Part 23 (1/2)
Mr. Totten betrayed no emotion save amus.e.m.e.nt. Miss Guile was watching through half-closed eyes. There was a noticeable stiffening of the prim figure of Mrs. Gaston.
”I've no doubt Mr. Blithers can afford to buy the most expensive of toys for his only child. You Americans go in for the luxuries of life. What could be more extravagant than the purchase of a royal lap-dog? The only drawback I can suggest is that the Prince might turn out to be a cur, and then where would Mr. Blithers be?”
”It is more to the point to ask where Miss Blithers would be, Mr.
Totten,” said Miss Guile, with a smile that caused the fierce old warrior to afterwards declare to Dank that he never had seen a lovelier girl in all his life.
”Ah, but we spoke of the Prince as a lap-dog or a cur, Miss Guile, not as a watch-dog,” said he.
”I see,” said Miss Guile, after a moment. ”He wouldn't sleep with one eye open. I see.”
”The lap of luxury is an enviable resting-place. I know of no prince who would despise it.”
”But a wife is sometimes a thing to be despised,” said she.
”Quite true,” said Mr. Totten. ”I've no doubt that the Prince of Graustark will despise his wife, and for that reason will be quite content to close both eyes and let her go on searching for her heart's desire.”
”She would be his Princess. Could he afford to allow his love of luxury to go as far as that?”
”Quite as justifiably, I should say, as Mr. Blithers when he delivers his only child into--into bondage.”
”You were about to use another term.”
”I was, but I thought in time, Miss Guile.”
R. Schmidt sauntered briskly past at this juncture, looking neither to the right nor left. They watched him until he disappeared down the deck.
”I think Mr. Schmidt is a perfectly delightful young man,” said Mrs.
Gaston, simply because she couldn't help it.
”You really think he will marry Miss Blithers, Mr. Totten?” ventured Miss Guile.
”He? Oh, I see--the Prince?” Mr. Totten came near to being no diplomat. ”How should I know, Miss Guile?”
”Of course! How _should_ you know?” she cried.
Mr. Totten found something to interest him in the printed sheet and proceeded to read it with considerable avidity. Miss Guile smiled to herself and purposely avoided the shocked look in Mrs. Gaston's eyes.
”Bouillon at last,” cried the agitated duenna, and peremptorily summoned one of the tray-bearing stewards. ”I am famished.”
Evidently Mr. Totten did not care for his mid-morning refreshment, for, with the most courtly of smiles, he arose and left them to their bouillon.
”Here comes Mr. Schmidt,” whispered Mrs. Gaston excitedly, a few moments later, and at once made a movement indicative of hasty departure.
”Sit still,” said Miss Guile peremptorily.
R. Schmidt again pa.s.sed them by without so much as a glance in their direction. There was a very sweet smile on Miss Guile's lips as she closed her eyes and lay back in her chair. Once, twice, thrice, even as many as six times R. Schmidt strode rapidly by their corner, his head high and his face aglow.
At last a queer little pucker appeared on the serene brow of the far from drowsy young lady whose eyes peeped through half closed lids.
Suddenly she threw off her rug and with a brief remark to her companion arose and went to her cabin. Mrs. Gaston followed, not from choice but because the brief remark was in the form of a command.