THE PRINCE IN THE FAIRY TALE.

Observer, Volume XL, Issue 8, 25 October 1919, Page 19

THE PRINCE IN THE FAIRY TALE.

By Leonard Merrick

(& ntinuedj,

Good little Miss Niblett! Though she had let me prepare the supper so that she might have a chance to pester him with questions, she made amends by clearing the things away herself. And shut the door behind her! That was the first' time he kissed me. After all that has happened since, the scene remains clear and living to me—the little lamp-lit' room, half studio, half parlour, the scent of the mignonette in the open window, and the Promised Land I saw beyond. When lam old arid grey it will be living to me still— 7his voice, his touch, and the joy that was singing in my heart. And by and by we all went out. "I have pennies to spend," pleaded my lover; "let's be lavish!" Could I be wise on such a night? Away we sped from Montparnasse intp the Paris where the cabs darted and the cafes glittered; and we had syrups and fizzy waters under the trees in the starlight,., and madebelieve that, we were rich. I thought Miss Niblett must have been in love herself once upon a time—she was so tactful. It was a long ramble that we took. Like children we joked outside a jeweller's window, pretending to choose the costliest of engagement rings; like vagrants we loitered by a great house where a reception was being held. Yes, we stood there on the pavement and watched the grand people arriving ; and for the first time for hours I remembered we were poor. "Why aren't we going to a party?-. How lovely it would be!" "Are you keen on parties?" my lover asked ; "perhaps I could take you to one this week. Shall I try?" "A party like that?" I laughed. "Yes, please!" "Ah, well," he replied, "I can't guarantee that it will be quite like that. Still, I guess it will be rather fun. Will Miss Niblett go, too?" "I?" she exclaimed. "Don't talk nonsense!" "I wonder," he said, "which is the best place in this city to hire a suit of dress-clothes for the evening. My social gaieties have given me no cause to find out." That was all. We turned homeward. I thought with Miss Niblett that he had been talking nonsense. Imagine how surprised I was to hear him revive the subject after a day or two. "Well, it's all right,.'.' he said; "I've managed it. We're invited." "Invited?" I echoed. "Invited where?" " Why, to the festivity to-morrow night." * "But," I cried, "you didn't really mean it, did you? You didn't suppose I'd go? The people are strangers to me." "Oh, that's nothing," he answered. "In Society they often go to strangers' parties. It's rather chic." - ""Well, we aren't in Society," I reminded him. "I'm not. chic. I can't go junketing with-a lot of students I have never seen before." "You'll never be a Bohemian, Rosie," he said; ''yoU don't seem to catch on to the tone of the Quarter at all. Now, do come! If you're a good girl you shall be rewarded. You see I have my clothes ready, and it would disappoint me some not to get a chance to show 'em off." He made such a point of it that I promised. But I wasn't pleased. Besides being reluctant to intrude, I was annoyed at the thought of having put him to expense; also the isea of his going to a party in a hiyfed suit was distasteful to me. I went to my school as cross as two sticks.

"The carriage is at the door, Madam."

Early the next morning he ran upstairs in a great hurry to borrow our newspaper. I wondered why he wanted it, for he always- read "Le Temps," and we took the " Daily Messenger," one of the English papers that were published in Paris However, we were busy, and let him have it, though we hadn't looked at it ourselves yet. We were busy examining the white silk frock I meant to wear. I. was for freshening it with some new tulle, and Miss Niblett kept saying it would be folly to spend the money. The argument lasted such a long time that I didn't go to the school at all that. day. Miss Niblett won. And then behold an afternoon of amazement! As I was boiling" the kettle there came a rap at the door, and whom should I admit, but a stylish young woman with a note and a large box! The note consisted of four words—"FriHs for the Fairest!" and the box contained—a dress. But, my dears, a dress that I can't describe to you! I should need a page to do it justice; such a dress as the fairy godmother might have created when she changed a pumpkin to a chariot. - "What does it mean?" I gasped. "Is that from him?" stammered Miss Niblett. "Oh, don't you know it's from him?" I cried hotly. "Now I see why you wouldn't let me buy the tulle! But how can he have paid for it, and how could you encourage him?" I thought she was going to cry. "Rosie," she whimpered, "he told me he wanted to give you a dress, and asked me to help him, but 1 never imagined he meant «*i dress like that; I didn't indeed! How could I? Oh, my child, look at the name on the lid—look where it conies from!" "Mademoiselle will try it on?" suggested the young woman coolly. "What does she say?" I demanded. She spoke French, of course. It is to be hoped she didn't understand English. "She says you had better try it on." "This is madness," I faltered. I looked from the young woman to Miss Niblett; I looked from Miss Niblett back to the frock- "Madness!" I repeated—and tried it on. Oh, what a frock! There were exclamations, and pins, and stitches. And in the middle of it all came another bang at the door. A porter in uniform stood on the landing. He, too, bore a note and a box; he, too, behaved as if miracles happened every day in the year. Four words again—"Suede for the Sweetest!" Gloves, if you please!—a stack of them, with I can't tell you how many buttons, and the faintest odour of violets. I know now that in -the whole of Paris there is only one shop that sells gloves quite like those; and they are famous all over •the world. A knock at the door! By this time we opened it speechlessly—we just glanced at each other and tottered. And again four words — "Bonds for the Best." I tore off the brown paper with hands that shook. Under the brpwn paper, tissue paper; under the tissue paper, the glint of velvet, pale blue; I drew out a jewel case; I pressed a spring, and—— "Oh, gracious!" screamed Miss Niblett. Shimmering oh the satin with which the case was lined lay a "rope" of pearls fit for an empress. Not even a string—a "rope!" Three times round the neck it would wind, and hang almost to the waist. We; fell on to the sofa, dazed.

"Are they real?" Miss Niblett panted. "Oh, my dear! Give me the case. My dear ! They are real, I'm sure they are. Oh, my dear! they must be worth thousands upon thousands of pounds.' What does it all mean?"

And for the rest! of the day not a glimpse of my fiance, not a message from him. Monsieur Martin was out, the concierge told us when we inquired. It had been arranged that he should come for me at ten o'clock, and at half-past eight I began to dress. We lit every candle in the flat that evening. "At five minutes to ten I was ready—-all but one glove. We sat trembling with curiosity. Then we heard him — singing on the stairs; and he tappod as the hour struck.

"Now!" we both cried. "Perhaps you'll explain?"

If his clothes weren't his own, he had discovered a remarkable establishment; I noted that, despite mv dizziness. I fancy I have mentioned how nice-looking ho was, but I had never really done him justice before. He was worthy to take his frock out! He stood there admiringly, presenting a bouquet. "Explain?" he murmured. "Oh, you mean those things I sent you? My dear ladies, patience is one of the most beautiful of virtues—let us cultivate it! Rosie,- you're a dream of loveliness! I thought perhaps you'd like a few flowers. Shall we go ?"

And we went. I had expected to see a cajb at the corner; there was a brougham, with a footman waiting on the curb.

'Not mine," said the Man of Mystery, "I assure you. Hired!" "Like your clothes?" I flashed. "Much more so." he said serenely. "Would you prefer the window up, or down, dear?" "Either," I said; "if you'll tell me where we're going." "Why, to the party," he replied ; "I thought you knew." ''You don't ask me to believe we're going to a student's supper, dressed like this?" "Well, no," he said. "I guess we'd be a trifle over-powering, eh? But I never told you it was a student's supper. That student was an invention of your own." We rolled along luxuriously. To my bewilderment, it seemed that all the Capital was astir that night. Crowds, crowds everywhere in the brilliant streets—Paris was a panorama of lights and faces. After a while we began to move more slowly : other vehicles impeded us. I could hear the jangling horses' bits, the orders of the police. "We're drawing close," said my lover. The clatter of hoofs was to right and left of us now. From the window I saw the glare of carriage lamps, caught glimpses of great ladies' gowns and jewelled heads. The brougham swung through gates into a courtyard. "We are there," said my lover. I stood on the steps of a palace. On either side of me soldiers were drawn up, startling, spectacular. Music swelled through the doorway. Flunkeys bowed at our approach. "'Where have you brought me?" I whispered. "Whose house is this?" "He's called the. President of the French Republic," was thp answer. "Don't be shy." We passed through the. dazzle of the hall. The lights blinded me, and the scent of the roses was very strong. I heard great names spoken, names that made me catch my breath ,| As those awe-inspiring names were uttered, the scene hecame more and more unreal. And the guests, the guests who bore the historical names, looked quite ordinary, prick-me-and-I-shall-bleed persons. I think that was the most vivid impression I had in the Elj'see —the difference between the persons and their names. Soon through the throng — among the regal toilettes of the women, and the groups of distinguished, "decorated" men—l grew conscious of the figure of an elderly gentleman with iron-grey hair and a rather'sad smile, moving near to us.

I recognised him by photographs that I had I knew-.it was the President himself. "Now," said the voice at my side, "I'm going to present you to him. Try to" look as if you liked it." For an instant I saw the other end of the glittering salon turning very, "very small and dim, and I , thought I was going to faint. I hadn't the slightest notion whether I ought to put out my hand.to him, or kiss his hand, or sweep a 'curtsy. And if you want to know which of the three I did, I am unable to tell you; but my lover affirmed afterwards that I was "real charming," and you may take his word for it, if you are kind enough. I can't pretend that it convinces me, for I. never felt such a gawk in all my days. I don't know how long we stayed at the Elysee; I have a vague recollection of eating an ice. But the next thing I 'remember clearly is our entering .the brougham again, and driving away into the fresh sweet air. Then I leant towards him. I said, "If you've any consideration for me, you'll answer right off, and tell me whether I'm awake or asleep. I have pinched myself three times, and I'm still not sure." . "You darling!" he. laughed. "I was afraid you'd read it all before I confessed; that was why I stole your newspaper." "So you did!" I exclaimed. "Why are you in the paper?" "Well, you see, Rosie Posie, I bought those pearls for you yesterday," he said, "and I had to get the bank to identify me; I suppose the jewellers chattered last night." He took the paper from his overcoat, and there, if you can believe me, by tlie light of the little electric lamp over our heads, this is what I saw:— "An American Millionaire's Son in Montparnasse! Mr. Martin McLeod Plays at Poverty!! The Extraordinary Experiment of a Young Croesus!!!" After that, what remains for meto tell you? What his father said? Well, his father didn't object to me a bit, and always declares that Martie's marriage was the most sensible action of his life. Though that's nonsense! We spend six montlfe of the year in America, and the ofther six in Europe. Miss Niblett is still in Paris. lam afraid she will never do the "great things," but she will never be hard up any more, for mv "prince" is as generous as he is rich. The story I have tried to write is finished. Isn't it as marvellous as any fairy tale? But it is true! And I wonder if any woman has ever been so blessed as I, and thank God for my great happiness. "The carriage is at the door, Madam." Oh, is it indeed? Well, lam not «roing out just yet, for there is a little, girl running across the room to say that "Mother has been writing long enough, and must come and play." And there's Martie—Martie 'with his arm round me, looking down in my face.