Part 16 (2/2)
”You mean Phil Lambert?” Tony was surprised.
Hal nodded.
”That's the chap. Only man I ever knew that could keep Carlotta in order.”
”But Carlotta hasn't the slightest idea of marrying Phil,” objected Tony.
”Maybe not. I only say he is the man she ought to marry. I say, Tony, does she seem happy to you?”
”Carlotta! Why, yes. I hadn't thought. She seems gayer than usual, if anything.” Tony's eyes sought her friend's face. Was there something a little forced about that gaiety of hers? For the first time it struck her that there was a restlessness in the lovely violet eyes which was unfamiliar. Was Carlotta unhappy? Evidently Hal thought so. ”You have sharp eyes, Hal,” she commented. ”I hadn't noticed.”
”Oh, I'm one of the singed moths you know. I know Carlotta pretty well and I know she is fighting some kind of a fight--maybe with herself. I rather think it is. Tell Phil Lambert to come down here and marry her out of hand. I tell you Lambert's the man.”
”You think Carlotta loves Phil?”
”I don't think. 'Tisn't my business prying into a girl's fancies. I'm simply telling you Phil Lambert is the man that ought to marry her, and if he doesn't get on to the job almighty quick that pop-eyed simpleton over there will be prancing down the aisle to Lohengrin with Carlotta before Christmas, and the jig will be up. You tell him what I say. And study the thing a bit yourself while you are here, Tony. See if you can get to the bottom of it. I hate to have her mess things up for herself that way.”
Whereupon Hal once more proceeded to do his duty to the mermaid, leaving Tony to her other partner.
”Well,” the latter murmured, seeing her free. ”I have done the heavy polite act, discussed D'Annunzio, polo and psycho-a.n.a.lysis and finished all three subjects neatly. Do I get my reward?”
”What do you ask?”
”The first dance and then the garden and the moon and you--all to myself.”
Tony shook her head. She was on guard.
”I shall want more than one dance and more than one partner. I am afraid I shan't have time for the moon and the garden to-night. I adore dancing.
I never stop until the music does.”
A flash of exultancy leaped into his eyes.
”So? I might have known you would adore dancing. You shall have your fill. You shall have many dances, but only one partner. I shall suffice.
I am one of the best dancers in the world.”
”And evidently one of the vainest men,” coolly.
”What of it? Vanity is good when it is not misplaced. But I was not boasting. I _am_ one of the best dancers in the world. Why should I not be? My mother was Lucia Vannini. She danced before princes.” He might have added, ”She was a prince's mistress.” It had been the truth.
”Oh!” cried Tony. She had heard of Lucia Vannini--a famous Italian beauty and dancer of three decades ago. So Alan Ma.s.sey was her son. No wonder he was foreign, different, in ways and looks. One could forgive his extravagances when one knew.
”Ah, you like that, my beauty? You will like it even better when you have danced with me. It is then that you will know what it is to dance.
We shall dance and dance and--love. I shall make you mine dancing, _Toinetta mia_.”
Tony shrank back from his ardent eyes and his veiled threat. She was a pa.s.sionate devotee of her own freedom. She did not want to be made his or any man's--certainly not his. She decided not to dance with him at all.
But later, when the violins began to play and Alan Ma.s.sey came and stood before her, uttering no word but commanding her to him with his eyes and his out-stretched, nervous, slender, strong, artist hands, she yielded--could scarcely have refused if she had wanted to. But she did not want to, though she told herself it was with Lucia Vannini's son rather than with Alan Ma.s.sey that she desired to dance.
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