The Diva's Ruby

dding-gown. With admirable regard for the proprieties she had quite declined to let Logotheti cross the Channel with her, but had promised to see him at Versailles, where s

'music lessons.' The good lady was one of those dear, old-fashioned, kind, delicate-minded and golden-hearted American women we may never see again, now that 'progress' has got civilisation by the throat and is squeezing th

most dreadfully immoral to Mrs. Rushmore. She would find it easier to put up with Logotheti than with one of those, though it was bad enough to think of her old friend's daughter marrying a Greek instead of a nice, clean A

about him and had diligently searched the newspapers for every mention of him during a whole month. The very first paragraph she had found was about a new railway which he had taken under his protection, and the writer said that his name was a guarantee of good faith. This impressed her favourably, though the journalist might have had reasons for making precisely the same statement if he had known Logotheti to be a fraudulent promoter. One of the maxims she had learned in her youth, which had been passed in the Gol

ks are blacklegs, as the Parisians are fond of saying, or that all Parisians are much worse, as their own novelists try to make out. If anything is more worthless than most men's opinion of themselves, it is their opinion of others, and it is unfortunately certain that the

ed smell of boards, glue, scenery, Manila ropes and cotton-velvet-clad chorus, behind the scenes; who lived on applause, was made miserable now and then by a criticism which any other singer would have thought flattery, and who was, in fact, an extraordinary compound of genius and simplicity, generosity and tetchiness, tremendous energ

ith her; she had, moreover, caused the stateroom on the Channel boat to be taken in the name of Miss Donne, and she brought no more luggage to Versailles than could be piled

he hot sunshine, portly and kind as ever, and she ap

cried. 'I was sure I had

have,' Margaret answered, almost

-room, Mrs. Rushmore asked her about her engagement in a tone of profound conc

Margaret answered with a littl

ly face b

at-that there is any h

but in a gentle and af

've come home-this is always home for me, isn't it?-

ep relief. 'Then if-if he should call this afternoon, or

hed again, though she put her head a litt

d, 'though really I would much rathe

Rushmore, applying another embr

l called the great artist, spending most of her time in carrying on inaudible conversations with Logotheti under the trees in the lawn, or in the most remote corners of th

er, and Mrs. Rushmore had given strict orders that until further notice

nd without the least pause or hesitation tore the sheets to tiny bits,

very great surprise of Potts, her English maid, who wa

' the woman asked,

and what's more, I believe I am. But I quite forgot you wer

otts meekly, and she wen

pered, garrulous dresser was as necessary to Cordova's theatrical existence as paint, limelight, wigs, and an orchestra. The English Potts, the meek, silent, busy, and intensely respectable

ut of tune, a statement which would not have disturbed the English maid's equanimity in the very least. It might have pleased her, for she always secretly hoped that Margaret would gi

sdained to understand a word of their 'abominable jargon'; and Potts quietly called the French language 'frog-talk,' but spoke it quite intelligibly, though without the least attempt at an accent. Nevertheless, each of the two was devoted to Margaret, and they were both such excellent servants that they never quarrelled or even ex

possibility of destroying the confession before any one read it. She had made an honest effort to get at the truth about herself by writing down all she knew to be quite true, as if it were to go to her best friend; but as soon as she realised that she had

on he had for her, but that as soon as he was gone she felt it no longer and she wished he would not come back; that his presence disturbed her and made her uncomfortable, and, moreover, interfered with her art; but that she had not the courage to tell him so, and wished that some one else would do it for her; that he was not really the sort of man she could ever be happy with;

se of pleasing Margaret. But before dinner he telephoned and asked to speak with her, and this she could not possibly refuse. Besides, the day had seemed long, and though she did not wish for his pre

it? You must be sick of seeing me all the time, so I shall give you a rest for a day or two. Telephone whenever you think you can bear the sight of me again, and I'll be with

nd the piano here is out of tune. But you're quite right, I don't want to see you a

ice of

rk are you doing? It's only idle curiosity, so don't tell me if you would rather not!

y! I'm brushing

p what? I d

anguage-T-a-r-'he be

what in the world is the use of knowing it? Yo

o the Pacific Ocean if you can speak Tartar,

oing to travel from Constant

r can tell what on

inst the bites of sharks,"' answered Marga

m sure there must be some Tartars. I might meet one,

you ever meet a Tartar

me now-close besid

illy, or I'

't believe

nother voice answered him at once in the same tongue. Margaret sta

ked with more interest in her

es

d. Do you mind tellin

man. I don't know how old he

mprehensible words, which were answe

aid. 'He's a good-looking young fellow.

thank you. But I sh

me to her, and to say that I hope to fi

ll me how you happened to pick up that young Tartar.

ly cut off. She rang up the Central Office and asked for his number again, but the young woman soon said that she could get

she was silent and absent-mind

when Mrs. Rushmore asked if anything was the matter. 'I f

early when she declared that she herself was sleepy and that M

her soft brown hair, she was not at all drowsy, and though her eyes looked steadi

said suddenly

eek interrogation, and without checkin

r understand exactly how a cat feels when some one strokes its back steadily, and she could almost have purred

at last, 'you are not v

e it seemed to be expected of her, tho

mistaken about a voice, if you did

t way,

could take a man's voice f

claimed. 'As it might

you like, or anywhere els

e voice, ma'am,' obser

,' assented Margare

ome I was mistaken in that way about my own brother, for I heard hi

et smiled. 'What sort of voice h

oice, he has a sweet counter-tenor, and sings n

ave you a voice too?

s in a deprecating tone. 'One

wondered why, but

was your brother who was sp

ed down over the banist

ite sure that she could not have slept at all but for Potts's comforting little story about the brother with the 'counter-tenor' voice. Yet even so, at the moment before waking in the morning, she dreamt that she was at the telephone again,

was not prepared to admit, even now, that Konstantin was the ideal she should have chosen for a husband, and whom she had been describing from imagination when she had suddenly stopped writing. But, on the other hand, the mere thought th

rming compatriot of his should have come from Constantinople to spend a few weeks in Paris? She remembered the mysterious house in the Boulevard Péreire where he lived, the beautiful upper hall

there must be, because she had a vague idea that all Russians were more or less Tartars. There was a prov

cks, and the overpowering jewellery he had formerly affected, and had resigned himself to the dictation of a London tailor, who told him what he might, could, should, and must wear for each circumstance and hour of daily life, in fine gradations, from deer-stalking to a royal garden-party. The tailor, who dressed kings and mad

e was amazed

ectly wonderful change! Think how he used to look! And n

and especially about his teacher, and she probably meant to cast her inquiries in such a form as would make it preferable to examine him alone rather than before Mrs. Rushmore; but he talked on and on, only pausing an instant for the good lady's expressions of interest or approval. With diabolical knowledge of her weakness he led the conversation to the subject of political and diplomatic

er had told an Ambassador about the Po

by way of apology, 'but I really must have a lit

ld go out, by all means. Would Monsieur Logotheti stay to dinner? No? She was sorry. She had forgotten t

her companion's eyes till she was quite ready, and then she suddenly looked at him with a sort of blank stare that would have disconcerted any one less superlatively

got into you?' she in

le wider, with an excellent affectation

' he asked in a tone of anxiety and c

estion. The look of surprise disappeared from his face, and he became very gloomy and thoughtful but said nothing more. Po

odd yesterday, at the telephone, you know-very odd indeed. I suppose you didn't realise it. And now, this afternoon, you have evidently been doing

exasperating calm and meeknes

suppose. There's no other explanation, an

u, dear lady,' said

ou often tell me that I make you th

statue had a head it wo

husiasm you say that I sing better th

re a much better musician, and you began with a bet

believe,' Margaret retorted, though h

ness,' answered the Gree

er of business?' Her eyes sparkled

ched the point to which he kn

ied with alacrity.

re admitting that I need not even try to b

some suspicions about that

? Come, be frank. She is some one from Constantinople, isn't she? A Fanariote like yourself, I daresay-an old friend who is in Pari

'If I had thought of it I might have told you that s

es flashed, her firm young cheeks reddened handso

ing to quarr

at her quickly and saw how well her look

d with quiet gravity, 'I would tell you the

harsh little

bore!' she retorted. 'Oh, no! It's something quite

red for me enough to be jealo

alo

usy with a single word; a man must have heard it to remember what it is like, and most men have. Logotheti knew it well, an

child's. 'I didn't mean to make you angry,

ing for a woman is t

her lip. He sighed audibly, as if he were very sorry that he could do nothing to appe

e supposed to be engaged I have some litt

just now. Nothing could have been easier than for me to s

g could be easier than

inine retort-triumphant, and Marga

if what I told you was untrue your argument goes to pieces. There was no Tarta

rgaret. 'It was not Tartar you s

would like me to produce my young friend and talk to him bef

o see "him"! I should like to see

ink,' said

at "his" complexion is

with hands and feet like a woman's. I noticed that. As I told you, a doubt occurred to me at once, and I will not positively swear that i

essa

ess. What I said about a teacher was mere

usiness was,' Margare

by a man in Constantinople. He came to Marseilles on a French steamer with two Greek merchants who were coming to Paris, and they brou

tle ball of white tissue-paper, bu

e like a chi

she felt something burning in her eyes. She was almost frightened at t

per from the precious stone, but changed his mind, wrapped it

it as you think,

oking down at his loosely hanging hands. His attitude expressed dejection and disappointment. She was glad of it. He had no right to think that he could make her as a

now I do. When I am with you I cannot be always thinking of what

ve that,' Margaret said

he asked so gently that sh

she with a little defiance, for she fel

to. You're not in the le

rday I wrote a long letter to a friend, and then I suddenly tore it up-there were ever so many pages! I daresay t

sdom to tear it up,'

asuring their wretched little souls and then tinkering their consciences to make them fit! I

erself a wicked woman only yesterday; but that h

eti answered, 'it will give me the greatest pleasure

You've been quite the most disagreeable pers

ontrition. 'I'll wait a day or two before I ask anyt

was the thing you

that she wished to

ith a little laugh that was encouraging rather

d to-day it had not come while her anger had lasted. But now it was stronger than ever before, perhaps because it came so unexpectedly, and it drew her to him, under the deep shadow of the elm-tree that made

ed his strength with fire; he worshipped life, and her vital beauty thrilled the inner stronghold of his being; when she moved, his passionate intuition felt and followed the lines of her moving grace; if she rested, motionless and near him, his waking dream enfolded her in a deep caress. He felt no high and mystic emotion when he thought of her; he had never read of St. Clement's celestial kingdom, where man and woman are to be one for e

er of Sidon; a witty Greek comedy adapted by Plautus to the brutal humour of Rome from Swinburne's immortal Atalanta in Calydon. Twenty-five centuries of history, Hellenic, Byzantine and modern, have gone to make the small band of cultivated Greeks of to-day what they are, two thousand and five hundred years of astounding vicissit

e Margaret had been very angry, and had almost believed that she was going to quarrel finally, and break her engagement, and be free; and now she could not even turn her face away, and wh

rink his soul from him at one deep draught-even as one of hi

onate; yet they had never kissed before that evening hour under the elm-tree at Versailles. Perhaps it was for this