a few days later martha came to the atelier in a state of only half-concealed excitement. she had a plan which she broached to the princess with some timidity. she began by saying that her brother was compelled to be absent from paris during the whole of the next day, and that, as it was sunday, and there would be no work at the atelier, she would have the whole day on her hands.
“come and spend it with me,” said the princess.
“oh, if you would only come and spend it with me!” said martha, so wistfully that her friend laughed gaily, and said:
“why not?”
“harold takes an early train, and will not be back until night,” said martha; “and it would be such joy to have you in my own room, sitting in my own chair, lying on my own bed, standing on my own rugs, and giv{103}ing me sweet associations with these things forever.”
“of course i’ll come—with pleasure,” said sonia, pausing in her work to answer martha’s whispered words.
so, in this dream, at least, martha was not to be disappointed; and she parted from her friend with the delightful expectation that she was to see her next as her guest.
the young girl waked early next morning, and had her first breakfast with her brother; and after he had gone she found the time long while she waited for her visitor. no definite hour had been agreed upon, and she was afraid that the princess would come far too late to suit her eager longing. still she had not liked to urge too much upon her.
martha had ordered heaps of flowers to make her room and the little boudoir which adjoined it look attractive; and she took harold in to inspect them before he went away. he rushed through hurriedly, said everything was charming, gave her a hasty kiss, and was gone.
she stood at the window, which looked upon the place de la madeleine, and waited a long time, thinking deeply. the flower-mar{104}ket below was unusually rich, as the day was warm and springlike; and it presently occurred to her that among the glowing masses of bloom exposed to view there were some varieties of flowers which she did not have. she therefore determined to fill up a part of the time of waiting by going down to get some of these. hastily putting on her hat, she ran down the winding stairway, crossed the open space, and was soon threading her way among the flower-stalls under the shadow of the beautiful great church. she kept her eye on the entrance to her apartment-house, however; and as she knew the princess’s carriage and livery, she felt that there was no danger of failing to see her friend, should she happen to arrive during her brief absence.
the princess, however, did not come in her carriage, or, rather, she sent it away after having crossed the thronged streets of the place de la concorde, and, wrapped in her dark cloak, she walked quickly along with the foot-passengers until she reached the house of which she was in search. then she slipped quietly in, and mounted the steps to the third story.
her ring was answered by a man-servant,who explained that his young mistress had just gone down to the flower-market for a moment, and who ushered her into the large salon to wait.
scarcely was she seated there when the bell rang again, and the servant opened the door to admit harold. he had forgotten an important paper, and had come back for it in great haste. he knew that it was his part to avoid the princess in case she should have arrived; but concluding that she would, of course, be with martha in her own rooms, he came directly into the salon, which was the nearest way of reaching his own apartment.
when he had entered, and the door was closed behind him, he took two or three steps forward, and then stopped as if petrified in his place.
the princess had risen to her feet, and stood confronting him, her face as pale and agitated as his own.
“i beg your pardon,” he said, taking off his hat mechanically; “did you, perhaps, wish to see me?”
“no,” she answered; “i wished to see your sister. she has gone across to the flower-market.{106}”
her eyes had fallen under his, and she felt that she was trembling as she stood in front of him and answered his questions as mechanically as a stupid child.
“i beg your pardon,” he said again; and he seemed to grow paler still as he stood there irresolute.
“do you wish to see my sister alone?” he then said. “i don’t understand. do you wish me to stay or to go?”
“i wish you to go,” she said, rallying a little as the thought occurred to her that martha might return. “your sister is expecting me. i came with the understanding that you were to be away.”
a light broke over him, but it cast a sudden shadow on his face.
“you are, then, the princess of whom she has spoken to me,” he said. “i beg your pardon.”
“i am sophia rutledge,” she said. “martha believes me to be a princess, and i let her think it. some one in the atelier told her so. what will you tell her now?”
“exactly what you wish.”
“say nothing. let her keep her delusion. her friendship is dear to me; i do not wish it turned to hate.”
“i shall say nothing,” he said.
they both stood silent there a moment, looking away from each other. then the woman, feeling her knees grow weak and trembling under her, sank back into her seat; and the man, urged by some impulse of self-protection which demanded that he should fly, had bowed and left the room before she had quite recovered from the momentary dizziness which had possessed her as she fell into her chair. she heard the front door close behind him presently, and knew that he was gone. then she felt that she must brace herself to meet martha calmly.
when the young girl, a few moments later, came in with her load of flowers, and smilingly uttered her apologies and surprise at having missed her, her friend’s senses seemed somehow to return, and she was able to answer calmly.
it seemed to martha that the beautiful princess looked ill, and she was tenderly anxious about her; but she little suspected that during those few moments of her absence sonia and her old love had been face to face, or, more marvelous still, that harold had seen again the woman who had been his wife.