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America was awake at last wide awake! and the necessity for prodding her was now limited to the task of putting her to sleep long enough to allow other nations a chance to scrape together enough able bodied seamen to man the ships. William W. Blithers was one of the directors of the All-Seas and All- Ports Company. He was the first American to awake.
Blithers entered the room and stopped just inside the door. He heard it close gently behind him. He was at a loss for the first time in his life. He didn't know whether he was to stop just inside the door fingering his hat like a messenger boy, or go forward and join the group. His gaze fell upon a huge oaken chair at the far end of the table.
Blithers' eyes but he wiped them time and again as he read this amazing letter, this staggering exhibition of prodigality. He swore a little at first, but toward the end even that prerogative failed him. He set out in quest of his wife.
"Would you say that she is vulgar because she refuses to acknowledge a condition that doesn't exist? I think she did perfectly right in denying the engagement." "You haven't answered my question, Mr. Schmidt." "Well," he began slowly, "I don't suspect you of being Miss Blithers." "But you did suspect it." "I was pleasantly engaged in speculation, that's all.
"We can't afford to have him losing his head over a pretty er a nobody, perhaps an adventuress, at this stage of the game. I much prefer the impossible Miss Blithers, Dank, to this captivating unknown. At least we know who and what she is, and what she represents. But we owe it to our country and to Dawsbergen to see that he doesn't do anything er foolish.
"All right," said Mr. Blithers, "Call the cars up, waiter. Still raining?" "Yes, M'sieur. At this season of the year " "Call the cars. Let's have your bill." Pericault's cousins were reluctant to go. In fact, they protested shrilly that it was silly to break up such a successful party at such an unseemly hour. "Never mind," whispered Pericault softly, and winked.
The Baron leaned forward, still tapping the table-top with his long, slim fingers. "The report that Prince Robin is to marry your daughter, Mr. Blithers, has reached his ears. It is only natural that he should feel resentful. For fifteen years there has been an understanding that the Crown Princess of Dawsbergen and the Prince of Graustark were one day to be wedded to each other.
"I can only surmise," said he briefly. "Has has he met some one in whom he feels a er an interest?" "Yes." "May we have the benefit of your conclusions?" said Baron Romano, icily. "I am not at liberty to supply information at present," said the Count, visibly distressed. Mr. Blithers leaned forward, his hands upon the table. "Some one he met after leaving New York?" he inquired eagerly.
Blithers had front seats on the extension porch facing the Platz. He did not know it, but if he had waited for the regular train in Vienna, he would have had the honour of travelling in the same railway carriage with the royal young man.
Blithers also knew, which was more to the point. But, said Baron Gourou, Graustark knew something that neither the world nor Mr. Blithers knew, and that was its own mind. Never, said he, would Maud Applegate be recognised as the Princess of Graustark, not if she lived for a thousand years and married Robin as many times as she had hairs on her head.
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