Polly the Pagan Part 17

PRINCE BORIS TO POLLY

_Rome, March._

_Dushenka moya_, you do not know what these little words mean? Then you cannot forbid that I call you that. Long time I am coming but had much work to do. Now my pa.s.sage at last is engage, and the boat that bring me I hope she fly. So I fascinated you with my mysterious tales, your letter says? Then shall I tell you more when we meet, about the enchanted Princess with the beautiful golden hair, yes?

Ah, my poor little Hummingbird, I hear your young Diplomat he is staying in Rome; there is no need, but then, oh la la! Always the gray-eyed lady of Da Vinci is with him, and they tell me that every day they go off into the Campagna and ride and ride and come back very cheerful. I am angry for you. When I come, will you receive me kindly like the true friend who will always remain your obedient Boris?

POLLY TO A. D.

_New York, March._

Thank Heaven your clever old Amba.s.sador has finally departed, but I am very cross that you didn't come with him. Why wait for another Secretary? Can't someone else turn over those ridiculous "affairs?" If you still linger in Rome, I shall complain to the Cruelty to Children Society, because your staying there is making me pine away. Besides, it may be months before your successor arrives. It isn't by any chance Mona Lisa who is keeping you? That day in Rome when she tore up your picture, she said she would make trouble. Hateful thing, I wish she were in Jericho or Halifax or anywhere except in Rome!

When do you think you'll get back? Ever? And what about the date of the wedding? Do you prefer the autumn? Put it off if you want to, or shall we give it up entirely?

You might write me a little gossip. Do you see anything of Boris these days, for I believe he's been making Rome a flying visit? Don't you like him any more? I do. Does he still carry his fascinating Persian cane? Aunt thought he was on his way to America, but like someone else, he seems to care more about remaining in Rome than journeying towards me. But now he writes he is starting.

A. D. TO POLLY

_Rome, March._

As to the date of the wedding, of course it rests with you, dear, to fix it. It should be, if possible, a week or so after I get home but as for waiting until autumn, I should die! Why not May--that time of year would be lovely at the farm? My plan would be to make a festive little program of pre-nuptial events and a small wedding in church and then you and I would go away and leave everybody in the midst of it all.

But my Polly will arrange everything quite perfectly, I'm sure. A poor man, who is an awkward creature at best, is simply disorganized when it comes to a wedding--and that wedding his own, whew! Nevertheless, we're talking about it, and just that alone makes me want to dance another of my celebrated Highland flings. Make it May, and near the latter part. I simply cannot fail to be relieved of my work in time to reach home by that date.

Your letter hurt me. Nothing but duty keeps me in Rome, and you must learn to trust me, and not tease and provoke me, because this separation is quite as hard for me as it is for you. Your Prince is here again, but is becoming impossible. I have seen little of him and would like to see even less. Pan, dear Pan who never has a hard word for anyone, much less for one of his own colleagues, tells me he is the most malicious man he knows, that he likes trouble and does the most abominable things. Even the Russians at his own Emba.s.sy seem to be watching him closely. He couldn't do much to trouble us, could he, dear? Has he been writing, to you often, I wonder? And what about?

Tell me.

Polly, I write you everything! The other night, just Turkish Pan and artist Peppi and Madame Mona Lisa came to a little dinner in my rooms.

While we were talking of not drinking, (I had planned to stop during Lent) I said, with you in my mind, there were of course some toasts I couldn't resist. Quick as a wink Peppi lifted his gla.s.s with "To Mona Lisa!" I was furious, but had to drink it. Dear kind bejewelled Pan then raised his and said "Miss Polly."

Of course Gilet had to refill my gla.s.s which he did with evident delight, for he does not like a dry Lent. But to the second toast I drank heel taps, you may be sure. Then my lady Lisa took an imitation pansy from her dress, saying she knew that Miss Polly gave me fresh ones, but while yours would fade, hers would last forever and bestowed it upon me. Peppi, to my great amus.e.m.e.nt, looked daggers--he was just like an angry spaniel with his fuzzy hair,--so I made a great show of sentiment in accepting the flower.

Will you forgive me? not for breaking my Lenten sacrifice, for alas!

what is that to my little Pagan? You wouldn't give up your tiny gla.s.s unless you took it to pour a libation to some heathen G.o.d of mischief.

Forgive me for the first toast I drank, that's all.

There is one thing also I must speak of. I have seen the gold St. Mark lion I gave you on the Prince's chain. I am sure it was the one, because it had ruby eyes. Although we have not been speaking, I went deliberately up to him and asked him where he got it. He looked confused and said something about having picked it up in Paris. Then I remarked, "I think some pretty American girl gave it to you." He laughed and replied, "Maybe, who knows?" And Peppi tells me today that he has already sailed for New York. Will you kindly tell me why you gave it to him?

Just what does this mean? The more I think of my lion, the more indignant I am. To pay you back, I am going really to flirt with Mona.

I give you fair warning. What do you think of that?

PRINCE BORIS TO POLLY

_New York, March.

Telegram._

Oh how happy I am to think I shall see you once again. Shall be with you tomorrow.

POLLY TO A. D.

_New York,_ _March._

I'm getting desperate. It is impossible to write you how I feel or why, but I'm so alone except for Checkers. He said today, "Why young 'un, you're getting restless," and so I am. The Prince arrives tomorrow--Aunt still continues to be queer about our engagement. So you think I really gave the lion to the Prince? And you are flirting with the dangerous Mona Lisa. Oh, everything seems topsy turvey!

POLLY TO A. D.

_Cable.

New York, April 1st._

Breaking my engagement for reasons you can no doubt surmise.

_PART IV_

_THE PRINCE IN PURSUIT_

A. D. TO POLLY

_Rome, April 1st._

On entering my room I saw a cable lying on my desk and eagerly sprang forward, tore it open, only to stagger back and sink into a chair, for it said, "Breaking my engagement for reasons you can no doubt surmise." Your name was signed.

I have gone over everything. Perhaps you thought I was really flirting with the divorcee--perhaps the Prince has been at the bottom of this--maybe you have felt unduly wounded at my delay in returning, which you must know is not my fault.

Exactly what I intended to do I am not sure, but in my excitement I telephoned Lisa. She said, "Come over at once," and I went. She knows absolutely no reason for your action, and begged my forgiveness if she had unwittingly caused trouble between us. Thank Heaven there is one loyal woman. Oh! Polly my Pagan, is it the Prince?