by J. C. Snaith
CHAPTER XIX
HER ROYAL HIGHNESS RECEIVES A LETTER
Pledged to secrecy, Mrs. Arbuthnot earned a meed of praise for herbehaviour during a crowded and glorious epoch. If you entertain theCrown Princess of an active and potent monarchy it is reasonable toexpect that things will happen.
Things did happen in some profusion during the sojourn of her RoyalHighness at Dympsfield House. Owing to the course taken by eventswhich I shall have presently to narrate, that sojourn was prolongedindefinitely. The resources of our modest establishment were taxed tothe uttermost, but throughout a really trying period it is due to Mrs.Arbuthnot to say that she was a model of tact, discretion, and naturalgoodness.
She would have been unworthy the name of woman--a title not withoutpretensions to honour, as sociologists inform us--had she not literallyburned to communicate her knowledge of the true identity of "the circusrider from Vienna." But some compensation was culled from the factthat her co-workers in the cause of the Public Decency grewincreasingly lofty in their point of view. Even the promptings of ahealthy human curiosity would not permit Mrs. Catesby to eat at ourboard in order that she might see for herself. Mournfully that womanof an unblemished virtue shook her head over us.
"It was not kind to dear Evelyn. It was right, of course, tosympathise with the Fitzwarens in their misfortune. But the place wasold, and George understood that it was covered by insurance. Andfortunately all the pictures that were worth anything--and some thatwere not--had been saved. But to take them under one's wing as we haddone was quixotic and bound to give offence. Besides, that kind ofperson would be quite in her element at the village inn, the Coach andHorses."
Nevertheless, Mrs. Arbuthnot bore every reproof with a stoicalfortitude. What it cost her "not to give away the show," to indulge inthe phrase of Joseph Jocelyn De Vere, it would be idle to estimate.But she was true to the oath she had sworn on the night of the greatrevelation. Not to a living soul did she yield her secret.
To Jodey himself what he was pleased to call "the royal visit" was amatter for undiluted joy. It is true that he was turned out of hisbedroom, the best in the house, which commands an unrivalled view ofKnollington Gorse, and had to be content with humbler quarters; but ourBayard was so perfectly _au courant_ with all that had happened, evenunto the presence of the four men in plain clothes in the shrubbery,that the situation was much to his taste.
When the Princess was not herself present, it pleased him to treat thewhole thing as a matter for somewhat laborious satire.
"Ain't you got a bit o' red carpet and an awning for the front steps,Mops? And why don't Odo sport his order at dinner? Can't see the use,myself, in having an order if you don't sport it for royalty. Must putyour best leg first. Buck up a bit, old gal, else her Royal 'Ighnesswill think you haven't been used to it. Anyhow, you must tell Parkinsto be damn careful how he decants that '63."
In the presence of Mrs. Fitz, however, the demeanour of my relation bymarriage was not unlike that of a linesman standing at attention on afield day. His deportment was so fearfully correct in every detail;his attire so extraordinarily nice--he discarded gay waistcoats andbrilliant neckties as being hardly "the thing"--his hair was groomed somarvellously, and he was so overpoweringly polite that it was a sourceof wonder how the young fellow contrived to maintain the standard hehad prescribed for himself.
It was a period of anxiety, yet it was not without its interest. In avery short time Mrs. Arbuthnot had divined the _raison d'etre_ of thefour men in the park, but this did nothing to impair her sense ofhospitality. Fitz did not favour us with much of his company except inthe evening. During the day his energies were absorbed with thearrangements for the rebuilding of the Grange, and, as I gathered, withfurther provisions for the safety of his wife. All the same, limitedas was the time at his disposal, it was our privilege to watch himsustain the domestic character.
Whatever the incongruity of their fortunes, it was clear that Fitz andhis wife had a genuine devotion for one another. And in spite of theirapartness and the idea they conveyed of living entirely to themselveswithout reference to the lives of humbler mortals, each seemed topossess a quality worthy to inspire it. In a measure I was privilegedto share their confidence during the time they stayed under our roof;and it was characteristic of them both that at heart they had a rathercharming and childlike frankness. Each of them revealed unexpectedqualities.
I think I am entitled to say that I never shared the hostility theyseemed to arouse in others. All his life long Fitz, as far as I hadknown him, had been condemned to play the part of the black sheep.Partly it may have been due to his habit of refusing to go with thetide; of his declared hatred of any kind of a majority. He had alwaysbeen a law unto himself, and had given a very free rein to hispersonality. To me he had ever stood revealed as one capable ofanything; of the greatest good or of the greatest evil; and to beholdhim now in the domestic circle, in close affinity with the magneticbeing in whom the whole of his life was centred, was to find himendowed with a charm and a fascination which had no place in the natureof the Nevil Fitzwaren that was seen by the eyes of the world.
To me there was something beautiful and also a little pathetic in therelationship which seemed to exist between these two diverse souls.Their implicit faith in the rightness of each other, their sense ofadequacy, was a very rare thing. So many of the ignoble things oflife, questions of material expediency, of shallow prejudice, ofpartial judgment, they seemed to have ruled out altogether. And thiscould not have been otherwise if one reflected that a veritable kingdomof this world was the price that had been paid for this true fellowship.
My previous encounters with Mrs. Fitz had been of a somewhat tryingnature. But on the domestic hearth she was much less formidable. Theimpetuous arrogance which had proved so disconcerting to everybody wasnot so much in evidence. Her charm seemed to become rarefied as itgrew more humane. The childlike directness of her point of view beganto emerge more and more and to enhance her fascination; indeed, her wayof looking at things became a perpetual delight to such sophisticatedminds as ours.
Her total inability to take us seriously was quite piquant. OurEngland and all that was in it amused her vastly. She would compare itto an enchanted land in one of Perrault's fairy-tales. But our code oflife, our manners and customs, our ideals, our mechanical contrivancesand, above all, our solemnity concerning them, never failed to appealto her sense of humour.
It was my especial pleasure to converse with her after dinner. Ishould not say that the art of conversation was her strong point, andit was not until she had been a week in our midst that I was able tocome to anything approaching close quarters with her. But it was worthmaking the effort to get past the barrier that was unconsciouslyerected by her air of disillusion, of patient, plaintive tolerance.
There was a quaint definiteness about her ideas. Touching allquestions that had real significance her thinking seemed to have beendone for her generations ago. All that lay outside the life of theemotions was to her the wearisome iteration of a constitutionalpractice, a necessary but somewhat painful part of the order of things.
Perhaps the most surprising thing about her was her humility. The pompof kingship was to her the hollowest of all chimeras. It merelyresolved itself into the guardianship of a profoundly ignorant, anundeveloped and an extremely thankless proletariat. "_Helas!_ poorsouls, they don't know what is good," was a phrase she used with amaternal sigh. The divine right of kings was part and parcel of thecosmic order; a fact as pregnant and inviolable as the presence of thesun and the planets in the firmament. To be called to the state ofkingship was an extremely honourable condition, "but you had always tobe praying." It was also honourable and not so irksome to be anunregarded unit of the proletariat.
I am not sure, but I incline to the belief, that the fact that I had aseat in the House enabled her to support my curiosity with moretolerance than she might have done had I been without some sort ofofficial sanction. S
he regarded me as a chosen servant of _le bon roiEdouard_; either my own personal grace or that of my kindred hadcommended itself to the guardian of the state.
"Are not," said I, "the members of the Illyrian Parliament elected bythe people?"
"Yes, my father gave the people the franchise in 1890, and the nobleshave never forgiven him. So now the people choose their sixty deputiesout of a list he draws up for their guidance; the lords of the landchoose another sixty from among themselves; and then, as so oftenhappens, if the two Chambers cannot agree, the King gives advice."
"The King of Illyria has heavy duties!"
"My father loves hard work."
"Are you troubled, ma'am, with a democratic movement in Illyria, as allthe rest of Europe appears to be at the present time?"
The gesture of her Royal Highness was one of pity.
"_Helas_, poor souls!"
It was delicate ground upon which to tread. But the fascination ofsuch an inquiry lured me on where doubtless the canons of good tastewould have had me stay.
"Would you not say, ma'am, your Republican Party was a menace to thestate?"
"They don't know what is good, poor souls." Her voice was gentle."They will have to learn."
"Will the King be the means of teaching them?"
"_Helas!_ he is too old. It must be left to fate. Poor souls, poorsouls!"
During the sojourn of her Royal Highness at Dympsfield House, we saw agood deal of the Chief Constable of our county. In a sense he had madehimself responsible for the safety of us all. His vigilance was great,and its unobtrusiveness was part of the man. No precaution wasneglected which could minister to our security; and he gave hispersonal attention to matters of detail which less thorough-goingindividuals might have considered to be beneath their notice.
He was particularly insistent that the Princess should give up herhunting, and that she should confine the scope of her activities, asfar as possible, to the grounds of the house. To this she was not inthe least amenable. An out-and-out believer in fate, and a subscriberto the doctrine of what has to be will be, the bullets of the anarchisthad no terrors for her. To Coverdale's annoyance, she continued tohunt in spite of his solemn and repeated warnings. And when he wasmoved to remonstrate with Fitz upon the subject, he met with the reply,"She pleases herself entirely."
"But, my dear fellow," said the Chief Constable, "surely you must knowthat she is exposing herself to grave risks."
"If a thing seems good to her she does it," was Fitz's unprofitablerejoinder.
The great man was frankly annoyed.
"That is very wrong, to my mind," he said with some heat. "It isunfair to those who have made themselves responsible for her safety."
"It is a question of free-will," said Fitz, "and she knows far moreabout that than most people. And when it comes to a matter of choosingright, she has a special faculty."
So inconclusive a reply merely ministered to the wrath of the ChiefConstable, who in private complained to me bitterly.
"I wish to heaven they would quit the country," he said. "They are asource of endless worry and expense. We do all we can to help them,and I must say the Yard is wonderful, yet they can't be induced to takethe most elementary precautions. I regret now, Arbuthnot, that I urgedyou to shelter them. I had hoped they were rational and sensiblepeople, but I now find they are not."
"You think, Coverdale, the danger is as real as ever?"
"Frankly I do. Ferdinand the Twelfth has played it up so high inIllyria that the Republicans are determined to make an end of themonarchy."
"But didn't she renounce her right to the throne when she married Fitz?"
"In effect she may have done so, but the Illyrian law of successionwill not contemplate such an act. Ferdinand makes no secret of thefact, apparently, that he will compel her to marry the Archduke Joseph,and that she must succeed to the throne."
"How is it possible for him to give effect to his will?"
"He is a strong man, and if he sets his mind upon a particular courseof action few have been able to deny him."
"Then you think her marriage with Fitz is merely an episode in what islikely to be a brilliant but stormy career?"
"Always provided it is not cut short by one of those bullets it is ourduty to anticipate. I can only tell you that the Foreign Office is nowvery anxious to get her out of the country, and that if they dared theywould deport her."
"Ho, ho!"
An academic admirer of our constitutional practice, I was fain toindulge in a whistle.
"And, strictly between ourselves," said the Chief Constable, "if onlythe right government were in, deported she would be."
"A fine proceeding, I am bound to say, for a country with ourpretensions to liberalism!"
"Under the rose, of course." The Chief Constable permitted himself adour smile. "I daresay it would make a precedent, and yet one is notso sure about that. But one thing I am sure about, and that is thatsome of us are devilish unpopular in high places. They would not beaverse from making things rather warm for certain individuals who shallbe nameless. They are pretty well agreed that we ought to have keptour fingers out of the pie. As old L. said to me yesterday, she hasgot to leave the country, and the sooner she goes the better it will befor all concerned."
All this tended to bring no comfort to the married man, the father ofthe family, and the county member. If anything, it deepened hisanxiety.
It is only just to state, however, that this feeling was not shared byMrs. Arbuthnot. To be sure, she was not acquainted with all thathappened. But as far as she was concerned the element of danger in thecase was an essential and rather delightful concomitant to its romance.
The Vane-Anstruther hyper-sensitiveness to that mysterious ideal "goodform" rendered it necessary that Mrs. Arbuthnot should perform avolte-face. This she proceeded to do with really amazing completenessand efficiency. No sooner was the true identity of our visitorestablished, than, as far as the ruler of Dympsfield House wasconcerned, there was an end of the circus rider from Vienna and all herworks. The ingrained Vane-Anstruther reverence for royalty, due I haveever been led to believe to an uncle who held a Household appointment,received full play. The lightest whim of the Princess--except beforethe servants it was ever the Princess--was law.
Mrs. Arbuthnot did not go without a reward. Such an incursion did shemake upon the royal regard that in a surprisingly short time she wasaddressed as Irene, and about the end of the first week of the visitthe intelligence was confided to me that the Princess had asked to becalled Sonia. Without a doubt we were living in a crowded and gloriousepoch. And I do not think its glamour was in any degree impaired bythe strictures of the world.
It is not too much to say that the Crackanthorpe ladies werescandalised by the open and flagrant treason of Mrs. Arbuthnot. Shehad taken the queen of the sawdust into the bosom of her family.Together they hunted the fox; together they overrode the CrackanthorpeHounds. Loud and bitter were the lamentations of Mrs. Catesby. Thewhole county shook its head.
Mrs. Arbuthnot wore the crown of martyrdom with extraordinary grace andnerve. Her conduct in public was marked by a cynical impropriety, aflagrant audacity at which the world rubbed its eyes and wondered.
"I really believe," said Mrs. Catesby one day as together we made ourway home through the January twilight, "that if Irene belonged to me Ishould chastise her. Can you be unaware that she allows the creatureto call her by her first name? And Laura Glendinning assures me thatwith her own ears she heard her address her as Matilda, or whatever thename is she received in baptism."
"Yes, it's a desperate situation," I agreed, with a sigh which hadperhaps a greater sincerity than it was allowed the credit.
"I hold you entirely responsible," said the Great Lady. "And so doeseverybody who knows the true facts of the case. That deplorableevening at the Savoy--and now you actually find her house-room in orderthat she may demoralise your wife! What a merciful thing it is thatyour dear, good, de
voted mother, the most refined of women, is nolonger with us! By the way, Odo, I suppose you have heard that thereis some talk of asking you to resign your seat?"
"That is news to me, my dear Mary, I assure you."
"The Vicar thinks you ought. He seems to think that if you have anyChristian feeling about things you will do so on your own initiative."
"It is so like the Church of England not to realise that by the time aman reaches the age of forty he has gone over to Buddha."
"I don't know in the least what you mean, but I hope it is nothingimproper. But I can assure you that the Vicar's opinion is shared byothers. The Castle is dreadfully wounded. Poor dear Evelyn will neverforgive it--never! No more fishing in Scotland and no more shooting.At any rate, it will be a mere waste of time and money for you to standagain."
It only remained for me to agree very cordially with Mrs. Catesby, andto confess to surprise that my constituents had not made the discoverysooner.
"But," said I, cheerfully, "here we are at that fine example of lateJacobean art known as Dympsfield House. I would that I could prevailupon you, Mary, to honour our guest by drinking a cup of tea in herpresence. It would be a graceful act which I am sure we should allappreciate."
"I have a conscience, Odo Arbuthnot," said the Great Lady, with aseverity of mien that rendered the announcement superfluous. "Also Ihave some kind of a standard of morals, manners and general conductwhich I strive to live up to."
At the gate I said _au revoir_ to the outraged matron. Having disposedof my horse, I made my way indoors. The ladies had come home in thecar and were at the tea-table already. Among a number of otherweaknesses which go with a strong infusion of the feminine temperament,I confess to a decided partiality for the cup which cheers yet does notinebriate.
Mrs. Arbuthnot was pouring out the tea and her Royal Highness wasstanding in front of the fire. She was reading a letter, and to judgeby her brilliantly expressive countenance, its contents were affordinga good deal of exercise for her emotions.
"I wish, Sonia, I could convert you to cream and sugar," said Mrs.Arbuthnot, declining to entrust the cup to my care, but risingimportantly and personally handing it to the occupant of the hearthrug.
"Oh, no, t'ank you. Lemon _a la Russe_. What a people to take creamand sugar in their tea!"
She enforced her idea of the absurdity by giving Mrs. Arbuthnot aplayfully affectionate pinch of the ear.
"I have a piece of news for you, my child. Now, you must not laugh."
"Oh, no, Sonia, I will not laugh."
The somewhat exaggerated note of Mrs. Arbuthnot's obedience was notunlike that of the model girl of the class being examined by the headmistress.
"Now, Irene, be quite good. Not even a smile." The Princess held up afinger of mock imperiousness. "Dis is most serious. Shall I tell younow, or shall I to-morrow tell you?"
"Oh, please, please," piped Mrs. Arbuthnot, "please tell me at once.Is it those absurd Republicans?"
"Oh no, my child; it is something much more interesting. My father ison his way to England."
In sheer exultation Mrs. Arbuthnot gave a little leap into the air.
"O-oh!" she gasped.
"Think of it, my child! The royal and august one coming to this funnylittle island, where everything is according to Perrault. He is comingwith old Schalk."
"O-oh!" gasped Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"You don't know Schalk. Wait till you have seen Schalk and then youwill die. He will kill you quite. He looks like dis, and he walks so."
Her Royal Highness made a face that was really comic and took a fewsteps across the carpet in imitation of Schalk going to the House ofDeputies.
"Are they _really_ coming?"
"On Thursday they arrive at Southampton."
"They will go straight to Windsor, of course?"
"Oh no, my child; it is not a visit of state. It is quite a secret,what you call _incognito_. The king is coming to make obedient hiswicked daughter. _Helas!_"
With tragic suddenness the Princess dropped her voice and the laughterdied in her eyes. But Mrs. Arbuthnot was too far deeply engrossed inher own wild and extravagant thoughts to pay heed to the change.
"But if the King does not go to Windsor, where else can he go?" saidshe. "An hotel doesn't seem right, somehow, although, of course, thereare some rather nice ones in London."
"I think, my child," said the Princess, "it were best that my fathercame to us. They have anarchists in London. Besides, I insist thatyou see Schalk. He will make you laugh until you shed tears."
It was as much as ever Mrs. Arbuthnot could do to keep herself in hand.
"Oh, Sonia," she cried, "do you really think the King will come to us?"
"_Mais oui, certainement_, that is his intention. But it is a secret,a grand secret, you must not fail to remember. _Le bon roi Edouard_must not know he is in this country. His name will be Count Zhygny;and perhaps our good Odo here will be able to find him a littleshooting. Hares, partridges, anything that goes on four legs willamuse him; and you must never forget, my good Odo, that he is the bestplayer at _Britch_ in Illyria. Now mind you don't play very high, orhe will ruin you. And so will Schalk."
"I thank you, ma'am, for the information," said I, gravely.