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She sent him a "picture postal" from Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, which his father disengaged from the family mail, one morning at breakfast, and considerately handed to him without audible comment. Upon it was written, "Oh, you Ramsey!" This was the last of Milla. Just before school opened, in the autumn, Sadie Clews made some revelations. "Milla did like you," said Sadie.
She was homeward bound from a piano lesson, and carried a rolled leather case of sheet music something he couldn't imagine Milla carrying and in her young girl's dress, which attempted to be nothing else, she looked as wholesome as cold spring water. Ramsey had always felt that she despised him and now, all at once, he thought that she was justified.
"Oh, Milla," groaned the diva, "Aslitta is surely dead, or else he would have kept his word, and if I have lost him my life will be at an end." "But, Eugenie," consoled Milla, "why fear the worst always? The sudden stoppage of the coach caused Milla to pause. The negro sprang from the box, opened the door and motioned with his hand to the ladies to descend.
Her clear and earnest voice was distinguishable from all others, and though she did not glance toward Ramsey he had a queer feeling that she was assuming more superiority than ever, and that she was icily scornful of him and Milla. The old resentment rose he'd "show" that girl yet, some day!
"Did not Gianbattista see you, yesterday?" she asked. "No," he replied. "That piece of ill-luck gave me a night of misery. I was so afraid lest you might meet the Duke, whose perversity I know too well. What made Vendramin let your palace to him?" "It was a good idea, Milla, for your Prince is poor enough."
Mingled with the loathing was a curious pride in the very fact that caused the loathing, but the pride did not last long. He came downstairs morbid to breakfast, and continued this mood afterward. At noon Albert Paxton brought him a note which Milla had asked Sadie to ask Albert to give him.
When the Major von Kirchstein and his comrades, attracted by the noise, rushed out into the street, they saw La Luciola's carriage covered with flags bearing the national colors; the diva and her friend were seated therein, and La Luciola enthusiastically cried: "Oh, Milla, Milla, this is great and sublime!" "Comrades!" shouted the major in a rage, "follow me.
He should have been thinking of Milla, of course, at such a time, particularly after the little enchantment just laid upon him by Milla's touch and Milla's curls; and he knew well enough that Miss Yocum was not among the spectators. She was half a mile away, as it happened, gathering "botanical specimens" with one of the teachers which was her idea of what to do at a picnic!
Don't you wish they'd quit, sometimes, about the 'Ole Flag'?" "I dunno," said Milla. "I wasn't listening any at all. I hate speeches." "Well, I could stand 'em," Ramsey said, more generously, "if they'd ever give anybody a little to think about. What's the use always draggin' in George Warshington and the Ole Flag?
"I'm not just exactly sure it's a squirrel," he said. "Kind of hard to make out exactly what it is." He continued to keep his eyes aloft, because he imagined that all of the class were looking at him and Milla, and he felt unable to meet such publicity.
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