"I have known you, Prince, ever since you were a baby, I have played with you, worked with you, served you faithfully and well. I knew you to be wild, reckless, selfish--but I never thought you would sink to this; to ruin an innocent young girl and then turn it into a jest. I am older than you, at your father's wish I have been brought up like a brother to you. I have stood by you through thick and thin, no man has had a more loyal friend and servant than I have been to you--but this is the end.

You are no longer my Prince, I shall wear your uniform no longer.

To-night we stand here, not as Prince and subject, but as man to man."

The Prince sat up.

"Nonsense, Otto! Do you mean to say that after all these years, you would desert me on account of a girl?"

"I shall send in my papers to-morrow," said Otto, and looking the Prince in the eyes he added, "if I were wearing my sabre now, I should break it in your presence--you are not worthy of the service of a true blade!"

His hands made the gesture of snapping the blade over his knee; he turned on his heel.

Mirko sprang from the couch, upsetting the little table standing by it, with its box of cigarettes, decanter and gla.s.s. The bottle crashed to the floor and a sticky stream of liqueur crept over the carpet.

"Otto!" he cried. The other turned stiffly.

"Otto, you are right, I don't deserve a friend like you,--I have behaved like a blackguard. You may believe me or not,--I didn't mean to do the girl any harm. She--she went to my head, she maddened me! Hang it all!

Why didn't she keep me at arm's length?"

"She trusted you," said Angelescu accusingly.

"Now look here, Otto, as man to man, if that girl in her heart of hearts hadn't wished me--"

"You d.a.m.ned cur," flashed Angelescu, "_you_ to lay the blame on a woman!

If you say another word I shall choke you where you stand. I--"

He threw out his arm, then realizing that he could control himself no longer, he wrenched open the door and strode out, flinging it to behind him.

Mirko flushed angrily. That he should have humbled himself to meet this response!

"You'll pay for that, my friend," he snarled. He turned thinking to pour himself a gla.s.s of liqueur and the sight of the broken decanter and its wasted contents completed his discomfiture. He was furious with Angelescu, furious with Ragna, all the more so as he was distinctly conscious of having played a very ugly role.

"d.a.m.n the girl, I wish I had never seen her!"

His servant, coming in response to his furious summons, met with a most unpleasant reception; he was used, however, to acting as _souffre douleur_ in his Royal Master's fits of anger and philosophically bore the storm of invective hurled at his defenceless head.

The outburst had its usual calming effect on Mirko, who to do him justice, soon felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. Most of all he regretted the estrangement of Angelescu; from boyhood up he had always depended on Otto's devotion and clear judgment, and to have lost such a friend over such a foolish affair would be much too hard luck, a punishment far in excess of his fault. The wrong done to Ragna was much less important in his eyes; like every Don Juan, he had a contempt for women, and now that his pa.s.sion had subsided he wondered what had attracted him in the girl, who after all was no great beauty.

"I will see what can be done to-morrow," he promised himself; he felt even ready to humble himself if necessary, to draw Otto back to him again, never doubting that by some means he would succeed in doing so.

But alas for his plans! When he awoke late the next morning and sent his valet to inquire for the aide, the man came back with the announcement that Count Angelescu had left by the early train.

CHAPTER VI

Ragna was awakened by the maid knocking at her door. She sat up holding her throbbing head between her hands, trying to marshal in her mind the fragmentary memories of yesterday, that seemed like bits of a bad dream.

They fell into their places, one by one,--the drive, the terrible evening at the _veglione_, her conversation with Angelescu, the return to her box, and the joyous welcome from her party, who were growing anxious for her--especially Astrid, consumed by remorse, for having deserted her in the crowd--

"And for that fool of a Lotten, who dances like a knitting-machine, anyhow, and let me get b.u.mped and trampled on, and dragged to pieces in the crush!" Then the sleepy return home.

"Why don't you stop knocking, Rosa? I don't want to get up yet!" she called fretfully.

"I have a letter for you, Signorina, it is marked '_urgent_.'"

Ragna rose wearily, and unlocked the door; Rosa brought in the breakfast tray and set it down, then fished an envelope out of her ap.r.o.n pocket, and having handed it to Ragna, left the room. She would willingly have lingered to chatter about the _veglione_, but Ragna's manner did not invite conversation.

Ragna relocked the door, and returned to bed to read her letter; it was from Angelescu, and ran as follows:

"MY DEAR CHILD,

"I shall be leaving Rome in a few hours. After what has happened. I cannot remain any longer as aide-de-camp to H. R. H. and I am returning home to resign my commission in the service, and to see that it takes effect immediately. After that, my plans are undecided.

"I meant what I said to you last evening, and I refuse to consider your answer as definite. I beg of you to take some time to think over the proposition. I shall wait patiently for your ultimate decision, which I hope may be in my favour. In any case, should you ever stand in need of a friend, remember that now and always, I shall be at your service. Unfortunately for myself, perhaps, I am not a man who changes, and ten years from now I shall still be the same towards you as I am to-day. A letter sent to the address in the lower left-hand corner will find me always.

"Believe me,

"Your devoted friend and servant,"

(here followed the signature and address.)

Ragna read the letter through twice, thoughtfully. Its intentional restraint she took for coldness. Angelescu, in his effort to suit his language to her manner of the night before, and to avoid antagonizing her by any untimely warmth of expression, had overreached himself for, with her, the inevitable reaction had set in and the formality of the letter froze the feelings in her that a greater tenderness might have called forth. She misconstrued the delicacy of his intention, taking it for the ceremonious chivalry of a man, who, while repenting of his impulsive and quixotic offer, feels that he cannot withdraw it, and is prepared to abide by it, regardless of inclination.

Going to her writing table, she answered at once.

"DEAR COUNT ANGELESCU,

"I appreciate fully the kindness and generosity of your offer, but do not feel that I can accept it. I sincerely hope that you will not think of breaking off your career on my account, it would seem to me most unnecessary, as there is no real reason why you should take up the cudgels on my behalf--especially, since I desire you not to.

"Thanking you with all my heart for your kindness,

"I remain,

"Sincerely yours,

"RAGNA ANDERSEN."

She folded the sheet, put it in an envelope, which she addressed as directed in Angelescu's letter, gummed down the flap, and sealed it. She sat weighing the letter meditatively in her hand, a moment or two before she rang the bell to call Rosa. Did something tell her that she was throwing away her own chance of happiness, and wounding the one heart that could really love and understand her?

After the letter had gone, she sat on at the table, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. It was a wet, gloomy morning, the cold light gave the shabby pension room a dreary look; on the floor lay her clothes as she had stepped out of them the evening before; the black domino lay over the back of a chair, and the mask swung rakishly by one of its elastics, from a k.n.o.b of the dressing gla.s.s.

On the mantel-shelf stood a vase of half-withered flowers, whose dropping petals littered the hearth below. Ragna took a miserable delight in the untidiness of the room; it seemed of a piece with the confusion of her life, a fit setting for her misery of mind and body.

Rosa entered quietly, with an armful of wood and a pine cone, and kneeling before the fireplace, soon had a merry little blaze. Seeing that Ragna had not touched her breakfast, she poured out a cup of coffee, and taking it over to the girl, obliged her to drink it.

"Go back to bed, Signorina, you are still tired from the _veglione_."

Ragna shook her head, but Rosa took her by the arm, and led her gently over, putting her to bed as though she were a child. This done, she proceeded to straighten up the room, folding the clothes neatly and laying them in the cupboard.