One Day Part 4

"By the way, Alice," she asked carelessly, "who was the young man who stared at us so rudely last night as we drove away from the theatre?"

"I saw no young man staring, Opal. Where was he?"

"Why, he stood on the pavement, waiting, I suppose, for his carriage, and as we drove away he looked at me as though he thought I had no right to live, and still less to laugh--I believe I was laughing--and as we turned the corner I peeped back through the curtain, and he still stood there in the full glare of the light, staring. It's impolite, cousins--_very! Gentlemen_ don't stare at girls in America!"

"What did he look like, Opal?" asked Lady Fletcher.

"Like a Greek G.o.d!" answered the girl, without a second's hesitation.

"What!"

Both women gasped, simultaneously. They were dismayed.

"Oh, don't be shocked! He had the full panoply of society war-paint on.

He was certainly properly clothed, but as to his being in his right mind, I have my doubts--serious doubts! He stared!"

"I hope you didn't stare at him, Opal!"

"Well, I did! What could he expect? And I laughed at him, too! But I don't believe he saw me at all, more's the pity. I am quite sure he would have fallen in love with me if he had!"

"Opal!"

Opal was thoroughly enjoying herself now. She did enjoy shocking people who were so delightfully shockable!

"Why, _'Opal'?"_ and her mimicry was irresistible. "Don't you think I'm a bit lovable, cousin?--not a bit? You discourage me! I'm doomed to be a spinster, I suppose! Ah, me! And I'd far rather be the spinster's cat!

Cats aren't worried about the conventions and all that sort of thing.

Happy animals! While we poor two-footed ones they call human--only we aren't really more than half so--have to keep our claws well hidden and purr hypocritically, no matter how roughly the world rubs our fur the wrong way, nor how wild we are to scratch and spit and bristle! Wouldn't you like to be a cat, Alice?"

"Goodness, child! What an idea! I am very well contented, Opal, with the sphere of life into which I have been placed!"

"Happy, happy Alice! May that state of mind endure forever! But come!

Haven't you an idea, either of you, who my Knight of the Stare can be?"

"You didn't describe him, Opal."

Opal opened her eyes in wide surprise.

"Didn't I? Why, I thought I did, graphically! A Greek G.o.d, dressed _en regle_. What more do you want? I am sure anyone ought to recognize him by that."

Her listeners looked at her in real consternation, which she was quick to see. Her eyes danced.

"Well, if you insist upon details, I can supply a few, I guess, if I try. I am really dying of curiosity to know who he is and why he stared.

Of course I didn't look at him very closely. It wouldn't have been--er--what do you call it?--proper. And of course I could not see clearly at night, anyway. But I did notice he was about six feet tall.

Imagine me, poor little me, looking up to six feet! With broad shoulders; an athletic, muscular figure, like a young Hercules; a well-shaped head, like Apollo's, covered with curls of fair hair; a smooth, clear skin, with the tint of the rose in his cheek that deepened to blood-red when his blue eyes, in which the skies of all the world seemed to be mirrored, stared with an expression like that of a man upon whom the splendor of some glorious Paradise was just dawning. He looked like an Englishman, yet something in his att.i.tude and general appearance made me think that he was not. His hands--"

"Opal! Opal! What do you mean? How could you see so much of a young man in so short a time? And at night, too?"

Opal pouted.

"You wanted a detailed description. I was trying to give it to you. As I told you at the start, I couldn't see much. But anyway, he stared!"

"And I dare say he wasn't the only one who stared!" put in Lady Alice in dry tones of reprehension. "I can't imagine who it could be, can you, mother?"

"Not unless it was that strange young Monsieur Zalenska--_Paul_ Zalenska, I believe he calls himself--Paul Verdayne's guest. I rather think, from the description, that it must have been he!"

"Zalenska? What a name! I wonder if he won't let me call him 'Paul!'"

said the incorrigible Opal, musingly. "I shall ask him the first time I see him. Paul's a pretty name! I like that--but I'll never, never be able to twist my tongue around the other. He'd get out of hearing before I could call him and that would never do at all! But 'Monsieur,' you say? Why 'Monsieur'? He certainly doesn't look at all like a Frenchman!"

"No one knows what he is, Opal; nor who. That is, no one but the Verdaynes. He has always made a mystery of himself."

Opal clapped her small hands childishly.

"Charming! My ideal knight in the fles.h.!.+ But how shall I attract him?"

She knitted her brows and pondered as seriously as though the fate of nations depended upon her decision.

"Shall I send him my card, Alice, and ask him to call? Or would it be better to make an appointment with him for the Park? Perhaps a 'personal' in the _News_ would answer my purpose--do you think he reads the _News_, or would the _Times_ be better? Come, cousins, what do you think? I am so young, you know! Please advise me."

She clasped her hands in a charming gesture of helpless appeal and the ladies looked at one another in horrified silence. What unheard of thing would this impossible girl propose next! They would be thankful when they saw her once more safely embarked for the "land of the free," and out from under their chaperonage, they hoped, forever. They realized that she was quite beyond their restraining powers. Had she no sense of decency at all?

The door opened, callers were announced, and the day was saved.

Opal straightened up, put on what she called her "best dignity" and comported herself in so very well-bred and amiable a manner that her cousins quite forgave all her past delinquencies and smiled approval upon the charming courtesy she extended to their guests. She could be _such_ a lady when she would! No one could resist her! And yet they felt themselves sitting upon the crater of a volcano liable to erupt at any moment. One never felt quite safe with Opal.

But, much to their surprise and relief, everything went beautifully, and the guests departed, delighted with Lady Alice's "charming American cousin, so sweet, so dainty, so witty, so brilliant, and altogether lovely--really quite a dear, you know!"

But for all that, Lady Alice Mordaunt and Lady Fletcher were far from feeling easy over their guest, and ardently wished that the girl's father would cut short his visit to France and return to take her back with him to America. And while these two worthy ladies worried and fretted, Opal Ledoux laughed and dreamed.

And in a big mansion over in Berkeley Square Monsieur Paul Zalenska wondered--and listened.

CHAPTER IV

It was a whole two weeks after the Boy's experience at the theatre, and though the echoes of that mysterious voice still rang through all his dreams at night, and most of his waking hours, he had not heard its lilt again.

Paul Verdayne smiled to himself to note the youngster's sudden interest in society. He had not--strange as it may seem--been told a word of the experience, but he was not curious. He certainly knew the world, if anyone knew it, and though he was sure he recognized the symptoms, he had too much tact to ask, "Who is the girl?"

"Let the Boy have his little secrets," he thought, remembering his own callow days. "They will do him good."

And though the Boy felt an undue sense of guilt, he continued to keep his lips closed and his eyes and ears open, though it often seemed so utterly useless to do so. Sometimes he wondered if he had dropped to sleep, there behind the hawthorn hedge that afternoon, and dreamed it all.

Verdayne and the Boy were sitting at luncheon at the Savoy. Sir Charles and Lady Henrietta had gone down to Verdayne Place for a week, and the two men were spending most of their time away from the lonely house in Berkeley Square.

That day they were discussing the Boy's matrimonial prospects as proposed by the Grand Duke Peter--indeed, they were usually discussing them. The Boy had written, signifying his acceptance and approval of the arrangements as made. Nothing else was expected of him for the present, but his nature had not ceased its revolt against the decree of Fate, and Paul Verdayne shared his feeling of repugnance to the utmost. Perhaps Verdayne felt it even more acutely than the young Prince himself, for he knew so much better all that the Boy was sacrificing. But he also knew, as did the poor royal victim himself, that it was inevitable.