The Slim Princess | Page 3

by the prolonged crisis, the younger sister,
Jeneka, was well-nigh distracted, for she could not hope to marry until
Kalora had been properly mated and sent away.
In Morovenia there is a very strict law intended to eliminate the
spinster from the social horizon. It is a law born of craft and inspired by
foresight. The daughters of a household must be married off in the
order of their nativity. The younger sister dare not contemplate
matrimony until the elder sister has been led to the altar. It is
impossible for a young and attractive girl to make a desirable match
leaving a maiden sister marooned on the market. She must cooperate
with her parents and with the elder sister to clear the way.
As a rule this law encourages earnest getting-together in every
household and results in a clearing up of the entire stock of eligible
daughters. But think of the unhappy lot of an adorable and

much-coveted maiden who finds herself wedged in behind something
unattractive and shelf-worn! Jeneka was thus pocketed. She could do
nothing except fold her hands and patiently wait for some miraculous
intervention.
In Morovenia the discreet marrying age is about sixteen. Jeneka was
eighteen--still young enough and of a most ravishing weight, but the
slim princess stood as a slight, yet seemingly insurmountable barrier
between her and all hopes of conventional happiness.
Count Malagaski did not know that the shameful fact of Kalora's
thinness was being whispered among the young men of Morovenia.
When the daughters were out for their daily carriage-ride both wore
flowing robes. In the case of Kalora, this augmented costume was
intended to conceal the absence of noble dimensions.
It is not good form in Morovenia for a husband or father to discuss his
home life, or to show enthusiasm on the subject of mere woman; but
the Count, prompted by a fretful desire to dispose of his rapidly
maturing offspring, often remarked to the high-born young gentlemen
of his acquaintance that Kalora was a most remarkable girl and one
possessed of many charms, leaving them to infer, if they cared to do so,
that possibly she weighed at least one hundred and eighty pounds.
[Illustration: Papova rejoiced greatly]
[Blank Page]
These casual comments did not seem to arouse any burning curiosity
among the young men, and up to the day of Kalora's nineteenth
anniversary they had not had the effect of bringing to the father any of
those guarded inquiries which, under the oriental custom, are always
preliminary to an actual proposal of marriage.
Count Selim Malagaski had a double reason for wishing to see Kalora
married. While she remained at home he knew that he would be second
in authority. There is an occidental misapprehension to the effect that
every woman beyond the borders of the Levant is a languorous and

waxen lily, floating in a milk-warm pool of idleness. It is true that the
women of a household live in certain apartments set aside as a "harem."
But "harem" literally means "forbidden"--that is, forbidden to the
public, nothing more. Every villa at Newport has a "harem."
The women of Morovenia do not pour tea for men every afternoon, and
they are kept well under cover, but they are not slaves. They do not
inherit a nominal authority, but very often they assume a real authority.
In the United States, women can not sail a boat, and yet they direct the
cruise of the yacht. Railway presidents can not vote in the Senate, and
yet they always know how the votes are going to be cast. And in
Morovenia, many a clever woman, deprived of specified and legal
rights, has learned to rule man by those tactful methods which are in
such general use that they need not be specified in this connection.
Kalora had a way of getting around her father. After she had defied him
and put him into a stewing rage, she would smooth him the right way
and, with teasing little cajoleries, nurse him back to a pleasant humor.
He would find himself once more at the starting-place of the
controversy, his stern commands unheeded, and the disobedient
daughter laughing in his very face.
Thus, while he was ashamed of her physical imperfections, he admired
her cleverness. Often he said to Popova: "I tell you, she might make
some man a sprightly and entertaining companion, even if she is
slender."
Whereupon the crafty Popova would reply: "Be patient, your
Excellency. We shall yet have her as round as a dumpling."
And all the time he was keeping her trained as fine as the proverbial
fiddle.

IV
THE GARDEN PARTY

Said the Governor-General to himself in that prime hour for
wide-awake meditation--the one just before arising for breakfast: "She
is not all that she should be,