CHAPTER VIII. AN INTERRUPTED THEATRE PARTY

Seated upon a roomy lounge in the foyer of the Savoy were three women who attracted more than an average amount of attention from the pa.s.sers-by. In the middle was the d.u.c.h.ess of Devenham, erect, stately, and with a figure which was still irreproachable notwithstanding her white hair. On one side sat her daughter, Lady Grace Redford, tall, fair, and comely; on the other, Miss Penelope Morse. The two girls were amusing themselves, watching the people; their chaperon had her eye upon the clock.

"To dine at half-past seven," the d.u.c.h.ess remarked, as she looked around the _entresol_ of the great restaurant through her lorgnettes, "is certainly a little trying for one's temper and for one's digestion, but so long as those men accepted, I certainly think they ought to have been here. They know that the play begins at a quarter to nine."

"It isn't like d.i.c.ky Vanderpole in the least," Penelope said. "Since he began to tread the devious paths of diplomacy, he has brought exactness in the small things of life down to a fine art."

"He isn't half so much fun as he used to be," Lady Grace declared.

"Fun!" Penelope exclaimed. "Sometimes I think that I never knew a more trying person."

"I have never known the Prince unpunctual," the d.u.c.h.ess murmured. "I consider him absolutely the best-mannered young man I know."

Lady Grace smiled, and glanced at Penelope.

"I don't think you'll get Penelope to agree with you, mother," she said.

"Why not, my dear?" the d.u.c.h.ess asked. "I heard that you were quite rude to him the other evening. We others all find him so charming."

Penelope's lip curled slightly.

"He has so many admirers," she remarked, "that I dare say he will not notice my absence from the ranks. Perhaps I am a little prejudiced.

At home, you know, we have rather strong opinions about this fusion of races."

The d.u.c.h.ess raised her eyebrows.

"But a Prince of j.a.pan, my dear Penelope!" she said. "A cousin of the Emperor, and a member of an aristocracy which was old before we were thought of! Surely you cannot cla.s.s Prince Maiyo amongst those to whom any of your country people could take exception."

Penelope shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"Perhaps," she said, "my feeling is the result of hearing you all praise him so much and so often. Besides, apart from that, you must remember that I am a patriotic daughter of the Stars and Stripes, and there isn't much friendship lost between Washington and Tokio just now."

The d.u.c.h.ess turned away to greet a man who had paused before their couch on his way into the restaurant.

"My dear General," she said, "it seems to me that one meets every one here! Why was not restaurant dining the vogue when I was a girl!"

General Sherrif smiled. He was tall and thin, with grizzled hair and worn features. Notwithstanding his civilian's clothes, there was no possibility of mistaking him anywhere, or under any circ.u.mstances, for anything but a soldier.

"It is a delightful custom," he admitted. "It keeps one always on the _qui vive_; one never knows whom one may see. Incidentally, I find it interferes very much with my digestion."

"Digestion!" the d.u.c.h.ess murmured. "But then, you soldiers lead such irregular lives."

"Not always from choice," the General reminded her. "The Russo-j.a.panese war finished me off. They kept us far enough away from the fighting, when they could, but, by Jove, they did make us move!"

"We are waiting now for Prince Maiyo," the d.u.c.h.ess remarked. "You know him?"

"Know him!" the General answered. "d.u.c.h.ess, if ever I have to write my memoirs, and particularly my reminiscences of this war, I fancy you would find the name of your friend appear there pretty frequently. There wasn't a more brilliant feat of arms in the whole campaign than his flanking movement at Mukden. I met most of the j.a.panese leaders, and I have always said that I consider him the most wonderful of them all."

The d.u.c.h.ess turned to Penelope.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

Penelope smiled.

"The Fates are against me," she declared. "If I may not like, I shall at least be driven to admire."

"To talk of bravery when one speaks of that war," the General remarked, "seems invidious, for it is my belief that throughout the whole of the j.a.panese army such a thing as fear did not exist. They simply did not know what the word meant. But I shall never forget that the only piece of hand-to-hand fighting I saw during the whole time was a cavalry charge led by Prince Maiyo against an immensely superior force of Russians. d.u.c.h.ess," the General declared, "those j.a.panese on their queer little horses went through the enemy like wind through a cornfield. That young man must have borne a charmed life. I saw him riding and cheering his men on when he must have had at least half a dozen wounds in his body. You will pardon me, d.u.c.h.ess? I see that my party are waiting."

The General hurried away. The d.u.c.h.ess shut up her lorgnettes with a snap, and held out her hand to a newcomer who had come from behind the palms.

"My dear Prince," she exclaimed, "this is charming of you! Some one told me that you were not well,--our wretched climate, of course--and I was so afraid, every moment, that we should receive your excuses."

The newcomer, who was bowing over her hand, was of medium height or a trifle less, dark, and dressed with the quiet exactness of an English gentleman. Only a slight narrowness of the eyes and a greater alertness of movement seemed to distinguish him in any way, as regards nationality, from the men by whom he was surrounded. His voice, when he spoke, contained no trace of accent. It was soft and singularly pleasant. It had, too, one somewhat rare quality--a delightful ring of truth. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Prince Maiyo was just then, amongst certain circles, one of the most popular persons in Society.

"My dear d.u.c.h.ess," he said, "my indisposition was nothing. And as for your climate, I am beginning to delight in it,--one never knows what to expect, or when one may catch a glimpse of the sun. It is only the grayness which is always the same."

"And even that," the d.u.c.h.ess remarked, smiling, "has been yellow for the last few days. Prince, you know my daughter Grace, and I am sure that you have met Miss Penelope Morse? We are waiting for two other men, Sir Charles Somerfield and Mr. Vanderpole."

The Prince bowed, and began to talk to his hostess' daughter,--a tall, fair girl, as yet only in her second season.

"Here comes Sir Charles, at any rate!" the d.u.c.h.ess exclaimed. "Really, I think we shall have to go in. We can leave a message for d.i.c.ky; they all know him at this place. I am afraid he is one of those shocking young men who entertain the theatrical profession here to supper."

A footman at that moment brought a note to the d.u.c.h.ess, which she tore open.

"This is from d.i.c.ky!" she exclaimed, glancing it through quickly,--"Savoy notepaper, too, so I suppose he has been here. He says that he may be a few minutes late and that we are not to wait. He will pick us up either here or at the theatre. Prince, shall we let these young people follow us? I haven't heard your excuses yet. Do you know that you were a quarter of an hour late?"

He bent towards her with troubled face.

"Dear d.u.c.h.ess," he said, "believe me, I am conscious of my fault. An unexpected matter, which required my personal attention, presented itself at the last moment. I think I can a.s.sure you that nothing of its sort was ever accomplished so quickly. It would only weary you if I tried to explain."

"Please don't," the d.u.c.h.ess begged, "so long as you are here at last.

And after all, you see, you are not the worst sinner. Mr. Vanderpole has not yet arrived."

The Prince walked on, for a few steps, in silence.

"Mr. Vanderpole is a great friend of yours, d.u.c.h.ess?" he asked.

The d.u.c.h.ess shook her head.

"I do not know him very well," she said. "I asked him for Penelope."

The Prince looked puzzled.

"But I thought," he said, "that Miss Morse and Sir Charles--"

The d.u.c.h.ess interrupted him with a smile.