When she had finished she viewed with dissatisfaction the image her
glass reflected: her hair seemed to her much too formal and
school-girlish in its arrangement, yet had she known it, the severe
lines of burnished plaits suited her small, well-shaped head and the
crude youthful curves of face and slender neck far better than any more
elaborate style. Her dark-blue frock opening in a point at the throat
and leaving the fore-arms bare, seemed suddenly to her newborn critical
sense too childish and plain--and again it suited her perfectly,
throwing into relief the whiteness of her skin and the fairness of her
hair, the lack of frill and furbelow emphasizing the slender waist and
the rounded slimness of hip and breast. And she longed for trained
ringlets and lace flounces.
Dinner was not as pleasant a meal, she thought, as luncheon; the Prince
was silent, almost moody, and conversation languished.
Count Angelescu, quick to perceive the change in his Prince's manner,
and as quickly guessing the cause, did his best to second so worthy a
resolve by making an effort to keep up a conversation on indifferent
topics and to engage Ragna's attention and interest. He was not much of
a conversationalist, however, and quite unused to the society of young
girls. In his part of the world girls were rarely, if ever, seen in
society and the stories and small talk adapted to the married women of
his acquaintance were certainly not of a type suited to present
circumstances.
Ragna was disappointed; she took the Prince's bad humour for a touch of
hauteur and suspected him of regretting having unbent in her society. So
piqued and hurt she made no effort to second Angelescu's efforts. She
ate little and refused wine until champagne was brought and Prince Mirko
insisted upon filling her glass. He had been secretly amused by his
aide's laborious attempts at entertainment and Ragna's very evident
chagrin at his aloofness flattered his vanity. In spite of his
resolution to maintain a barrier of formality between them he could not
resist the temptation of making her face resume its former sunny
expression. Raising his glass in which the bubbles were winking merrily
he said: "Let us drink, Otto, to the health of Mademoiselle, who has
turned the desert of a Norwegian ship into a garden for us!"
Ragna looked up, blushing and smiling; they both touched their glasses
to hers and drank.
"Now Mademoiselle, you must answer the toast!"
"I? Oh, never!" she cried in confusion. "I have never answered a toast
in my life. I don't know how!" Then recovering herself, "You may answer
it for me if you like."
"Shall I?" he asked. "Very well then, I rise, lady and gentleman--no I
don't, I sit down," as a lurch of the ship threw him back into his chair
and spilt half the contents of his glass--"I sit then, as the elements
won't permit of my standing, to thank you for the toast just drunk, and
to propose in return our newborn friendship!"
They all drank to that.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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