One Day Part 14

Paul caught her to him, and their lips melted in a clinging kiss.

At last she drew away from his embrace.

"The glitter of the moonlight and the music of the wind-maddened waves must have gone to my brain!" She laughed merrily, pulled his face down to hers for a last swift kiss, and ran from him before he could detain her.

The next morning they met for a brief moment alone.

Opal shook hands with the Boy in her most perfunctory manner.

Paul, after a moment's silent contemplation of her troubled face, bent over her, saying, "Have I offended you, Opal? Are you angry with me?"

She opened her eyes wide and asked with the utmost innocence "For what?"

Paul was disconcerted. "Last night!" he said faintly.

She colored, painfully.

"No, Paul, listen! I don't blame you a bit!--not a bit! A man would be a downright fool not to take--what he wanted---- But if you want to be--friends with me, you'll just forget all about--last night--or at any rate, ignore it, and never refer to it again."

He extended his hand, and she placed hers in it for the briefest possible instant.

And then their _tete-a-tete_ was interrupted, and they sat down for their last breakfast at sea.

Opal Ledoux was not visible again until the Lusitania docked in New York, when she waved her _companion de voyage_ a smiling but none the less reluctant _au revoir_!

But Paul was too far away to see the tears in her eyes, and only remembered the smile.

CHAPTER XI

New York's majestic greatness and ceaseless, tireless activity speedily engrossed the Boy and opened his eager eyes to a wider horizon than he had yet known. There was a new influence in the whir and hum of this metropolis of the Western world that set the wheels of thought to a more rapid motion, and keyed his soul to its highest tension.

It was not until his first letter from the homeland had come across the waters that he paused to wonder what the new factor in his life meant for his future. He had not allowed his reason to a.s.sert itself until the force of circ.u.mstances demanded that he look his soul in the face, and learn whither he was drifting. Paul was no coward, but he quailed before the ominous clouds that threatened the happiness of himself and the girl he loved.

For now he knew that he loved Opal Ledoux. It was Fate. He had guessed it at the first sound of her voice; he had felt it at the first glance of her eye; and he had known it beyond the peradventure of a doubt at the first touch of her lips.

Yet this letter from his kingdom was full of suggestions of duties to be done, of responsibilities to be a.s.sumed, of good still to be brought out of much that was petty and low, and of helpless, miserable human beings who were so soon to be dependent upon him.

"I will make my people happy," he thought. "Happiness is the birthright of every man--be he peasant or monarch." And then the thought came to him, how could he ever succeed in making them truly happy, when he himself had so sorely missed the way! There was only one thing to do, he knew that--both for Opal's sake and for his own--and that was to go far away, and never see the face again that had bewitched him so.

Perhaps, if he did this, he might forget the experience that was, after all, only an episode in a man's life and--other men forget! He might learn to be calmly happy and contented with his Princess. It was only natural for a young man to make love to a pretty girl, he thought, and why should he be any exception? He had taken the good the G.o.ds provided, as any live man would--now he could go his way, as other men did, and--forget! Why not? And yet the mere thought of it cast such a gloom over his spirits that he knew in his heart his philosophic attempt to deceive himself was futile and vain. He might run away, of course--though it was hardly like him to do that--but he would scarcely be able to forget.

And then Verdayne joined him with an open note in his hand--a formal invitation from Gilbert Ledoux for them to dine with him in his Fifth Avenue house on the following evening. He wished his family to meet the friends who had so pleasantly attracted himself and his daughter on shipboard.

Was it strange how speedily the Boy's resolutions vanished? Run away!

Not he!

"Accept the invitation, Father Paul, by all means!"

It was a cordial party in which Paul Verdayne and his young companion found themselves on the following evening--a simple family gathering, graciously presided over by Opal's stepmother.

Gilbert Ledoux's wife was one of those fashion-plate women who strike one as too artificial to be considered as more than half human. You wonder if they have also a false set of emotions to replace those they wore out in their youth--_c'est a dire_ if they ever had any! Paul smiled at the thought that Mr. Ledoux need have no anxiety over the virtue of his second wife--whatever merry dance the first might have led him!

Opal was not present when the gentlemen were announced, and the bevy of aunts and uncles and cousins were expressing much impatience for her presence--which Paul Zalenska echoed fervently in his heart. It was truly pleasant--this warm blood-interest of kinship. He liked the American clannishness, and he sighed to think of the utter lack of family affection in his own life.

The drawing-room, where they were received, was furnished in good taste, the Boy thought. The French touch was very prominent--the blend of color seemed to speak to him of Opal. Yes, he liked the room. The effect grew on one with the charm of the real home atmosphere that a dwelling place should have. But he wasn't so much interested in that, after all! In fact, it was rather unsatisfactory--without Opal! These people were _her_ people and, of course, of more than ordinary interest to him on her account, but still--

And at last, when the Boy was beginning to acknowledge himself slightly bored, and to resent the familiar footing on which he could see the Count de Roannes already stood in the family circle, Opal entered, and the gloomy, wearisome atmosphere seemed suddenly flooded with sunlight.

She came in from the street, unconventionally removing her hat and gloves as she entered.

"Where have you been so long, Opal?" asked Mrs. Ledoux, with considerable anxiety.

"At the Colony Club, _ma mere_--I read a paper!"

"_Mon Dieu!_" put in the Count, in an amused tone. "On what subject?"

"On 'The Modern Ethical Viewpoint,' _Comte_," she answered, nodding her little head sagely. "It was very convincing! In fact, I exploded a bomb in the camp that will give them all something sensational to talk about till--till--the next scandal!"

The Count gave a low chuckle of appreciation, while Mr. Ledoux asked, seriously, "But to what purpose, daughter?"

"Why, papa, don't you know? I had to teach Mrs. Stuyvesant Moore, Mrs.

Sanford Wyckoff, and several other old ladies how to be good!"

And in the general laugh that followed, she added, under her breath, "Oh, the irony of life!"

Paul watched her in a fever of boyish jealousy as she pa.s.sed through the family circle, bestowing her kisses left and right with impartial favor.

She made the rounds slowly, conscientiously, and then, with an air of supreme indifference, moved to the Boy's side.

He leaned over her.

"Where are my kisses?" he asked softly.

She clasped her hands behind her back, child-fashion, and looked up at him, a coquettish daring in her eyes.

"Where did you put them last?" she demanded.

"You ought to know!"

"True--I ought. But, as a matter of fact, I haven't the slightest idea.

It depends altogether upon what girl you saw last."