Part 15 (1/2)
_Later._
I have pa.s.sed the afternoon very quietly, for the news of Charlton's death today has shocked me so. Poor old fellow! Accordingly I only left a few cards officially and then went and sat a long time in the Church of the Jesuits where vespers were being sung. The building was outlined with candles, the effect fine, solemn and religious. The aisles were thronged with people while organ-music and singing rose and fell. Then I hurried back to my fireside, through the narrow crowded streets, across the Corso with its endless files of carriages, for the dread chill of Rome came on, and the men and women wrapped their cloaks about them.
Now that poor Charlton is gone, I am sending in my resignation to the President. I have decided to go into business, for a very good offer has turned up that I hope you will approve. Moreover, the Amba.s.sador himself dispatched his own resignation yesterday. Mine will follow close upon its heels ”to take effect at the earliest convenience of the Department of State,” and I added ”an earnest request to be relieved of my duties at the first opportunity as private matters of an anxious and urgent nature call me home.”
If the Department either loves me much or hates me much, it will let me off promptly. My feelings wouldn't be hurt if a cablegram should come marked _urgent_, and stating, ”Your resignation accepted with pleasure, and to take effect _at once_,” the last two words underlined. I'd knock over the tables and chairs, slam the doors, and go home so quickly that one wouldn't have time to say ”Jack Robinson!”
Then I would cry, ”Gilet! Gilet! Where in thunder are you, Gilet? Pack my things, throw them in helter skelter, pellmell, all in a heap. It doesn't matter--nothing matters, for we are going home!
Hip-hip-hurrah!” I am all excited at the mere thought. And if anyone wondered at this indecent haste (”Haste which mars all decency of act”), I'd say, ”I am going back to my love,” and they would never blame me.
POLLY TO A. D.
_New York, January._
Your photograph is beside me, and I have kissed it so many times today and every day that it would be quite worn out if it weren't for the gla.s.s in front. The separation has made my love for you grow stronger and finer, and shows me clearly that it is you and you only I love and want. The weeks since we became engaged have found me very happy in the knowledge that there was someone who would always take care of me, someone whom I would look up to and respect. I am behaving so well for me that soon I shall no longer be known as Polly the Pagan.
I was very sorry to hear of Lord Ronald Charlton's death, for I know you must miss him greatly. So you have sent in your resignation.
Splendid! I shall expect you shortly. Cable me when you leave.
Auntie says I ought not to announce my engagement here until you can set a definite date to return. Won't you do that for me?
A. D. TO POLLY
_Rome, January._
Fi, fo, fum! I should indeed like to be at ”hum.” The days are becoming longer, and so I find my only happiness in thinking that before they begin to shorten again, I shall have come to you, my angel, to love and to hold and to cherish you forever. But meantime my letters are blue because I am blue, and I am a deep cerulean because you are so far off. Why, being away from you is enough to make me turn into a box of indigo. Blue indeed--I am Black!
To console myself I read and re-read your letters and daydream about the future. Yes, I shall come and as soon as the State Department will let me. It won't be long now--not long, though I cannot as yet set a date. I think May would be the prettiest time of the whole year to be married in, and then go (as you suggest) to Black Horse Farm, though n.o.body must know; afterwards we'll cruise slowly South down through the Spanish Main, across the Equator, skirting the coast of Guiana, past Brazil. We'll round the Horn together and see if we can find the Enchanted Isles and other heavenly ineffable places. What do you think of this plan, my darling?
Meantime, I have only your picture, as you have mine. In case you may like to see the arrangement of my habitation, I have sketched it for you. The little cross is where my altar is placed, the point to which your devotee turns, not twice or thrice or four times a day, as do the Mahometans toward their place of wors.h.i.+p, but constantly in prayer and thanksgiving. Your photograph is my Mecca and you are my little Pagan G.o.ddess, part nymph, part naughty elfin sprite, and part some winged flitting creature out of a fairy mythology not as yet discovered. But here in this room you are my Lares and Penates--you are my Love.
Last night I said goodbye to your picture, and went off to the Court Ball, where I saw many of our fair compatriots. It was a fine sight.
It makes me think of what Mr. Dooley said, ”at coort rayciptions th'
Amba.s.sadure iv England wore th' gorgeous unyform iv his station, th'
Amba.s.sadure iv France jingled with medals, th' American Amba.s.sadure looked like a detictive at a fancy ball.” Three sides of the great room were lined with rows of people who all bowed and curtseyed as the King and Queen entered, while the orchestra played the Royal March.
The Queen danced in the Quadrille of Honor, and after that the music struck up the first waltz and the moment arrived when, it may interest you to know, I opened the Ball!
The Grand Master of Ceremonies asked me to dance with his daughter, and so, bang! out in front of all the people I walked on my trembling legs, bowed to her Majesty, and went across and asked the signorina.
Round and round the room we spun while all gazed upon us; at last some others took the floor and the ball was on! It was about the most trying thing that I have ever done; in fact we almost danced down the King and the wife of the Prime Minister, and a few other dignitaries who stood in our parabolic way. After things got started, I tried to dance with all the American girls present but it was warm work. The Queen and Mona Lisa, who has come back to Rome, to Peppi's intense joy--but don't tell your aunt--were probably the two most remarkable women there, both beautifully dressed, and they looked at each other, as ladies will. My last Court Ball!