Affairs of State Part 28

"The tradition?"

"Of royalty--of divine right. We must do nothing to spoil the tradition, or weaken it, or our people may find out that we are not really necessary, after all, just as the Americans have done."

Susie glanced at him to see if he was in earnest; but he appeared to be entirely so.

"Do the exceptions mind being looked askance at?" she questioned.

"No, I do not think they mind in the least. Most of them are too busy to pay any heed to what other people are thinking about them. Besides, the cause of the exception is usually a woman, who takes up most of the exception's leisure time."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"Let me explain. You see, when one of us marries a woman of his own cla.s.s--'Prinzessen, Comtessen, Serene English Altessen,' as Svengali called them--he usually gets a partner more--ah--hidebound, I think you call it--than himself--a greater stickler for precedent and tradition and position and etiquette and elegant leisure, and all that sort of thing. Whatever liberal ideas he may have had, he finds he must abandon or, at least, suppress, if there is to be peace between his wife and him. It is only those who are so fortunate as to meet and win exactly the right woman _out_ of their cla.s.s who get the incentive. You understand, now?"

"Yes," said Susie, with a queer catch in her voice. "Yes, I think I do."

"So," he added, with a little bitter laugh, "you see why we others look askance at these exceptions. In the first place they have preferred to step down out of their rank for a wife--that deals a blow at the tradition, and every blow weakens it; in the second place, they have left some n.o.ble lady husbandless, for your n.o.ble ladies seldom so far forget their rank as to marry out of it, though that may be because the men never permit them to--again an injury to us as a cla.s.s; and, finally, they are mixing with the world, they are meeting other men face to face, as equals, they are claiming no merit because of birth, no authority because of rank; they are, perhaps, even working with their hands. Whereas our business is to keep aloof from the world, to maintain a barrier of caste between ourselves and other men, for they must not suspect that we are as imperfect as they--that we have the same appet.i.tes and pa.s.sions, the same defects and meannesses. Our business is to rule over them, to require their obedience because G.o.d so wills it.

We tremble when we see the apostates cast aside their rank and descend into the world's arena, for we fear that the people, finding them at close view only human, may come at last to believe that the right by which we rule is not, after all, divine. Then they will tear down the barrier of caste, strip us of the privileges of rank, and proclaim the absurdity that all men are equal. And I might add, we are jealous of the exceptions, because they are happy. Marriages of state are seldom love matches; the kind which furnish the incentives are always so."

To all of which Susie had listened with bated breath, only glancing up once or twice to study her companion's face. It was a lifting of the curtain, a revelation of the heart, which left her deeply moved.

"You don't seem to care for the tradition," she said, at last.

"Oh, yes, I do; it would be untrue to pretend otherwise. Only, it has occurred to me quite recently that merely to inherit a position is not quite enough. A man should try to deserve it"

"And you're going to try?" asked Susie, looking at him with something very like adoration in her eyes.

"I am going to try--yes," he answered. "But I shall need help--I am afraid I should not make a success of it by myself."

And then he fell silent, for they had reached the end of the promenade, where the others joined them.

CHAPTER XVII

The d.u.c.h.ess to the Rescue

It may be that Lord Vernon had been so fortunate as to find a topic of conversation equally absorbing; at any rate, Nell entered the hotel with her sister rather subdued and tremulous, and they mounted to their rooms in silence. A week before, they would probably have thrown themselves into each other's arms and kissed each other and cuddled each other and cried over each other, without precisely knowing why, or, at least, without troubling to put the reason into words. But the events of the past few days had, imperceptibly, wrought a change in their relations.

An impalpable veil had come between them, a subtle dissonance in point of view. They were pledged, as it were, to rival interests.

A woman who has no other confidante will, invariably, seek counsel and sympathy of her own reflected self; and if so it was in this case, for each of our two heroines went straight to her room, and locked the door, and sat down before her gla.s.s, and, chin in hands, communed long and earnestly with the image pictured there, gazing deep into its eyes, and thinking unutterable thoughts, which completely defy transcription.

At the same moment, to Archibald Rushford, sitting immersed in his morning newspaper, wholly unsuspicious of all this, the Prince of Markeld's card was handed. It may be noted in pa.s.sing that, with the influx of patrons to the house, the American had found it necessary to retire to the privacy of his own apartment in order to enjoy the paper undisturbed.

"All rights show him up," he said, when he had glanced at the card; and almost immediately the Prince himself appeared.

Rushford started up with hand outstretched.

"Glad to see you, Prince," he said. "I was just figuring on looking you up and wondering how I'd better go about it--I didn't quite know what the etiquette of the thing was."

The Prince laughed.

"The etiquette is simple." he answered. "You have only to come to my door and knock."

"Refreshingly democratic!" and Rushford's eyes danced. "That would appeal to my countrymen. But my ignorance was natural enough. You see, we never have the chance, at home, to hobn.o.b with Highnesses. That's the reason so many of us come abroad. But we're not the real thing--the genuine, simon-pure American stays at home and looks after his business."

"And no doubt gets along very well without Highnesses," laughed Markeld, gripping the proffered fingers with a warmth which pleased their owner.

The latter found himself admiring, too, the erect figure, the clean face, the clear eyes; he told himself with pleasure that the Prince looked as well by daylight as by gaslight--a tribute to his youth and the way he had employed it.

"Sit down, won't you?" he asked cordially.

"Yes, the people of the States manage to worry along some way without any n.o.bility. In fact, they've rather got a prejudice against that sort of thing. You see, the only Highnesses they've had to judge by are the fortune-hunters who come over after our girls. Now I've always believed that it isn't any fairer to judge European n.o.bility by those specimens than it is to judge us Americans by the expatriated idiots one finds here in Europe--it's like judging a bin of apples by the rotten ones."

"You are doubtless right," agreed the Prince, who had followed these remarks with an anxiety almost painful. "And I am glad to hear you speak in that way. I infer that you do not object to international marriages."

"Not at all, per se. Other things being equal, I see no reason why a Highness shouldn't make as good a husband as a plain American. There's only one reason for marriage, sir--mutual affection. Where that exists, nothing else matters. Where it doesn't exist--well, marriage becomes simply a convenient arrangement for perpetuating a family, or restoring its estates, or accomplishing some less laudable purpose. But there--shut me off--don't let me preach at you!"

"No, no," protested the Prince. "All that you say interests me deeply--more deeply than you suspect. In fact, I hope to marry an American girl myself."

"Ah," said Mr. Rushford, swallowing with sudden difficulty. "Oh! You mean--"

"I mean that I wish to propose to you for the hand of your daughter,"

explained the Prince, quite simply.

Rushford was not a man easily astonished, but there was no denying his amazement at this moment. Despite his playful words to Susie, he had never really suspected the direction in which events were trending; besides, the lightning-flash, even though expected, is always a shock.

But the Prince bore his gaze imperturbably.

"I do not wonder that you are surprised," he said. "You have known me so short a time. But we Markelds always know our own minds. I have thought the matter over very carefully and I am sure that I am acting wisely.

Whether you would act wisely in giving her to me is another question, for though I am a Prince, I am a very small one, though with income sufficient, I trust, to maintain a wife at least comfortably. I shall be glad to send my solicitors to talk it over with you, and explain anything about me which you may care to know--"

Mr. Rushford's face had gradually relaxed during this harangue, until it was positively smiling.

"My dear sir," he interrupted, "if there's anything about you I want to know, I'll ask _you_. But that is hardly necessary as yet; for you're taking hold of the matter by the wrong end. We of America don't give our daughters away, they choose their own husbands--subject, of course, to their parents' approval. Now, my daughter--by the way, you haven't specified which one you're after."

"It is Miss Sue that I want," said the Prince.

"Ah--Susie. Well, she's perfectly capable of choosing for herself, and will probably insist upon doing so. Have you spoken to her on the subject?"

"Oh, most certainly not!" stammered the Prince.

"Well, suppose you take it up with her," suggested Mr. Rushford, encouragingly. "If she wants you, it'll be all right with me. I may even say that I'll be very glad to see you get her--I like you better than I ever imagined I should like a n.o.bleman."

The Prince was on his feet in an instant with outstretched hands.

"Thank you, my dear sir!" he cried. "A thousand thanks! I have, then, your permission to speak to Miss Rushford?"