I shouted with happiness.
“A thousand worlds could not separate me from Centauri, if what you tell me is true,” I cried. “I will remain—give up everything—but it is too much happiness—you exaggerate—to-night I will know. Have you all forgotten the Vespa Prince?”
A pang quivered through me; my spirits ebbed as I mentioned the name, but my friends’ laughter renewed courage and vanity—with a swoop doubts vanished. Thank Heaven! I had won. Alpha Centauri was mine; mine forever. I laughed joyously.
Sheldon’s sharp eyes twinkled as he twitted me of my love.
“The Vespa Prince!” he jeeringly remarked, “you overdo your little act. When one is beloved there are no rivals—you know it. The superb Alpha thinks, dreams of just one man—Virgillius. The Prince is the final act of a comedy, unnecessary, witless. He cares not a rap for the peerless Alpha. He was sent here to work as much mischief as possible, then come home again. The King is a vindictive old cuss, thinks his son invincible, and the fair Alpha showed scant courtesy to the old boy, and the Prince is full of ginger. The people here have jollied the young fellow along because he’s a pretty boy, even old Centauri said he was a fine specimen. The remarkable change noted in the wondrous Alpha since your advent has roused universal discussion, and scientists aver she is gradually degenerating to the level of primeval womanhood. Virgillius, you seem foolishly timid, this mystical woman has fascinated you. You forget women have always been your—er—inspiration, and you have yet to meet defeat. You have loved before and many times as deeply as you do now; this affair is not more serious than the others. Lay aside passion for one cold little moment; think, my boy, calmly, soberly; do not be an ass.
“Powers above! why don’t men cultivate more thought in such emergencies? At any rate one thing is certain, you return with us. You have to; friends would think we’d made away with you—we’re all so handsomely provided for in your will. What a peck of trouble you’re giving us anyhow!” he snapped, suddenly grown irritable; “you act like a pup!”
“Oh, let him remain and be damned!” bawled Saunders.
I gesticulated impatiently, trying to speak, but Saunders; crabbed, peppery little Saunders, would hear nothing. His voice squeaked high with temper.
“Let him remain, I say! Don’t waste time over him. We’re not going yet, so let him marry this wonderful creature, and I’ll warrant he’ll soon be in more haste to depart than we.”
“Say, friends, let the boy alone,” laughingly cried Saxe., coming to my rescue. “Let him enjoy all the happiness possible out of the affair. He and I will discuss later our departure. Virgillius was always a favorite of Folly. We’ll talk this matter over again, meantime be merry.”