The Diva's Ruby

by F. Marion Crawford

  CHAPTER VIII

  Margaret received her friend's letter and the account of Baraka'strial by the same post on the morning after she and Mr. Van Torp hadbeen to hear _Parsifal_ together, and she opened the two envelopesbefore reading her other letters, though after assuring herself thatthere was nothing from Logotheti. He did not write every day, by anymeans, for he was a man of the world and he knew that although mostwomen demand worship at fixed hours, few can receive it so regularlywithout being bored to the verge of exasperation. It was far better,Logotheti knew, to let Margaret find fault with him for writing toolittle than to spoil her into indifference by writing too much. Womenare often like doctors, who order their patients to do ten things andare uncommonly glad if the patient does one.

  So Margaret had no letter from Logotheti that morning, and she readLady Maud's and the enclosure before going on to the unpaid bills,religious tracts, appeals for alms, advertisements of patentmedicines, 'confidential' communications from manufacturers of motorcars, requests to sing for nothing at charity concerts, anonymousletters of abuse, real business letters from real business men, andoccasional attempts at blackmail, which are the usual contents of acelebrity's post-bag, and are generally but thinly salted withanything like news from friends.

  The Primadonna, in her professional travels, had grown cautious ofreading her letters in a room where there were other people; she hadonce surprised a colleague who was toying with an opera-glass quiteabsently, ten paces away, as if trying its range and focus, but whofrequently directed it towards a letter she was perusing; andshort-sighted people had dropped a glove or a handkerchief at her veryfeet in order to stoop down and bring their noses almost against anote she held in her hand. The world is full of curious people;curiosity is said, indeed, to be the prime cause of study andtherefore of knowledge itself. Margaret assuredly did not distrustMrs. Rushmore, and she did not fear Potts, but her experience hadgiven her the habit of reading her important letters alone in her ownroom, and sometimes with the door locked. Similarly, if any one camenear her when she was writing, even about the most indifferentmatters, she instinctively covered the page with her hand, or with apiece of blotting-paper, sometimes so hastily as to lead a person tobelieve that she was ashamed of what she had written. Natural habitsof behaviour remind us how we were brought up; acquired ones recall tous the people with whom we have lived.

  Margaret read the newspaper cutting first, supposing that it containedsomething flattering about herself, for she had been a little short ofpublic admiration for nearly a fortnight. Baraka's case was reportedwith the rather brutal simplicity which characterises such accountsin the English papers, and Logotheti's name appeared in Mr. Pinney'sevidence. There had been the usual 'laughter,' duly noted by thestenographer, when the poor girl's smart man's clothes were producedbefore the magistrate by the policeman who had arrested her. Themagistrate had made a few stern remarks when ordering the delinquentsto prison, and had called Baraka 'hardened' because she did not burstinto tears. That was all, and there were barely five-and-twenty linesof small print.

  But the Primadonna bit her handsome lip and her eyes sparkled withanger, as she put the cutting back into the first envelope, and tookthe folded letter out of the other. The girl had not only stolen aruby, but it was Margaret's ruby, her very own, the one Logotheti hadgiven her for her engagement, and which she had insisted upon havingset as a ring though it would cover more than half the space betweenher knuckle and the joint of her third finger. Further, it had beenstolen by the very girl from whom Logotheti had pretended that he hadbought it, a fact which cast the high light of absurdity on hisunlikely story! It was natural enough that she should have seen it,and should have known that he was taking it to Pinney's, and that sheshould have been able to prepare a little screw of paper with a bit ofglass inside, to substitute for it. The improbabilities of such anexplanation did not occur to Lady Maud, who saw only the glaring factthat the handsome Tartar girl had accompanied Logotheti, betweenLondon and Paris, disguised as a man, and had ultimately robbed him,as he richly deserved. She had imposed upon Van Torp too, and hadprobably tried to sell him the very stone she had stolen fromLogotheti, and the one she had made him take as a gift was nothing buta bit of glass, as he said it might be, for all he knew.

  She devoured Lady Maud's letter in a few moments, and then read ittwice again, which took so long that Mrs. Rushmore sent Justine totell Potts to ask if Miss Donne did not mean to go out that morning,though the weather was so fine.

  Great singers generally develop a capacity for flying into rages, evenif they have not been born with hot tempers. It is very bad for thevoice, but it seems to be a part of the life. Margaret was very angry,and Potts became as meek and mild as a little lamb when she saw thestorm signals in her mistress's face. She delivered her message in apathetic and oppressed tone, like a child reciting the collect for theday at a Sunday school.

  The Primadonna, imposing as a young lioness, walked slowly backwardsand forwards between her window and the foot of the iron bedstead.There was an angry light in her eyes and instead of flushing, as hercheeks did for any ordinary fit of temper, they were as white as wax.Potts, who was a small woman, seemed to shrink and become visiblysmaller as she stood waiting for an answer. Suddenly the lioness stoodstill and surveyed the poor little jackal that served her.

  'Ask Mrs. Rushmore if she can wait half an hour,' she said. 'I'm veryangry, Potts, and it's not your fault, so keep out of the way.'

  She was generous at all events, but she looked dangerous, and Pottsseemed positively to shrivel through the crack of the door as shedisappeared. She was so extremely glad to keep out of the way! Therewere legends already about the great singer's temper, as there areabout all her fellow-artists. It was said, without the slightestfoundation, that she had once tossed a maid out of the window like afeather, that on another occasion she had severely beaten a coachman,and that she had thrown two wretched lap-dogs into a raging fire in astove and fastened the door, because they had barked while she wasstudying a new part. As a matter of fact, she loved animals toweakness, and was kindness itself to her servants, and she wasgenerally justified in her anger, though it sometimes made her saythings she regretted. Oedipus found the right answer to the Sphinx'sriddle in a moment, but the ingenious one about truth propounded byPontius Pilate has puzzled more than sixty generations of Christians.If the Sphinx had thought of it, Oedipus would never have got toThebes and some disgustingly unpleasant family complications wouldhave been prevented by his premature demise.

  Margaret's wrath did not subside quickly, and as it could not spenditself on any immediate object, it made her feel as if she were in araging fever. She had never been ill in her life, it was true, andtherefore did not know what the sensation was. Her only experience ofmedical treatment had been at the hands of a very famous specialistfor the throat, in New York, to whom she went because all herfellow-artists did, and whose mere existence is said by gratefulsingers to effectually counteract the effects of the bad climateduring the opera season. He photographed her vocal chords, and thediagrams produced by her best notes, made her breathepleasant-smelling sprays and told her to keep her feet dry in rainyweather. That was the sum of her experience with doctors, and it wasnot at all disagreeable.

  Now, her temples throbbed, her hands trembled and were as hot as fire,her lips were drawn and parched, and when she caught sight of herselfin the looking-glass she saw that she was quite white and that hereyes were bloodshot.

  But she was really a sensible English girl, although she was so veryangry.

  'This is ridiculous!' she said aloud, with emphasis. 'I won't be sosilly!' And she sat down to try and think quietly.

  It was not so easy. A Tartar girl indeed! More probably a handsomeGreek. How could they know the difference in a London Police Court?She was not aware that in London and other great cities the policedisposes of interpreters for every known language, from the Malaydialects to Icelandic. Besides, it did not matter! She would have beenangry if Logotheti h
ad made love to the Duchess of Barchester, or toLady Dick Savory, the smartest woman in London, or to Mrs.Smythe-Hockaday, the handsomest woman in England; she would have beenangry of course, but not so furious as she was now, not in a whiterage that made her teeth chatter, and her eyes burn as if they werered-hot in her head. An ignorant Eastern girl! A creature thatfollowed him about in man's clothes! A thief! Pah! Disgusting!

  Each detail that occurred to her made it more unbearable. Sheremembered her conversation with him through the telephone when shewas at Versailles, his explanation the next day, which she had sofoolishly accepted, his kiss! Her blood raged in her eyes, and herhands shook together. On that evening he had refused to stay todinner; no doubt he had gone back to his house in Paris, and had dinedwith the girl--in the hall of the Aphrodite! It was not to bebelieved, and after that memorable moment under the elm-tree, too,when the sun was going down--after an honest girl's first kiss, thefirst she had given any man since she had been a child and her lipshad timidly touched her dead father's forehead! People would notbelieve it, perhaps, because she was an artist and an opera-singer;but it was true.

  It was no wonder that they had succeeded in deceiving her for a while,the two Orientals together! They had actually made Rufus Van Torpbelieve their story, which must have been a very different matter fromlying to a credulous young woman who had let herself fall in love! Butfor her friend Lady Maud she would still be their victim. Her heartwent out to the woman who had saved her from her fate, and with thethought came the impulse to send a message of gratitude; and thefirst fury of her anger subsided with the impulse to do so. By and byit would cool and harden to a lasting resentment that would not softenagain.

  Her hand still shook so that she could hardly hold the pen steadywhile she wrote the telegram.

  'Unspeakably grateful. If can join me here will gladly wait for you.Must see you at once. Do come.'

  She felt better as she rose from the table, and when she looked atherself in the mirror she saw that her face had changed again and thather natural colour was returning. She rang for Potts, remembering thatthe half-hour must be almost up.

  The maid appeared at once, still looking very small and mild; but oneglance told her that the worst was past. She raised her head, threwback her shoulders and stood up straight, apparently growing visiblytill she regained her ordinary size.

  'Potts,' Margaret said, facing round upon her, 'I've been in a rage,but I'm only angry now. Do I look like a human being again?'

  'Yes, ma'am,' answered the maid, inspecting her gravely. 'You arestill a bit pale, ma'am, and your eye is a trifle wild, I may say. Amotor veil, perhaps, if you are thinking of going out, ma'am.'

  'I haven't got such a thing, have I? I never motor now.'

  Potts smiled the smile of the very superior maid, and moved towards aperfectly new leather hat-box that stood in the corner.

  'I always put in two for sea, ma'am,' she said. 'You wore one when wecrossed the Channel the last time, if you remember.'

  'Potts, you're a treasure!'

  'Yes, ma'am,' Potts answered vaguely in her meek voice, as she divedinto one of the curious secret pockets of the hat-box. 'That is,ma'am,' she said, correcting herself, 'I mean, it's very kind of youto say so.'

  Without further consulting Margaret, who had seated herself before thedressing-table, Potts proceeded to fasten a broad-brimmed black strawhat on the thick brown hair; she then spread an immense white veilover it, drew it under her mistress's chin and knotted in a way thatwould have amazed a seaman.

  When Margaret was putting on her gloves, Mrs. Rushmore herself came tothe door, knocked and opened discreetly before there was any answer.

  'My dear child,' she asked, 'what in the world is the matter? Nothingserious, I trust?'

  'Oh, nothing,' Margaret answered, going forward to meet her, andfinding her natural voice. 'I'm sorry if I've kept you waiting.'

  'It's so unlike you, my dear,' Mrs. Rushmore said, with emphasis; 'andPotts looked quite grave when she brought me your message half an hourago.'

  'You would have been more surprised if she had burst out laughing,'Margaret said viciously.

  'My dear,' Mrs. Rushmore answered, 'I'm astonished at you! I knowsomething has happened. I know it. You are not yourself thismorning.'

  This was a statement so evidently absurd that it could not be answeredexcept by a flat contradiction; so Margaret said nothing, and went onworking her hand into a perfectly new glove.

  'I see that you have not even opened your letters,' Mrs. Rushmorecontinued severely. 'Except that,' she added, noticing the loosesheets of Lady Maud's letter on the toilet-table.

  Margaret gathered them up hastily, folded them into a crumpled packageand thrust them into the empty envelope. For once, she had forgottenher caution, but she retrieved herself by pushing the thick letterinto her long glove, much to Potts' distress, for it made an uglylump. She made it worse by forcing in the second envelope, whichcontained the newspaper cutting.

  'I'm ready now,' she said.

  Mrs. Rushmore turned and led the way with stately steps; she wasalways imposing, but when she was offended she was monumental. The twowent out in silence, opened their parasols, the one black, the otherscarlet, and walked slowly down the straight, dull street side byside. Mrs. Rushmore spoke first, after they had gone some distance.

  'I know,' she said, 'that something has happened. It was in thatletter. You cannot deny it, Margaret. It was in the letter you foldedin that hurried manner.'

  'The news was,' answered the Primadonna, still vicious.

  'I told you so. My dear child, it's not of the slightest use to try todeceive me. I've known you since you were a child.'

  'I'm not trying to deceive you.'

  'When I asked what had happened, you answered, "Nothing." I do notcall that very frank, do you?'

  'Potts was there, to begin with,' explained Margaret rather crossly.

  But Mrs. Rushmore no longer heard. Her head was up, her parasol layback upon her shoulder, her faded eyes were brighter than before, andthe beginning of a social smile wreathed her hitherto grave lips.There was game about, and she was pointing; there were lions towindward.

  'There's Mr. Van Torp, my dear,' she said in quite another tone, andvery low, 'and unless I'm much mistaken--yes, I knew it! He's withCount Kralinsky. I saw the Count from the window yesterday when hearrived. I hope our friend will present him.'

  'I daresay,' Margaret answered indifferently, but surveying the twomen through the white mist of her thick veil.

  'Yes,' said Mrs. Rushmore with delight, and almost whispering in herexcitement. 'He has seen us, and now he's telling the Count who weare.'

  Margaret was used to her excellent old friend's ways on suchoccasions, and gave no more heed to them than she would have given toa kitten scampering after a ball of string. The kitten would certainlycatch the ball in the end, and Mrs. Rushmore would as surely capturethe lion.

  Mr. Van Torp raised his hat when he was within four or five paces ofthe ladies, and his companion, who was a head and shoulders tallerthan he, slackened his pace and stopped a little way behind him asMrs. Rushmore shook hands and Margaret nodded pleasantly.

  'May I present Count Kralinsky?' asked the American. 'I've met himbefore, and we've just renewed our acquaintance.'

  Mr. Van Torp looked from Mrs. Rushmore to Margaret, and tried to seeher expression through her veil. She answered his look by a veryslight inclination of the head.

  'We shall be delighted,' said the elder lady, speaking for both.

  Mr. Van Torp introduced the Count to Mrs. Rushmore and then toMargaret, calling her 'Miss Donne,' and she saw that the man washandsome as well as tall and strong. He had a magnificent goldenbeard, a clear complexion, and rather uncertain blue eyes, in one ofwhich he wore a single eyeglass without a string. He was quietlydressed and wore no jewellery, excepting one ring, in which blazed alarge 'tallow-topped' ruby. He had the unmistakable air of a man ofthe world, and was perfectly at his ease. When he raised h
is straw hathe disclosed a very white forehead, and short, thick fair hair. Therewas no sign of approaching middle age in his face or figure, butMargaret felt, or guessed, that he was older than he looked.

  In her stiffly correct French, Mrs. Rushmore said that she wasenchanted to make his acquaintance, and Margaret murmured sweetly butunintelligibly.

  'The Count speaks English perfectly,' observed Mr. Van Torp.

  He ranged himself beside Margaret, leaving the foreigner to Mrs.Rushmore, much to her gratification.

  'We were going to walk,' she said. 'Will you join us?' And she movedon.

  'It is a great pleasure to meet you,' Kralinsky said by way of openingthe conversation. 'I have often heard of you from friends in Paris.Your little dinners at Versailles are famous all over Europe. I amsure we have many mutual friends, though you may never have heard myname.'

  Mrs. Rushmore was visibly pleased, and as the way was not very wide,Margaret and Van Torp dropped behind. They soon heard the other twoenumerating their acquaintances. Kralinsky was surprised at the numberof Mrs. Rushmore's friends, but the Count seemed to know everybody,from all the Grand Dukes and Archdukes in Russia, Germany, andAustria, to the author of the latest successful play in Paris, and theman of science who had discovered how to cure gout by radium.Kralinsky had done the cure, seen the play, and dined with theroyalties within the last few weeks. Mrs. Rushmore thought him one ofthe most charming men she had ever met.

  In the rear Mr. Van Torp and the Primadonna were not talking; but helooked at her, she looked at him, they both looked at Kralinsky'sback, and then they once more looked at each other and nodded; whichmeant that Van Torp had recognised the man he had met selling rubiesin New York, and that Margaret understood this.

  'I'll tell you something else that's quite funny, if you don't minddropping a little further behind,' he said.

  Margaret walked still more slowly till a dozen paces separated themfrom the other two.

  'What is it?' she asked in a low tone.

  'I believe he's my old friend from whom I learned to whistle_Parsifal_,' answered the American. 'I'm pretty sure of it, in spiteof a good many years and a beard--two things that change a man. Seehis walk? See how he turns his toes in? Most cow-boys walk like that.'

  'How very odd that you should meet again!' Margaret was surprised, butnot deeply interested by this new development.

  'Well,' said Van Torp thoughtfully, 'if I'd known I was going to meethim somewhere, I'd have said this was as likely a place as any to findhim in, now that I know what it was he whistled. But I admit that theother matter has more in it. I wonder what would happen if I asked himabout Miss Barrack?'

  'Nothing,' Margaret answered confidently. 'Nothing would happen. Hehas never heard of her.'

  Van Torp's sharp eyes tried in vain to penetrate the veil.

  'That's not quite clear,' he observed. 'Or else this isn't my goodday.'

  'The girl fooled you,' said Margaret in a low voice. 'Did she mentionhis name to you?'

  'Well, no----'

  'She never saw him in her life, or if she ever did, it was she whorobbed him of rubies; and it was not the other way, as you supposed.Men are generally inclined to believe what a nice-looking girl tellsthem!'

  'That's true,' Van Torp admitted. 'But all the same, I don't quiteunderstand you. There's a meaning in your voice that's not in thewords. Excuse me if I'm not quick enough this morning, please. I'mdoing my best.'

  'Your friend Baraka has been arrested and sent to prison in London forstealing a very valuable ruby from the counter in Pinney's,' Margaretexplained. 'The stone had just been taken there by Monsieur Logothetito be cut. The girl must have followed him without his knowing it, andwatched her chance, though how old Pinney can have left such a thinglying on the counter where any one could take it is simplyincomprehensible. That's what you heard in my voice when I said thatmen are credulous.'

  Mr. Van Torp thought he had heard even more in her accent when she hadpronounced Logotheti's name. Besides, she generally called him 'Logo,'as all his friends did. The American said nothing for a moment, but heglanced repeatedly at the white veil, through which he saw herhandsome features without their expression.

  'Well,' he said at last, almost to himself, for he hardly expected herto understand the language of his surprise, 'that beats the band!'

  'It really is rather odd, you know,' responded Margaret, whounderstood perfectly. 'If you think I've adorned the truth I'll giveyou the Police Court report. I have it in my glove. Lady Maud sent itto me with a letter.' She added, after an instant's hesitation, 'I'mnot sure that I shall not give you that to read too, for there'ssomething about you in it, and she is your best friend, isn't she?'

  'Out and out. I daresay you'd smile if I told you that I asked her tohelp me to get you to change your mind.'

  'No,' Margaret answered, turning slowly to look at him. 'She tells meso in this letter.'

  'Does she really?' Van Torp had guessed as much, and had wished toundermine the surprise he supposed that Margaret had in store for him.'That's just like her straightforward way of doing things. She told mefrankly that she wouldn't lift a finger to influence you. However, itcan't be helped, I suppose.'

  The conclusion of the speech seemed to be out of the logical sequence.

  'She has done more than lift a finger now,' Margaret said.

  'Has she offended you?' Van Torp ventured to ask, for he did notunderstand the constant subtone of anger he heard in her voice. 'Iknow she would not mean to do that.'

  'No. You don't understand. I've telegraphed to ask her to join ushere.'

  Van Torp was really surprised now, and his face showed it.

  'I wish we were somewhere alone,' Margaret continued. 'I mean, out ofthe way of Mrs. Rushmore. She knows nothing about all this, but shesaw me cramming the letters into my glove, and I cannot possibly lether see me giving them to you.'

  'Oh, well, let me think,' said the millionaire. 'I guess I want to buysome photographs of Bayreuth and the _Parsifal_ characters in thatshop, there on the right. Suppose you wait outside the door, so thatMrs. Rushmore can see you if she turns around. She'll understand thatI'm inside. If you drop your parasol towards her you can get theletters out, can't you? Then as I come out you can just pass them tome behind the parasol, and we'll go on. How's that? It won't take onesecond, anyhow. You can make-believe your glove's uncomfortable, andyou're fixing it, if anybody you know comes out of the shop. Will thatdo? Here we are. Shall I go in?'

  'Yes. Don't be long! I'll cough when I'm ready.'

  The operation succeeded, and the more easily as Mrs. Rushmore wentquietly on without turning her head, being absorbed and charmed byKralinsky's conversation.

  'You may as well read the newspaper cutting now,' Margaret said whenthey had begun to walk again. 'That cannot attract attention, even ifshe does look round, and it explains a good many things. It's in thethinner envelope, of course.'

  Van Torp fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, and brought out the slipof newspaper without the envelope, a precaution which Margaret noticedand approved. If she had been able to forget for a moment her angeragainst Logotheti she would have been amazed at the strides herintimacy with Van Torp was making. He himself was astounded, and didnot yet understand, but he had played the great game for fortuneagainst adversaries of vast strength and skill, and had won by hisqualities rather than his luck, and they did not desert him at themost important crisis of his life. The main difference between hispresent state of mind and his mental view, when he had been fightingmen for money, was that he now felt scruples wholly new to him. Thingsthat had looked square enough when millions were at stake appeared tohim 'low down' where Margaret was the prize.

  She watched him intently while he read the printed report, but hisface did not change in the least. At that short distance she could seeevery shade of his expression through the white veiling, though hecould not see hers at all. He finished reading, folded the slipcarefully, and put it into his pocket-book instead of returnin
g it tothe envelope.

  "She watched him intently while he read the printed report."]

  'It does look queer,' he said slowly. 'Now let me ask you one thing,but don't answer me unless you like. It's not mere inquisitiveness onmy part.' As Margaret said nothing, though he waited a moment for heranswer, he went on. 'That ruby, now--I suppose it's to be cut for you,isn't it?'

  'Yes. He gave it to me in Versailles, and I kept it some days. Then heasked me to let him have it to take to London when I came here.'

  'Just so. Thank you. One more question, if I may. That stone I gaveyou, I swear I don't know that it's not glass--anyhow, that stone,does it look at all like the one that was stolen?'

  'Oh, no! It's quite another shape and size. Why do you ask? I don'tquite see.'

  'What I mean is, if these people are around selling rubies, there maybe two very much alike, that's all.'

  'Well, if there were? What of it?'

  'Suppose--I'm only supposing, mind, that the girl really had anotherstone about her a good deal like the one that was stolen, and thatsomebody else was the thief. Queer things like that have happenedbefore.'

  'Yes. But old Pinney is one of the first experts in the world, and heswore to the ruby.'

  'That's so,' said Van Torp thoughtfully. 'I forgot that.'

  'And if she had the other stone, she had stolen it from MonsieurLogotheti, I have not the least doubt.'

  'I daresay,' replied the millionaire. 'I'm not her attorney. I'm nottrying to defend her. I was only thinking.'

  'She was at his house in Paris,' Margaret said, quite unable to keepher own counsel now. 'It was when I was at Versailles.'

  'You don't say so! Are you sure of that?'

  'He admitted it when I was talking to him through the telephone, and Iheard her speaking to him in a language I did not understand.'

  'Did you really? Well, well!' Mr. Van Torp was beginning to bepuzzled again. 'Nice voice, hasn't she?'

  'Yes. He tried to make me think he wasn't sure whether the creaturewas a boy or a girl.'

  'Maybe he wasn't sure himself,' suggested the American, but the tonein which she had spoken the word 'creature' had not escaped him.

  He was really trying to put the case in a fair light, and was not atall manoeuvring to ascertain her state of mind. That was clearenough now. How far she might go he could not tell, but what she hadjust said, coupled with the way in which she spoke of the man to whomshe was engaged as 'Monsieur Logotheti,' made it quite evident thatshe was profoundly incensed against him, and Van Torp became more thanever anxious not to do anything underhand.

  'Look here,' he said, 'I'm going to tell you something. I took a sortof interest in that Tartar girl the only time I saw her. I don't knowwhy. I daresay I was taken in by her--just ordinary "taken in," like atenderfoot. I gave her that fellow's address in New York.' He noddedtowards Kralinsky. 'When I found he was here, I wired Logotheti totell her, since she's after him. I suppose I thought Logotheti wouldgo right away and find her, and get more mixed up with her than ever.It was mean of me, wasn't it? That's why I've told you. You see, Ididn't know anything about all this, and that makes it meaner still,doesn't it?'

  Possibly if he had told her these facts forty-eight hours earlier shemight have been annoyed, but at present they seemed to be rather inhis favour. At all events he was frank, she thought. He declared waron his rival, and meant fight according to the law of nations. LadyMaud would not be his friend if he were playing any double game, butshe had stuck to him throughout his trouble in the spring, he hademerged victorious and reinstated in public opinion, and she had beenright. Lady Maud knew him better than any one else, and she was a goodwoman, if there ever was one.

  Yet he had accused himself of having acted 'meanly.' Margaret did notlike the word, and threw up her head as a horse does when a beginnerholds on by the curb.

  'You need not make yourself out worse than you are,' she answered.

  'I want to start fair,' said the millionaire, 'and I'd rather yourimpression should improve than get worse. The only real trouble withLucifer was he started too high up.'

  This singular statement was made with perfect gravity, and without theslightest humorous intention, but Margaret laughed for the first timethat day, in spite of the storm that was still raging in the neardistance of her thoughts.

  'Why do you laugh?' asked Van Torp. 'It's quite true. I don't want tostart too high up in your estimation and then be turned down as unfitfor the position at the end of the first week. Put me where I belongand I won't disappoint you. Say I was doing something that wasn'texactly low-down, considering the object, but that mightn't passmuster at an honour-parade, anyhow. And then say that I've admittedthe fact, if you like, and that the better I know you the less I wantto do anything mean. It won't be hard for you to look at it in thatlight, will it? And it'll give me the position of starting from theline. Is that right?'

  'Yes,' Margaret answered, smiling. 'Slang "right" and English "right"!You ask for a fair field and no favour, and you shall have it.'

  'I'll go straight,' Van Torp answered.

  He was conscious that he was hourly improving his knowledge of women'slittle ways, and that what he had said, and had purposely expressed inhis most colloquial manner, had touched a chord which would not haveresponded to a fine speech. For though he often spoke a sort ofpicturesque dialect, and though he was very far from being highlyeducated, he could speak English well enough when he chose. Itprobably seemed to him that good grammar and well-selected wordsbelonged to formal occasions and not to everyday life, and that it waspriggish to be particular in avoiding slang and cowardly to sacrificean hereditary freedom from the bonds of the subjunctive mood.

  'I suppose Lady Maud will come, won't she?' he asked suddenly, after ashort silence.

  'I hope so,' Margaret said. 'If not, she will meet me in Paris, forshe offers to do that in her letter.'

  'I'm staying on in this place because you said you didn't mind,'observed Van Torp. 'Do you want me to go away if she arrives?'

  'Why should I? Why shouldn't you stay?'

  'Oh, I don't know. I was only thinking. Much obliged anyway, and I'llcertainly stay if you don't object. We shall be quite a party, shan'twe? What with us three, and Lady Maud and Kralinsky there----'

  'Surely you don't call him one of our "party"!' objected Margaret.'He's only just been introduced to us. I daresay Mrs. Rushmore willask him to dinner or luncheon, but that will be all.'

  'Oh, yes! I suppose that will be all.'

  But his tone roused her curiosity by its vagueness.

  'You knew him long ago,' she said. 'If he's not a decent sort ofperson to have about, you ought to tell us--indeed you should not haveintroduced him at all if he's a bad lot.'

  Mr. Van Torp did not answer at once, and seemed to be consulting hisrecollections.

  'I don't know anything against him,' he said at last. 'All foreignerswho drift over to the States and go West haven't left their countryfor the same reasons. I suppose most of them come because they've gotno money at home and want some. I haven't any right to take it forgranted that a foreign gentleman who turns cow-boy for a year or twohas cheated at cards, or anything of that sort, have I? There were allkinds of men on that ranch, as there are on every other and in everymining camp in the West, and most of 'em have no particular names.They get called something when they turn up, and they're known as thatwhile they stay, and if they die with their boots on, they get buriedas that, and if not, they clear out when they've had enough of it;and some of 'em strike something and get rich, as I did, and some of'em settle down to occupations, as I've known many do. But they allturn into themselves again, or turn themselves into somebody elseafter they go back. While they're punching cattle they're generallyjust "Dandy Jim" or "Levi Longlegs," as that fellow was, or somethingof that sort.'

  'What were you called?' asked Margaret.

  'I?' Van Torp smiled faintly at the recollection of his nickname. 'Iwas always Fanny Cook.'

  Margaret lau
ghed.

  'Of all the inappropriate names!'

  'Well,' said the millionaire, still smiling, 'I guess it must havebeen because I was always sort of gentle and confiding and sweet, youknow. So they concluded to give me a girl's name as soon as they sawme, and I turned out a better cook than the others, so they tackedthat on, too. I didn't mind.'

  Margaret smiled too, as she glanced at his jaw and his flat, hardcheeks, and thought of his having been called 'Fanny.'

  'Did you ever kill anybody, Miss Fanny?' she asked, with a littlelaugh.

  A great change came over his face at once.

  'Yes,' he answered very gravely. 'Twice, in fair self-defence. If Ihad hesitated, I should not be here.'

  'I beg your pardon,' Margaret said quietly. 'I should not have askedyou. I ought to have known.'

  'Why?' he asked. 'One gets that kind of question asked one now andthen by people one doesn't care to answer. But I'd rather have youknow something about my life than not. Not that it's much to be proudof,' he added, rather sadly.

  'Some day you shall tell me all you will,' Margaret answered. 'Idaresay you did much better than you think, when you look back.'

  'Lady Maud knows all about me now,' he said, 'and no one else alivedoes. Perhaps you'll be the second that will, and that'll be all forthe present. They want us to come up with them, do you see?'

  Mrs. Rushmore and Kralinsky had stopped in their walk and were waitingfor them. They quickened their pace.

  'I thought perhaps this was far enough,' said Mrs. Rushmore. 'Ofcourse I could go on further, and it's not your usual walk, my dear,but unless you mind--'

  Margaret did not mind, and said so readily; whereupon Mrs. Rushmoredeliberately took Van Torp for her companion on the way back.

  'I'm sure you won't object to walking slowly,' she said to him, 'andMiss Donne and the Count can go as fast as they like, for they areboth good walkers. I am sure you must be a great walker,' she added,turning to the Russian.

  He smiled blandly and bent his head a little, as if he wereacknowledging a compliment. Van Torp looked at him quietly.

  'I should have thought you were more used to riding,' said theAmerican.

  'Ah, yes!' The indifferent answer came in a peculiarly oily tone,though the pronunciation was perfect. 'I was in the cavalry before Ibegan to travel. But I walked over two thousand miles in Central Asia,and was none the worst for it.'

  Margaret was sure that she was not going to like him, as she moved onwith him by her side; and Van Torp, walking with Mrs. Rushmore, wasquite certain that he was Levi Longlegs, who had herded cattle withhim for six months very long ago.