactly_ a lady. Yet in some ways she is_rather_ nice. Doesn't look at things in the way we do, of course.Awfully unconventional in some of her ideas."

  "By unconventional you mean continental, I presume?"

  "No, not continental exactly. At least, I was 'finished' in Dresden,but I didn't learn anything of that kind."

  "Had you been 'finished' in an Austrian circus perhaps you might havedone."

  "I hardly think so. They don't seem to be ideas you could pick up. Ishould think you would have to be born with them. They seem somehow tobelong to your past--to your ancestors."

  "It has not occurred to me that circus-riders were troubled withancestors."

  "Hardly, perhaps, in the sense that we mean. But there is somethingrather fine in their way of looking at things."

  "A good type of Bohemian would you say?"

  "Surprisingly so in some ways. She doesn't seem to care a bit aboutmoney and she is absolutely devoted to Fitz. She doesn't seem to carea bit about jewels, either. She has got some positively gorgeousthings, and if there is anything I care to have she hopes I'll take it.Of course I shall do nothing of the kind, but I should just love tohave them all."

  "She appears to have had her admirers in Vienna, evidently."

  "That is what one can't make out. She has three tiaras, and they mustbe priceless."

  "Nonsense, _mon enfant_. Even the glamour of the sawdust a thousandtimes reflected cannot transmute paste into the real thing."

  "But the odd part of it is they _are_ real. I am convinced of it; andAdele, my maid, who was two years with dear Evelyn, is absolutely sure."

  "Is it conceivable that the possessor of three diamond tiaras wouldchoose to jump for a livelihood through a hoop in pink tights?"

  "Yes, I know it's absurd. But nothing will convince me that herdiamonds are not real."

  "And she offered you the pick of them?"

  "The pick of everything except the smallest of the three tiaras, whichshe thought perhaps her father might not like her to part with."

  "One would have thought that he would at least have set his affectionsupon the largest of the three."

  "Really, I can hardly swallow the circus."

  "You haven't by any chance asked her the question?"

  "Dear no! One wouldn't like to ask a question of that sort unless oneknew her quite well. I don't think she was ever in a circus at all.Or if she was, she may have been a sort of foundling."

  "Stolen by gipsies from the ancestral castle in her infancy. Afterall, there is nothing to prevent her father being a duke."

  "I don't think it would surprise me, although, of course, she is ratherodd. But then in all ways she is so different from us."

  "Did you observe whether she ate with her knife and drank out of thefinger-bowls?"

  "Her manners are just like those of anybody else. I am asking Mary todine here on Friday, so that she can see for herself. It is her ideasthat are un-English; yet, judged by her own standard she might beconsidered quite nice."

  "Mrs. Arbuthnot, surely a very generous admission!"

  "Let us be fair to everybody. I'm not sure that one couldn't getalmost to like her. There is something about her that seems to takeright hold of you. Personal magnetism, I suppose."

  "Or some uncomfortable Bohemian attribute? Can it be, do you suppose,that the standard the English gentlewoman likes the whole world toconform to would be none the worse for a little wider basis?"

  "Don't be a goose! A person is either a lady or she isn't, but she maybe frightfully entertaining and fascinating all the same."

  "Yes, that has the hall-mark of truth. There are cases in history.Miss Dolly Daydream, for example, of the Frivolity Theatre."

  Mrs. Arbuthnot reproved me for the levity with which I treated a graveissue. Upon the receipt of my apology she regaled me with theastounding fact that Mrs. Fitz looked down on the English.

  "Is it conceivable?" said I, the picture of incredulity.

  "Really and truly she does. Quite laughs at us. Says we are sostupid--so _bete_, that's her word. And she says we are so conceited.She seems to think we have very little education in the things thatreally matter."

  "Is she old-fashioned enough to believe that there is anything thatreally matters?"

  "In a way she does."

  "How antediluvian! What does she believe it is that really matters?"

  "She seems to think it's the soul."

  "Dear me! I hope you made it clear to her that that part of theEnglishman's anatomy is never mentioned in good society?"

  "She knows that, I think. She says why the Romans are ashamed of it iswhat she can't fathom."

  "She pays us the compliment of comparing us to the Romans?"

  "She says we are the Romans."

  "In a re-incarnation, I presume?"

  "I suppose she means that--she is so awfully odd. And for the Romansto give themselves airs is too ridiculous."

  "Has she no opinion of the Caesars?"

  "The Caesars don't amount to much, in her opinion. We are going to haveanother lesson before long, she says, and it will be a very good thingfor the world."

  "If by that she means that materialism leads to a _cul-de-sac_, andthat it takes a better creed than that to raise a reptile out of themud, perhaps we might do worse than agree with her."

  "She certainly never said anything about any 'isms.' But I don'tunderstand you anyway."

  "It seems to me, _mon enfant_, she has had a good deal to say about the'isms.' But then, as you say, she's so foreign. Was there anythingelse about her that engaged your attention?"

  "Heaps of things. She is terribly superstitious, a tremendous believerin fate. She thinks everything is fore-ordained, and that the samethings keep happening over again."

  "Doesn't her oddness strike you as rather out of date?"

  "Absurdly. But it is not so much her ideas as the way she lives up tothem that makes her so different from other people. There was onething she told me really made me laugh. She said that Nevil was hertwin-soul, and that they lived in Babylon together about three thousandyears ago."

  "I should think that is not unlikely."

  "Be serious, Odo."

  "There are more things in earth and heaven, Horatia, than are dreamt ofin your philosophy. Go to bed like a wise child, and dream of huntingthe fox, and see that this Viennese horsewoman doesn't addle that braintoo much."

  Mrs. Arbuthnot confessed namely that she didn't feel in the least likesleep.

  "I think I'll have another cigarette," she said.

  "Sitting up late and smoking to excess will destroy that magnificent DeVere Vane-Anstruther nerve."

  "Goose! Yet I am not sure that this circus woman hasn't destroyed italready. Do you know, I've never been in the least afraid of anybodybefore, but I rather think I'm a bit afraid of her. She really iswonderfully odd."

  A slight tremor seemed to invade the voice of Mrs. Arbuthnot. I wasfain to believe that such a display of sensibility was extremelyhonourable to her. For, even judged as a mere human entity, our guestwas quite apart from the ordinary, and it would have implied a measureof obtuseness not to recognise that fact.

  Taking one consideration with another, I felt the hour was ripe to letMrs. Arbuthnot into the secret. As things were going so well, it wasperhaps not strictly necessary; yet at the same time I had apremonition that I should not be forgiven if the wife of my bosom waskept too long in innocence of our visitor's romantic lineage.

  "That cigarette of yours," said I, "means another pipe for me, althoughyou know quite well that it makes me so bad-tempered in the morning.But I think I ought to tell you something--that is if you will swear byall your gods not to breathe a word to
a living soul, not even to MaryCatesby."

  Mrs. Arbuthnot pricked up her ears properly.

  "Why, of course. You mean it is something about this Mrs. Fitz? Iknow it."

  "What do you know?"

  "I can't explain it, but as soon as I spoke to her it came upon me thatshe was something quite deep and mysterious."

  "Well, it happens that she is. Things are not always what they seem.I am going to give you a guess."

  "There is something Grand-Duchessy about her. You remember that womanwe met at Baden-Baden? In some ways she is rather like her."

  "And do you remember your old friend the King of Illyria?--'the oldjohnny with the white hair,' to quote Joseph Jocelyn De Vere."

  "The dear old man in the Jubilee procession?"

  "The Victor of Rodova; the representative of the oldest reigningmonarchy in Europe."

  "Yes, yes. Such an old dear."

  "Well, our friend Mrs. Fitz happens to be his only child, the HeiressApparent to the throne of Illyria. What have you to say to that?"

  For the moment Mrs. Arbuthnot had nothing at all to say, but she lookedas though a feather would have knocked her over.

  "It is a small world, isn't it, _mon enfant_?"

  "It really is the oddest thing out!" Mrs. Arbuthnot's feminineorganisation was quite tense. "It doesn't surprise me, and yet it isreally too queer."

  "Ridiculously queer that humdrum people like us should be entertainingroyalties unawares."

  "Not nearly so queer as that she should have married Nevil Fitzwaren.How did she come to marry him?"

  "They are twin-souls who lived in Babylon three thousand years ago."

  "That is merely silly."

  "My authority is her Royal Highness."

  "Fancy the Crown Princess of Illyria running off with a man like Fitz!"

  "There is reason to suppose that he makes her happy."

  "Why, one day she will be Queen of Illyria!"

  "She may be or she may not."

  "Well, I can't believe it anyway! There is no proof."

  "There is no proof beyond herself. And I confess that to me shecarries conviction."

  For an instant Mrs. Arbuthnot knitted her brows in the process ofthought. She then concurred with a perplexed little sigh.

  "But how dreadfully awkward it will be," she said in a kind of rapture,"for poor dear Mary Catesby!"