Читать книгу The Kings of the East - Sydney C. Grier - Страница 8

Table of Contents

It was with a sardonic chuckle that Prince Mirkovics remarked the next morning to his pretty German daughter-in-law, whom he had summoned by telegraph from Thracia to assist him upon this momentous occasion, that the entertainment he was offering to his future Queen was favoured with Queen’s weather. The irony underlying the speech was necessarily lost upon Princess Boris, to whom Princess Lida of Dardania was the only possible Queen for Thracia, but she responded with sympathetic cheerfulness, relieved to be able to display her new Felix gown without offering it up as a sacrifice to her loyalty. The locality of the picnic had cost Prince Mirkovics much anxious thought, but he had fixed at last upon a spot known as the Tannenspitze, a grassy hill-top emerging from a sea of pines, and commanding an extensive view. Carriages were to convey the party from Ludwigsbad to the foot of the hill, but the summit itself could only be approached on foot, by means of a variety of intricate paths through the pine-woods, and this it was that rendered the place specially suitable in view of Prince Mirkovics’s purposes. The arrangements generally were left in the hands of Princess Boris, who was dominated by the ambition of giving the smartest picnic Ludwigsbad had ever seen. This necessitated an expenditure at which the frugal soul of her father-in-law rose in shocked revolt, but he remembered in time the stakes for which he was playing, and held his peace.

In spite of the magnitude of the preparations for their entertainment, the list of those invited was rather select than lengthy. The guest of the day was naturally Princess Lida, a young lady of seventeen, endowed with a tact and assurance that would have done credit to a world-worn society leader of seventy. It pleased her Highness, who may or may not have received a hint from her mother before starting, to single out Philippa as the object of her special favour, and enlist her as her inseparable companion for the day. Philippa must sit beside her in the carriage, and walk with her through the pine-woods, and give detailed answers to an endless list of searching questions as to her home life, her favourite pursuits, her tastes, and her ancestry. The easy persistence with which Princess Lida imposed her will upon the whole party, and her stamp upon the conversation, astonished and oppressed the English girl, who felt herself overgrown and unfinished and badly dressed in the presence of this very self-possessed young lady. The only misgiving which had afflicted Philippa on starting, relative to her gown of white cloth, with its edging of gold cord, and pale blue silk shirt, was the fear that something darker would be more suitable for a rough country walk. Now, however, as she contemplated Princess Lida’s delicate silver-grey silk and black lace, and the marvellous confection of pervenche cashmere, decked in bewildering fashion with velvet bows, diamond buttons, iridescent embroidery, and silk fringe, which Princess Boris had considered fitting wear for the occasion, she owned to herself that the dress she had worn at the Marlborough House garden-party, a few weeks back, would not have been at all too smart. A miserable consciousness of her shoes also oppressed her, for they were English-made and serviceable, and contrasted painfully with the fairy-like foot-gear, high-heeled and highly decorated, of the other ladies.

When the carriages had been left behind, however, and the walk through the woods began, Philippa found that the advantage was on her own side, but she thought Prince Mirkovics need not have emphasised this superiority in the way he did. Noticing the difficulty with which Princess Lida stumbled along the rough track, he devoted himself ostentatiously to removing the stones from her path, accompanying his attentions with remarks which the two girls were fain to regard as breathing loyalty and respect, but which seemed fated to move King Michael and his suite to bursts of ill-concealed laughter. It was a relief to Philippa when their host insisted at last on offering his arm to the Princess, and provided a cavalier for herself in the shape of Captain Roburoff, who appeared to have altogether forgotten and forgiven the snub he had received only five days ago at her godmother’s hands. He spoke of Cyril and his efforts to solve the Jewish problem with so much interest and appreciation that Philippa, unconscious that a word from Prince Soudaroff had led him to read up the subject carefully, felt her heart warm towards him, and conversed with an animation such as she rarely showed to strangers.

Cyril himself was unable to spare time for the picnic, which caused Prince Mirkovics a secret guilty satisfaction, but he had generously given Mansfield a day’s holiday, which had so far failed to bring the secretary the pleasure he had expected. Philippa’s society was unattainable, and in despair Mansfield attached himself to another disconsolate young Englishman, who knew no one but the friends with whom he had come. Together they forsook the beaten track in favour of a torrent-bed, which afforded them a good deal of scrambling and a certain amount of risk, arousing thereby the longing envy of Usk, who had been delivered over to the tender mercies of Princess Lida’s lady-in-waiting. Countess Birnsdorf was stiff, elderly, and unappreciative of rural delights, and she subjected Usk to a severe cross-examination, with the view of discovering whether he was really “born,” in the German sense of the word. His light-hearted confession that he really could not answer half her questions without looking up his family history in the ‘Peerage’ shocked and startled her, and he detected a perceptible shrinking from his society until she had satisfied herself as to the length of time the Mortimers had reigned at Llandiarmid, and the arms they had borne at different epochs. Early study of the carvings and stained glass in the Castle hall had rendered Usk well versed in these, and before the hill-top was reached, the Countess had come to look upon him almost with friendliness. The feeling was not reciprocated, however, and Usk was base enough to turn his charge over to Mansfield’s unhappy friend, who had in some way contrived to lose his companion in the wood, and approached to ask whether Usk had seen him. Quieting his conscience with the excuse that it would be quite a novel and exciting sensation for the Countess to tall for the first time to some one who was not “born,” Usk slipped away to find Mansfield, whom he discovered engaged in a solitary search for adventures in the miniature cavern where the stream took its rise. In this Usk joined him, and they wasted all the vestas they had with them, made themselves decidedly wet, and tore their clothes a little, enjoying themselves thoroughly the while. When the want of matches rendered further exploration impracticable, they remembered reluctantly their duty to the rest of the party, and were retracing their steps to the summit of the hill, when there was a flash of blue and white through the trees, and the two young men were suddenly confronted by Philippa, who burst upon them, flushed and panting.

“Usk,” she cried fiercely, “if you let that odious little cad come near me again, I’ll never speak another word to you in my life!”

“Which I wish to remark, that your language is strong, Phil,” observed Usk mildly.

Mansfield’s eyes blazed as he turned upon him. “For shame, Usk! Doesn’t it matter to you that your sister has been insulted? Who is it, Lady Phil? that Scythian fellow?”

“No, no,” panted Philippa, “it’s the King. But Usk is quite right. It was silly of me to be so excited. Oh, please, Mr Mansfield, don’t go. I—I want you to hear how it was. Please stay here.”

She caught his hand and held it, and Mansfield, before whose eyes had floated a vision in which his stick made closer acquaintance with King Michael’s sacred person than the monarch would be likely to consider agreeable, allowed himself to be persuaded to remain, more especially since Usk gave him a warning look behind Philippa’s back. “This is my affair. You have no right to interfere,” the look meant, and Mansfield was forced to submit.