Americans -- England -- Fiction; Brothers -- Fiction; Love stories
"Ah! That's as well, because here comes the King of Diamonds. He has
taken a decided fancy to you, and if you have any heart at all, which
I can't discover, you ought to end by being the Queen. No, here comes
the Knave--confound his impudence!--and, by Jove, yes, followed by the
missing heart. I am glad you have got one anyway, even if the King is
not in it. It looks as if you will have some trouble with that Knave,
so beware of him." He glanced up at her for a moment. "Beware of him!"
he repeated deliberately. "He is a dangerous scamp. The King is the
man for you."
She received his caution with that faint smile of hers that softened her
face but never seemed to reach her eyes.
He continued his contemplation of the cards in silence for some seconds.
"Yes," he said finally, "I see an exciting future before you. I hope you
will look out for me when you come into your own. I should value your
majesty's favour immensely."
"I will give you a place at court as the Queen's jester," she said.
He glanced up again sharply, met her smile, and bowed with much ceremony.
"Your majesty's most humble servant!" he declared, "I enter upon my
functions from this day forward. You will see my cap and bells in the
forefront of the throng when you ride to your coronation."
"You are sure there will be a coronation?" she asked.
"It is quite evident," he replied with conviction.
"Even though I chance to be married already?"
He raised his brows. "That so?" he drawled. "Well, it rather complicates
matters, doesn't it? Still--" He looked again at the cards. "It seems
pretty certain. If it weren't for that hobgoblin of a Knave I should say
it was quite so. He comes between the King and the heart, you see. I
shouldn't be too intimate with him if I were you."
She rose, still smiling. "I shall certainly keep him at a respectful
distance," she said. "Good-bye."
"Oh, are you going? Let me escort you! Really, I've nothing else to do."
He swept the cards together and sprang to his feet. "Where may I take
you? Would you like some refreshment?"
She accepted his proffered arm though she instantly negatived his
proposal. "Shall we go down to the vestibule? No doubt you have a partner
for the next dance."
"Have you?" he questioned keenly.
"That is beside the point," she remarked.
"Not at all. It is the centre and crux of the situation. Do say you are
disengaged for the next!" His manner became almost boyishly eager. He
had shed his drawl like a garment. "Say it!" he insisted.
She stood in the doorway as one halting between two opinions. "But if I
am not disengaged?" she said.
He laughed. "There is a remedy for that, I fancy. And the Queen can do
no wrong. Don't be a slave to the great god Convention! He's such a
hideous bore."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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