"Hullo," said the Prince, who spoke admirable English.
Priscilla could only stare.
His instinct was to repeat the exclamation which he felt representedhis feelings very exactly, for her appearance--clothes, expression,everything--astonished him, but he doubted whether it would well bearrepeating. "Is this where you are staying?" he inquired instead.
"Yes," said Priscilla.
"May I come in?"
"Yes," said Priscilla.
He followed her into her parlour. He looked at her critically as shewalked slowly before him, from head to foot he looked at hercritically; at every inch of the shabby serge gown, at the little headwith its badly arranged hair, at the little heel that caught in anunmended bit of braid, at the little shoe with its bow of frayedribbon, and he smiled broadly behind his moustache. But when sheturned round he was perfectly solemn.
"I suppose," said the Prince, putting his hands in his pockets andgazing about the room with an appearance of cheerful interest, "thisis what one calls a snug little place."
Priscilla stood silent. She felt as though she had been shakenabruptly out of sleep. Her face even now after the soul-rending timeshe had been having, in spite of the shadows beneath the eyes, thedroop at the corners of the mouth, in spite, too, it must be said ofthe flagrantly cottage fashion in which Annalise had done her hair,seemed to the Prince so extremely beautiful, so absolutely the face ofhis dearest, best desires, so limpid, apart from all grace ofcolouring and happy circumstance of feature, with the light of a sweetand noble nature, so manifestly the outward expression of anindwelling lovely soul, that his eyes, after one glance round theroom, fixed themselves upon it and never were able to leave it again.
For a minute or two she stood silent, trying to collect her thoughts,trying to shake off the feeling that she was being called back to lifeout of a dream. It had not been a dream, she kept telling herself--badthough it was it had not been a dream but the reality; and this mandropped suddenly in to the middle of it from another world, he was thedream, part of the dream she had rebelled against and run away from afortnight before.
Then she looked at him, and she knew she was putting off her soul withnonsense. Never was anybody less like a dream than the Prince; neverwas anybody more squarely, more certainly real. And he was of her ownkind, of her own world. He and she were equals. They could talktogether plainly, baldly, a talk ungarnished and unretarded bydeferences on the one side and on the other a kindness apt to becomeexcessive in its anxiety not to appear to condescend. The feeling thatonce more after what seemed an eternity she was with an equal was of asingular refreshment. During those few moments in which they stoodsilent, facing each other, in spite of her efforts to keep it out, inspite of really conscientious efforts, a great calm came in and spreadover her spirit. Yet she had no reason to feel calm she thought,struggling. Was there not rather cause for an infinity of shame? Whathad he come for? He of all people. The scandalously jilted, theaffronted, the run away from. Was it because she had been looking solong at Fritzing that this man seemed so nicely groomed? Or at Tussie,that he seemed so well put together? Or at Robin, that he seemed somodest? Was it because people's eyes--Mrs. Morrison's, LadyShuttleworth's--had been so angry lately whenever they rested on herthat his seemed so very kind? No; she did remember thinking them that,even being struck by them, when she saw him first in Kunitz. A dullred crept into her face when she remembered that day and whatfollowed. "It isn't very snug," she said at last, trying to hide by acareful coldness of speech all the strange things she was feeling."When it rains there are puddles by the door. The door, you see, opensinto the street."
"I see," said the Prince.
There was a silence.
"I don't suppose you really do," said Priscilla, full of strangefeelings.
"My dear cousin?"
"I don't know if you've come to laugh at me?"
"Do I look as if I had?"
"I dare say you think--because you've not been through ityourself--that it--it's rather ridiculous."
"My dear cousin," protested the Prince.
Her lips quivered. She had gone through much, and she had lived fortwo days only on milk.
"Do you wipe the puddles up, or does old Fritzing?"
"You see you have come to laugh."
"I hope you'll believe that I've not. Must I be gloomy?"
"How do you know Fritzing's here?"
"Why everybody knows that."
"Everybody?" There was an astonished pause. "How do you know we'rehere--here, in Creeper Cottage?"
"Creeper Cottage is it? I didn't know it had a name. Do you have somany earwigs?"
"How did you know we were in Symford?"
"Why everybody knows that."
Priscilla was silent. Again she felt she was being awakened from adream.
"I've met quite a lot of interesting people since I saw you last," hesaid. "At least, they interested me because they all knew you."
"Knew me?"
"Knew you and that old scound--the excellent Fritzing. There's anextremely pleasant policeman, for instance, in Kunitz--"
"Oh," said Priscilla, starting and turning red. She could not think ofthat policeman without crisping her fingers.
"He and I are intimate friends. And there's a most intelligentperson--really a most helpful, obliging person--who came with you fromDover to Ullerton."
"With us?"
"I found the conversation, too, of the ostler at the Ullerton Arms ofimmense interest."
"But what--"
"And last night I slept at Baker's Farm, and spent a very pleasantevening with Mrs. Pearce."
"But why--"
"She's an instructive woman. Her weakest point, I should say, is herjunkets."
"I wonder why you bother to talk like this--to be sarcastic."
"About the junkets? Didn't you think they were bad?"
"Do you suppose it's worth while to--to kick somebody who's down? Andso low down? So completely got to the bottom?"
"Kick? On my soul I assure you that the very last thing I want to dois to kick you."
"Then why do you do it?"
"I don't do it. Do you know what I've come for?"
"Is my father round the corner?"
"Nobody's round the corner. I've muzzled your father. I've come quiteby myself. And do you know why?"
"No," said Priscilla, shortly, defiantly; adding before he couldspeak, "I can't imagine." And adding to that, again before he couldspeak, "Unless it's for the fun of hunting down a defenceless quarry."
"I say, that's rather picturesque," said the Prince with everyappearance of being struck.
Priscilla blushed. In spite of herself every word they said to eachother made her feel more natural, farther away from self-torment andsordid fears, nearer to that healthy state of mind, swamped out of herlately, when petulance comes more easily than meekness. The merepresence of the Prince seemed to set things right, to raise her againin her own esteem. There was undoubtedly something wholesome about theman, something everyday and reassuring, something dependable and sane.The first smile for I don't know how long came and cheered the cornersof her mouth. "I'm afraid I've grown magniloquent since--since--"
"Since you ran away?"
She nodded. "Fritzing, you know, is most persistently picturesque. Ithink it's catching. But he's wonderful," she added quickly,--"mostwonderful in patience and goodness."
"Oh everybody knows he's wonderful. Where is the great man?"
"In the next room. Do you want him?"
"Good Lord, no. You've not told me what you suppose I've come for."
"I did. I told you I couldn't imagine."
"It's for a most saintly, really nice reason. Guess."
"I can't guess."
"Oh but try."
Priscilla to her extreme disgust felt herself turning very red. "Isuppose to spy out the nakedness of the land," she said severely.
"Now you're picturesque again. You must have been reading a tremendouslot lately. Of course you would, with that learned old fossil about.No my dear, I've come simply to see if you are happy."
She looked at him, and her flush slowly died away.
"Simply to convince myself that you are happy."
Her eyes filling with tears she thought it more expedient to fix themon the table-cloth. She did fix them on it, and the golden fringe ofeyelashes that he very rightly thought so beautiful lay in long duskycurves on her serious face. "It's extraordinarily nice of you if--ifit's true," she said.
"But it is true. And if you are, if you tell me you are and I'm ableto believe it, I bow myself out, dear cousin, and shall devote anyenergies I have left after doing that to going on muzzling yourfather. He shall not, I promise you, in any way disturb you. Haven'tI kept him well in hand up to this?"
She raised her eyes to his. "Was it you keeping him so quiet?"
"It was, my dear. He was very restive. You've no notion of all thethings he wanted to do. It wanted a pretty strong hand, and a lightone too, I can tell you. But I was determined you should have yourhead. That woman Disthal--"
Priscilla started.
"You don't like her?" inquired the Prince sympathetically.
"No."
"I was afraid you couldn't. But I didn't know how to manage that part.She's in London."
Priscilla started again. "I thought--I thought she was in bed," shesaid.
"She was, but she got out again. Your--departure cured her."
"Didn't you tell me nobody was round the corner?"
"Well, you don't call London round the corner? I wouldn't let her comeany nearer to you. She's waiting there quite quietly."
"What is she waiting for?" asked Priscilla quickly.
"Come now, she's your lady in waiting you know. It seems naturalenough she should wait, don't it?"
"No," said Priscilla, knitting her eyebrows.
"Don't frown. She had to come too. She's brought some of your womenand a whole lot"--he glanced at the blue serge suit and put his handup to his moustache--"a whole lot of clothes."
"Clothes?" A wave of colour flooded her face. She could not help it atthe moment any more than a starving man can help looking eager whenfood is set before him. "Oh," she said, "I hope they're the ones I wasexpecting from Paris?"
"I should think it very likely. There seem to be a great many. I neversaw so many boxes for one little cousin."
Priscilla made a sudden movement with her hands. "You can't think,"she said, "how tired I am of this dress."
"Yes I can," the Prince assured her.
"I've worn it every day."
"You must have."
"Every single day since the day I--I--"
"The day you ran away from me."
She blushed. "I didn't run away from you. At least, not exactly. Youwere only the last straw."
"A nice thing for a man to be."
"I ran because--because--oh, it's a long story, and I'm afraid a veryfoolish one."
A gleam came into the Prince's eyes. He took a step nearer her, butimmediately thinking better of it took it back again. "Perhaps," hesaid pleasantly, "only the beginning was foolish, and you'll settledown after a bit and get quite fond of Creeper Cottage."
She looked at him startled.
"You see my dear it was rather tremendous what you did. You must havebeen most fearfully sick of things at Kunitz. I can well understandit. You couldn't be expected to like me all at once. And if I had tohave that Disthal woman at my heels wherever I went I'd shoot myself.What you've done is much braver really than shooting one's self. Butthe question is do you like it as much as you thought you would?"
Priscilla gave him a swift look, and said nothing.
"If you don't, there's the Disthal waiting for you with all thosecharming frocks, and all you've got to do is to put them on and gohome."
"But I can't go home. How can I? I am disgraced. My father would neverlet me in."
"Oh I'd arrange all that. I don't think you'd find him angry if youfollowed my advice very carefully. On the other hand, if you likethis and want to stay on there's nothing more to be said. I'll saygood-bye, and promise you shall be left in peace. You shall be left tobe happy entirely in your own way."
Priscilla was silent.
"You don't--look happy," he said, scrutinizing her face.
She was silent.
"You've got very thin. How did you manage that in such a littlewhile?"
"We've muddled things rather," she said with an ashamed sort of smile."On the days when I was hungry there wasn't anything to eat, and thenwhen there were things I wasn't hungry."
The Prince looked puzzled. "Didn't that old scamp--I mean didn't theexcellent Fritzing bring enough money?"
"He thought he did, but it wasn't enough."
"Is it all gone?"
"We're in debt."
Again he put his hand up to his moustache. "Well I'll see to all that,of course," he said gravely. "And when that has been set right you'resure you'll like staying on here?"
She summoned all her courage, and looked at him for an instantstraight in the face. "No," she said.
"No?"
"No."
There was another silence. He was standing on the hearthrug, she onthe other side of the table; but the room was so small that by puttingout his hand he could have touched her. A queer expression was in hiseyes as he looked at her, an expression entirely at variance with hiscalm and good-natured talk, the exceedingly anxious expression of aman who knows his whole happiness is quivering in the balance. She didnot see it, for she preferred to look at the table-cloth.
"Dreadful things have happened here," she said in a low voice.
"What sort?"
"Horrid sorts. Appalling sorts."
"Tell me."
"I couldn't bear to."
"But I think I know."
She looked at him astonished.
"Mrs. Pearce--"
"She told you?"
"What she knew she told me. Perhaps there's something she doesn'tknow."
Priscilla remembered Robin, and blushed.
"Yes, she told me about that," said the Prince nodding.
"About what?" asked Priscilla, startled.
"About the squire intending to marry you."
"Oh," said Priscilla.
"It seems hard on him, don't it? Has it struck you that such thingsare likely to occur pretty often to Miss Maria-Theresa EthelNeumann-Schultz?"
"I'm afraid you really have come only to laugh," said Priscilla, herlips quivering.
"I swear it's only to see if you are happy."
"Well, see then." And throwing back her head with a great defiance shelooked at him while her eyes filled with tears; and though theypresently brimmed over, and began to drop down pitifully one by one,she would not flinch but went on looking.
"I see," said the Prince quietly. "And I'm convinced. Of course, then,I shall suggest your leaving this."
"I want to."
"And putting yourself in the care of the Disthal."
Priscilla winced.
"Only her temporary care. Quite temporary. And letting her take youback to Kunitz."
Priscilla winced again.
"Only temporarily," said the Prince.
"But my father would never--"
"Yes my dear, he will. He'll be delighted to see you. He'll rejoice."
"Rejoice?"
"I assure you he will. You've only got to do what I tell you."
"Shall you--come too?"
"If you'll let me."
"But then--but then--"
"Then what, my dear?"
She looked at him, and her face changed slowly from white to red andred to white again. Fritzing's words crossed her mind--"If you marryhim you will be undoubtedly eternally lost," and her very soul criedout that they were folly. Why should she be eternally lost? Whatcobwebs were these, cobwebs of an old brain preoccupied with shadows,dusty things to be swept away at the first touch of Nature's vigorousbroom? Indeed she thought it far more likely that she would beeternally found. But she was ashamed of herself, ashamed of all shehad done, ashamed of the disgraceful way she had treated this man,terribly disillusioned, terribly out of conceit with herself, and shestood there changing colour, hanging her head, humbled, penitent,every shred of the dignity she had been trained to gone, simplysomebody who has been very silly and is very sorry.
The Prince put out his hand.
She pretended not to see it.
The Prince came round the table. "You know," he said, "our engagementhasn't been broken off yet?"
Her instinct was to edge away, but she would not stoop to edging. "Wasit ever made?" she asked, not able to induce her voice to rise above awhisper.
"Practically."
There was another silence.
"Why, then--" began Priscilla, for the silence had come to be morethrobbing, more intolerably expressive than any speech.
"Yes?" encouraged the Prince, coming very close.
She turned her head slowly. "Why, then--" said Priscilla again, herface breaking into a smile, half touched, half mischievous, whollyadorable.
"I think so too," said the Prince; and he shut her mouth with a kiss.
* * * * *
"And now," said the Prince some time afterwards, "let us go to thatold sinner Fritzing."
Priscilla hung back, reluctant to deal this final blow to the heartthat had endured so many. "He'll be terribly shocked," she said.
But the Prince declared it had to be done; and hand in hand they wentout into the street, and opening Fritzing's door stood before him.
He was still absorbed in his Aeschylus, had been sitting absorbed inthe deeds of the dead and departed, of the long dead Xerxes, the longdead Darius, the very fish, voiceless but voracious, long since asdead as the most shredded of the sailors,--he had been sittingabsorbed in these various corpses all the while that in the next room,on the other side of a few inches of plaster and paper, so close youwould have thought his heart must have burned within him, so close youwould have thought he must be scorched, the living present had beenpulsing and glowing, beating against the bright bars of the future,stirring up into alertness a whole row of little red-headed souls tillthen asleep, souls with golden eyelashes, souls eager to come and beprinces and princesses of--I had almost revealed the mighty nation'sname. A shadow fell across his book, and looking up he saw the twostanding before him hand in hand.
Priscilla caught her breath: what white anguish was going to flashinto his face when he grasped the situation? Judge then of heramazement, her hesitation whether to be pleased or vexed, to laugh orcry, when, grasping it, he leaped to his feet and in tones of a mostlimitless, a most unutterable relief, shouted three times running"Gott sei Dank!"