“Quite.” Usk turned to his host with ready deference. “A fair-sized man, I should say—looks as though he had been born in uniform, as all those Germans do. Hair brushed straight back, rather à la scrubbing-brush, as far as I could see, big pince-nez, a sort of nondescript brown moustache, with the points turned up fiercely. I think that must have been dyed, though, for his hair was grey behind.”
“Yes,” said Mr Steinherz meditatively, “he is pretty well along—older than I am. He was in Venetia in the ’Sixties—made his name there. And it wasn’t a particularly sweet name, either. I guess a good few Italians have unfulfilled vows of vengeance out against him yet.”
“Say, pappa!” broke in Félicia; “how did you get to know that much about a no-account German prince?”
“Well, daughter, I don’t see but I must have heard it from the Italian clerk I had once,” was the leisurely reply, which silenced Félicia for the time, since she knew well enough that the clerk in question had been dismissed for falling in love with his employer’s daughter. Maimie, always watchful on her friend’s behalf, changed the subject, and it was not until the meal was over that her efforts to keep the peace failed. Usk had been anxious to escort the ladies this evening to a concert at which some bright particular star was announced to appear, but Mr Steinherz vetoed the proposal rather summarily, regardless of his daughter’s rebellious looks. Most unjustly Félicia made Usk suffer for her disappointment, sitting bored and silent all evening, and sweeping Maimie off to bed at a ridiculously early hour, on the plea of a headache. Maimie offered no objection to the imperious summons, but took occasion to drop her handkerchief just outside the sitting-room door. Returning to fetch it as soon as Félicia was safe in her own room, she heard Usk taking his leave.
“May I call upon you in the morning?” he asked of Mr Steinherz. “I should like—— There is—— I want to ask you something.”
“State it right now,” was the unexpected answer. “I am having a vacation this evening, thanks to Félicia’s nervous attack.”
Maimie shook with silent laughter, for she guessed that Usk found some difficulty in unfolding his request now that the opportunity was thus suddenly thrust upon him. He muttered something about “Very important,” to which Mr Steinherz responded by a cordial invitation to discuss the matter in his office, where they would be safe from interruption. The room was a small one, with one door from the corridor into which all the apartments of the Steinherzes’ suite opened, and another from the sitting-room, and in it Mr Steinherz spent most of his time, and received all his business visitors, in an atmosphere of smoke. Maimie reviewed the position swiftly, as she heard the door between the study and the sitting-room close with a decisive slam. Félicia was fortunately in the hands of her maid by this time, and the brushing of her hair alone might be relied upon to keep her occupied for an hour at least, but it was out of the question to listen at the door in the corridor, for the hotel servants were constantly passing. Moreover, if the discussion were to be conducted in lower tones, it would be very difficult to hear it through the door. The only hope was the balcony, upon which the windows of both rooms looked, and Maimie opened the sitting-room door very softly, leaving it slightly ajar so as to afford a way of escape, and crossing the room on tiptoe, put her head out cautiously. As she had expected, the warmth and beauty of the night had tempted the two men to sit at the open window of the office, and she could see the tip of one of Mr Steinherz’s shoes. The odour of his cigar reached her as she sat crouched inside her own window, leaning forward as far as she dared, and she heard him chaffing Usk upon the length of time it took an Englishman to strike a match. Apparently the match refused to strike at all, and Usk laid down his cigar in despair, for presently Mr Steinherz said “Well?” in a half-authoritative, half-humorous tone which rejoiced the listener exceedingly.
“Mr Steinherz,” returned Usk with a sudden burst of frankness, “I love your daughter. May I ask her to marry me?”
Maimie thought she could imagine the quizzical glance under which the unhappy suitor would be writhing, but she was electrified by the words which answered him.
“Stop right there!” said Mr Steinherz decisively. “We will take those words as unsaid, if you please. I was not expecting them until a later stage of the proceedings, and there are some circumstances with which I guess you ought to get acquainted before you utter them.”