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Prince or Chauffeur? A Story of Newport

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<h3> CHAPTER XII </h3> <h3> MISS HATCH SHOWS SHE LOVES A LOVER </h3> When Armitage entered the servants' dining-room he found the head footman, who presided, in something of a quandary as to where he should place him. Emilia, Miss Wellington's maid, had of course lost no time in imparting to all with whom she was on terms of confidence, that the new chauffeur was the same with whom her mistress had flirted on the General. Consequently, Armitage was at once the object of interest, suspicion, respect, and jealousy. But the head footman greeted him cordially enough and after shifting and rearranging seats, indicated a chair near the lower end of the table, which Armitage accepted with a nod. He was immensely interested. The talk was of cricket. Some of the cottagers whose main object in life was aping the ways of the English, had organized a cricket team, and as there were not enough of them for an opposing eight, they had been compelled to resort to the grooms. There were weekly matches in which the hirelings invariably triumphed. One of the Wellington grooms, an alert young cockney, was the bowler, and his success, as well as the distinguished social station of his opponents, appeared to Armitage to have quite turned his pert little head. There was a pretty Irish chambermaid at Jack's elbow whose eyes were as gray as the stones in the Giants' Causeway, but glittering now with scorn. For heretofore, Henry Phipps had been an humble worshipper. She permitted several of his condescending remarks to pass without notice, but finally when he answered a question put by another groom with a bored monosyllable, the girl flew to the latter's defence. "'Yes' and 'no,' is it?" she blazed. "Henry Phipps, ye 're like the ass in the colored skin—not half as proud as ye 're painted. A bowler, ye are! But ye take yer hat off after the game, just the same, and bowl out yer masters with a 'thank ye, sur; my misthake!' Ye grovellin' thing, ya!" "Really," yawned Henry in his rich dialect. "Really!" mocked the girl. "I could give ye talk about a real Prince—none of yer Rensselaers or Van Antwerps and the like—had I—" Armitage leaned forward, but anything more the maid might have been tempted to say was interrupted by a footman from the superintendent's table. "Mr. Dawson says you 're to come to his table," he said nodding to Armitage, who arose with real reluctance, not because of any desire for intimate knowledge of the servants' hall, but because he had decided he could use the Irish maid to the ends he had in view. Now that lead was closed for the time at least and he took his place at the side of the decorous butler, uncheered by Mr. Dawson's announcement that Miss Wellington had ordered his promotion. "It was very good of Miss Wellington," he said in a perfunctory manner. "Oh, not at all," replied the butler. "Frequently the chauffeur sits at our table." He shrugged his shoulders. "It depends upon the manner of men. They are of all sorts and constantly changing." Armitage glanced at Buchan and grinned. "Thanks," he said. The butler nodded and then apropos of some thought passing through his mind he glanced tentatively at the housekeeper. "We 'll wake up, I suppose, with the Prince here. I hope so. I have never seen everybody in Newport so quiet." "Yes, I imagine so," replied Mrs. Stetson. "Several are coming the middle of the week and of course you know of the Flower Ball for Friday night." "Of course," said the butler, who a second later belied his assumption of knowledge by muttering, "Flower Ball, eh! Gracious, I wonder what won't Mrs. Wellington be up to next!" "I don't think I like Prince Koltsoff," said Miss Hatch. "Well," agreed the superintendent, "he's a Russian." "Oh, I don't care about that," replied the young woman. "He is going to marry Miss Wellington—and he 's not the man for her. He 's not the man for any girl as nice as Anne Wellington. Think of it. Ugh!" "So!" interjected the tutor, Dumois, who had turned many a dollar supplying the newspapers with information, for which they had been willing to pay liberally. "International alliance! How interesting. The latest, eh?" "No, it's not the latest," replied the secretary. "If it were, I should have said nothing. It's only a baseless fear; but a potent one." "Oh," Dumois turned ruefully to his plate. "He attracts her," resumed the secretary. "That is to be seen plainly—and she attracts him. That is as far as it has gone." "That is quite far," observed the tutor, glancing up hopefully. "Oh, no," said Armitage warmly. He paused, and then finding every one looking at him he applied himself to his luncheon not without confusion. "I wish I could agree with you," sighed Miss Hatch. "She is a dear girl. But you don't understand girls of her class. They have the queerest ideas." "Oh, I don't think they differ from other girls," said Mrs. Stetson. "It is merely that they have the actual opportunity for realizing what to other girls are mere dreams. I can imagine what my daughter would have done if a foreign nobleman had paid court to her. I will say this for Miss Wellington though; she would marry her chauffeur if she took the whim." Armitage, caught off his guard, looked up quickly. "You don't say!" he exclaimed, whereat every one laughed and Dawson shook his head in mock seriousness at him. "See here, young man, if you make an attempt to demonstrate Mrs. Stetson's theory, Ronald Wellington will drive you out of the country." Armitage laughed. "Well," he said, "I 'll pick Vienna." As they were leaving the table, Miss Hatch caught Armitage's eye. She had lingered behind the rest, bending over some ferns which showed signs of languishing. Her eyeglasses glittered humorously at Armitage as he sauntered carelessly to her side. "It is all right, Mr. McCall," she said. "All right?" "I mean the incident in the garage. Master Ronald applied vigorously for your discharge." Armitage smiled. "I imagined he would. The application was not sustained?" "Hardly. At first, of course, Mrs. Wellington was quite indignant. Then Miss Wellington came in and really she was a perfect fury in your behalf. She made Master Ronald confess he had been smoking and showed quite clearly that you were right." "Bully for her! As a matter of fact, I don't think it was any of my business. But that chap got on my nerves." "He gets on all our nerves. But I 'm quite sure he 's all right at heart. It's a disagreeable age in a boy." She paused and gazed steadily at Armitage for a second. "I cannot imagine why you are here, Mr. McCall. And yet—and yet, I wonder." She shrugged her shoulders. "Pray don't think me rude," she said and smiled, "but I really am—hoping. I can read Anne Wellington at times, and you—oh, I am rude—but I seem to read you like an open book." Armitage was looking at her curiously, but obviously he was not offended. She stepped towards him impulsively. "Oh, Mr. Arm—McCall—-" she stopped, blushing confusedly. The break was too much even for Armitage's presence of mind. He jerked his head upward, then collecting himself resumed his expression of amused interest. The secretary made no attempt to dissemble her agitation. "I am so sorry," she said, "but you must know now that I know whom you are." Never in his life had Jack felt quite so ill at ease, or so utterly foolish. "Who else knows?" he asked lamely. "Only one, beside myself—Mrs. Wellington." "Mrs. Wellington!" "Naturally," said Miss Hatch placidly. "Did you suppose for a moment you could successfully hide anything from her? Chief Roberts was in the house an hour after you were employed." "Oh!" A great white light illumined Jack's mind. He turned to the woman eagerly. "Do you know what Roberts told her?" "Why, everything, I imagine," said Miss Hatch, laughing. "Everything! But what?" Armitage gestured impatiently. "Please don't think me inquisitive, but I must know—it will depend upon what our loquacious chief said, whether I stay here one more minute." "The chief was not loquacious," smiled Miss Hatch. "He was quite the reverse. You would have enjoyed the grilling Mrs. Wellington gave him. He was no willing witness, but finally admitted you were a naval officer, a son of Senator Armitage, and that you were here to observe the actions of one of the grooms, formerly in the Navy, whom the Government thought needed watching." Inwardly relieved, Armitage grinned broadly. "I like that chief," he said. "He is so secretive. But Mrs. Wellington can't be pleased at having a Navy man masquerading about. Why hasn't she discharged me?" "I can't imagine," said Miss Hatch frankly, "unless—yes, I think she has taken a liking to you. Then, for a woman of her mental processes, discharging you off-hand, come to think of it, would be the one thing she would not do. I think she is interested in awaiting developments. I am sure of it, for she commanded me to speak to no one concerning your identity." "Miss Wellington?" Armitage looked at the woman quickly. "Her daughter was very particularly included in the orders Mrs. Wellington gave." Armitage made no attempt to conceal the pleasure this statement gave him. Then a thought occurred to him. "By the way," he said, looking at Miss Hatch keenly, "if I recall, you said you could not imagine why I am here. In view of all you have told me, why could n't you?" Miss Hatch turned and walked toward the door. At the sill she glanced back over her shoulder and smiled significantly. "Oh, that was an introductory figure of speech," she said. "I think, I think I can—imagine." Then she turned and walking along the hall, with Armitage following, she sang as though to herself: "In days of old when knights were bold And barons held their sway, A warrior bold with spurs of gold Sang merrily his lay. 'Oh, what care I though death be nigh, For love—'" But Armitage had disappeared. "Oh, the little more and how much it is, And the little less and what worlds away." <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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