The Car of Destiny

								

hers, and set me apart in her mind from other men.
It was no stupid conceit which made me feel this, but a kind of exalted
conviction.
When the gate was shut, I took off my hat and looked at the lighted
windows. I could make her care. I said to myself, "We're meant for each
other. And if that's true, though all the mountains in the world were
piled up as barriers between us, I'd cross them."
That was a vow. And through the remaining hours of the night I tried to
plan how it would be best to begin its fulfilment.
Men who have gone through a campaign as close friends, have few secrets
from one another; and I had none from Dick Waring. Nevertheless, I would
now have kept one if it were possible; but it was not. If I had not told
him, he would have guessed, and then he might have thought that he had the
right to chaff me on losing my head.
It is only a happy lover who can bear to be chaffed, however, and a few
words were enough to show my tactful American where to set his feet on the
slippery path.
He too had seen the girl; therefore he could not be surprised at my state
of mind. But he regretted it, and urged that the best I could do was to go
away, before the thought of her had taken too deep a hold upon me.
"You see," he said, "you're in a hopeless position; and it's better to
look facts in the face. If you'd fallen in love with almost any other
girl, except Princess Ena herself, you might have hoped. But as it is,
what have you to look forward to? You oughtn't to have come to Biarritz.
In the circumstances, and with the King here, it was bravado. Friends of
his, enemies of yours, might even say it was bad taste, which is worse.
And then, having come, you proceed to follow the King's motor-car; you
fall head over ears in love with a girl in it, a friend of the
bride-elect, to whom your real name, if she's not heard it already, could
easily be made to seem anathema maranatha. But that's not all. You're here
under a name not your own. If you should by luck or ill-luck get a chance
to meet Lady Monica, you couldn't be introduced to her as Christopher
Trevenna; it would be a false pretence; still less could you throw your
real name in her face; for between the King of Spain as a friend, and you
as an acquaintance, the girl would be in an uncomfortable position, to say
the least. No, my dear fellow, you can't meet this young lady; and the
only thing for your peace of mind, if you've really fallen in love, is to
go away."
I had no arguments with which to meet Dick's. I listened in silence, but--I
made no preparation for departure. If there was nothing to be gained by
staying, at least there was as little to be gained by going; for I knew
that I should not forget the girl. If I were struck blind, her face would
still live for my eyes, white and pure against a background of darkness.
We stayed on at Biarritz, but I behaved with circumspection, and made no