When, at last, they arrived, the Princess was one of the first to land, and she hastened up the narrow path to the grove above. Although in haste to greet her father, she paused among the big trees to inhale the piney fragrance. With a smile of rapture she gazed upward and about. These old friends! How unchanged! And how many years they carried her back! As a very little girl her imagination had revelled without restraint and, to her heart’s desire, in this enchanted grove. And now she was listening to the old-time murmurings, high above–the 189same plaintive whispering–the familiar voices, never to be forgotten–that told her everything a little girl could wish to hear, and whenever she cared to hear it.
But she lingered for a moment only. With eager steps she hurried toward the cottage–picturing to herself an old gentleman’s amazement when he recognized his visitor.
The door was open. She stood upon the threshold and looked in–and listened. No sound came to her ears except from the old clock behind the door. How familiar this solemn warning of the passing time! It seemed a part of her youth, left behind and suddenly found again. But her heart was beating many times faster than the stately ticking of this passionless machine. Silently she entered and stood beside the table. She saw the hangings, the pictures, the busts, the furniture, precisely as she had known them, years ago.
From behind the tapestry came a sound, faintly, as of some one moving. She smiled and there was a quivering of the lips. Then, in a low but clear voice, she said:
“Petit père”
190XV
REVELATIONS
The rustle of a sudden movement–and an exclamation half suppressed–came from within the chamber. Then the tapestry was pushed aside.
The Princess, at sight of the figure that emerged, took a backward step, her smile of welcome supplanted by a look of wonder. Another woman stood before her, also pausing in surprise, a hand still holding the tapestry. This woman was young and slight of figure, erect, dark-haired, and sunburned. In a single glance the quick eye of the Princess took in a number of details. She noticed that the stranger wore a jacket so faded that no trace of its original color remained; that the skirt, equally faded, was also stained and patched. But to the critical Parisian it was obvious that these garments, although threadbare, frayed, and weather-beaten, fitted extremely well.