Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1912-Jan 1913)

74 THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE The newspapers, of course, had gone into every phase of her private life, and had displayed a gallery of her pictures, but her unconscious charm of movement, her rare coloring, and the soft light in her brilliant eyes, had been beyond the limits of print or photography. She stood, barely touching the arm of the ambassador, in a gown of ivory satin, fringed with priceless antique Venetian lace; her corsage — and this was her only ornament — was relieved by a slender bunch of Jacqueminot roses. Diplomats, officers and statesmen crowded around this enchanting, animate emblem of the Russians, the touch and go of whose color, and gentle inclination of neck, seemed to single out the particular worth of each. The sleek form of Gnedich could be seen coming across the ballroom to take his place with the others, who had formed a court of arbitration over the spaces in her dance-card. "I trust that you have saved a dance for your humble countryman ? ' ' he questioned, bowing deeply in Continental manner, and then, as he raised himself, his eyes met Mikailberg's for the fraction of a second. "Yes; two," she smiled, "where I notice that the music is particularly gymnastic. ' ' He made a grimace, and withdrew ; and, as if by signal, the opening strains of the mazurka filled the floor with couples. The group around Anna immediately dissolved, and Mikailberg slowly escorted her to a vacant withdrawingroom, a moment before filled with flushed dancers. Gnedich appeared, escorting a young military officer toward them, a handsome fellow, with rumpled, curly hair and the deep-set, dreamy eyes of a student. "Countess Mikailberg, and Your Excellency, Count Mikailberg," he said, "permit me to introduce to you Captain Porter, of the United States Army, who has just arrived in Washington. ' ' Anna extended her hand, in the American fashion, and the telltale blood crept into her cheeks as she cordially shook the captain's hand. His stare at her for a moment helped to increase her confusion. 1 ' You will pardon a premature compliment,' ' he said, gravely, "but in the past eight years I have had no opportunity to face a young woman without calling upon my reserve courage." "Are young women so scarce in America?" she asked. "No; hardly scarce," he demurred. "I believe they are in the majority. But on the plains — your steppes, you know — the fat squaws from the reservations are boon companions only in fiction." "And in the cities, like New York?" "Ah!" he laughed, "there the war paint is perpetually worn by the ladies, as an evidence of ceaseless hostility." "In such a sad case," said Mikailberg, addressing Anna, "I propose that the captain be permitted to inspect your dance-card." " It is hopelessly filled, ' ' she stated. "It devolves upon me," said Gnedich, suddenly, ' * to relinquish my engagements — if the countess permits — in favor of Captain Porter. My dancing is ridiculous at its best. ' ' Porter thanked his benefactor, with a smile of pure happiness, and quickly initialed her card across the name of Gnedich. The music had ceased, and a glittering Italian secretary of legation crossed the room, determined to seize upon Anna at the opening notes of his dance. An hour afterward, as the strings of viol and balalaeca throbbed sensuous Slavic strains thru the open windows, Captain Porter, with a frightened, contrite face, sat on a lawn bench with Anna, and busied himself nervously with the silver instep buckle of one of her slippers. She had turned her ankle in the ballroom, and had gamely limped thru the dance before apprising him.