A Woman's Will, Anne Warner [primary phonics books TXT] 📗

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“For me there is no comfort under two _métres_,” he declared vigorously.

Just then the owner of the room tried the door.

“This is my room,” he called through the crack.

They looked at each other, and she ran lightly to the door, unlocked it and let her cousin enter.

“You fearful liar!” she exclaimed, as he put his arm about her, and held out the spare hand to her lover. “Oh, Jack, you awful, _awful_ liar, what shall I say to you?”

“Say to him that you are most happy,” her lover suggested.

Jack was beaming.

“I never said a word that wasn’t true,” he declared. “You asked me if the letter was from him, and I said that he wasn’t writing any letters these days, and then I said that he was going crazy.”

“And that was most true,” the other man broke in; “I have no manner to think left in my head these later nights.”

“And you began to scream that you must go to him, and I told you that you could go; and I see that you went.”

Von Ibn crossed to the chimney-piece and picked up a cigarette and a match. He was smiling to himself.

“She consents to be married to-morrow,” he said, facing about.

“Yes,” said Rosina airily; “I see that conventionality and I are to be more two than ever henceforth, so I am going to yield up my own way at once.”

“You are a brave fellow,” Jack said to his friend; “I have always been able to do more with her than any one else, but, honestly, I tell you that I, even I, would never dare to undertake her forever.”

Von Ibn lit his cigarette and laughed.

“She will obey me,” he said easily; “she will have to. It will be a great good for her. I shall be very tender with her and most severe, that is what is best for a woman.”

“Oh, Rosina!” said Jack, and in his tone resounded a succession of many feelings each more indescribable than its predecessor.

“It is not needful that you kiss her,” the lover went on, coming back across the room; “I wish that you would not, that does me no pleasure to watch.”

“I don’t care anything about kissing her,” the cousin replied; “Rosina’s novelty in kisses was over for me before I was five years old. Don’t you remember--”

Some one rapped at the door.

“_Entrez!_” they cried in chorus.

It was a _garçon_ with a card.

“‘Madame La Francesca,’” said Rosina, reading. “Who is Madame La Francesca?”

The two men exchanged glances.

“Where is the lady?” Jack asked.

“She is gone at once to madame’s room,” the boy replied.

“You’d better go and see who’s in your room,” Jack suggested; “and you,” he added, turning to her _fiancé_, “you must come with me and attend to what yet remains to be done.”

Rosina hesitated, her hand upon the door-knob.

“I will come at once,” she told the boy, who was waiting, and then she looked towards the man by the chimney-piece.

“Never mind me,” said her cousin kindly; “I’ll look out of the window, if you wish.”

Von Ibn threw his cigarette into the grate.

“You need not look from the window,” he said, laughing; “you may look straight to us, and see two most happy.”

He put his hand on either side of her smile and took the smile to himself. Then she went out.

“I can’t tell you,” the American said warmly, “how glad I am for you both. I do honestly think that she’ll make you very happy. And I hope and pray that you’ll be good to her.”

“I shall be good to her,” said his friend seriously; “I know her well. She is very ‘_tendre_’ and I love her much; she will not have her own will always, but with her love she will do mine. It is that that makes the life so happy with us. We give much affection and little liberty; it is not well for you, because with you all is so different. In America it is all liberty, and no time for love.”

“Maybe not,” said Jack carelessly; “but we make a lot of money all the same.” He picked up his ulster with the deer-horn buttons. “You’re coming, aren’t you?” he said.

The other man sought an eminently correct overcoat and silk hat in the adjoining room.

“_Natürlich_,” he said, “you know that I am of at any rate an equal interest with you in what is to be to-morrow.”

Jack laughed.

“Perhaps if you knew your lady as well as I do--” he began, and then he stopped.

They went out to the staircase, and Von Ibn descended several steps in advance. Jack contemplated his back, and his lips twitched with the conquering of a rebellious smile.

“So there walks the end of all,” he said to himself. “Who would have thought it of Rosina! Poor girl, she is about over; in fact, I’m afraid that, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, ‘Rosina’ has already ceased to exist--knocked under for good, so to speak. Only to think of that particular girl choosing a thorough-bred European husband with a Tartar syllable in his name!” He paused and chuckled. “I’ve proved my truth to Carter, anyhow. I told him that there was but one man in America clever enough to marry my cousin, and now he’ll perceive that that man’s brains so far surpass the brains of all others, that, although capable of marrying her, he took precious good care to marry her to another fellow. Well, if they’re happy they owe it all to me; and if they’re miserable, they have no one but themselves to blame.”

Von Ibn had paused at the foot of the stairs and now looked up, smiling, into his friend’s eyes.

“I am this day so greatly rejoiced,” he said earnestly, “what life is to have for me, and for her, after this! You may not divine it, I think.”

Jack looked into the warm and shining light of his uplifted face.

“I hope you’ll both be just everlastingly happy,” he said sincerely.

“But that is certain,” the lover said, in a tone of deep feeling. “Did you look at her to-day? It is heaven she brings me with her. We were two in the great world, and Lucerne brought us to one. Then love did all the rest.”

“Oh, I say,” Jack remonstrated; “I certainly worked some too!”


Chapter Seventeen

When Rosina opened her door it was Molly who stood there; a gorgeous Molly, put forth by all that was uppermost in the Kärntnerstrasse of that year.

“Why, where ever did you come from?” she cried.

“From Vienna,” said Molly; “from Vienna by way of Botzen and Venice.”

“And Madame la Princesse?”

“I’ve left her and qualified as a chaperone on my own hook.”

“You’re with Madame--Madame--” Rosina looked down at the _carte-de-visite_ which she held in her fingers still.

“I’m not with her; I’m _her_!”

“You’re--”

“Madame La Francesca.”

“Molly, you’re not--”

“Yes, I am.”

“Not _married_?”

The Irish girl, or rather the Italian lady, nodded.

“Why, Molly, however did you do it? you said he was too poor.”

“He was too poor.”

“And how--”

Molly was pulling off her gloves and laughing.

“My dear, this is another.”

Rosina sank abruptly on the sofa.

“’Tis a fact. I never told you a thing about him, but he’s as handsome--wait!” She put her hand to her collar. “No getting them tangled any more,” she said, smiling, as she felt for her chain. “I wear only one now, but I wear that one night and day.”

Rosina could do little else than gasp and stare.

“But who is he?” she asked.

“He’s the lieutenant’s colonel. He called on me to--Well, I do believe I’ve left that locket on the washstand after all!”

“Haven’t you got it on?”

“No, I haven’t. And I meant to wear it forever.”

“Never mind, go on about the colonel.”

“I do hope he won’t find the locket, that’s all. He put it on me the day we were married, and I promised to never unclasp it. Of course I never thought of baths when I spoke.”

“But do go on about how you came to--”

“I didn’t come to any one; he came to me, to beg me to give up the lieutenant, who was taking to absinthe. My dear, you should just see the man! (Oh, if I _only_ had my locket!) All Italy can’t show such another! I gave up the lieutenant that day and married the colonel just as fast as was possible. That’s why I haven’t written you this last month.”

“Is he rich?”

“Well, not in pounds; but he’s a millionaire in these Italian _lire_. We shall live like princes,--Italian princes, _bien entendu_.”

“But when were you married?”

“Day before yesterday; to-day’s the first time I’ve taken off the locket.”

“And where?”

“In Venice. Oh, ’twas like heaven, being paddled to church.”

“And now you’re--”

“Signora La Francesca.”

“Well, I declare!”

Rosina leaned back, staring helplessly. Finally she said:

“And how did you happen to come here?”

“To your wedding. I hurried my own a little on that account.”

“_Molly_, then you knew about me!”

Molly swept down upon the sofa and folded her friend in her arms.

“Knew about you! Why, my dear, I knew about you in Zurich. How could I help it? How could any one help it?”

“Why, Molly, was it as bad as that?”

“Worse,” said the signora briefly.

“But you never could have known that I would marry him in Genoa then?”

“Oh, no; of course I didn’t know about Genoa, I only knew you were bound to marry him somewhere.”

“When did you know about Genoa?”

“Last week. Your cousin wrote me.”

Rosina’s face was a study, but finally she began to laugh.

“Molly, I have been tricked and deceived at every turn by those two men. Just listen while I tell you all about it.”

Molly listened and was told all about it, from the Isar to the Mediterranean, the roof of Milan’s cathedral included.

“You wouldn’t believe it, would you?” the heroine of all concluded when she paused, altogether out of breath.

“Yes, I would. Because really I never saw two people so tremendously in love before.”

“And you thought I--cared for him when we were there in Zurich?”

“I didn’t think; I could see it with my eyes shut.”

“Really?”

“Sure! and as to him--” the signora shrugged her shoulders expressively.

Rosina threw her arms around her and kissed her.

“Oh, I am so delightfully glad to be so happy, and for you to be so happy at the same time.”

“Yes, I like to be happy myself,” Molly confessed.

“You _are_ happy, aren’t you? You do like being married, don’t you?”

“Pleasantest two days of my life,” declared the bride, with apparent sincerity.

“Do you think your husband is as good-looking as monsieur?”

Molly started violently.

“_As good-looking!_ Why, my dear, didn’t I tell you that he was the--Oh, if I _only_ had my locket!”

“Never mind,” Rosina said soothingly; “you can think he’s handsomest, if