Arms and the Woman

"In the upper proscenium," he said.

It was Phyllis. The Chancellor and the Grand Duke of S---- were with

her.

"We shall visit her during the first intermission," said I.

"You had better go alone," replied Pembroke. "I haven't the courage."

The moment the curtain dropped I left the stall. I passed along the

corridor and soon stood outside the box in which Phyllis sat. I

knocked gently.

"Enter!" said a soft voice.

"Ah," said the Chancellor, smiling as he saw me. "Duke, I believe

their Majesties are looking this way. Let us go to them. I am pleased

to see you, Herr Winthrop. Duke, this is the gentleman who has turned

us all upside down."

The Duke bowed, and the two left me alone with Phyllis.

There was an embarrassing silence, but she surmounted it.

"Why have you not been to see me?" she asked. "Are you done with me

now that you have made me a Princess?"

"I did call, but was told that you were indisposed," said I.

"It was because I did not see your card. I shall never be indisposed

to my friends--the old ones. However, they will be crowding in here

shortly. Will you come and see me at four to-morrow afternoon?"

"Is it important?" I was thinking of the duel when I said this.

"Very--to you. You have a strange funereal expression for a man who is

about to wed the woman he loves."

"Your sister has left town?" not knowing what else to say.

"Only for a few days; at least so she told me. Have you seen her?"

"No, I have not. A Princess!" dropping into a lighter tone. "You

carry your honors well. It was to be expected of you. I might have

made you a Queen, but that would not have changed you any."

"Thank you. Do you know, a title is a most wonderful drawing

apparatus? Since Thursday it has been a continued performance of

presentations. And I care absolutely nothing for it all. Indeed, it

rests heavily upon me. I am no longer free. Ah, Jack, and to think

that I must blame you! I have been longing all the evening for the

little garden at home. Yes, it will always be home to me. I am almost

an alien. I would rather sell lemonade to poor reporters who had only

twenty-five-cent pieces in their pockets than queen it over a people

that do not interest me and with whom I have nothing in common." She

smiled, rather sadly, I thought, at the remembrance of that garden

scene so long ago.