He didn't know exactly why he had not strolled over. Possibly a vague idea that he had better not interfere to distract the girl's attention from her first lessons in the refinements of existence had kept him away from her vicinity.
He didn't even know that he had missed her; he knew only that for some occult reason or other he had felt rather lonely lately.
He painted away steadily, pausing to relight his pipe now and then, and all the while Ariadne, never stirring, stared persistently across the landscape, neglecting her uncleansed whisker.
Suddenly, with a little mew of recognition and greeting, she trotted forward through the grass; and the next moment two soft hands fell lightly upon Warner's shoulders from behind.
"Philippa!" he exclaimed, enchanted.
"Oh, Jim!" she cried joyously, abandoning both hands to him as he sprang to his feet and faced her.
She was so eager, so pretty in her unfeigned delight, as though it had been four years instead of four days since they had seen each other; and he seemed to feel something of this, also, for he held her hands closely and laughed without any apparent reason for mirth--unless the sheer contentment of contact and possession be a reason.
"Are you well and happy, Philippa?"
"Yes, I am happy enough up there. But, oh, how dreadfully I have missed you, Jim--may I call you Jim?--I do to myself----"
"Of course!"
"I _think_ of you that way--so it came very naturally to my lips--if you really don't mind? And besides, I am so happy to be with you.... Peggy Brooks and I were looking over maps in the library--you know, the _Petit Journal_ says that the Prussians are firing enormous shells into Liege--and so Peggy and I were down on our knees over the maps of Belgium. Oh, dear! You know, it isn't so very far from us here if you take a ruler and measure by scale.... And it seemed to sober us both--we had been laughing, I don't remember exactly what about--but studying the map made us both serious, and Peggy went upstairs to talk it over with the Countess, and I felt that I couldn't stand being away from you for a single minute longer!"
"You dear child!"
"So I asked Peggy to ask Madame de Moidrey if I might pay you a little visit, and she said, 'Of course.' So I came as fast as I could----" She laughed and made a sweeping gesture with both arms outflung: "And here I am! Are you contented?"
She stooped and stroked Ariadne, looking up to smile at him.
"Careful of her whisker; there is blue paint on it," he warned Philippa; but the girl wiped off the ultramarine with a green leaf and took the cat to her heart, covering her with caresses and murmuring endearments.
"Jim, dear, what do _you_ think?" she asked presently.
"About what?"
"About the war?"
He said gravely:
"I don't quite understand how those magnificent Belgian forts are being knocked to pieces--if what the paper says is true. I supposed them to be among the strongest fortifications in the world."
"Madame de Moidrey says they are. Her husband, the late Count Victor, was an artillery officer. And she told Peggy and me that the Count de Moidrey had always said they were the very strongest forts in the world."
"_Something's_ gone wrong; that is evident," said Warner. "But not with _you_, Philippa," he added, smiling at her. "I never saw you looking as well; and that's a tremendously fetching frock you're wearing."
It was a white outing gown of serge, and the girl wore white stockings and tennis shoes, and a soft white hat--a boyish headgear which became her enchantingly.
"Peggy gave it to me," she said. "It is very American, isn't it?"
"It's adorable on _you_. Do you like Peggy Brooks?"
"Yes."
"And Madame de Moidrey?"
"Yes, I do--rather."
"Not entirely?"
"Jim----"
"What?"
"Yes, I--yes, I do like her.... But I don't do much to earn my wages. And that troubles me."
"Your salary?"
Philippa laughed:
"Wages, salary--what does it matter what you call them, when both merely mean pay for work performed.... I should like to do something for Madame de Moidrey in return. But she has many servants and a maid and a housekeeper. I thought I was to read to her, write letters for her, amuse her. But she sometimes reads to me and she and Peggy are teaching me to play tennis----" Philippa held out one narrow foot for his inspection. "And yesterday she ordered a horse for me, as well as for herself and her sister, and I wore one of Peggy's riding habits--knee breeches and boots, Jim; and they set me on a horse! _That_ is the way I am earning my wages at the Chateau des Oiseaux!"
"Why complain?" he asked, much amused.
"Because I am unable to return such favors----"
"Don't worry; whatever they do for you brings its own recompense."
"How?"
"Has it never occurred to you that your society is agreeable, interesting, amusing, and desirable?"
"No," she said, honestly surprised.
"Well, it is! People like you. You yourself amply recompense anybody for anything done for you, by accepting the attentions offered."
"Do _you_ think of me in that way?"
He hadn't quite understood until then that he did feel that way about her, but he felt it now so strongly that it seemed as though he had always been of that mind.
"I've always thought so," he said. "There is never a dull moment with you, Philippa. No wonder people seek you and like you and pet you!"
Philippa blushed and tried to smile, then for a moment she buried her flushed face in Ariadne's fluffy fur until her cheeks cooled.
"If," she said, "I had a home and an income, however tiny, I should not feel at all embarrassed by courtesies from others, because I should, in my turn, offer the best I possessed. But, Jim--a homeless girl--with all that I have been--endured!--I don't know--but I should feel more comfortable if I could be of some service in return for all that these very kind Americans offer me."
She placed Ariadne on the grass, turned and looked down at the river.
"There is my punt," she said. "Isn't it curious to remember that you and I first became friends in that boat? It seems to have happened very long ago, when I was a child.... You made me wash my face; do you remember?"
"I do," he replied gayly. "You looked like a schoolgirl made up for the part of Jezebel."
She blushed and hung her head. Presently her lowered eyes were raised to him in a distressed, questioning way, and he came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
"I never thought ill of you, Philippa--never doubted you were anything except what you really are."
She looked up into his eyes:
"I don't know what I really am. But I am beginning to understand that I can be whatever you desire. Also, I am beginning to understand how generous you have been to me in your thoughts. Both you and Mr. Halkett had every reason to think lightly of the _caissiere_ of the Cabaret de Biribi, with her painted lips and cheeks and her easy manners----" She shrugged. "And perhaps, but for the grace of God and you, I should have become what I appeared to be.... Let us sit in the punt. Shall we?"
They went down to the river together, Ariadne marching at their heels with tail erect, and the girl stepped aboard and seated herself in the stern which, afloat, swung in the limpid eddy among the tall, green rushes.
When Warner also was seated, at her feet, she drew from the pocket of her white serge jacket a letter, and, leaning over him, opened and displayed it.
The letter was written in French on common writing paper, in a perfectly legible but uneducated hand.
MADEMOISELLE [it began],
You are watched and your present whereabouts is known. You are warned to keep your mouth shut. Any treachery, even any slight indiscretion on your part, will be fully revenged by those you betray.
The wages of a traitor are death. Be advised in time. Return to your duty while there is yet time and your present ingratitude will be forgiven.
Make up your mind at once. There is no time to waste. _What is to happen shall happen! It is coming very fast. It is almost upon us_.
The safety which you suppose that the present condition of affairs guarantees you is but momentary. Peril threatens you; certain punishment awaits you. Documents in possession of those whom you threaten to betray are sufficient to condemn you now.
And more than that: we hold over you the power of life and death; and shall hold it, _no matter what happens in Ausone_!
Either way we can destroy you.
Return to us, therefore; accept forgiveness while there is yet time. You know who has caused this to be written. Therefore, enough!
Return and find security; remain to betray us and you shall be shot!
When Warner finished reading this outrageous missive, he looked up into Philippa's undisturbed face, and she smiled.
"When did you receive this?" he demanded.
"It came in the noon mail yesterday."
"Of course it's from Wildresse."
"Of course," she said simply. "What do you think of it?"
"I think very little of it," he replied. "Threatened people are good insurance risks. If he could have harmed you, he'd not have troubled to write you about his amiable designs on you.... It's a pity--a great pity, Philippa--that we dare not call in the police."