Part 8 (2/2)
AN OUTING--A REUNION
The Secretary of the Legation at Was.h.i.+ngton was surprised to receive a letter from the Governor-General of Morovenia requesting him to find apartments for the Princess Kalora and a small retinue. The letter explained that the Governor-General's daughter had been given a long sea-voyage and a.s.signed to a period of residence within the quiet boundaries of Was.h.i.+ngton, in the hope that her health might be improved.
The Secretary looked up the list of hotels and boarding-houses. He did not deem it advisable to send a convalescent to one of the large and busy hotels; neither did he think it proper to reserve rooms for her at an ordinary boarding-house, where she would sit at the same table with department-employees and congressmen. So he compromised on a very exclusive hotel patronized by legislators who had money of their own, by many of the t.i.tled attaches of the emba.s.sies, and by families that came during the season with the hope of edging their way into official society. He explained to the manager of the hotel that the Princess Kalora was an invalid, would require secluded apartments, and probably would not care to meet any of the other persons living at the hotel.
Within a week after the rooms had been reserved the invalid drove up to the Legation to thank the Secretary for his kindness. Now, the Secretary had lived in modern capitals for many years, was trained in diplomacy, and had schooled himself never to appear surprised. But the Princess Kalora fairly bowled him over. He had pictured her as a wan and waxen creature, who would be carried to the hotel in a closed carriage or ambulance, there to recline by the windowside and look out at the rustling leaves. He had decided, after hours of deliberation, that the etiquette of the situation would be for some member of the Legation to call upon her about once a week and take flowers to her.
And here was the invalid, bounding out of a coupe, tripping up the front steps and bursting in upon him like an untamed Amazon from the prairies of Nebraska. She wore a tailor-made suit of dark material, a sailor hat, tan gloves with big welts on the back and stout, low-heeled Oxfords.
This was the young woman who had come five thousand miles to improve her health! This was the child of the Orient, and in the Orient, woman is a hothouse flower. This was the timid young recluse to whom the soft-spoken diplomats were to carry a few roses about once a week.
Why had she called upon the Secretary? First, to thank him for having engaged the rooms; second, to invite him to take her out to a country club and teach her the game of golf. She had heard people at the hotel talking about golf. The game had been strongly commended to her by a congressman's daughter, with whom she had ascended to the top of the Was.h.i.+ngton Monument.
When the Secretary, having recovered his breath, asked if she felt strong enough to attempt such a vigorous game, she was moved to silvery laughter. She told what she had accomplished during three short days in Was.h.i.+ngton. She had attended two matinees with Popova, had gone motoring into the Virginia hills, had inspected all the public buildings, and studied every shop-window in Pennsylvania Avenue. The Secretary knew that all this outdoor freedom was not usually accorded a young woman of his native domain, and yet he felt that he had no authority to restrain her or correct her. She was a princess, and he was relatively a subordinate, and, when she requested him to take her to the country club, he gave an embarra.s.sed consent.
”You have been in America a long time?” she asked.
”About three years.”
”You have met many people--that is, the important people?”
”All of them are important over here. Those that are not very wealthy or very eminent are getting ready to be.”
”I am wondering if you could tell me something about a young man I met abroad. I met him only once, and I have quite forgotten his name.”
”I'm afraid I haven't met him.”
”He is rather good-looking and has--well, red hair; not rusty red, but a sort of golden red.”
”There are millions of red-haired young men in America.”
”Please don't discourage me. Now I remember the name of his home. He lived in Pennsa--Pennsylvania, that's it.”
”Pennsylvania is about four times as large as Morovenia.”
”But he is very wealthy. He talked as if he had come into millions.”
”I can well believe it. The millionaires of Pennsylvania are even as the sands of the sea or the leaves of the forest.”
”He owns some sort of mills or factories--where they make steel.”
”Every millionaire in Pennsylvania has something to do with steel. Now, if you were searching in that state for a young man who is penniless and has nothing to do with the steel industry, possibly I might be of some service to you. The whole area of Pennsylvania is simply infested with millionaires. Not all of them are red-headed, but they will be, before Congress gets through with them.”
This playful lapse into the American vernacular was quite lost upon the Princess Kalora, who was sitting very still and gazing in a most disconsolate manner at the Secretary.
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