Polly the Pagan Part 21

Although this letter may go by the same steamer that I sail on, yet I can't help writing and sending you my love.

POLLY TO A. D.

_En route, May._

A. D., dearest, how exciting it must be for you about now, sighting from the steamer deck that low-lying Long Island sh.o.r.e, Sandy Hook, the channel, and beyond them, the beautiful bay. I can imagine your father going to meet you on the busy, snubnosed, important little tug,--but then, I think of so many things happening, for while we were camping and your letters stopped, "thinks" were all I had to live on.

We are flying at sixty miles an hour, nearer and nearer to you. After days of silence I found your two wonderful letters waiting for me when we got back to civilization. The clerk at the hotel said Aunt had given orders to hold them. I wonder if she did this on purpose, for surely they could have been sent in to us by a guide. The Prince was with me when I made my inquiries; I saw him trying to suppress a smile. But he does not like my ignoring him and he is getting a bit ugly. When I broke the news of Peppi's marriage to Mona Lisa, both he and Aunt seemed disturbed, and Boris acted quite upset, and as if he had lost an ally. I left them talking it over. He certainly has Aunt hypnotized. My twin wagered he would try for her hand next.

Checkers and Sybil spend their time on the train shamelessly making love and telling me I must begin to inform Aunt about the wedding. I screwed up my courage an hour ago and began, "The Rector says he'll perform the ceremony, Aunt--" but she broke in with "Whose ceremony?"

"Mine and A. D.'s," I continued, trying to look determined.

"Humph!" she said, and closed her eyes, pretending to go to sleep.

When she awoke, I tackled her again. "I've engaged the church, Aunt,"

quoth I.

"What for?" said she.

"For the thirty-first," I replied blandly while Checkers snickered.

"What are you talking about?" and by now Aunt was truly cross.

"The same thing," I sighed, "our wedding."

She muttered something about that ceremony never coming off and departed for the observation car to join the Prince. But she looked worried.

Checkers egged me on to begin again when she re-appeared. "As I was saying, Aunt, when we were interrupted, everything's all ready, you know. Checkers will give me away. Sybil is to be maid of honor--she's to wear white lace and carry Lady Battersea roses--and the decorations are to be wine-red azaleas--"

"Not another word!" she snapped, and I drew a long breath and stopped for a few minutes to get ready for the next attack. After a pause, "The thirty-first's the day, you know," I observed casually. Aunt blinked.

"The wedding day," piped up my brother. "Our Polly's!"

"How about Boris?" she inquired. "You are a little fool not to become a princess."

I ignored this remark and continued, "Ricci is going to sing and St.

Laurent will be at the organ and--" I found I was addressing an empty chair, for my relative had stalked off once more.

The next opportunity another bolt was shot at her. "My wedding dress is ordered, and it's a beauty! The veil will be four yards--"

"Porter!" shouted Aunt, and as that coffee-colored individual stopped short, she started him on a long explanation of the route ahead of us, while I withdrew, baffled and brooding, to re-read your letters. How am I going to bring my guardian around finally?

Later I began again, "I think the reception at the house after the ceremony should not be very large," this apropos of nothing, "for by the thirty-first a good many people will have left town, though, of course they'd run up for a wedding like ours,--"

"Are you crazy?" she demanded. "We shan't be home till the twenty-eighth, and you can't get your invitations engraved in time, let alone sending them out."

Checkers and Sybil drew near. "They're all done and sent!" we chorused.

"I mailed part of them!" proclaimed my brother.

"I, too!" piped up Sybil.

"When was all this?" cried Aunt.

"The day we left New York, so you see, you really can't do anything about it," Checkers continued politely.

Aunt turned purple. "I don't believe a word of it, and I shall not countenance it," whereupon she stamped her foot. And that's the situation now, dear.

A. D. TO POLLY

_Washington, May._

Behold me, dear, on my native soil, hungrily awaiting a love letter from you, even though I am a little ahead of my schedule. I didn't cable, in order to surprise you, but nevertheless I hoped you might guess the steamer from my letters. Father was on hand to greet me but I was disappointed when I dashed up the gang plank not to see you on the wharf and later to learn from your butler at the house you were still hundreds of miles away. Then I came on to Washington at once to report. All, everybody--customs-officers, collectors, bank-cashiers, down to the smallest clerk in the Department, when I told them the news, congratulated me heartily and added good wishes till I was as happy as I could possibly be without you.

As soon as I hear you have arrived I will take the train to New York and go to the Waldorf. Almost a year ago we began to love each other, though the world did not know, and we kept our secret to ourselves.

Don't worry. Everything will be all right. Aunt will have to come round.

POLLY TO A. D.

_En route, May._

Dearest! Hurrah! You have arrived and we have just left Montreal on our way to New York. Apparently Aunt left word for our mail to be forwarded there, for when we got to the hotel, the clerk produced simply a bushel-basketful. Of course you know what they all were,--acceptances for the wedding! It was the last crushing blow. We left her alone with them in her room, heaps in her lap, piles scattered at her feet, and our vanquished relative sitting in their midst like Caius Marius on the ruins of Carthage. A. D., has she definitely succ.u.mbed, I wonder?--She remarked I was a stubborn little heathen.

A few minutes ago, just before we crossed the border, the strangest thing happened. Two officials came on board the train and began to go through it, car by car, asking the names of the pa.s.sengers, staring into their faces, and making hasty rummages in their luggage. When they came near us, the Prince started violently, then sauntered over and sat down beside me without saying a word. His face was like chalk.

I inquired what the trouble was and if they were looking for anyone in particular. They said a foreigner had been discovered doing a very clever bit of rascality--stealing valuable old Masters from the museums in several large cities, and leaving such admirable imitations in their places that the theft hadn't been detected for some time, and no one could tell just how he had been operating. But certain letters had helped furnish clues, and they had reason to think the man was on the train.

Aunt called out, "All these people are in my party. We've been camping," and off started the official. As he moved away, he said to his a.s.sistant, "No, I don't believe Kosloff is on this train." It was my turn to look at the Prince. _Kosloff was the name on his letters!_

After the officials went out, I walked off astounded. Dear A. D., what _should_ I have done? He is even worse than we thought, isn't he?

TELEGRAM TO A. D.

_Care of the Department of State, Washington, May._