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<h2> CHAPTER VII </h2>
<p>One Sunday afternoon some time after this they were sailing the summer
seas in their dream yacht, and reclining in lazy luxury under the awning
of the after-deck. There was silence, for each was busy with his own
thoughts. These seasons of silence had insensibly been growing more and
more frequent of late; the old nearness and cordiality were waning.
Sally's terrible revelation had done its work; Aleck had tried hard to
drive the memory of it out of her mind, but it would not go, and the shame
and bitterness of it were poisoning her gracious dream life. She could see
now (on Sundays) that her husband was becoming a bloated and repulsive
Thing. She could not close her eyes to this, and in these days she no
longer looked at him, Sundays, when she could help it.</p>
<p>But she—was she herself without blemish? Alas, she knew she was not.
She was keeping a secret from him, she was acting dishonorably toward him,
and many a pang it was costing her. SHE WAS BREAKING THE COMPACT, AND
CONCEALING IT FROM HIM. Under strong temptation she had gone into business
again; she had risked their whole fortune in a purchase of all the railway
systems and coal and steel companies in the country on a margin, and she
was now trembling, every Sabbath hour, lest through some chance word of
hers he find it out. In her misery and remorse for this treachery she
could not keep her heart from going out to him in pity; she was filled
with compunctions to see him lying there, drunk and contented, and ever
suspecting. Never suspecting—trusting her with a perfect and
pathetic trust, and she holding over him by a thread a possible calamity
of so devastating a—</p>
<p>"SAY—Aleck?"</p>
<p>The interrupting words brought her suddenly to herself. She was grateful
to have that persecuting subject from her thoughts, and she answered, with
much of the old-time tenderness in her tone:</p>
<p>"Yes, dear."</p>
<p>"Do you know, Aleck, I think we are making a mistake—that is, you
are. I mean about the marriage business." He sat up, fat and froggy and
benevolent, like a bronze Buddha, and grew earnest. "Consider—it's
more than five years. You've continued the same policy from the start:
with every rise, always holding on for five points higher. Always when I
think we are going to have some weddings, you see a bigger thing ahead,
and I undergo another disappointment. <i>I</i> think you are too hard to
please. Some day we'll get left. First, we turned down the dentist and the
lawyer. That was all right—it was sound. Next, we turned down the
banker's son and the pork-butcher's heir—right again, and sound.
Next, we turned down the Congressman's son and the Governor's—right
as a trivet, I confess it. Next the Senator's son and the son of the
Vice-President of the United States—perfectly right, there's no
permanency about those little distinctions. Then you went for the
aristocracy; and I thought we had struck oil at last—yes. We would
make a plunge at the Four Hundred, and pull in some ancient lineage,
venerable, holy, ineffable, mellow with the antiquity of a hundred and
fifty years, disinfected of the ancestral odors of salt-cod and pelts all
of a century ago, and unsmirched by a day's work since, and then! why,
then the marriages, of course. But no, along comes a pair of real
aristocrats from Europe, and straightway you throw over the half-breeds.
It was awfully discouraging, Aleck! Since then, what a procession! You
turned down the baronets for a pair of barons; you turned down the barons
for a pair of viscounts; the viscounts for a pair of earls; the earls for
a pair of marquises; the marquises for a brace of dukes. NOW, Aleck, cash
in!—you've played the limit. You've got a job lot of four dukes
under the hammer; of four nationalities; all sound in the wind and limb
and pedigree, all bankrupt and in debt up to the ears. They come high, but
we can afford it. Come, Aleck, don't delay any longer, don't keep up the
suspense: take the whole lay-out, and leave the girls to choose!"</p>
<p>Aleck had been smiling blandly and contentedly all through this
arraignment of her marriage policy, a pleasant light, as of triumph with
perhaps a nice surprise peeping out through it, rose in her eyes, and she
said, as calmly as she could:</p>
<p>"Sally, what would you say to—ROYALTY?"</p>
<p>Prodigious! Poor man, it knocked him silly, and he fell over the
garboard-strake and barked his shin on the cat-heads. He was dizzy for a
moment, then he gathered himself up and limped over and sat down by his
wife and beamed his old-time admiration and affection upon her in floods,
out of his bleary eyes.</p>
<p>"By George!" he said, fervently, "Aleck, you ARE great—the greatest
woman in the whole earth! I can't ever learn the whole size of you. I
can't ever learn the immeasurable deeps of you. Here I've been considering
myself qualified to criticize your game. <i>I!</i> Why, if I had stopped
to think, I'd have known you had a lone hand up your sleeve. Now, dear
heart, I'm all red-hot impatience—tell me about it!"</p>
<p>The flattered and happy woman put her lips to his ear and whispered a
princely name. It made him catch his breath, it lit his face with
exultation.</p>
<p>"Land!" he said, "it's a stunning catch! He's got a gambling-hall, and a
graveyard, and a bishop, and a cathedral—all his very own. And all
gilt-edged five-hundred-per-cent. stock, every detail of it; the tidiest
little property in Europe; and that graveyard—it's the selectest in
the world: none but suicides admitted; YES, sir, and the free-list
suspended, too, ALL the time. There isn't much land in the principality,
but there's enough: eight hundred acres in the graveyard and forty-two
outside. It's a SOVEREIGNTY—that's the main thing; LAND'S nothing.
There's plenty land, Sahara's drugged with it."</p>
<p>Aleck glowed; she was profoundly happy. She said:</p>
<p>"Think of it, Sally—it is a family that has never married outside
the Royal and Imperial Houses of Europe: our grandchildren will sit upon
thrones!"</p>
<p>"True as you live, Aleck—and bear scepters, too; and handle them as
naturally and nonchantly as I handle a yardstick. It's a grand catch,
Aleck. He's corralled, is he? Can't get away? You didn't take him on a
margin?"</p>
<p>"No. Trust me for that. He's not a liability, he's an asset. So is the
other one."</p>
<p>"Who is it, Aleck?"</p>
<p>"His Royal Highness
Sigismund-Siegfriend-Lauenfeld-Dinkelspiel-Schwartzenberg Blutwurst,
Hereditary Grant Duke of Katzenyammer."</p>
<p>"No! You can't mean it!"</p>
<p>"It's as true as I'm sitting here, I give you my word," she answered.</p>
<p>His cup was full, and he hugged her to his heart with rapture, saying:</p>
<p>"How wonderful it all seems, and how beautiful! It's one of the oldest and
noblest of the three hundred and sixty-four ancient German principalities,
and one of the few that was allowed to retain its royal estate when
Bismarck got done trimming them. I know that farm, I've been there. It's
got a rope-walk and a candle-factory and an army. Standing army. Infantry
and cavalry. Three soldier and a horse. Aleck, it's been a long wait, and
full of heartbreak and hope deferred, but God knows I am happy now. Happy,
and grateful to you, my own, who have done it all. When is it to be?"</p>
<p>"Next Sunday."</p>
<p>"Good. And we'll want to do these weddings up in the very regalest style
that's going. It's properly due to the royal quality of the parties of the
first part. Now as I understand it, there is only one kind of marriage
that is sacred to royalty, exclusive to royalty: it's the morganatic."</p>
<p>"What do they call it that for, Sally?"</p>
<p>"I don't know; but anyway it's royal, and royal only."</p>
<p>"Then we will insist upon it. More—I will compel it. It is
morganatic marriage or none."</p>
<p>"That settles it!" said Sally, rubbing his hands with delight. "And it
will be the very first in America. Aleck, it will make Newport sick."</p>
<p>Then they fell silent, and drifted away upon their dream wings to the far
regions of the earth to invite all the crowned heads and their families
and provide gratis transportation to them.</p>
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