The Point of View: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Stella found the automobile drawing up at a strange hotel's
doors her tremors broke out afresh, until she saw the face of
Ivan, who, with the porter, came forward to meet her, saying
respectfully in French, would mademoiselle be pleased to mount
directly to the rooms reserved for the Princess Urazov? And soon,
without anyone questioning her, she found herself being taken up
in the lift, and finally ushered into a charming sitting-room full
of flowers.

Here she sat down and trembled again. The wildest excitement
filled her veins. Would Sasha never come! She could not sit still,
she walked from bouquet to bouquet of roses and carnations,
sniffing the scent, and at last subsided into a big armchair, as
the waiters brought in some tea.

He thought of everything for her, then--her lover. But oh, why did
he not come!

She had finished her tea and had begun her restless pacing again,
when, with a gentle tap, the door opened, and Count Roumovski
appeared.

"Sasha!" she cried, and advanced toward him like a frightened
child.

His usually calm blue eyes were blazing with some emotion which
disturbed her greatly, she knew not why, and his voice seemed to
have taken a tone of extra deepness, as he said:

"Stella! My little star! And so you are really here--and my own!"

He put his strong hands down and held on to the back of a chair,
and simple as she was she knew very well that otherwise he would
have taken her into his arms, which was where she was longing to
be, if she had known.

"Yes, I have come," she whispered, "I have left them all--for you.
Oh! when will your sister be here?"

"Not until six o'clock, darling," he answered, while his eyes
melted upon her with passionate love. "There is an hour yet to
wait. I had hoped you would not have been forced to leave your
aunt's care until then."

"Oh! I am delighted to have come away," Stella answered, regaining
some of her composure. "I was shut into my room and watched by a
servant. It was awful! But do--you know what has happened now?
since I left? Are they tearing about after me, or what?"

Count Roumovski still held on to the back of the chair, and his
voice was still deep, as he said:

"I believe they have gone to your Embassy in a band--and much good
may they get there. You are of age, you see. Besides, I have taken
care that no one at the Grand Hotel knows where we have gone, and
it will take them quite an hour or two to telephone about and find
out--and by that time my sister will have arrived, and we can defy
them."

"Yes," said Stella, and then, nervously, "won't you have some
tea?"

He sat down, still constrainedly and clasped his hands, and
womanlike, when she saw his agitation, her own lessened, and she
assumed command, while she asked almost archly if he took cream
and sugar.

He liked neither, he said, and with the air of a little hostess
she handed him the cup. Then she smiled softly and stood quite
near him.

He drew himself together and his face looked almost stern as he
took the tea, and over Stella there crept a chill--and the gay
little speech that had been bubbling to her lips died there, and a
silence fell upon them for a few moments. Then he put down his cup
and crossed to the stiff sofa where she was, and sat down beside
her.

"Sweetheart," he said, looking deeply into her eyes, "it is a
colossal temptation, you know, to me to make love to you. But I am
not going to permit myself that happiness yet. I want to tell you
all about what we shall do presently, and see if it pleases you."
He did not even take her hand, and Stella felt rather aggrieved
and wounded. "I propose that as soon as the formalities can be got
through, and the wedding can take place, that we go straight to
Paris--because you will want to get all kinds of clothes. And it
will be such a delight to me to give you everything you wish for."

Stella smiled shyly. It seemed suddenly to bring realities of
things before her with keen force. He would have the right to give
her everything in the world--this man whom she did not really
know, but whom she felt she loved very much. She clasped her hands
and a thrill ran through her. What, what did it all mean? The idea
of her marriage with Eustace Medlicott had always appeared as an
ugly vision, an end to everything, a curtain which was yet drawn
over a view which could only be all dusk and gray shadows, and
which she would rather not contemplate. But now the thought of
going away and beginning a new existence with Sasha Roumovski was
something so glorious and delicious that she quivered with joy at
any reference to it.

Her little movement and the clasping of her hands affected him
profoundly. He, too, quivered, but with the stern effort to
control himself. It was part of his code of honor. Not the
slightest advantage must be taken of the situation while Stella
was alone and unchaperoned, although the very fact of their
propinquity and the knowledge of their solitude were extremely
exciting to him, who knew the meaning of every emotion. He drew a
little away from her, and said in a voice that sounded cold:

"I have seen the consul this afternoon. It will take three weeks,
I am afraid, before we can be legally married here in Rome. It
seems an eternity to me."

"Yes," agreed Stella, and suddenly looked down. She wished
intensely that he would caress her a little--although she was
unaware of the desire. She wondered vaguely--was it then very
wicked to make love, since Sasha, too, like Eustace, seemed as if
he were resisting something with all his strength? And
unconsciously she pouted her red underlip, and Count Roumovski
moved convulsively.

"My sister's room is next to this," he said, "and yours is beyond.
I have had only roses put there, because you are like a sweet June
rose."

"Am I?" said Miss Rawson, and raised her head. She had grown
extremely excited and disappointed, and, she knew not what, only
that she did not like this new lover of hers to be sitting there
constrained and aloof, talking in a stiff voice unlike his usual
easy grace. It was perfectly ridiculous to have run away with some
one with whom she was passionately in love, if he were going to
remain as cold as ice!

She got up and took a rose from a vase and fastened it in her
dress. The whole movement and action had the unconscious coquetry
of a woman's methods to gain her end. Totally unaccustomed as
Stella was to all artifices, instinct was her teacher.

Sasha Roumovski rose suddenly.

"Come and sit here beside me again, heart of mine," he commanded
with imperious love, and indicated the stiff Louis XIV sofa. "I
must explain everything to you, it would seem."

Stella had never heard this tone in his voice before; it caused
her strange delight, and she shyly took her seat at one end of the
sofa, and then, as he flung himself down beside her, she looked up
at him.

"What must you explain?" she asked.

"First, that I love you madly, that it is sickening temptation to
be with you now every instant without holding you in my arms," and
his voice trembled, while his blue eyes glowed. "That I do not
know how to resist the wild passion which is overcoming me. I want
to kiss you so terribly, more than I have ever wanted anything in
my life."

"We-ll?" said Stella, with a quiver of exquisite joy. "And--" she
had almost spoken her thought of, "Why do you not do so, then?"--
but the burning passion she read in his made her drop her eyes.
This was too much for him. He understood perfectly, and, with a
little cry, he drew her to him, and his lips had almost touched
her red, young, pouting lips when he suddenly controlled himself
and put her from him.

"No, sweetheart," he said hoarsely, "you would never respect me
any more if I took advantage of your tenderness now. As soon--as
soon as I really may, I will teach you every shade of love and its
meanings. I will kiss those lips and unloosen that hair; I will
suffocate you with caresses and make you thrill as I shall thrill
until we both forget everything in the intoxication of bliss," and
he half-closed his eyes, and his face grew pale again with
suppressed emotion.

"Oh, I do not understand at all," Stella said, in a disappointed
and perplexed voice. "Since we are going to be married, why would
it be so very wrong for you to kiss me? I--I--" her small rueful
face, with its sweet childlike irregular curves, looked almost
pathetically comic, and Sasha leaned forward and covered his eyes
with his hands. And then he mastered himself and laughed softly.

"Oh, you adorable one!" he said. "It is not wrong--not the least
wrong. Only presently, when you do understand, you will realize
how very much I loved you to-day."

But Stella was still pouting--and got up restlessly and went to
the window.

"What can they do when they get to the Embassy?" she asked. "Could
they really take me back if they found me by telephoning round?"

"I do not think so--if you are past twenty-one."

"I was twenty-one in April. I am not a bit afraid of them, but I
do not want to have any row."

"When my sister has arrived you must write to your aunt, and tell
where you are and what are your intentions, then all will be
finished."

"Oh, I wish she would come, don't you?" Stella said.

"More than I can say, darling," he answered, fervently. "You will
not, I hope, find me so incomprehensible then."

He walked about the room once or twice, and at last paused in
front of her.

"Stella," he whispered, while his eyes blazed again, "I cannot
bear it, little sweetheart, to stay all alone with you here. Will
you forgive me, if I leave you until Anastasia has arrived? Go and
rest in your room, darling, and I will go to the station to meet
her. Ivan will remain outside your door and you will be quite
safe."

But Stella put out her hands like a frightened baby.

"Oh. must you leave me?" she cried, pettishly. "You are very
cruel! You make me almost wish I had not come."

From having swum with love and passion his eyes suddenly gave
forth a flash of steel, and his voice was like ice as he answered:

"If that is so, mademoiselle, it is not too late. I would not
exact any unwilling sacrifice. Shall I take you back again?"

And then Stella's childishness melted and fell from her, and she
became a real woman as she looked into his stern face.

"No--" she said, "I will not go back. I am sorry I was so
uncontrolled, but I am nervous--and I do not know exactly what I
am--Sasha, please take care of me," and she held out her hands
with a piteous gesture of asking for his protection, and moved
beyond all power of further control he folded her in his arms.

"My darling, my darling!" he murmured, frantically kissing her
hair. But his iron will reasserted itself in a few seconds, and
while he still held her he said with more calm:

"Little star, you must never speak to me like that again, as you
did just now, I mean. It was unreasonable and not kind, if you but
knew! And I have a very arrogant temper, I fear, although I am
nearly master of it, and shall be quite in time, I hope. We might
have parted then and spoilt both our lives. Won't you believe me
that I love--I adore you!" he went on tenderly. "I am madly
longing to be for you the most passionate lover a woman ever had.
It is only for your sake and for honor and our future happiness
that I restrain myself now. You see I am not an Englishman who can
accept half-measures. Do not make it impossible for me, sweet
love!"

His voice was almost a sob in its deep notes of pleading, and
Stella was touched.

"Oh! you are so dear and great," she answered fondly. "I am
perhaps very wicked to have tempted you. If it would be wrong for
you to kiss me, which I cannot understand, it is--oh, it is
because I love you like that, too!"

At this ingenuous admission, passion nearly overcame him again,
and he held her so tightly it seemed as if he must crush out her
very breath. Then he put her from him and walked toward the door.

"I dare not stay another second," he said, in a strangled voice.
"Ivan will guard your room, and my sister will come to you soon.
Do as I tell you, beloved one, and then all will be well."

With which he opened the door, and left her standing by the sofa
quivering with a strange joy and perplexity--and some other wild
emotion of which she had not dreamed.

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