The Powers and Maxine

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The Powers and Maxine

Project Gutenberg's The Powers and Maxine, by Charles Norris Williamson This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: The Powers and Maxine
Author: Charles Norris Williamson
Release Date: December 8, 2003 [EBook #10410]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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The Powers and Maxine
By C.N. and A.M. Williamson
Author of
"The Princess Virginia," "My Friend the Chauffeur," "The Car of Destiny," "The Princess Passes," "Lady Betty Across the Water," Etc.
Copyright, 1907, by C.N. and A.M. Williamson.
_With Illustrations By FRANK T. MERRILL_

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
LISA'S KNIGHT AND LISA'S SISTER
II. LISA LISTENS
III. LISA MAKES MISCHIEF
IV. IVOR TRAVELS TO PARIS
V. IVOR DOES WHAT HE CAN FOR MAXINE
VI. IVOR HEARS THE STORY
VII. IVOR IS LATE FOR AN APPOINTMENT
VIII. MAXINE ACTS ON THE STAGE AND OFF
IX. MAXINE GIVES BACK THE DIAMONDS
X. MAXINE DRIVES WITH THE ENEMY
XI. MAXINE OPENS THE GATE FOR A MAN
XII. IVOR GOES INTO THE DARK
XIII. IVOR FINDS SOMETHING IN THE DARK
XIV. DIANA TAKES A MIDNIGHT DRIVE
XV. DIANA HEARS NEWS
XVI. DIANA UNDERTAKES A STRANGE ERRAND
XVII. MAXINE MAKES A BARGAIN
XVIII. MAXINE MEETS DIANA
XIX. MAXINE PLAYS THE LAST HAND OF THE GAME

LISA DRUMMOND'S PART

The Powers and Maxine
CHAPTER I
LISA'S KNIGHT AND LISA'S SISTER
It had come at last, the moment I had been thinking about for days. I was going to have him all to myself, the only person in the world I ever loved.
He had asked me to sit out two dances, and that made me think he really must want to be with me, not just because I'm the "pretty girl's sister," but because I'm myself, Lisa Drummond.
Being what I am,--queer, and plain, I can't bear to think that men like girls for their beauty; yet I can't help liking men better if they are handsome.
I don't know if Ivor Dundas is the handsomest man I ever saw, but he seems so to me. I don't know if he is very good, or really very wonderful, although he's clever and ambitious enough; but he has a way that makes women fond of him; and men admire him, too. He looks straight into your eyes when he talks to you, as if he cared more for you than anyone else in the world: and if I were an artist, painting a picture of a dark young knight starting off for the crusades, I should ask Ivor Dundas to stand as my model.
Perhaps his expression wouldn't be exactly right for the pious young crusader, for it isn't at all saintly, really: still, I have seen just that rapt sort of look on his face. It was generally when he was talking to Di: but I wouldn't let myself believe that it meant anything in particular. He has the reputation of having made lots of women fall in love with him. This was one of the first things I heard when Di and I came over from America to visit Lord and Lady Mountstuart. And of course there was the story about him and Maxine de Renzie. Everyone was talking of it when we first arrived in London.
My heart beat very fast as I guided him into the room which Lady Mountstuart has given Di and me for our special den. It is separated by another larger room from the ballroom; but both doors were open and we could see people dancing.
I told him he might sit by me on the sofa under Di's book shelves, because we could talk better there. Usually, I don't like being in front of a mirror, because--well, because I'm only the "pretty girl's sister." But to-night I didn't mind. My cheeks were red, and my eyes bright. Sitting down, you might almost take me for a tall girl, and the way my gown was made didn't show that one shoulder is a little higher than the other. Di designed the dress.
I thought, if I wasn't pretty, I did look interesting, and original. I looked as if I could think of things; and as if I could feel.
And I was feeling. I was wondering why he had been so good to me lately, unless he cared. Of course it might be for Di's sake; but I am not so queer-looking that no man could ever be fascinated by me.
They say pity is akin to love. Perhaps he had begun by pitying me, because Di has everything and I nothing; and then, afterwards, he had found out that I was intelligent and sympathetic.
He sat by me and didn't speak at first. Just then Di passed the far-away, open door of the ballroom,