CHAPTER XIV.
SAN JACINTO DAY.
IT was the twentieth of April when Phil returned to Bauer, and for thesecond time his visit was cut disappointingly short. The reason was thathe had promised Major Melville the night he dined with him, to be backin San Antonio in time for the Carnival. The Major wanted to take him toa Mexican restaurant for a typical Mexican supper the night of thetwenty-first. On the twenty-second there would be an entertainment forthe Queen of the Carnival at her Court of the Roses; something toounique and beautiful for him to miss, they all said. Then, on thetwenty-third, San Jacinto Day, which all loyal Texans keep as a stateholiday, the annual Battle of Flowers would take place in the plaza infront of the Alamo, which they call their "Cradle of Liberty."
The Flower Battle was an old institution, the Major explained. But thiswas only the second year for the Queen's Court, and it was something sosurpassingly beautiful that he thought it ought to become a regularfeature of every carnival.
Roberta, who was also at the dinner, added her persuasions.
"You'll think you're back in the time 'when knighthood was in flower,'"she insisted. "I wish every Easterner accustomed to poking fun at ourstate could see it. Nobody knows what I suffered at school from havingpeople talk as if all Texans are 'long-horns.'"
"Roberta was one of the duchesses last year," explained LieutenantBoglin. "You should have seen her sweep up to the throne when theyannounced, 'Her Grace, the Lady Roberta of the House of Mayrell!' Shecertainly looked the real article, and was a far cry from a long-hornthen."
"Don't emphasize the _then_ so pointedly, Bogey," ordered Roberta.
When Phil hesitated to accept because his time in Bauer would beshortened so much thereby, Gay insisted that she was going to inviteMary down for the Queen's entertainment and the Flower Battle anyhow,and that if he refused to come Mary would be cut out of the pleasure ofcoming, for, of course, she couldn't leave a guest behind, under thecircumstances.
So presently the Major's programme was arranged to his partialsatisfaction. It was not complete, because he could not persuade the olddoctor, who intended spending several months in California, to returnalso.
Gay went up to Bauer that same week, directly after Alex Shelby'sdeparture. She wanted to deliver her invitation in person, and to spendthe day with the Ware family. She liked to hear them sing Alex'spraises. _He_ was the one who discovered that something could be donefor Jack, and he it was who had summoned Doctor Tremont, and everydiscussion of the subject always brought out the gratifying fact thathad it not been for him, Jack would not now be on the high road torecovery. She had found, too, that Mary made a most satisfactory littleconfidante; much better than Roberta, for she seemed really interestedin Alex and all that pertained to him, and never laughed at Gay'srhapsodies and made cynical remarks about "before and after taking" asthe worldly-wise Roberta did.
Two thoughts gave Mary the utmost satisfaction in accepting theinvitation. One was, there would be time before San Jacinto Day to makeup the white dress for which her mother had embroidered the lovelyrosebuds. The other was, that an occasion had come at last when it wouldbe appropriate for her to wear Lloyd's gift, the beautiful chiffonscarf, spangled with the crystal beads which sparkled like dewdrops.
With only a day and a half to spend in Bauer, Phil could do few of thethings she had planned for his entertainment. Now that Jack was better,she did not like to take him away from the house long enough to ride outto the Barnaby ranch and pole up to Fernbank, and such things. Instead,all the time was spent so that Jack could have his full share of thevisit. She would have been greatly disappointed had she not known shewas going to see Phil several times during her visit to Gay.
He went down to the Mexican supper on the twenty-first, and she followednext morning. He was to take luncheon with the Mayrells that day, so shedid not see him till night, when they all went in the same party to theentertainment, Phil and Roberta, Gay and Billy Mayrell, Mary andLieutenant Boglin.
The stage of Beethoven Hall was turned into a bower of roses on this eveof San Jacinto Day, and a great audience, assembling early, awaited thecoming of the Queen of the Carnival and her royal court. In the patentof nobility given by her gracious majesty to her attendants, was thecommand:
"We bid you to join with all of our loyal subjects in the Mirth andMerriment of this Festival of Flowers, which doth commemorate theglorious freedom of this, our Texas, won by the deathless heroism of thedefenders of the Alamo, and the Victory of San Jacinto."
This call for Mirth and Merriment struck the keynote of the carnival,and everyone in the great assembly seemed to be responding with theproper festival spirit.
Back in the crowded house in a seat next the aisle and almost at theentrance door, sat Mary Ware, completely entranced by all that was goingon about her. Lieutenant Boglin was beside her, and in the chairsdirectly behind them were Gay and Billy Mayrell. Roberta and Phil werein front of them. They had come early to secure these chairs, and themen had given the girls the end seats in order that they might haveunobstructed view of both aisle and stage. They all turned so thatconversation was general until the house was nearly filled, then Robertasaid something which drew Phil's attention wholly to herself, and heturned his back on the others, beginning to talk exclusively to her.
Gay, who appeared to know at least every fourth person who came down theaisle, sat, like most of the audience, with her head turned expectantlytowards the door, and kept up a running comment to Mary on theacquaintances who passed her with nods of recognition or brief words ofgreeting. The thrum of the orchestra, the sight of so many smilingfaces, although they were strange to her, and the blended colors offashionable evening gowns would have furnished Mary ample entertainmentafter her dull winter in the country; but it was doubly entertainingwith Gay to point out distinguished people and give her bits ofinformation, supplemented by Billy and Bogey about this one from thePost and that one from the town.
She wished that Phil could hear too. She wanted him to know whatprominent personages he was in the midst of. Once when some world-knowncelebrity was escorted up the aisle she leaned over and called hisattention to the procession. He looked up with a smile to follow herglance, and made a joking response, but returned so quickly to thefascinating Roberta, that Mary felt that his interest in everythingelse just then was merely perfunctory.
She remembered what Gay had said about his finding his affinity, andstole a side glance at Roberta to study her in the new light whichPhil's interest threw upon her. Now in the days when Phil worshipped atthe Little Colonel's shrine, Mary was perfectly content to have it so.She would have walked over hot plowshares to have brought his romance toa happy consummation. It seemed so eminently fitting that the two peoplein the world whom she had invested with halos, should stand together onthe same pedestal in her affections. To her doting eyes, Lloyd was suchan angel that she knew Phil must be happy with her, and Phil measured sofully up to the notch on the sterling yard-stick which indicated theinches and ells that a true prince should be, that she was sure no girlwho wove her Clotho-web for him could fail to find the happiness thatwas written for her in the stars.
Mary had grown accustomed to the fact by this time that she had made amistake in her reading of the stars. Lloyd was destined for someoneelse. But it had not occurred to her before that maybe Phil was, too.The thought that he would carry a secret sorrow with him to the grave,invested him with a melancholy charm that made him all the moreinteresting. It was somewhat of a shock to her to see him watch thedownward sweep and swift upward glance of Roberta's pretty eyes in suchan admiring way, although Mary herself had heretofore found pleasure inwatching them. Of course she didn't want him to go on suffering always,still--she didn't want him to forget.
In her passionate loyalty to Lloyd she resented his bestowing a secondglance on any girl who was any less of an angel than she; and yet herloyalty to Phil made her want him to have whatever he wanted. Knowinghow many men had fallen victims to Roberta's flirtatious little
ways,she longed to save Phil from the same fate. The growing alarm with whichshe watched them was almost comical for one of her years. It was comicalbecause it was so motherly. Not a particle of jealousy or a thought ofself entered into it.
A hush fell on the great audience, and the curtain rose on a tableau ofsurpassing loveliness. The stage seemed to be one mass of AmericanBeauty roses. The walls were festooned and garlanded with them. Theycovered the high throne in the centre and bordered the steps leading upto it. They hung in long streamers on either side from ceiling tofloor. Grouped against this glowing background, stood the noble dukes,the lords-in-waiting and their esquires. The gay-colored satins andbrocades of their old-time court costumes, the gleam of jewelledsword-hilts, the shine of powdered perukes, transported one from prosaictimes and lands to the old days of chivalry and romance.
The jester shook his bells, the trumpeters in their plumed helmetsraised their long, shining trumpets, and sounded the notes that heraldedthe first approach. Then the Lord Chamberlain stepped forth in a bravearray of pink satin, carrying the gold stick that was his insignia ofoffice.
"That's me friend," whispered Gay, "the man who originated this affair.I tell him I think he must be one of the Knights of the Round Tablere-incarnated, or else the wizard Merlin come to life again, to bringsuch a beautiful old court scene into being in the way he has done."
She stopped whispering to hear the impressive announcement he wasmaking, in a voice that rang through the hall:
"Her Grace, Lady Elizabeth, of the House of Lancaster!"
Immediately every eye turned from the stage to look at the rose-trimmedentrance door. The orchestra struck into an inspiring march and thestately beauty, first to arrive at the Court of Roses, began hertriumphal entry up the long aisle. She passed so near to Mary that thetulle bow on the directoire stick she carried almost touched her cheekwith its long floating ends, light as gossamer web. And Mary, claspingher hands together in an ecstasy of admiration, noted every detail ofthe beautiful costume in its slow passing.
"It's like the Princess Olga's," she thought, recalling the oldfairy-tale of the enchanted necklace. "Whiter than the whiteness of thefairest lily, fine, like the finest lace that the frost-elves weave, andsofter than the softest ermine of the snow."
The long court train that swept behind her was all aglisten, as ifembroidered with dewdrops and pearls. Mary watched her, scarcelybreathing till she had ascended the steps to the stage. Then herappointed duke came forward to meet her and led her to the steps of thethrone.
The music stopped. Again the heralds sounded their trumpets and the LordChamberlain announced the next duchess.
"You see," explained Gay, hastily, as all necks craned toward the dooragain, "each girl is duchess of some rose or other, like Killarney orMalmaison or Marechal Niel."
One after another they passed by to take their places beside the throne,all in such exquisitely beautiful costumes that Mary thought that eachone must be indelibly photographed on her memory. But when they hadpassed, all she could remember of so many was a spangled procession ofcourt trains, covered with cascades of crystal and silver and pearls andstrung jewels.
Each time a new duchess swept slowly and majestically by, Mary turned aquick glance toward Phil to see if he were properly impressed; but whenthe Queen was announced, she had no eyes for anything but the regalfigure proceeding slowly up the aisle, amid the admiring applause whichalmost drowned the music of the march.
It was at this juncture that Phil glanced back at Mary. Her face soplainly showed the admiration which filled her that he continued towatch her with an amused smile, saying to Roberta in an undertone:
"Look at Mary's rapt expression! She's always adored queens and suchthings, and now she feels that she's up against the real article."
"I don't wonder," answered Roberta, herself so interested that sheturned her back on Phil until the royal party had passed by. Two littlepages in costumes of white and gold, with plumed hats and spangledcapes, bore the royal train, and Roberta tried to upset the dignity ofone of them, who was a little friend of hers, by whispering, "Hello,Gerald, where did you get that feather?"
In Mary's estimation it was not the diamond crown that marked the Queenas especially regal, not the jewelled sceptre nor the white satin gown,heavily embroidered in gold roses and gleaming with brilliants; it wasthe fact that the long train borne by the little pages was of_cloth-of-gold_. To Mary, cloth-of-gold was more royal than ermine orpurple velvet, and lovingly associated in her thought with the whitesamite of Tennyson's idyls. It was cloth-of-gold that the Lily Maid ofAstolat had worn to her burying, and the only piece that Mary had everseen was the drapery over the bier of the fair Elaine, when Lloyd tookthe part of the Lily Maid, in the tableaux at The Beeches. When shecaught sight of it she clasped her hands still tighter, and never tookher eyes from it until the Queen was seated on her throne, and the long,shining folds swept down beside her, the full length of the steps.
The presentation scene followed. In the name of The Order of the Alamo,the Queen was given a magnificent necklace, with a jewelled pendant.After that the visiting duchesses were received, representing many townsof Texas, from El Paso to the gulf. They came with their maids of honor,and when they had been met by their lords-in-waiting and their esquires,the entertainment for the Queen began.
Grecian maidens bearing garlands of roses danced before her. The secondgroup was of seven little barefoot girls, carrying golden lyres, andforming a rainbow background for another small maid who gave a cymbaldance. The Grecian dances were followed by a gavotte of the time ofLouis XIII, in which all the dukes and duchesses took part.
"They danced the minuet last year," commented Gay. "This is the end ofthe performance, but we'll wait to watch them go out, on their way tothe Queen's ball. I went to that too, last year. These are good seats;we catch them coming and going."
The audience remaining seated until all the members of the Court hadpassed out two by two, had ample time for comment and observation.Bogey, who, seeing Mary's absorbing interest in the scene, hadconsiderately left her undisturbed most of the time, now leaned over andbegan to talk. As Gay had once said, "When it comes to giving a girl agood time, Bogey is quite the nicest officer in the bunch," and Phil,overhearing scraps of their conversation, concluded that Mary wasfinding her escort as entertaining as the pageant. A backward glance nowand then showed that she was not watching the recessional as closely asshe was listening to him.
As they all started out of the hall together, moving slowly along withthe crowd, barely an inch at a time, they talked over arrangements forthe next day. Lieutenant Boglin could not be counted in. He had to ridein the procession with the rest of the troops from the Post who were totake part in the parade. Billy Mayrell had another engagement, so Philproposed to take all three of the girls under his wing. It was too lateto secure seats in the plaza from which to watch the flower battle. TheMajor had been able to get only two. So Phil said the Major and his wifeshould occupy those. He would come around for the girls in an automobileand they could watch the parade seated in that.
There was a blockade near the door, but as soon as they could getthrough it, they all walked up the street to a building in which theMajor had secured the use of a second-story window, from which theycould watch the parade of the Queen and her court on their way to theball. The time spent in waiting was well worth while, when it finallyappeared. The horses of the chariots were led by Nubian servants, andeach chariot represented a rose, wherein sat the duchess who had made ither choice.
The Queen's chariot was surmounted by a mammoth American Beauty rose,and as she smiled out from the midst of its petals, Mary had one moreentrancing view of the royal robes. This time they were lit up by thered gleam of torches, for eight torch-bearers, four on a side,accompanied each chariot, and added their light to the brilliantilluminations of the streets.
"You must see the river," said Billy Mayrell, after the procession hadpassed by. "Nobody can describe it, with the lights st
rung across itfrom shore to shore all down its winding course. It makes you think ofVenice."
He led them to a place where they could look across a bend and see oneof the bridges. It was strung so thickly with red lights which outlinedevery part, that it seemed to be made of glowing rubies, and itsreflection in the water made another shining ruby bridge below, waveringon the dark current.
Mary leaned over the rail watching the shimmering lights, and feelingdreamily that this City of the Alamo was an enchanted city; that thebuildings looming up on every side were not for the purpose of barterand trade. They were thrown up simply as backgrounds for the dazzlingilluminations which outlined them against the night sky. The horns ofthe revellers answering each other down every street, the music ofdistant bands, the laughter of the jostling throngs, all deepened theillusion.
It did not seem possible that this could be the city through which shehad once tramped in the rain, discouraged and forlorn, in search of ahome. It was a realm given over utterly to "Mirth and Merriment," wherea gracious young queen held sway, where illness and trouble and griefhad no part.
"I don't wonder that the Major wants everybody not already a loyal Texanto see this," she said to the Lieutenant. "It's enough to make one wantto live here always."
She made the same remark to Gay next afternoon, as she sat beside her onthe back seat of the automobile. Roberta was on the front seat withPhil. He had ordered a machine which he could drive himself, and theyhad taken a run through the principal streets to see all thedecorations, before coming to a standstill to wait for the procession.It was an inspiring scene, the grandstand packed with applaudingspectators, the plaza crowded from park to curbstone. Shops and officeshad closed for the day, schools were dismissed and all work abandoned asfar as possible, in order that everyone might share in the Carnivalplay-time. The wise old town knows the full worth of holidays, and makesthe most of each one.
The chariots Mary had seen in the brilliantly-lighted streets the nightbefore, lost some of their glamour seen by day; but the duchesses andtheir ladies-in-waiting were dressed now in the colors of their chosenroses instead of the court-robes, and there were many new features inthis parade; floats and handsomely decorated carriages, and a long lineof troops from the post with the famous military bands. It was hard tosit still when they played so inspiringly.
Back and forth in front of the Alamo went the two divisions of theparade, meeting and passing and turning to meet and pass again, all thewhile pelting each other with flowers, till the plaza where they rodewas covered deep with them. And the bands played and the people cheered,till the smallest schoolboy in their midst felt a thrill of gratitude tothe heroes whose deeds they were commemorating. He might miss the deepermeaning of it all, but he grasped one fact clearly enough: that had itnot been for the grim battle which those brave fellows fought to thedeath, there would have been no San Jacinto Day for him. Nopageant-filled holiday to make one feel that it is a great and gloriousthing to be a son of the Lone Star State.
Phil dined at the Major's again that night, and Roberta was the onlyother guest beside Mary. Gay had objected when her father proposedothers, saying that they intended to devote the entire evening to music.Since they had discovered what a magnificent voice Mr. Tremont had, andhe had discovered what proficient accompanists she and Roberta were,they had decided to treat themselves to a musicale given by the three,with only Mary for audience. The family could listen, of course, butwith the understanding that there was to be no conversation. As theMajor had an engagement which took him out immediately after dinner andMrs. Melville had some friends drop in to call soon after, it happenedthat their audience was limited to one.
Now the one thing that Mary enjoyed above all others was hearing Philsing, and quite the pleasantest part of her whole visit was that lastevening spent in listening to him, with Roberta at the piano, and Gayimprovising wonderfully soft and lovely accompaniments on her violin.Mary had heard two celebrated opera singers while in Washington, but inher opinion neither one equalled Phil.
Phil's surprise would have been unbounded could he have known that shewas comparing his singing to the angel Israfel's, "whose heartstringswere a lute, and who had the sweetest voice of all God's creatures." Itwould have been a matter of still greater surprise if he could haveknown the exalted opinion that Mary had of him. Not that any sentimentalinterest entered into her regard for him. Despite her eighteen years andher womanly attitude towards the world in general, she was still alittle girl, and a very humble little girl in her own estimation, asfar as he was concerned. He was her ideal; the man whose good opinionshe valued above all things, whose approval made her inexpressiblyhappy, and whose advice she eagerly followed.
She had adored him for years as little girls do sometimes look up to andadore grown men, and had stored away in her memory many a remark that heforgot as soon as it was uttered. There was the time she confided to himher grief at being so fat and her ambition to be an "airy, fairyLillian," like Lloyd. He did not even smile, and he answered so gravelyand kindly that she remembered even yet the consolation that his wordsgave her. Another time she overheard him referring to her as an "angelunawares," because she had unknowingly done him a service by repeatingsomething Lloyd had said about him.
From that time on, that was the part she longed to play in his life. Sheburned to be the "angel unawares" who could help him to the attainmentof everything he wanted. That was why she had been so bitterlydisappointed when Lloyd's engagement to Rob Moore had been announced.She wanted Lloyd to marry Phil because she knew that was what Philwanted. Now that that was not possible she was just as ready to helphim if he should ever love again. She hardly thought that he could do_that_, though. It seemed so incredible that he should ever find anotheras fine and high and sweet as the Princess Winsome; it was still moreincredible that once having set his mark that high he could ever look atanything less.
His powerful, well-trained voice filled the room with a sweetness thatbrought an ache to her throat and sometimes tears to her eyes. PresentlyRoberta rummaged out some old, old melodies--"Drink to me only withthine eyes," and the "Bedouin Love-song."
When she asked for that last one, Mary cringed inwardly, as if she hadbeen hurt herself, so sure was she that it must bring up painfulmemories to Phil. She fully expected to see him lay it aside with someexcuse for not singing it. She remembered as vividly as if it were onlylast night how she had sat on the floor of the library at The Locusts,listening to the notes of his guitar as he sang to Lloyd outside on theporch:
"Till the stars are old And the sun grows cold And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold."
For the life of her, she couldn't see how Lloyd ever listened to anyother wooing after that. Had any one sung that to _her_ in that voice itwould have won her so completely that she would have risen like theSleeping Beauty at the call of the prince.
"Beyond the night--across the day-- Through all the world she followed him."
To her surprise, Phil took up the sheet of music as nonchalantly as ifhe had never seen it before. But when he began to sing it seemed to heranxious ear that he sang it more feelingly than anything she had everheard. It was plain enough to her now that he had not ceased to care. Itwrung her heart to hear him sing it so, pouring out his soul in a floodof noble devotion which he knew could never be requited, but which wouldlive on till the sun lost its heat and the stars their light.
"I love that song," said Roberta, laying it aside to pick up another."But I'd like to meet that fiery old duck of a Bedouin when the leavesof the Judgment Book _do_ unfold, and find out how long his devotionkept up to high-water mark." Then she trilled airily, "Men are gaydeceivers ever."
Under the circumstances the remark seemed flippant, almostsacrilegious, to Mary. She gave Roberta a disapproving glance behind herback, thinking, "Little _you_ know about it. If you could see as I donow, how Phil is hiding his real feelings, you'd realize that there's_one_ man, at least, capable of the deathless devotion you sco
ff at."
The evening was over all too soon. Phil was to take Roberta home on hisway back to the hotel, and when he rose to go said, "I'll not make myfarewells now. My train doesn't leave till nearly noon to-morrow, soI'll call some time during the morning to pay my respects to the Majorand see you all again."
"You'll have to say good-by to Mary now," said Gay. "She insists ontaking that horrid freight car back to Bauer, at seven in the morning."
"I must," said Mary. "You know they need me, now that the nurse is gone,and I've already been away two days."
Roberta went out into the hall for her hat, and Gay followed as far asthe door, talking as she went.
"And I haven't had any visit with _you_ at all," said Phil, who wasstanding, hat in hand, looking down at Mary. "I haven't had a word withyou by yourself, and you haven't confided once in me or asked me asingle scrap of advice. It doesn't seem natural. But I'm not going tolet you escape me this way; I'm going down to the train in the morningto see you off."
Gay turned in time to hear the last part of his sentence. "That is," shecorrected, "if you are called in time. They don't always do it at hotelswhen they say they will. I've had some bad experiences that way. So ifhe doesn't appear, Mary, you can console yourself with the thought thathe's like Kathleen Mavourneen--'slumbering still.'"
"I'll be there," was the confident reply, as he smiled down into Mary'swistful eyes and held out his hand to say good-night. "Electric bellsare not as romantic as the 'horn of the hunter heard on the hill,' butthey're more effective when it comes to getting a fellow up in themorning; you'll see me sure."