The Princess Galva: A Romance

by David Whitelaw

  CHAPTER IX

  DUCAL ATTENTIONS

  The Duc Armand de Choleaux Lasuer opened one eye and then the other.Then he shut them quickly and called for his _valet de chambre_, whomhe cursed roundly for not seeing that there was a gap between thesilken curtains of his bedroom window, a little space of which thewinter sun had taken full advantage.

  His grace yawned and smothered an exclamation. Then he watched with alazy interest the sedate and black-garbed figure of his servant as hewent about his duties. The brows of the duke were contracted as thoughin pain, which was not to be wondered at considering the time at whichhis grace had gone to bed. To be precise, the duke had a shocking head.

  "Remy."

  "Yes, your grace."

  "What o'clock is it?"

  "A quarter to one, your grace."

  "Then bring my letters and chocolate at a quarter past, Remy."

  Left to himself, the nobleman turned his pillow over and rested hisaching head on the cool freshness and slept fitfully, until Remy wokehim and placed a little table containing a silver chocolate service byhis elbow. He then pulled up the blinds, lit the fire, and entered theadjacent room to prepare his master's bath.

  Duke Armand tumbled out of bed and thrust his feet into a pair ofTurkish slippers and himself into a Japanese dressing-gown, and drew upa commodious arm-chair to the fire. Remy, hearing the movement,followed noiselessly with the chocolate, beside which he now placed anivory box of cigarettes and a spirit-lamp.

  It was one of Remy's duties, previous to brushing and folding hismaster's evening clothes each night, to empty the pockets _en masse_into a small drawer in the dressing-table. The duke was therebyenabled to piece together, by the evidence of the articles, the hazythreads of the previous evening's doings. He now drew out this drawerand emptied the assorted collection in the lap of his barbaricdressing-gown.

  A bunch of keys, a menu from Maxim's on the margin of which werepencilled two ladies' names--some loose gold and silver--a pair ofwhite kid gloves torn to ribbons, and a little gold-chain lady's bag.This latter he held up and tried to think how it came into hispossession.

  All the time that he was in Remy's hands he thought and thought, but tono purpose. He had a hazy kind of recollection of having seen itbefore, that was all. It contained a little lace handkerchief and atwenty-franc gold piece, but no initial or other mark of identificationcould be found.

  When his toilet was complete, the young Duc de Choleaux Lasuer stoodbefore the cheval glass in his room whilst he sprinkled a suspicion ofJockey Club upon his handkerchief.

  He saw the reflection of a well set up, clean-limbed man oftwenty-five, with crisp hair of a dark brown, almost black, curlingback from an intellectual brow. The skin was of that olive tint thatsets off dark eyes so well.

  The duke was dressed in a grey lounge suit with a waistcoat of somedark material sprigged with tiny violet flowers. His cravat, tied inthe latest mode, was held in position by a pin surmounted by a largeblood-red ruby. The hands were rather large, but with taperingfingers; the feet, in their patent leather boots with _suede_ clothuppers, were long and thin. An aristocrat every inch of him, and adandy withal, but yet with a suggested air of strength and manliness.In short, his Grace the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer was a very presentableperson indeed. So had thought the Princess Galva when she had caughtsight of him in the corridors or in the Palm Court of their hotel.

  The duke slowly made his way down the wide carpeted staircase, pausingin the foyer to light a cigarette. Then he crossed to the boardcontaining letters and telegrams and glanced idly over them. It washere that he read a notice that any one finding a small gold chain-bagshould communicate with the office clerk of the hotel.

  In a flash it came to him that he had picked up the dainty littletrifle as he went to his room the night before. His friend, theViscount Mersac, had been with him. What a night it had been, to besure! The duke smiled at the recollections.

  As he approached the office a little man in a dark grey suit and withgold-rimmed spectacles was interviewing the clerk in charge. He turnedas the duke approached, and caught sight of the bag in his hand.

  "Ah!" he said. "You have found it?"

  The clerk looked up. "Your Grace," he said, "this is the gentleman whohas advertised. It is his ward who has lost it--the little purse."

  It was a trivial incident in itself, yet it was the means of anacquaintance of sorts springing up between the duke and Mr. EdwardSydney, an acquaintance which permitted a whisky and soda together inthe buffet and a word or two when they met in the foyer.

  The introduction to Galva took place after dinner one night, whenEdward was leaving the hotel with the ladies for the opera. The duke'slarge white motor-car had refused to budge from in front of theentrance, and the girl and her foster-mother had had to walk round itto their waiting fiacre. The duke had apologized very prettily, andGalva's already favourable impression of him suffered nothing from themeeting--rather the reverse.

  From that time the young people seemed to be always crossing the foyerat the same time, and once Galva and Edward had accepted the duke'sinvitation to join him in a spin in the lovely car to Barbizon. It waswhen he was driving his engine that the duke showed to his bestadvantage and told clearly that under the dandified exterior was anerve of iron. To see his capable hands grip the steering-wheel was initself enough to inspire the utmost confidence.

  Galva never forgot that ride and the other rides that followed hardupon it. During her stay in England she had hardly seen a car--theroads round Tremoor were not ideal for the sport, and the novelty of itall was, to her, wonderful. The long, straight, white roads fringedwith tall poplars, and the absence of speed-limit, showed her motoringat its best, and she would return to the hotel with cheeks aglow andwith fascinating tendrils of hair escaping from the dainty motor-bonnetshe had bought in the Magasin du Louvre.

  It seemed nearly every day that the great white car sped away from thehotel with the duke at the wheel and the little fur-clad figure of MissBaxendale tucked up cosily by his side. Edward, who invariably satwith the chauffeur in the tonneau, enjoyed these exhilarating spins asmuch as any one, but he began to wonder where it would all end, and toask himself whether he was doing his duty in the sphere to which he hadcalled himself.

  He indirectly tackled the girl on the subject one day as they sat aftertea in their private drawing-room. Anna was writing in her own room,and the opportunity was too good to be missed. Edward cleared histhroat, and started the subject by saying--

  "I have been looking out the trains, Galva. We will go through toMadrid, I think. It is a little out of our way, but it will beinteresting."

  "Why, guardy, you don't want to leave Paris, surely. It's grand here,and old Spain can wait. When I get to San Pietro there'll be a lot ofhorrid things to think about and to worry us. I love Paris."

  "Is it only Paris you are so loath to leave, Galva?"

  The princess blushed a delicious pink that did not pass unnoticed byher self-appointed guardian. He rose and straightened himselfimportantly, pulling down his waistcoat with a tug.

  "You seem to take a great delight in the company of the duke," he began.

  For a moment a look of resentment came into the girl's eyes, but sherose and put a warm arm round Edward's shoulders.

  "Surely you can have no objection to him, guardy. I--I--_do_ like him;but I like you, too, and I wouldn't care to do anything you would notwish me to do."

  "My dear child"--Edward was quite paternal--"I think it would be bestto see how things are in your country. A duke is a good match for MissBaxendale--but perhaps not so suitable for the Queen of San Pietro."

  Galva made no answer, but stood looking out from one of the longwindows at the twilight settling down over the gardens of the Louvre.Edward went on--

  "Besides, we know nothing of the duke. Titles on the continent arehardly the same as in England. I don't want to hurt your feelings,Galva, but the young man keeps shocking ho
urs. I saw him come in atthree this morning. I don't think he was quite sober; he insisted ongiving champagne to all the hall porters and taking two huge motorlamps to light his way up-stairs."

  "Why, guardy! weren't _you_ in bed at three?"

  Edward gave a little cough.

  "Well--it may have been earlier. I--I--had been sitting up reading. Idon't sleep very well, Galva. I think it's the change of scene."

  The princess turned away so that he should not see her smile.

  "I don't expect he's a saint, guardy, but he's most attentive, politeand--nice."

  "That's not every thing in a husband, Galva, let alone a consort for aqueen. You see, I have to look after your destiny--it's mymission--and I feel we ought to be on our way."

  "At once?"

  "Well--say the day after to-morrow. Tell the duke if he wants to knowyour movements that you will be here at this hotel at the same timenext year. We ought to be able to manage it by that time, whateverhappens. I must ask you not to tell him where we are going. We don'tknow how the land lies over there at San Pietro, and we don't want anylove-sick dukes monkeying round and getting in the way. You don't minddoing as I ask you, do you?"

  "My dear guardy, I am in your hands entirely. I wouldn't like to thinkthat I will never see Armand--I mean the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer again,but I'll do as you say, I know you are right, but I--I think he likesme."

  "So I think, Galva. Really I have been afraid to be left alone withhim for a week past. It would be a nice way to carry out my duty toMr. Baxendale to give you to the first man we meet, even if he is aduke. Besides, if he means anything, he'll wait a year,--don't forgetwe're dining early, Galva, as we're going to the Porte Saint Martin."

  Edward held the door open for her to pass out, then he turned andwalked to the fireplace. For some moments he stood, his legs wellapart and his back to the fire, communing with himself on hisimportance.

  Then a half smile spread itself over his features as he took his mindback a few weeks to a dejected little bowed figure shuffling its wayover London Bridge, and as he glanced round the sumptuous furnishingsof the room he now found himself in and compared it to Belitha Villas,the smile broadened out and he rolled on the brocaded sofa inuncontrollable mirth. Then he sat up and drove his fist into a cushionof yellow satin.

  "How _dare_ I!" he cried to himself, "how _dare_ I!--Edward Povey,you've made strides with a vengeance from the time when you were a poorlittle clerk at forty-five bob a week, when you can forbid a queen tomarry a duke! Oh, what _would_ Charlotte say?"

  And the little man composed himself and went to his room to dress fordinner.

  * * * * *

  In a somewhat secluded corner of the Palm Court two young people weresitting. One of them, a young man of twenty-five was moodily stirringhis spoon round and round in a tiny cup of tea. In his other hand heheld the fingers of Miss Galva Baxendale.

  "A year's a long time," he was saying.

  "But you've only known me a few days, and----"

  The Duc de Choleaux Lasuer turned to her.

  "Nearly a fortnight, Galva, and in knowing you I have known myself.I've been a bit of a 'rotter' as you English call it, but things aregoing to be different now. I'll turn teetotaler--and learn a trade."

  "And get to bed without the aid of two Bleriot lamps?"

  The duke drove the spoon through the bottom of the dainty cup.

  "Now come, Galva, that's hardly fair; they told me about it in themorning. I didn't know it was the talk of the hotel. You know when ithappened?"

  "No--why?"

  "It was after you had refused to come to the Opera with me, that'swhen, how, and why it happened."

  "In that case I suppose I am an accessory before the fact orsomething--look, there's Mr. Sydney dressed; we're dining early."

  Galva rose.

  "You'll not forget to-morrow?"

  "No, of course I'll not forget to-morrow, duke--it's our last spin."

  Remy could never understand why it was that the duke was sobad-tempered that night as he dressed him for dinner. But then Remywas not paid to understand the moods of so exalted a personage as theDuc de Choleaux Lasuer.