Part 18 (1/2)

”Why?” she asked.

He looked at her meditatively. Then he accepted her unspoken invitation and seated himself on the lounge by her side.

”We who come from the self-contained countries of the world,” he explained, ”and China is one of them, come always with the desire and longing for new experiences, new sensations. My own appet.i.te for these is insatiable.”

”And am I a new sensation?” Maggie asked, glancing up at him innocently enough, but with a faint gleam of mockery in her eyes.

”You are,” he answered placidly. ”You reveal--or rather you suggest--the things of which in my country we know nothing.”

”But I thought you were all so hyper-civilised over there,” Maggie observed. ”Please tell me at once what it is that I possess which your womenkind do not.”

”If I answered all that your question implies,” he said, ”I should make use of speech too direct for the conventions of the world in which you live. I would simply remind you that whereas we men in China may claim, I think, to have reached the same standard of culture and civilisation as Europeans, we have left our womenkind far behind in that respect. The Chinese woman, even the n.o.ble lady, does not care for serious affairs.

The G.o.d of the Mountains, as they call him, made her a flower to pluck, a beautiful plaything for her chosen mate. She remains primitive. That is why, in time, man wearies of her, why the person of imagination looks sometimes westward, finds a new joy and a strange new fascination in a wholly different type of femininity.”

”But you have many European women now living in China,” Maggie reminded him,--”American women, too, and they are so much admired everywhere.”

”The Chinese, especially we of the n.o.bility,” Prince Shan replied, ”are born with racial prejudices. An individual may forgive an affront, a nation never. The days of retaliation by force of arms may indeed have pa.s.sed, but the gentleman of China, even of these days, is not likely to take to his heart the woman of America.”

”Dear me,” Maggie murmured, ”isn't it rather out of date to persevere in these ancient feuds?”

”Feeling of all sorts is out of date,” he admitted patiently, ”yet there are some things which endure. I should be honoured by your friends.h.i.+p, Lady Maggie.”

”This is very sudden,” she laughed. ”I am very flattered--but what does it mean?”

”Permission to call upon you--and your aunt,” he added, glancing around the little circle.

”We shall be delighted,” Maggie replied, ”but you won't like my aunt.

She is a little deaf, and she has no sense of humour. She has come to live with us because Lord Dorminster and I are not really related, although we call ourselves cousins, and I should hate to leave Belgrave Square. You shall take me out to tea to-morrow afternoon instead, if you like.”

A smouldering fire burned for a moment in his eyes.

”That will make me very happy,” he said. ”I shall attend you at four o'clock.”

Thenceforward, conversation became general. Prince Shan, with the air of one who has achieved his immediate object, left his place by Maggie's side and talked with grave courtesy to her aunt. Presently the little party broke up, bound, it seemed, for the same theatre. Nigel had become a little serious.

”Well, you've made a good start, Maggie,” he remarked, leaning forward in his place in the limousine.

”Have I?” Maggie answered thoughtfully. ”I wonder!”

”I wish we could get at him in some different fas.h.i.+on,” her companion observed uneasily.

”My dear man, I'm hardened to these enterprises,” Maggie a.s.sured him. ”I even let the President of the German Republic hold my hand once when his wife wasn't looking. Nothing came of it,” she added, with a little sigh.

”These Germans are terribly sentimental when it doesn't cost them anything. They've no idea of a fair exchange.”

”By a 'fair exchange' you mean,” her aunt suggested, a little censoriously, ”that you expected him to barter his country's secrets for a touch of your fingers?”

”Or my lips, perhaps,” Maggie added, with a little grimace. ”Please don't look so serious, Aunt. I'm not really in love with Prince Shan, you know, and to-night I rather feel like marrying Nigel, if I can get him back again. I like his waistcoat b.u.t.tons, and the way he has tied his tie.”

”Too late, my dear,” Nigel warned her. ”I give you formal notice. I have transferred my affections.”