The Palace of Darkened Windows | Page 9

interest you to
see how our ladies live in that seclusion which is so droll to you.
Confess you have heard strange stories," and he smiled in quizzical
raillery upon her.
The girl's flush deepened with the memory of the confusing stories her

head was stuffed with; tales of the bloomers, the veils, the cushions, the
sweetmeats, the nargueils, the rose baths of the old régime were jostled
by the stories of the French nurses and English governesses and the
Paris fashions of the new era. She had listened breathlessly, with her
eager young zest in life, to the amazing and contradictory narrations of
the tourists who were every whit as ignorant as she was, and her
curiosity was on fire to see for herself. She felt that a chance in a
thousand had come her lucky way.
"I shall be very glad to call," she told him, "just as soon as I return from
the Nile."
His face showed his disappointment--and a certain surprise. "But not
before?"
"Why, I go to-morrow morning, you know," said Arlee. "And----"
"It would be better--because of the invitation," he said slowly,
hesitantly, with the air of one who does not wish to importune. "My
sister would like to ask for one who is known personally to herself. She
thought you could render her a few minutes this afternoon."
"This afternoon?" Arlee thought quickly. "I ought to be packing," she
murmured, "my things aren't all ready.... And Mrs. Eversham is at the
bazaars again and dear knows when she will be back."
Just for an instant a spark burned in the black eyes watching the girl,
and then was gone, and when she raised her own eyes, perplexed and
considering, to him, she saw only the same courteously attentive, but
faintly indolent regard as before. Then the young man smiled, with an
air of frank amusement.
"That would seem to be a dispensation!" he laughed. "My sister and the
Madame Eversham--no, they would not be sympathetic!... But if you
can come," he went on quickly, leaning forward and speaking in a
hurried, lowered tone, "it can be arranged in an instant. I am to
telephone to my sister and she will send her car for you. It is not far and
it does not need but a few minutes for the visit--unless you desire. I

cannot escort you in the car--it is not en règle--but I will come to the
house and present you and then depart, that you ladies may exchange
the confidences.... Does that programme please you?"
"I--I don't know your sister's name," said Arlee.
He smiled. "Nechedil Azade Seniha--she is the widow of Tewfik Pasha.
But say Madame simply to her--that will suffice. Shall I, then,
telephone her?"
Just an instant Arlee hesitated, while her imagination fluttered about
the thought like humming-birds about sweets. Already she was thinking
of the story she could have to tell to her fellow travelers here and to the
people at home. It was a chance, she repeated to herself, in a thousand,
and the familiar details of phones and motors seemed to rob its
suddenness of all strangeness.... Besides, there was that matter of the
Khedive's ball. It would be very ungracious to refuse a few minutes'
visit to a lady who was going to so much trouble for her.
"I will be ready in ten minutes," she promised, springing to her feet.
The forgotten letters scattered like a fall of snow and the Captain
stooped quickly for them, hiding the flash of exultation in his face. He
thrust the letters rather hurriedly upon her.
"Good!... But need you wait for a toilette when you are so--so
ravissante now?"
He gazed with frank appreciation at the linen suit she was wearing, but
she shook her head laughingly at him. "To be interesting to a foreign
lady I must have interesting clothes," she avowed. "I shan't be ten
minutes--really."
"Then the car will be in waiting. I will give your name to the chauffeur
and he will approach you." He thought a minute, and then said, quickly,
"And I will leave a note for Madame Eversham at the desk to inform
her of your destination and to express my regret that she is not here to
accept the invitation." His voice was flavored with droll irony. "In ten

minutes--bien sûr?"
She confirmed it most positively, and it really was not quite eighteen
when she stepped out on the veranda, a vision, a positively devastating
vision in soft and filmy white, with a soft and filmy hat all white lace
and a pink rose. It is to be hoped that she did not know how she looked.
Otherwise there would have been no excuse for her and she should
have been summarily haled to the nearest justice, with all other