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Page 16
"It is merely a reception," Mrs. Ebley said, "and it will be a
very interesting sight."
Stella sat silent; she was overcome with the whole situation; and
her fiance grew more distasteful to her every moment--how had she
ever been persuaded to be engaged to such a person!--while the
attraction of the strange-looking Russian seemed to increase. In
spite of the grotesque hair and unusual beard, there was an air of
great distinction about him. His complete unconsciousness and calm
were so remarkable. You might take him for an eccentric person,
but certainly a gentleman, and with an extraordinary magnetism,
she felt. When once you had talked to him, he seemed to cast a
spell over you. But, beyond this, she only knew that she was
growing more unhappy every moment, and that by her side one man
represented everything that was tied and bound in sentiment and
feeling and existence, and that across the hall another opened the
windows of her reason and imagination, and exhorted her to be
free, and herself.
Presently she could bear it no more. She got up rather suddenly,
and, saying she was very tired and had letters to write, she left
them and went toward the lift.
"Stella is not at all like herself," Mr. Medlicott said, when she
had disappeared from view. "I trust she is not sickening with
Roman fever."
Meanwhile, Miss Rawson had reached her room and pulled her writing
case in front of her. There were one or two girl friends who ought
to be written to, but the sheets remained blank--and in about ten
minutes there was a gentle knock at the door, and, on opening it,
she saw Count Roumovski's discreet-looking servant, who handed her
a note respectfully, and then went on his way without a word.
How agreeable it must be to have well-trained servants to do one's
bidding like that! she thought, and then went back eagerly to her
window to read the missive. It had no beginning or date, and was
just a few lines.
I have observed the whole situation, and judged of the character
of your fiance. I know how you feel. Do not be depressed--remain
calm and trust me, circumstances can always be directed in the
hands of a strong man. I will have the honor to be presented to
you and to your family soon after you arrive at the Embassy to-
night. All is well.
There was no signature, and the writing was rather large and
unlike any she had seen before.
Suddenly her feeling of unrest left her, and a lightness of heart
took its place. She was living, at all events, and the horizon was
not all gray. It seemed almost delightful to be putting on a real
evening dress presently, even though it was a rather homely white
thing with a pink sash, and to be going down to the restaurant in
it with Aunt Caroline in front in her best black velvet and point
lace.
That lady's desire to be in time at the party alone determined her
to this breach of the rules--and there were Eustace and Uncle
Erasmus in their stiff clerical evening coats awaiting them in the
corridor--while, as luck would have it, the lift stopped at the
second floor to admit the Russian. He got in with his usual air of
being unaware that he was not alone--though Stella could feel that
he was touching her hand--perhaps unconsciously. He seemed to
radiate some kind of joy for her always, and the pink grew to that
of a June rose in her cheeks, and her brown eyes shone like two
stars.
"That was the man you spoke of in the hall, Mrs. Ebley, was it
not?" Eustace Medlicott's intoning voice said, as they went along
to the restaurant. "He certainly is a most remarkable person to
look at close--but I do not dislike his face, it has noble lines."
"Really, how condescending of you!" Stella almost said aloud. But
the Aunt Caroline answered serenely:
"Perhaps I am prejudiced, Eustace, but want of convention always
shocks me to such a degree that I cannot appreciate anything
else."
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