Part 3 (1/2)

I stepped forward, and addressed him with the modest firmness Madame de Maluet's pupils are taught in ”deportment lessons.” ”I beg your pardon, but aren't you Sir Lionel Pendragon?”

”I am Lionel Pendragon,” said the other man--the quite young man.

Mother, you could have knocked me down with the shadow of a moth-eaten feather!

They both took off their travelling caps. The real Dragon's was in decent taste. The Mock Dragon's displayed an offensive chess-board check.

”Have you come to say--that Miss Lethbridge has been prevented from meeting me?” asked the real one--the R. D., I'll call him for the moment.

”I am----” It stuck in my throat and wouldn't go up or down, so I compromised--which was weak of me, as I always think on principle you'd better lie all in all or not at all. ”I suppose you don't recognize me?”

I mumbled fluffily.

”What--it's not possible that you're Ellaline Lethbridge!” the R. D.

exclaimed, in surprise, which might mean horror of my person or a compliment.

I gasped like a fish out of water, and wriggled my neck in a silly way, which a charitable man, unaccustomed to women, might take for schoolgirl gawkishness in a spasm of acquiescence.

Instantly he put out his hand and wrung mine extremely hard. It would have crunched the real Ellaline's rings into her poor little fingers.

”You must forgive me,” he said. ”I saw the rose”--and he smiled a wonderfully agreeable, undragonlike smile, which put him back to thirty-two--”but I was looking out for a very different sort of--er--young lady.”

”Why?” I asked, losing my presence of mind.

”I--well, really, I don't know why,” said he.

”And I was looking for a very different sort of man,” I retorted, feeling idiotically schoolgirlish, and sillier every minute.

He smiled again then, even more nicely than before, and followed the example I had set. ”Why?” he inquired.

Unlike him, I did know why only too well. But it was difficult to explain. Still, I had to say something or make things worse. ”When in doubt play a trump, or tell the truth,” I quoted to myself as a precept; and said out aloud that, somehow or other, I'd thought he would be old.

”So I am old,” he said, ”old enough to be your father.” When he added that information, he looked as if he would have liked to take it back again, and his face coloured up with a dull, painful red, as if he'd said something attached to a disagreeable memory. That was what his expression suggested to me; but as I know for a fact that he has not at all a nice, kind character, I suppose in reality what he felt was only a stupid p.r.i.c.k of vanity at having inadvertently given his age away. I nearly blurted out the truth about mine, which would have got me into hot water at once, as Ellaline's hardly nineteen and I'm practically twenty-one--worse luck for you.

By this time the Mock Dragon had walked slowly on, but the brown image in ”native” dress had glued himself to the platform near by, too respectful to be aware of my existence. While I was debating whether or no the last speech called for an answer, the R. D. had a sudden thought which gave him an excuse to change the subject.

”Where's your chaperon?” he snapped, with a flash of the eye, which was his first betrayal of the hidden devil within him.

”She was called away to visit a relative,” I answered, promptly; because Ellaline and I had agreed I was to say that; and in a way it was true.

”You didn't come here alone?” said he.

”I had to,” said I.

”Then it's a monstrous thing that Madame de Maluet should have let you,”

he growled. ”I shall write and tell her so.”

”Oh, don't, please don't,” I begged, you can guess how anxiously. ”She really _couldn't_ help it, and I shall be so sorry to distress her.” He was still glaring, and desperation made me crafty. ”You wouldn't refuse the first thing I've asked you?” I tried to wheedle him.

I hoped--for Ellaline's sake, of course--that I should get another smile; but instead, I got a frown.

”Now I begin to realize that you are--your mother's daughter,” said he, in a queer, hard tone. ”No, I won't refuse the first thing you ask me.