She flushed a little at the momentary trace of envy: "You are too lovely for words," she said, rising. But the Princess
gently forced her to resume her seat.
"If this young man has any discrimination," she said, "he won't
hesitate with the golden apple, Ruhannah."
Rue laughed and flushed: "He hasn't noticed my gown, and I wore it for him to notice," she
said. "But he was too deeply interested in Sandy and in tea and
croissants----"
"I did notice it!" said Neeland. And, to that young man's surprise
and annoyance, his face grew hot with embarrassment. What on earth
possessed him to blush like a plow-boy! He suddenly felt like one,
too, and turned sharply to the little dog, perplexed, irritated with
himself and his behaviour.
Behind him the Princess was saying: "The car is here. I shan't stop for tea, dear. In case anything
happens, I am at the Embassy."
"The Russian Embassy," repeated Rue.
"Yes. I may be a little late. We are to dine here en famille at
eight. You will entertain James---"James!" she repeated, addressing him. "Do you think Ruhannah
sufficiently interesting to entertain you while I am absent?"
But all his aplomb, his lack of self-consciousness, seemed to be gone;
and Neeland made some reply which seemed to him both obvious and dull.
And hated himself because he found himself so unaccountably abashed,
realising that he was afraid of the opinions that this young girl
might entertain concerning him.
"I'm going," said the Princess. "Au revoir, dear; good-bye,
James----"
She looked at him keenly when he turned to face her, smiled, still
considering him as though she had unexpectedly discovered a new
feature in his expressive face.
Whatever it was she discovered seemed to make her smile a trifle more
mechanical; she turned slowly to Rue Carew, hesitated, then, nodding
a gay adieu, turned and left the room with Neeland at her elbow.
"I'll tuck you in," he began; but she said: "Thanks; Marotte will do that." And left him at the door.
When the car had driven away down the rue Soleil d'Or, Neeland
returned to the little drawing-room where Rue was indulging Sandy with
small bits of sugar.
He took up cup and buttered croissant, and for a little while
nothing was said, except to Sandy who, upon invitation, repeated his
opinion of the Sultan and snapped in the offered emolument with
unsatiated satisfaction.
To Rue Carew as well as to Neeland there seemed to be a slight
constraint between them--something not entirely new to her since they
had met again after two years.
In the two years of her absence she had been very faithful to the
memory of his kindness; constant in the friendship which she had given
him unasked--given him first, she sometimes thought, when she was a
little child in a ragged pink frock, and he was a wonderful young man
who had taken the trouble to cross the pasture and warn her out of
range of the guns.