Part 8 (1/2)
But Paul was too moved to speak. These rapid changes were too much for him, greatly advanced though he had become in these short days since he had known her. He leant back in his chair, every nerve in his body quivering, his young fresh face almost pale.
”Paul,” she cooed plaintively, ”to-morrow I shall be reasonable again, perhaps, and human, but to-day I am capricious and wayward, and mustn't be teased. I want to read about Cupid and Psyche from this wonderful 'Golden a.s.s' of Apuleius--just a simple tale for a wet day--and you and--me!”
”Read then!” said Paul, resigned.
And she commenced in Latin, in a chanting, tender voice. Paul had forgotten most of the Latin he knew, but he remembered enough to be aware that this must be as easy as English to her as it flowed along in a rich rhythmic sound.
It soothed him. He seemed to be dreaming of flowery lands and running streams. After a while she looked up again, and then with one of her sudden movements like a graceful cat, she was beside him leaning from the back of his chair.
”Paul!” she whispered right in his ear, ”am I being wicked for you to-day? I cannot help it. The devil is in me--and now I must sing.”
”Sing then!” said Paul, maddened with again arising emotion.
She seized a guitar that lay near, and began in a soft voice in some language he knew not--a cadence of melody he had never heard, but one whose notes made strange quivers all up his spine. An exquisite pleasure of sound that was almost pain. And when he felt he could bear no more, she flung the instrument aside, and leant over his chair again--caressing his curls with her dainty fingers, and purring unknown strange words in his ear.
Paul was young and unlearned in many things. He was completely enthralled and under her dominion--but he was naturally no weakling of body or mind. And this was more than he could stand.
”_You_ mustn't be teased. My G.o.d! it is you who are maddening me!” he cried, his voice hoa.r.s.e with emotion. ”Do you think I am a statue, or a table, or chair--or inanimate like that tiger there? I am not, I tell you!” and he seized her in his arms, raining kisses upon her which, whatever they lacked in subtlety, made up for in their pa.s.sion and strength. ”Some day some man will kill you, I suppose, but I shall be your lover--first!”
The lady gasped. She looked up at him in bewildered surprise, as a child might do who sets a light to a whole box of matches in play. What a naughty, naughty toy to burn so quickly for such a little strike!
But Paul's young, strong arms held her close, she could not struggle or move. Then she laughed a laugh of pure glad joy.
”Beautiful, savage Paul,” she whispered. ”Do you love me? Tell me that?”
”Love you!” he said. ”Good G.o.d! Love you! Madly, and you know it, darling Queen.”
”Then,” said the lady in a voice in which all the caresses of the world seemed melted, ”then, sweet Paul, I shall teach you many things, and among them I shall teach you how--to--LIVE.”
And outside the black storm made the darkness fall early. And inside the half-burnt logs tumbled together, causing a cloud of golden sparks, and then the flames leapt up again and crackled in the grate.
CHAPTER VII
At dinner that night the lady came in after Paul was seated. She was all in black velvet, stately and dignified and fine. She pa.s.sed his chair and took her seat, not the faintest sign of recognition on her face. And although he was prepared for this, for some reason his heart sank for a moment. Her demeanour was the same as on the first night he had seen her, hardly raising her eyes, eating little of the most exquisite food, and appearing totally unconscious of her neighbours or their ways.
She caused a flutter of excitement at the English table, the only other party, except two old men in a corner, who had dined so late, and they were half-way through their repast before she began hers. Paul was annoyed to see how they stared--stared at _his_ lady. But what joy it was to sit there and realise that she was his--his very own! And only four nights ago he had been a rude stranger, too, criticising her every movement, and drinking too much port with annoyance over it all. And now his whole life was changed.
He saw with new eyes, and heard with new ears, even his casual observation was altered and sharpened, so that he noticed the texture of the cloth and the quality of the gla.s.s, and the shape of the room and its decoration.
And how insupportably commonplace the good English family seemed! That bread-and-b.u.t.ter miss with her pink cheeks and fluffy hair, without a hat! Women's hair should be black and grow in heavy waves. He was certain of that now. How like them to come into a foreign restaurant hatless, just because they were English and must impose their customs!
He sat and mused on it all, as he looked at his velvet-clad Queen. A sense of complete joy and satisfaction stealing over him, his wild excitement and emotion calmed for the time.
The delightful sensation of sharing a secret with her--a love-secret known only to themselves. Think, if these Philistines guessed at it even! their faces. And at this thought Paul almost laughed aloud.
With pa.s.sionate interest he absorbed every little detail about his lady. How exactly she knew what suited her. How refined and _grande dame_ and quiet it all was, and what an air of breeding and command she had in the poise of her little Greek head.
What did it matter what age she was, or of what nation? What did anything matter since she was his? And at that thought his heart began to beat again and cause him to speculate as to his evening.