“She is all that!” said Cathcart enthusiastically. “Now you can understand why Adams congratulated you; and why he was so surprised when you did not seem to know who she was.” I stood for a moment thinking, and all the clouds which wrapped Marjory’s purpose in mystery seemed to disperse. This, then, was why she allowed the error of her name to pass. She had not made an incognita; chance had done this for her, and she had simply accepted it. Doubtless, wearied with praise and with publicity and notoriety in all its popular forms, she was glad to get away and hide herself for a while. Fortune had thrown in her way a man who was manifestly ignorant of her very existence; and it was a pleasure to play with him at hide-and-seek!
It was, after all, an up-to-date story of the Princess in disguise; and I was the young man, all unknowing, with whom she had played.
Here a terrible doubt assailed me. Other Princesses had played hide-and-seek; and, having had their sport, had vanished; leaving desolation and an empty heart behind them. Was it possible that she too was like this; that she had been all the while playing with me; that even whilst she was being most gracious, she was taking steps to hide even her whereabouts from me? Here was I, who had even proposed marriage; and yet who did not even know when or where I should see her again—if indeed I should ever see her again at all. I could not believe it. I had looked into her eyes, and had seen the truth. Here was no wanton playing at bowls with men’s hearts. My life upon her faith!
I seemed to have lost myself in a sort of trance. I was recalled from it by Cathcart, who seeing me in a reverie had gone over to the fireplace and stood with his back to me, filling his pipe at the mantel-piece:
“I think I hear Adams coming. Pardon me, old fellow, but though I am sure he knows I have told you about Miss Drake, and though he probably made an excuse for delay so that I might have an opportunity to do so, he wants to appear not to enter on the subject. He is diplomat all over. Remember he is of the U. S. Embassy; and Miss Drake, as an American citizen, is theoretically under his care in this foreign country. Let us be talking of something else when he comes in!” Sam came along the passage softly whistling a bar of “Yankee Doodle.” Cathcart nodded to me and whispered:
“I told you so! He takes good care that he may not surprise us.” When he came in we were talking of the prospects of the Autumn fishing on the Dee.
When we left Cathcart’s room, after a cigar, I, being somewhat tired with my long ride, went at once to my room. Adams came with me as far as the door.
I was just getting into bed when I heard a slight tap at the door. I unlocked it and found Adams without. He raised a warning hand, and said in a whisper:
“May I come in? I want to say something very privately.” More than ever mystified—everything seemed a mystery now—I opened the door. He came in and I closed it softly and locked it.