Part 31 (2/2)
Which was all sophistical and nonsensical; and she knew it, for there was a mischievous little gleam in her eye as she spoke. But none the less, shutting her ears to the unsympathetic Stephanie, did she continue to show herself alone in public with the beautiful youth. She had thrown her crown over the windmills for a few happy days; for a few happy days she was feeding her starved nature, drinking in her fill of beauty and colour and the joy of life. And the pair, thus forcibly thrown together, drifted through the narrow ca.n.a.ls beneath the old crumbling palaces, side by side, and hand in hand while Giacomo and Felipe, disregarded automata, bent to their oars.
One afternoon, one mellow and memorable afternoon, they were returning from Murano. Not a breath of wind ruffled the lagoon. The islands in their spring verdure slumbered peacefully. Far away the s.h.i.+pping in the bacino lay still like enchanted craft. Only a steamer or two, and here and there the black line of a gondola with its standing, solitary rower, broke the immobility of things. And Venice, russet and rose and grey, brooded in the sunset, a city of dreams. They murmured words of wonder and regret. Instinctively they drew near and their shoulders touched. Their clasp of fingers tightened and their breath came quickly, and for a long time they were silent. Then at last he whispered her name, in the old foolish and inevitable way. And she turned her face to him, and met his eyes and said ”Paul,” and her lips as she said it seemed to speak a kiss. And all the earth was wrapped in glory too overwhelming for speech.
It was only when they entered the Grand Ca.n.a.l and drew up by the striped posts of the palazzo that she said: ”I have those Roman people and the Heatherfields coming to dinner. I wish I hadn't.” She sighed.
”Would you care to come?”
He smiled into her eyes. ”No, my Princess, not to-night. I should do silly things. To-night I will go and talk to the moon. To-morrow, when can I come?”
”Early. As early as you like.”
And Paul went away and talked to the moon, and the next morning, his heart tumultuous, presented himself at the palazzo. He was shown into the stiff Italian drawing-room, with its great Venetian gla.s.s chandelier, its heavy picture-hung walls, its Empire furniture covered in yellow silk. Presently the door opened and she entered, girlish in blouse and skirt, fresh as the morning. ”Bon jour, Paul. I've not had time to put on my hat, but--”
She did not end, for he strode toward her and with a little laugh of triumph took her in his arms and kissed her. And so what had to be came to pa.s.s.
CHAPTER XVI
”I LOVE you too much, my Sophie, to be called the Princess Zobraska's husband.”
”And I love you too much, dear, to wish to be called anything else than Paul Savelli's wife.”
That was their position, perfectly defined, perfectly understood. They had arrived at it after many arguments and kisses and lovers'
protestations.
”Such as I am I am,” cried Paul. ”A waif and stray, an unknown figure coming out of the darkness. I have nothing to give you but my love.”
”Are there t.i.tles or riches on earth of equal value?”
”But I must give you more. The name Paul Savelli itself must be a t.i.tle of honour.”
”It is becoming that,” said the Princess. ”And we can wait a little, Paul, can't we? We are so happy like this. Ah!” she sighed. ”I have never been so happy in my life.”
”Nor I,” said Paul.
”And am I really the first?”
”The first. Believe it or not as you like. But it's a fact. I've told you my life's dream. I never sank below it; and that is why perhaps it has come true.”
For once the a.s.sertion was not the eternal lie. Paul came fresh-hearted to his Princess.
”I wish I were a young girl, Paul.”
”You are a star turned woman. The Star of my Destiny in which I always believed. The great things will soon come.”
They descended to more commonplace themes. Until the great things came, what should be their mutual att.i.tude before Society?
”Until I can claim you, let it be our dear and beautiful secret,” said Paul. ”I would not have it vulgarized by the chattering world for anything in life.”
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