Patsy Part 25

On such occasions the Princess dressed plainly, as befitting her position of exile, but it pleased her to array Patsy with a taste seldom seen in England. On days when they went to Windsor, where the Princesses made a pet of her, Patsy wore a dress of white muslin, simple enough, but trimmed with point lace, Vand.y.k.ed at the edges, and on her head a most charming Leghorn gipsy hat, with wreaths of small roses round the edge of the brim and a second row wreathed about the crown. The effect was all Patsy's heart could desire.

It chanced that, just as the carriage drove into Staines, the party in it became aware of a brilliant cavalcade riding towards them. The Princess whispered to Patsy, "The Dukes--look through them, my dear, and do not let yourself be overcome!"

Patsy had no idea of being overcome. She held her head well up, and sat beside the Princess with a pale face but steadfast eyes. The six royal brothers were riding three and three, the Regent being in the middle of the first rank on a splendid iron-grey charger. He had come from a review in Windsor Park with which he had been able to combine the monthly perfunctory visit to his mother and sisters. He was in a hussar uniform, extremely fantastic, the same in which he afterwards a.s.serted that he had commanded one of the cavalry divisions at Waterloo. He wore a diamond belt, which is not quite according to the regulations of the service. A diamond crown shone on his breast and the feather in his headgear was fixed with a diamond loop.

Behind came Cambridge and York and, on the side nearest to the carriage, the Duke of Lyonesse.

The Regent saluted the Princess and his brothers followed suit, but it was evident that their eyes were all upon Patsy, who fearlessly perused them as if they had been so many statues. As they rode past more than one of the suite turned his head, but of all the salutations the embarra.s.sed and most formal was that of Louis Raincy, who rode with my Lord Headford.

But Patsy was not to be pa.s.sed over. She waved her hand to him and called out briskly, "Good-day to you, Louis!"

Upon which he could do no less than turn in his saddle and salute her again, an action which evidently brought upon him a flood of questions from his companions. Presently, in answer to an urgent summons, Miss Aline, sitting with her back to the horses, could see Louis ride forward and place himself beside the Duke of York. The royal party were evidently full of curiosity and the Princess Elsa, smiling a little, said, "I should not wonder if some of these gentlemen find their way to Hanover Lodge before many days! You are not afraid, Patsy?"

"I am not afraid of any one," cried Patsy, instantly fierce. And she added with something of grat.i.tude in her voice, "Uncle Julian sent me to you, and I am sure that he knows what is best for me. I am quite safe with you!"

"Certainly, dear," said the Princess, "still it would be a great thing if we could tell these vultures that you are soon to be a Princess yourself!"

At which Patsy looked startled but did not reply. The Princess Elsa had never spoken so openly before. She had evidently determined to strike the hot iron.

"The Prince of Altschloss is a good man, a brave soldier, and would, I believe, make an excellent husband. He is devotedly in love with you and would make you the wife of a reigning prince. It would please me greatly--indeed, I may add that it would please your uncle and your father still more, if one day when these Dukes called to spy out the land, they should find Eitel before them, and affianced to you. I do not press you--think well over it, Patsy. It would be the safest and best solution for you, and when I leave England (as I must some day) we should be quite near neighbours."

Patsy was terribly perturbed. She did not care deeply for any man. She had liked to talk to Louis Raincy--at one time perhaps more than to any man. But in the background of her mind there had always lurked a warning of his instability.

Compared to Stair Garland, for instance, he was not to be depended upon.

She had seen him often riding with Mrs. Arlington in the park. He never left her side in a ball-room, and rumour was busy with their names.

Even the gentle old queen, who in her leisure moments liked (none better) to ease the tension of her mind with a spice of gossip, had said to her, "Miss Patsy, what is this I hear of your beau--old De Raincy's heir--that he is sticking like a burr to the skirts of the Arlington? I thought there was a marriage forward. From what I am told, little one, I should advise you to look after your property--that is, if you hold it of any value."

"Your Majesty," said Patsy, with very proper submission, yet with a twinkle in her eye, "we have a Scots proverb, 'He that will to Coupar, maun to Coupar'--which, being interpreted, means that if Louis wants to go to the Arlington, to the Arlington let him go--and for all I care, stop there!"

"It is a pity," sighed the Queen, "but these young men--ah, there is no advising them. I am sorry too, for the grief to his grandfather must be great. The Raincys have never been warm friends of our dynasty, but that is all over now--and forgotten on both sides. It would be well if you could do something for him."

She sat still, evidently expecting some confidence. For there was nothing in which Queen Charlotte took more interest than in the love affairs of the young people about her court. Princess Elsa signalled to Patsy to answer, and so finally she managed to say: "Your Majesty is very kind, but I have never been engaged to Louis de Raincy. He and I have been playmates all our lives, and I owe him some kindnesses which I shall not forget. But there is not and never has been more than that between us."

The Princess Elsa sat back with a sigh of relief, for she knew that some one of the circle who heard Patsy, would certainly repeat her words to the Prince of Altschloss.

So without exactly knowing how or why, it is certain that from this time forth, the people in the entourage of the Princess Elsa began to consider Miss Patricia Ferris as virtually betrothed to the hereditary ruler of Altschloss. He had even made his demand in form from the Princess, who, according to the Austrian etiquette, represented the young lady's absent father, and Princess Elsa had given him her entire permission to press his suit. Still more and better, she frequently took Miss Aline off and left him free to do it, though in any case Miss Aline was the last woman in the world to be a spoil-sport, even though her kind heart might ache for Louis Raincy.

On their next visit to Windsor Queen Charlotte took the Princess aside and pressed her, in her usual motherly fas.h.i.+on, on the subject.

"Of course," she said, "Prince Eitel is only the younger son of a cadet, and his way was cleared to the dukedom on the b.l.o.o.d.y day of Wagram, when his grand-uncle and three cousins were killed in the same charge. He came to the throne from round the corner. Still he is prince. He cannot help that, and I am in favour of people of our cla.s.s marrying _in_ their own cla.s.s--"

"Well, Aunt Charlotte," said the Princess, "I have, as you know, somewhat grave and personal reasons for not agreeing with you."

The Queen turned her face towards her niece. It was a kindly face, but infinitely sad and lined with more cares than fall to the lot of most women of her age. The ingrat.i.tude of sons, the death of daughters, the poor troubled husband, old and witless in the King Charles ground-floor suite, weeping for his lost eyesight or sitting smiling mirthlessly over his violin, had marked her. But in spite of all she had kept the cult of royalty.

Bloods should not mix. The sacred should not seek the profane.

"I know," she said, gently putting her hand out and patting the arm of the Princess, "Brunschweig was no light trial. But are you sure you would have been happier with your amba.s.sador?"

"Yes," said the Princess Elsa quickly, "I am certain--if he stamped upon me, if he killed me, I should be happier."

"You think so," said the Queen, "and I shall not try to make you think otherwise--"

"Because, Aunt Charlotte, neither you nor any one could do that. Julian is as faithful to-day as he was twenty years ago--as loyal, as ready to sacrifice himself. He is the one man to be depended upon."

"Ah, because he has remained your lover. But there is my husband. He is a good man. We have been happy these forty years--without a word, without a quarrel, and yet, when his wits are touched, whose name comes to his lips, whose hand does he feel when I stroke his brow?--not mine--not his old wife's, but that of a woman dead these many years, whom he knew before ever he saw me!"

"Ah," said the Princess, "but you were not wedded to a hulk of corruption, and when the dear King's words are wild, he is not responsible. You know that as well as I. At any rate there is Julian, and he and I have done our duty. But I am fond of Eitel. He at least can marry whom he likes. Patsy is a gentlewoman of unblemished lineage--older than his own--and if he can win her, at least it will keep my little Eitel from making the mistake which I made."

The Queen slowly nodded her head, thinking deeply.

"After all," she meditated, "Altschloss, though a respectable house, is neither Hapsburg nor Hanover, and a new man like Eitel, come in by a turn of the dice, may please himself--but--well (here she smiled) if you have said 'Whom Elsa hath blessed let no man put asunder'--I suppose there is no more to be done!"

"I wish it were as certain as all that," sighed the Princess, "but, in fact, I am not at all sure about Patsy!"

"What," cried the Queen, surprised out of the pensiveness of her matronly gravity, "surely you do not mean to say that the girl would refuse a prince--a reigning prince?"

Elsa shook her head sadly.

"I do not know," she acknowledged, "she watches everything with those big black eyes of hers, and she smiles. She says that one man or another is much the same to her, and I can only hope for the best. But as a matter of fact I have never dared to put the offer of the Prince clearly before her. It seems better to accustom her gradually to the idea!"

"And the young man himself--your Eitel of Altschloss does not come of a very patient race--I remember an uncle of his, but no matter--what does he say? How does he take it? Has he spoken to your little Scot?"

"Frankly, I do not know," said the Princess. "I should judge not, by the excellence of their comrades.h.i.+p."

"Is it wounded pride because of the young man of her country--that foolish boy of old De Raincy's? He is always, as I hear, at the flounces of the Arlington."

"I don't think Patsy cares," said the Princess. "If she showed a preference, it would make it easier for me. I should begin to understand her. Little Miss Aline Minto, the chatelaine of Ladykirk, who is with us, may understand her better, but for me I own myself beaten. I cannot get a serious answer out of the girl. If Julian were here--"

"And why is not Julian here?" said the Queen. "I understand that in your position--but, after all, with Brunschweig living as he is doing, I do not see that you need deprive yourself of his occasional advice."

"Thank you, Aunt Charlotte," said the Princess, stooping and kissing her aunt's cheek, "I shall remember. But you see, Julian killed the Regent's friend Lord Wargrove in a duel for helping one of his companions to carry off Patsy. They charge him also with wounding the Duke of Lyonesse, but that he did not do. Still, he gets the credit for it with the Carlton House set, and they have a warrant out against him. Erskine has seen to that. He cannot come to London, at least not in the meantime."

"Ah," said the Queen, "so your friend delivered us from that rascal Wargrove. That was one service to good order, though of course it is wrong to duel. It is a pity that he could not be here now. If you do not take care, that little gipsy of yours will slip through your fingers. I know what happens to young ladies who flout at princes. There is always another man in the background!"

"Aunt Charlotte, I am quite sure you are wrong about Patsy," said the Princess.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE LOST FOLK'S ACRE

It was a high day and a holiday at the Bothy of the Wild of Blairmore--a high day though a short one--one of the shortest of all the year, though by this time it was well into January. But that made little difference on our misty moors. There the frozen sea-fog bound us and the wind, when there was one, stung extraordinarily bitter.

Sea-fog breezes yellowish (let this be marked), but the mist of the fresh water moors is white with iridescent circles where the low winter sun is trying to peep through. Little sounds carry far. You can hear wild fowl calling far up in the brumous smother which hides the lift.