On the next morning ensued a hegira from the place, the object whereof
was guarded with the most diplomatic deception and secrecy.
"Why this unanimous desertion?" demanded Van indignantly from the head
of the table when it began to develop that an exodus impended. "Do your
appetites crave the stimulus of city cooking? Are you leaving my simple
roof for the lobster palaces?"
Benton shook his head. "Singular," he commented, studying his
grape-fruit with the air of an oracle gazing into crystal. "There, for
example, is Colonel Centress who will probably tell you that he has had
an imperative summons to confer with his brokers and--"
He paused, while the ancient beau across the table quickly nodded
affirmation.
"Quite so. How did you guess it?" he inquired.
"Never talk business at table, of course, but this is a mysterious
flurry in stocks--quite a mysterious flurry."
"Quite so," echoed Benton. "Nevertheless, if you were to shadow the
gallant Colonel in Manhattan to-day he would probably lead you to a
costuming tailor, where you would discover him in the act of being
fitted with a Roman toga or a crusader's mail."
Mrs. Porter-Woodleigh shot a malicious glance at the tall foreigner
whose emotionless face proved a constant irritation to her exuberant
vivacity. "I understand, Colonel Von Ritz," she innocently suggested,
"that you are to impersonate a polar bear."
The Galavian smiled deep in his eyes only; his lips remained sober. One
would have said that he had not recognized the thrust. "I shall only
remain myself," he replied. "I am allowed to be a looker-on in Venice."
Under her breath the widow confided to her next neighbor: "Ah! then it
is true."
"What are you going to town for?" demanded Mrs. Van, looking
accusingly at Benton, as that gentleman arose from the table.
"I should say," he laughingly responded, "that I am going to complete
final arrangements for getting the Isis into commission, but nobody
would believe me. You are all becoming so diplomatic of late!"
Von Ritz glanced up casually. "There is one very dangerous
diplomacy--one very difficult to become accustomed to," he commented.
"I allude to the American diplomacy of frankness."
"The Isis? To think I have never seen your yacht!" mused Cara. "And
yet you are allowing me to cross on a steamer."
"If she could be put in shape so soon," declared Benton regretfully,
glancing from Von Ritz to Pagratide, "I should shanghai Mrs. Van for a
chaperon and give a party to Europe. Unfortunately I can't get her in
readiness promptly enough; unless," he added hopefully, "Miss Carstow
can postpone her sailing-day?"