CHAPTER III
MR. BLITHERS GOES VISITING
I repeat: Prince Robin was as handsome a chap as you'll see in a week'sjourney. He was just under six feet, slender, erect and strong in theway that a fine blade is strong. His hair was dark and straight, hiseyes blue-black, his cheek brown and ruddy with the health of a lifewell-ordered. Nose, mouth and chin were clean-cut and indicative ofpower, while his brow was broad and smooth, with a surface so serenethat it might have belonged to a woman. At first glance you would havetaken him for a healthy, eager American athlete, just out of college,but that aforementioned seriousness in his deep-set, thoughtful eyeswould have caused you to think twice before pronouncing him afledgling. He had enjoyed life, he had made the most of his play-days,but always there had hung over his young head the shadow of the crossthat would have to be supported to the end of his reign, through thickand thin, through joy and sorrow, through peace and strife.
He saw the shadow when he was little more than a baby; it was like afigure striding beside him always; it never left him. He could not belike other boys, for he was a prince, and it was a serious businessbeing a prince! A thousand times, as a lad, he had wished that he couldhave a few "weeks off" from being what he was and be just a common,ordinary, harum scarum boy, like the "kids" of Petrove, the headstableman. He would even have put up with the thrashings they got fromtheir father, just for the sake of enjoying the mischief that purchasedthe punishment. But alas! no one would ever dream of giving him thelovely "tannings" that other boys got when they were naughty. Such joyswere not for him; he was mildly reproved and that was all. But hisvaliant spirit found release in many a glorious though secret encounterwith boys both large and small, and not infrequently he sustainedsevere pummelings at the hands of plebeians who never were quite surethat they wouldn't be beheaded for obliging him in the matter of a"scrap," but who fought like little wild-cats while they were about it.They were always fair fights, for he fought as a boy and not as aprince. He took his lickings like a prince, however, and his victorieslike a boy. The one thing he wanted to do above all others was to playfoot-ball. But they taught him fencing, riding, shooting and tennisinstead, for, said they, foot-ball is only to be looked-at, notplayed,--fine argument, said Robin!
Be that as it may, he was physically intact and bodily perfect. He hadno broken nose, smashed ribs, stiff shoulder joints or weak ankles, norwas he toothless. In all his ambitious young life he had never achievedanything more enduring than a bloody nose, a cracked lip or a purpleeye, and he had been compelled to struggle pretty hard for even thoseblessings. And to him the pity of it all was that he was as hard asnails and as strong as a bullock--a sad waste, if one were to believehim in his bitter lamentations.
Toward the end of his first week at Red Roof, the summer home of theTruxton Kings, he might have been found on the broad lawn late oneafternoon, playing tennis with his hostess, the lovely and vivacious"Aunt Loraine." To him, Mrs. King would always be "Aunt Loraine," evenas he would never be anything but Bobby to her.
She was several years under forty and as light and active as a younggirl. Her smooth cheek glowed with the happiness and thrill of thesport, and he was hard put to hold his own against her, even though sheinsisted that he play his level best.
Truxton King, stalwart and lazy, lounged on the turf, umpiring thegame, attended by two pretty young girls, a lieutenant in flannels andthe ceremonious Count Quinnox, iron grey and gaunt-faced battleman withthe sabre scars on his cheek and the bullet wound in his side.
"Good work, Rainie," shouted the umpire as his wife safely placed theball far out of her opponent's reach.
"Hi!" shouted Robin, turning on him with a scowl. "You're not supposedto cheer anybody, d' you understand? You're only an umpire."
"Outburst of excitement, Kid," apologised the umpire complacently."Couldn't help it. Forty thirty. Get busy."
"He called him 'kid,'" whispered one of the young girls to the other.
"Well I heard the Prince call Mr. King 'Truck' a little while ago,"whispered the other.
"Isn't he good-looking?" sighed the first one.
They were sisters, very young, and lived in the cottage across the roadwith their widowed mother. Their existence was quite unknown to Mr. andMrs. Blithers, although the amiable Maud was rather nice to them. Shehad once picked them up in her automobile when she encountered themwalking to the station. After that she called them by their Christiannames and generously asked them to call her Maud. It might appear fromthis that Maud suffered somewhat from loneliness in the great house onthe hill. The Felton girls had known Robin a scant three-quarters of anhour and were deeply in love with him. Fannie was eighteen and Nelliebut little more than sixteen. He was their first Prince.
"Whee-ee!" shrilled Mrs. King, going madly after a return that heropponent had lobbed over the net. She missed.
"Deuce," said her husband laconically. A servant was crossing the lawnwith a tray of iced drinks. As he neared the recumbent group he pausedirresolutely and allowed his gaze to shift toward the road below. Thenhe came on and as he drew alongside the interested umpire he leanedover and spoke in a low tone of voice.
"What?" demanded King, squinting.
"Just coming in the gate, sir," said the footman.
King shot a glance over his shoulder and then sat up in astonishment.
"Good Lord! Blithers! What the deuce can he be doing here? I say,Loraine! Hi!"
"Vantage in," cried his pretty wife, dashing a stray lock from her eyes.
Mr. King's astonishment was genuine. It might better have beenpronounced bewilderment. Mr. Blithers was paying his first visit to RedRoof. Up to this minute it is doubtful if he ever had accorded it somuch as a glance of interest in passing. He bowed to King occasionallyat the station, but that was all.
But now his manner was exceedingly friendly as he advanced upon thegroup. One might have been pardoned for believing him to be a mostintimate friend of the family and given to constantly dropping in atany and all hours of the day.
The game was promptly interrupted. It would not be far from wrong tosay that Mrs. King's pretty mouth was open not entirely as an aid tobreathing. She couldn't believe her eyes as she slowly abandoned hercourt and came forward to meet their advancing visitor.
"Take my racket, dear," she said to one of the Peltons, It happened tobe Fannie and the poor child almost fainted with joy.
The Prince remained in the far court, idly twirling his racket.
"Afternoon, King," said Mr. Blithers, doffing his panama--to fan aheated brow. "Been watching the game from the road for a spell. Out fora stroll. Couldn't resist running in for a minute. You play a beautifulgame, Mrs. King. How do you do! Pretty hot work though, isn't it?"
He was shaking hands with King and smiling genially upon the trim,panting figure of the Prince's adversary.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Blithers," said King, still staring. "You--youknow my wife?"
Mr. Blithers ignored what might have been regarded as an introduction,and blandly announced that tennis wasn't a game for fat people, pattinghis somewhat aggressive extension in mock dolefulness as he spoke.
"You should see my daughter play," he went on, scarcely heeding Mrs.King's tactless remark that she affected the game because she had ahorror of getting fat. "Corking, she is, and as quick as a cat. Got amedal at Lakewood last spring. I'll fix up a match soon, Mrs. King,between you and Maud. Ought to be worth going miles to see, eh, King?"
"Oh, I am afraid, Mr. Blithers, that I am not in your daughter'sclass," said Loraine King, much too innocently.
"We've got a pretty fair tennis court up at Blitherwood," said Mr.Blithers calmly. "I have a professional instructor up every week toplay with Maud. She can trim most of the amateurs so--"
"May I offer you a drink of some kind, Mr. Blithers?" asked King,recovering his poise to some extent. "We are having lemonades, butperhaps you'd prefer something--"
"Lemonade will do for me, thanks," said the visitor affably. "We oughtto run i
n on each other a little more often than--thanks! By jove, itlooks refreshing. Your health, Mrs. King. Too bad to drink a lady'shealth in lemonade but--the sentiment's the same."
He was looking over her shoulder at the bounding Prince in the farcourt as he spoke, and it seemed that he held his glass a trifle toohigh in proposing the toast.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Blithers," mumbled King. "Permit me tointroduce Count Quinnox and Lieutenant Dank." Both of the foreignershad arisen and were standing very erect and soldierly a few yards away."You know Miss Felton, of course."
"Delighted to meet you, Count," said Mr. Blithers, advancing withoutstretched hand. He shook the hand of the lieutenant with a shadeless energy. "Enjoying the game?"
"Immensely," said the Count. "It is rarely played so well."
Mr. Blithers affected a most degage manner, squinting carelessly at thePrince.
"That young chap plays a nice game. Who is he?"
The two Graustarkians stiffened perceptibly, and waited for King tomake the revelation to his visitor.
"That's Prince Robin of--" he began but Mr. Blithers cut him short witha genial wave of the hand.
"Of course," he exclaimed, as if annoyed by his own stupidity. "I didhear that you were entertaining a Prince. Slipped my mind, however.Well, well, we're coming up in the world, eh?--having a real nabobamong us." He hesitated for a moment. "But don't let me interrupt thegame," he went on, as if expecting King to end the contest in order topresent the Prince to him.
"Won't you sit down, Mr. Blithers?" said Mrs. King. "Or would youprefer a more comfortable chair on the porch? We--"
"No, thanks, I'll stay here if you don't mind," said he hastily, anddragged up the camp chair that Lieutenant Dank had been occupying.
"Fetch another chair, Lucas," said King to the servant. "And anotherglass of lemonade for Miss Felton."
"Felton?" queried Mr. Blithers, sitting down very carefully on therather fragile chair, and hitching up his white flannel trousers at theknees to reveal a pair of purple socks, somewhat elementary in tone.
"We know your daughter, Mr. Blithers," said little Miss Nellie eagerly.
"I was just trying to remember--"
"We live across the road--over there in the little white house with theivy--"
"--where I'd heard the name," proceeded Mr. Blithers, still looking atthe Prince. "By jove, I should think my daughter and the Prince wouldmake a rattling good match. I mean," he added, with a boisterous laugh,"a good match at tennis. We'll have to get 'em together some day, eh,up at Blitherwood. How long is the Prince to be with you, Mrs. King?"
"It's rather uncertain, Mr. Blithers," said she, and no more.
Mr. Blithers fanned himself in patience for a moment or two. Then helooked at his watch.
"Getting along toward dinner-time up our way," he ventured. Everybodyseemed rather intent on the game, which was extremely one-sided.
"Good work!" shouted King as Fannie Felton managed to return an easyservice.
Lieutenant Dank applauded vigorously. "Splendid!" he cried out."Capitally placed!"
"They speak remarkably good English, don't they?" said Mr. Blithers inan audible aside to Mrs. King. "Beats the deuce how quickly they pickit up."
She smiled. "Officers in the Graustark army are required to speakEnglish, French and German, Mr. Blithers."
"It's a good idea," said he. "Maud speaks French and Italian like anative. She was educated in Paris and Rome, you know. Fact is, she'slived abroad a great deal."
"Is she at home now, Mr. Blithers?"
"Depends on what you'd call home, Mrs. King. We've got so many I don'tknow just which is the real one. If you mean Blitherwood, yes, she'sthere. Course, there's our town house in Madison Avenue, the place atNewport, one at Nice and one at Pasadena--California, you know--and alittle shack in London. By the way, my wife says you live quite nearour place in New York."
"We live in Madison Avenue, but it's a rather long street, Mr.Blithers. Just where is your house?" she inquired, rather spitefully.
He looked astonished. "You surely must know where the Blithers house isat--"
"Game!" shrieked Fannie Felton, tossing her racket in the air, a victor.
"They're through," said Mr. Blithers in a tone of relief. He shiftedhis legs and put his hands on his knees, suggesting a readiness toarise on an instant's notice.
"Shall we try another set?" called out the Prince.
"Make it doubles," put in Lieutenant Dank, and turned to Nellie. "Shallwe take them on?"
And doubles it was, much to the disgust of Mr. Blithers. He sat throughthe nine games, manifesting an interest he was far from feeling, andthen--as dusk fell across the valley--arose expectantly with the cry of"game and set." He had discoursed freely on the relative merits ofvarious motor cars, stoutly maintaining that the one he drove waswithout question the best in the market (in fact, there wasn't another"make" that he would have as a gift); the clubs he belonged to in NewYork were the only ones that were worth belonging to (he wouldn't becaught dead in any of the others); his tailor was the only tailor inthe country who knew how to make a decent looking suit of clothes (therest of them were "the limit"); the Pomeranian that he had given hisdaughter was the best dog of its breed in the world (he was looking atMrs. King's Pomeranian as he made the remark); the tennis court atBlitherwood was pronounced by experts to be the finest they'd, everseen--and so on and so on, until the long-drawn-out set was ended.
To his utter amazement, at the conclusion of the game, the four playersmade a dash for the house without even so much as a glance in hisdirection. It was the Prince who shouted something that sounded like"now for a shower!" as he raced up the terrace, followed by the otherparticipants.
Mr. Blithers said something violent under his breath, but resolutelyretained his seat. It was King who glanced slyly at his watch thistime, and subsequently shot a questioning look at his wife. She wasfrowning in considerable perplexity, and biting her firm red lips.Count Quinnox coolly arose and excused himself with the remark that hewas off to dress for dinner. He also looked at his watch, whichcertainly was an act that one would hardly have expected of a diplomat.
"Well, well," said Mr. Blithers profoundly. Then he looked at his ownwatch--and settled back in his chair, a somewhat dogged compressionabout his jaws. He was not the man to be thwarted. "You certainly havea cosy little place here. King," he remarked after a moment or two.
"We like it," said King, twiddling his fingers behind his back. "Humblebut homelike."
"Mrs. Blithers has been planning to come over for some time, Mrs. King.I told her she oughtn't to put it off--be neighbourly, don't you know.That's me. I'm for being neighbourly with my neighbours. But women,they--well, you know how it is, Mrs. King. Always something turning upto keep 'em from doing the things they want to do most. And Mrs.Blithers has so many sociable obli--I beg pardon?"
"I was just wondering if you would stay and have dinner with us, Mr.Blithers," said she, utterly helpless. She wouldn't look her husband inthe eye--and it was quite fortunate that she was unable to do so, forit would have resulted in a laughing duet that could never have beenexplained.
"Why," said Mr. Blithers, arising and looking at his watch again,"bless my soul, it is _past_ dinner time, isn't it? I had no idea itwas so late. 'Pon my soul, it's good of you, Mrs. King. You see, wehave dinner at seven up at Blitherwood and--I declare it's half-pastnow. I don't see where the time has gone. Thanks, I _will_ stay if youreally mean to be kind to a poor old beggar. Don't do anything extra onmy account, though, just your regular dinner, you know. No frills, ifyou please." He looked himself over in some uncertainty. "Will this ragof mine do?"
"We shan't notice it, Mr. Blithers," said she, and he turned the remarkover in his mind several times as he walked beside her toward thehouse. Somehow it didn't sound just right to him, but for the life ofhim he couldn't tell why. "We are quite simple folk, you see," she wenton desperately, making note of the fact that her husband lagged behindlike the coward he was.
"Red Roof is as nothing compared toBlitherwood, with its army of servants and--"
Mr. Blithers magnanimously said "Pooh!" and, continuing, remarked thathe wouldn't say exactly how many they employed but he was sure therewere not more than forty, including the gardeners. "Besides," he addedgallantly, "what is an army of servants compared to the army ofGrasstock? You've got the real article, Mrs. King, so don't you worry.But, I say, if necessary, I can telephone up to the house and have adress suit sent down. It won't take fifteen minutes, Lou--er--Mrs.Blithers always has 'em laid out for me, in case of an emergency, and--"
"Pray do not think of it," she cried. "The men change, of course, afterthey've been playing tennis, but we--we--well, you see, you haven'tbeen playing," she concluded, quite breathlessly.
At that instant the sprightly Feltons dashed pell mell down the stepsand across the lawn homeward, shrieking something unintelligible toMrs. King as they passed.
"Rather skittish," observed Mr. Blithers, glaring after themdisapprovingly.
"They are dears," said Mrs. King.
"The--er--Prince attracted by either one of 'em?" he queried.
"He barely knows them, Mr. Blithers."
"I see. Shouldn't think they'd appeal to him. Rather light, I shouldsay--I mean up here," and he tapped his forehead so that she wouldn'tthink that he referred to pounds and ounces. "I don't believe Maudknows 'em, as the little one said. Maud is rather--"
"It is possible they have mistaken some one else for your daughter,"said she very gently.
"Impossible," said he with force.
"They are coming back here to dinner," she said, and her eyes sparkledwith mischief. "I shall put you between them, Mr. Blithers. You willfind that they are very bright, attractive girls."
"We'll see," said he succinctly.
King caught them up at the top of the steps. He seemed to be slightlyout of breath.
"Make yourself at home, Mr. Blithers. I must get into something besidesthese duds I'm wearing," he said. "Would you like to--er--wash up whilewe're--"
"No, thanks," interposed Mr. Blithers. "I'm as clean as a whistle.Don't mind me, please. Run along and dress, both of you. I'll sit outhere and--count the minutes," the last with a very elaborate bow toMrs. King.
"Dinner's at half-past eight," said she, and disappeared. Mr. Blithersrecalled his last glance at his watch, and calculated that he wouldhave at least fifty minutes to count, provided dinner was servedpromptly on the dot.
"You will excuse me if I leave you--"
"Don't mention it, old man," said the new guest, rather more curtlythan he intended. "I'll take it easy."
"Shall I have the butler telephone to Blitherwood to say that you won'tbe home to dinner?"
"It would be better if he were to say that I wasn't home to dinner,"said Mr. Blithers. "It's over by this time."
"Something to drink while you're--"
"No, thanks. I can wait," and he sat down.
"You don't mind my--"
"Not at all."
Mr. Blithers settled himself in the big porch chair and glowered at theshadowy hills on the opposite side of the valley. The little cottage ofthe Feltons came directly in his line of vision. He scowled more deeplythan before. At the end of fifteen minutes he started up suddenly and,after a quick uneasy glance about him, started off across the lawn,walking more rapidly than was his wont.
He had remembered that his chauffeur was waiting for him with the carjust around a bend in the road--and had been waiting for two hours ormore.
"Go home," he said to the man. "Come back at twelve. And don't use thecut-out going up that hill, either."
Later on, he met the Prince. Very warmly he shook the tall young man'shand,--he even gave it a prophetic second squeeze,--and said:
"I am happy to welcome you to the Catskills, Prince."
"Thank you," said Prince Robin.