XIII

IN THE ROYAL BOX

When the Princess and I entered the Royal Box that night the applause was instant and enthusiastic. I kept a bit in the rear; the greeting was for her. And she smiled that conquering smile of hers that went straight to every individual in the audience as a personal acknowledgment. I had seen it frequently in the past month; yet, every time, to marvel only the more. Small wonder, indeed, that she was the toast of the Nation and the pride of the King. A million pities the Salic Law barred her from the succession. What a Queen Regnant she would make! Aye, what a Queen Consort she would be! What a wife!

Then the last high note of the National Air blared out and the Princess, turning quickly, caught my look and straightway read my thoughts. A sudden flush swept over her face and neck and she dropped her eyes. Silently I placed a chair for her; as she took it, her bare arm rested against my hand. The effect on me, in the stress of my feelings at that moment, is indescribable. I know I gasped--and my throat got hot and my heart pounded in sharp pain.

But I did not withdraw my hand--nor did the Princess remove her arm.

Its soft, warm flesh pressed against my fingers--the perfume of her hair enveloped my face--the beat of her bosom was just below me.

A fierce impulse seized me to take her in my arms--there, before them all, the Court and the Capital. Reason told me to step back. Yet I could not. Instead, I gripped the chair fiercely, and, by that very act, pushed my fingers only more closely against her.

Was I dreaming--or did I feel an answering pressure, not once but twice repeated. I was sure of it. I bent forward. Quickly she looked up at me with eyes half closed.

"How cold your hand is, Armand," she said.

"Does it chill you, dear?" I whispered.

She smiled. "It never could do that," she answered. "But won't you sit beside me, now?"

"Yes, I suppose so," I said reluctantly. "Only, I'm nearer you as I am."

Then I took my chair, drawing it a trifle in the rear, so, being obliged to lean forward, I would be closer to her and could speak softly in her ear.

"You're very bold, Armand; you are always doing things so publicly,"

she said.

"It was an accident--at first."

"And afterward, sir?"

"Afterward, I was powerless."

"My arm would not believe you."

"Powerless to remove my hand, I mean."

"Powerlessness, with you, has queer manifestations," she said.

"Yes--sometimes it's pa.s.sive and sometimes active."

"It was active, I suppose, that day in the King's cabinet, when you gave me that cousinly kiss."

"If we were not so public I would----"

She looked at me with the most daring invitation. "It is because we are so public that you are permitted to sit so near."

"Then, why blame me if I take the only opportunities you give me?" I asked.

She half closed her eyes and looked at me, side-long, through her lashes.

"Have I ever blamed you?" she asked.

"Dehra," said I, "if you look at me like that I shall kiss you now."

She closed her eyes a trifle more. "Where, Armand?" she said. "You have been kissing my hair every time I let it touch your lips."

"Let it touch them again, then," I whispered.

She turned her head sharply from me and, then, slowly back again; and her perfumed tresses, dressed low on her neck, brushed full and hard across my face, from cheek to cheek.

"There, cousin," said she; "am I not good?"

"Not entirely, when you call me 'cousin,'" I said, looking her in the eyes.

"Your Highness, then," she smiled.

"Worse still."

"Marshal."

"No better."

"Marshal would please most men," she said.

"There is only one name from you will please me, now," I answered.

She quite closed her eyes. "You are an autocrat to-night, Armand," she murmured.

"I'm your lover, sweetheart; your lover to-night and always," I said impetuously.

She opened her eyes wide and looked into mine with that calm, deep search which only a good woman has power to use. I knew, and trembling waited. What she saw in my eyes then she would see there always--in storm, in sunshine--in youth and in old age.

Then, suddenly, her glance dropped and a blush stole slowly across her cheek.

"To me, dearest," she said softly, "you have been a lover since that day in the forest when you were only Captain Smith."

I bowed my head. "You Princess of women," I said. "How near I was to losing you."

She turned and deliberately let her hair rest on my face a moment.

"There, dear," said she, "is my first kiss to you. I shall have to wait a bit for yours to me."

"And you really want my kiss, Dehra?" I asked doubtingly. Small wonder, indeed, I was slow to realize my fortune.

"You great stupid," she laughed. "Can't you understand I have wanted it for six long years?"