The Princess Passes Volume 56 by Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson (great book club books .txt) 📕

As I Rushed Forward To Claim Him As My Own, Molly And Jack Came Out Of

The Hotel.

"Monty!" Jack Cried, With A Sincerity Of Joy Which Warmed My Heart.

As For His Wife, She Cried Not At All, But Merely Gasped.

"What Luck For Me!" I Exclaimed, Shaking Both Molly's Hands So Hard

That It Was Fortunate (As She Remarked Afterwards) That She Had On

"Only Her Rainy-Day Rings." "I Did Hope To Hear Of You At Grenoble,

But Scarcely Dared Think Of Actually Meeting You, Even There. In Two

Minutes More I Should Have Been On The Way To Catch My Train."

"Here's Your Train, Old Man," Said Jack, Indicating The Throbbing

Automobile.

"My One True Love, Mercédès," I Remarked, Looking Fondly At The Car.

"Sh!" Whispered Molly, With An Odd Little Sound Which Was Like A

Giggle Strangled At Birth. "She's There."

"Who?" I Started, Bewildered.

"Mercédès."

"I Know; The Darling! I Long To Have My Hands On Her Again."

"Oh, Lord Lane, Do Be Careful! You Don't Understand. I Mean The Real

Mercédès. The Girl Who Gave Me The Car. She's Sitting There. She'll

Hear You."

"It's All Right," Said Jack. "The Motor's Making Such A Row, She

Wouldn't Catch The Words."

"She Joined Us H--Lately," Explained Molly Hurriedly.

"I Remember Now. You Used To Talk Rather A Lot About Her And Want Us

To Meet."

"Well, You Have Your Wish Now, Dearie," Jack Chimed In. "You Can

Introduce Them With Your Own Fair Hand."

"Wait--Wait." Molly Whispered Piteously, As Jack Would Have Taken A

Step Forward, And Pulled Me With Him, A Peculiarly Dare-Devil Look In

His Handsome Eyes. "For _Goodness'_ Sake, Jack!"

Her Voice Restrained Him, And Again We Were In Conclave. "You See,

Lord Lane, It's Rather Awkward. We Want You To Go On With Us,

Immensely, But----"

"You're Awfully Good," I Hastily Cut In. "But I Quite See, And I

Couldn't Think Of----"

"Oh, Please, That Isn't What I Meant. Now, Will You And Jack Both Be

Quite Quiet, Like Angels, And Let Me Talk For A While, Till I Make

Everything Clear To Everybody, About Everybody Else. Don't Grin. I

Know I'm Not Beginning Well, But The Beginning's The Difficult Part.

We Wrote To You, Lord Lane, To Grenoble, Saying We Would Be Arriving

About As Soon As You Got The Letter. We Didn't Know Whether We Could

Tear You Away From Your Mule Or Not; But Anyhow, We Should Have Seen

Each Other And Got Each Other's News. Then This Friend Of Mine Joined

Us Unexpectedly; At Least, We Thought We Might Meet Her, But We

Weren't At All Sure She Would Want To Travel With Us. However, Here

She Is, And She's A Perfect Dear; And Next To Jack And Dad I Love Her

Better Than Anybody Else In The World. Besides, She Gave Me The Car;

And You Know I Told You How Ill She Had Been, And How She Was

Travelling For Her Health. Altogether We Have To Consider Her Before

Anyone; And I Want To Know, Lord Lane, If You'll Think Me A Regular

Little Beast If I Speak To Her First, Before We Arrange Anything?"

I Opened My Lips To Answer With A Complimentary Protest, But Before I

Could Frame A Word, She Had Rushed To The Two Mercédès, Her Mushroom

Hanging Limp In Her Hand, And Had Entered Into A Low-Voiced

Conversation With The Human Namesake.

"Look Here, Jack; I Wouldn't Put You Out For The World," I Said. "As

For Tearing Myself From The Mule, That Surgical Operation Has Already

Been Performed, And I Was Going On To Monte Carlo----"

"That's Our Goal," Cut In Jack. "Molly Maligned The Place Of Old Days.

Now I Want Her To Do It Justice. You And I Will Show Her Monte At Its

Best."

"Yes, But I'll Go Down By Rail, And Meet You There."

"You'll Do Nothing Of The Kind. Molly's Friend Is One Of The Most

Charming Girls Alive, But She Has Passed Through A Great Trouble,

Followed By A Severe Illness. She Came To Us In Some Distress Of Mind,

And We Are Bound, As Molly Says, To Consider Her, As She May Not Think

Herself Equal To Intercourse With Strangers. However, All That's

Necessary Is To Explain You To Her, As I Am Now Explaining Her To You,

And The Thing Settles Itself. There Can Be No Question Of Your Not

Going On With Us. You And Mercédès Won't Interfere With Each Other In

The Least, Because, You See, Now That You've Turned Up, The Thing Is

To Get Down Quietly, And--And Enjoy Ourselves At The Journey's End.

We'll Make A Rush Of It. In Any Case, Molly Would Have Sat In The

Tonneau With Her Friend, And The Only Difference You Will Make In Our

Arrangements Is That I Shall Have You As A Companion In Front Instead

Of Gotteland."

At This Moment Our Fair Emissary Returned From The Enemy's Camp.

"Mercédès Says That Not For Anything Would She Cheat Us Out Of Your

Company," Announced Molly. "Only She Hopes You Won't Think Her Rude

And Horrid If She Doesn't Talk. There's Her Message; But I Really

Think, Lord Lane, That The Best Thing Is To Take No Notice Of The Poor

Child. She Is Very Nervous And Upset Still, But I Hope In A Few Days

She Will Be Herself Again. I Won't Even Introduce You To Her. She And

I Will Sit In The Tonneau, As Quiet As Two Kittens, While You And Jack

In Front Can Talk Over All Your Adventures Since You Met, And Forget

Our Existence. We Shan't Be So Very Long On The Way, Shall We, Jack?"

I Began Another "But," Which Was Scornfully Disregarded By Both Jack

And Molly. I Might As Well Consent Now, As Later, They Said, Since

They Would Simply Refuse To Leave Chambéry Without Me, And The Longer

I Took To See Reason, The More _Essence_ Would The Motor Be Wasting.

Thus Adjured, I Allowed Myself To Be Hustled Off To My Hotel By Jack,

Who Insisted On Accompanying Me Lest I Should Turn Traitor On The Way.

In Ten Minutes Gotteland Would Drive The Car To The Door Of The

France, And I Was Expected To Be Ready By That Time. My Packing Had

Been Done Before I Went Out, By The United Efforts Of A _Valet De

Chambre_ And Myself; But Now All Had To Be Undone Again; My Motoring

Coat (Unused For Weeks And Aged In Appearance By As Many Years)

Dragged Up From The Lowest Stratum With My Goblin-Goggles, And A Few

Small Things Dashed Into A Weird Travelling Bag Which A Confused

Porter Rushed Out To Buy At A Neighbouring Shop. While I Settled The

Hotel Bill, Jack Arranged To Have My Portmanteau Expressed To

Grenoble, And By A Scramble Our Tasks Were Finished When The Voice Of

The Car Called Us To The Door.

The Whole Incident Had Happened So Quickly, That I Had No Time To

Realise The Change In My Circumstances, When, "Sole, Like A Falling

Star," The Motor "Shot Through The Pillared Town" With Me On Board.

There Had Been A Time When I Shrank From The Name Of The Car's Giver,

Believing That Molly Thrust It Too Obviously Into Notice. When "That

Dear Girl Mercédès" Had Threatened To Enter Our Conversations I Had

Often Kept Her Out By Force; But Now It Seemed That I, Not She, Was

The Intruder, And In A Far More Material Way. This Was, Perhaps,

Poetical Justice, But I Did Not Grudge It, Since It Was Evident That

Molly No Longer Cherished The Intention Of Dangling Her Friend The

Heiress Before Me Like A Brilliant Fly Over The Nose Of An Impecunious

Trout. On The Contrary, She Warned Me Off The Premises. We Were To

Hurry Down To Monte Carlo As Quickly As Possible, That The Situation

Might Not Be Overstrained. Mercédès In The Tonneau, I In The Front

Seat, Were To Live And Let Live During The Rapid Journey, And This Was

Well.

I Dimly Remembered That, In The First Days Of Our Journey In Search Of

A Mule, Molly Had Vaunted Her Friend's Beauty, But The Silver-Grey

Mushroom Prevented Me From Verifying Or Disproving This Statement. The

Small, Triangular Talc Window Was Greyly-Opaque, Or Else There Was A

Grey Veil Underneath; My One Glance Had Not Told Me Which, And I

Neither Dared Nor Desired To Steal Another.

Jack Supplied The Blanks In Our Somewhat Broken Correspondence, By

Skimming Over The Details Of Their Doings; How They Had Spent Most Of

Their Time Since Our Parting In Switzerland; How They Had Arrived At

Aix-Les-Bains The Very Morning We Left For Mont Revard; And How They

Had Motored To Chambéry Yesterday Afternoon.

"Think Of My Being In The Same Town With You For More Than Twelve

Hours, And Not Knowing It!" I Exclaimed. "To Borrow An Expression Of

Mrs. Winston's, I Was Jolly 'Low In My Mind' Last Night, And The Very

Thought That You Two Were Close By Would Have Been Cheering."

I Had Not Dared Address Myself To Molly In The Other Camp, But

Evidently All Communication Between The Lines Was Not To Be Broken

Off. The Wind Must Have Carried My Words To Her Ear, For She Bent

Forward, Leaning Her Arm On The Back Of Our Seat.

"Did You Say You Were Miserable Last Night?" She Inquired With

Flattering Eagerness.

"Yes. Awfully Miserable."

"Poor Lord Lane! I Haven't Understood Yet Exactly Why You Suddenly

Gave Up Your Walking Tour, And Got The Idea Of Going On By Rail. I

Thought From Your Letters You Were Having Such A Good Time, That We

Could Hardly Bribe You To Desert--Your Party And Come With Us, Even At

Grenoble."

"My Party Deserted Me, And That Was The End Of My 'Good Time,'" I

Replied, Charmed With Molly's Conception Of The Rôle Of A "Quiet

Kitten" Whose Existence Was To Be Forgotten. As If Any Man Could Ever

Forget Hers!

"What, Your Nice Joseph And His Finois?" She Inquired.

"When I Speak Of 'My Party' I Refer Particularly To The Boy I Wrote

You About," I Returned, Far From Averse To Being Drawn Out On The

Subject Of My Troubles, Though I Had Resolved, Were I Not Intimately

Questioned, To Let Them Prey Upon My Damask Cheek.

"Oh, Yes, That Wonderful American Boy. Did He Keep Right On Being

Wonderful All The Time, Or Did He Turn Out Disappointing In The End?"

"Disappointing!" I Echoed. "No; Rather