Part 10 (2/2)

”You have forgotten!”

The blood rushed to her face. She held out her hands. ”Oh, forgive me! I heard bad news. I have been so troubled----”

”You forgot that I had asked you to be my wife!”

”Mr. Perry----”

”No, don't say another word, Miss Dunbar. I have had my answer. I knew you didn't love me, but I did not think I was so paltry that you would forget that I had offered to marry you.”

Lucy pressed her hands together, looking up at him miserably without a word. He walked down the path and leaned on the wall with his back to her. His very back was indignant.

Presently he turned. ”I will bid you goodby,” he said, with an effort at lofty courtesy, ”and I will leave my adieux for your friends with you.”

”Are you going--back to the States?” stammered Lucy.

”Yes, I am going back to the States,” he replied sternly. ”A man of merit there has his place, regardless of rank. Jem Perry can hold his head there as high as any beggarly prince. Farewell, Miss Dunbar.”

He strode down the path and disappeared. Lucy shook her head and cried from sheer wretchedness. She felt that she had been beaten to-day with many stripes.

Suddenly the bushes beside her rustled. ”Forgive me,” he said hoa.r.s.ely. She looked up and saw his red honest eyes. ”I behaved like a brute. Good-by, Lucy! I never loved any woman but you, and I never will.”

”Stay, stay!” she cried.

He heard her, but he did not come back.

CHAPTER VIII

Lucy was silent and dejected for a day or two, being filled with pity for Mr. Perry's ruined life. But when she saw his name in a list of outgoing pa.s.sengers on the Paris her heart gave a bound of relief.

Nothing more could now be done. That chapter was closed. There had been no other chapter of moment in her life, she told herself sternly.

Now, all the clouds had cleared away. It was a new day. She would begin again.

So she put on new clothes, none of which she had ever worn before, and tied back her curly hair with a fresh white ribbon, and came down to breakfast singing gayly.

Miss Vance gave her her roll and milk in silence, and frowning importantly, drew out a letter.

”Lucy, I have just received a communication from Prince Wolfburgh. He is in Bozen.”

”Here!” Lucy started up, glancing around like a chased hare.

Then she sat down again and waited. There was no other chapter, and the book was so blank!

”His coming is very opportune,” she said presently, gently.

”Oh! do YOU think so, my dear? Really! Well, I always have liked the young man. So simple. So secure of his social position. The Wolfburghs, I find, go back to the eleventh century. Mr. Perry had n.o.ble traits, but one never felt quite safe as to his nails or his grammar.”

”But the prince--the prince?” cried Jean.

”Oh, yes. Well, he writes--most deferentially. He begs for the honor of an interview with me this afternoon upon a subject of the most vital importance. He says, 'regarding you, as I do, in loco parentis to the hochgeboren Fraulein Dunbar.'” ”Hochgeboren!” said Lucy. ”My grandfather was a saddler. Tell him so, Miss Vance. Tell him the exact facts. I want no disclosures after----”

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