CHAPTER XXVIII
EDWARD DEPARTS
Edward's convalescence progressed apace when once his course of actionwas decided upon. It had been a severe blow to Galva's happiness thatshe was so soon to lose the little friend whom she had come to love--ablow that was not softened by Anna's asking permission to accompany him.
That her guardian was not sufficiently well to travel alone, however,made the woman's request a perfectly natural one, and when at lastEdward and his self-appointed nurse, the farewells over, entered thecarriage that was to convey them to the dock-side, the Queen met thesituation bravely.
It was not until, from an upper window of the palace, she had seen theboat dip below the horizon, that the fall extent of her loss came hometo her. She remembered, with a little catch at the heart, that Edward,whilst seeming to answer her many questions as to his return, hadreally most successfully evaded them.
Anna she was certain of. The new rulers of San Pietro had decided thatin a month or so they would take a holiday, a little trip in which fora week or two they would become again just ordinary people. As theDuke and Duchess Armand de Choleaux Lasuer they would renew theiracquaintance with the French capital and the long, straight motorroads, and afterwards, as Mr. and Mrs. Baxendale, they would take uptheir abode at the little Cornish cottage on the purple moors which thegirl, in secret, so longed to see again.
There they were to rejoin Anna, who would have all in readiness forthem, and she looked forward with delight to the time when she couldwander at evening over the hills above Tremoor, watching thelighthouses flash their warnings out over the sea and the gulls circleand scream above the rocky cliffs and the restless Atlantic. It wouldbe a real honeymoon. Armand had never been in the "Delectable Duchy,"and Galva was never tired of thinking of the things she could show himin the glorious land where her girlhood had been spent so happily.
The court they held at Corbo was unpretentious in the extreme, andafter the coronation and the state receptions attendant thereon, lifeat the palace had quieted down to a peaceful existence untrammelled bythe ceremonies which appertained to larger and more important kingdoms.
The girl-queen often wondered what it would have been like had she beenalone. With Armand it was just as though they were living in aglorious country home; they drove out unattended, and took motor ridesto one or other of their houses in the other parts of the island withas much privacy as they had run out to Fontainebleau in the days whenthey had first met.
The business pertaining to the State of San Pietro was slight, andSenor Luazo, who had been elevated to the post of Chancellor, provedhimself invaluable. Galva saw to it that the abuses which had sprunginto being under the administration of King Enrico were remedied.Trade improved, visitors, attracted by the royal love story, came inincreased numbers. The Corbians at heart were a lazy, contentedpeople, and if only left alone the little toy kingdom really seemed torule itself.
The boat train had drawn up at Victoria a few minutes after seveno'clock, and still Edward and Anna were sitting in one of the cushionedalcoves of the station buffet drinking coffee.
They each knew that their journey, in company, had come to an end, andthey mutually avoided the subject of separation. Each felt that theaddress to which he or she were going would be expected by the other,and each was unwilling to give it. And so they sat and talked of manythings until the clock pointed to nine o'clock. Then Anna rose andheld out her hand.
"Well--good-bye for the present, Mr. Sydney," she said nervously, "Ican write to you--where?"
"Oh, yes--Anna--good-bye. I--I'm a little uncertain as to my movementsfor the next few days. I--oh, by the bye, where are you staying?"
Anna Paluda bent down and took up her jewel case and handbag.
"Well, Mr. Sydney--I'm like you--uncertain. I have an aunt--but shemay be away. Suppose we communicate in the agony column of the_Morning Post_--that will be romantic, won't it?" with a little smile.
"Er--yes--just the very thing. E.S. to A.P.--well, good-bye again.I'll get you a cab."
Under the glass-covered yard Edward handed Anna into a taxi which hadjust driven up and deposited a passenger. He tried to catch theaddress the woman whispered to the driver, but she spoke very low andhe was unsuccessful.
He stood on the curb with his hat in his hand, smiling his farewellsuntil the cab had passed through the gates. Then he gave a little sighand made his way in the direction of the Park.
"So that is all," he murmured sadly to himself. "God's in His heaven,Galva's on her throne, all's right with the world--and Edward Povey'slittle flutter is over."
He turned slowly through the gates, and stood looking at the facade ofBuckingham Palace. And as he gazed at the rows of windows and at therailed courtyard, with the sentries, his thoughts turned to anotherpalace, a palace under a blue sky and which overlooked a glitteringjewel city in the sun-kissed waters of a southern sea.
"God bless _my_ little Queen," he said, and turned and walked to wherethe lights of Piccadilly were shining in the sky.
He wandered aimlessly along among the evening throng of pleasureseekers. He felt lost, he seemed to have forgotten that Londonexisted. He turned into the Monico and drank a whisky and soda, and ashe came out he saw a green 'bus drawing up at the curb outside thePavilion music hall. The conductor was shouting--"Russell Square,King's Cross."
"Do you pass Abbot's Hotel?" Edward asked.
"Just near it, sir."
And Edward, giving himself no time for second thoughts, mounted to thetop.
The Princess Galva: A Romance Page 28