Picturegoer (Jul-Dec 1937)

PICTUREGOER Weekly THE BRIDE WORE RED-continued to seem eager and felt a proud thrill at hearing Signorina Anne Vivaldi being introduced to an exquisite little, middle-aged lady, Contessa di Meina and her stepdaughter, Signorina Maddelena Monti. The Admiral saved the situation consequent on the pause following the "how d'you do's." "Of course you don't remember an old duffer like me," he said, kissing Anni's hand. "But how wonderfully well you're looking." "I'm much better, thank you. Cured, in fact." "Is this your first visit to Terrano ? " Maddelena inquired. " Yes, my first in many years. When I was a little girl, I came here with my father and Count Armalia, his closest friend." "Of course, I knew I remembered you. I used to dandle you on my knee," the Admiral cried triumphantly. Nevertheless, Anni was glad to be spared further reminiscences by Rudi's asking her — Maddelena having refused his previous offer — to dance. Feeling his cheek close to hers when they had barely taken the floor, seeing the admiration in his eyes, hearing it in his voice, Anni felt as though marriage with this man was not an utter impossibUity. He was rich, he could give her everything she wanted, he could save her from going back to the hated haunt in Trieste. True, he was engaged to Signorina Maddelena, but Anni felt no conscience on that score. What had Maddelena and her world to do but wait in comfort for husbands to turn up? For a fortnight, Anni allowed Rudi to pursue her, even to break away from the party one morning and climb with her above the lake. But though he spoke of loving her, it was clear that she puzzled him. Under the skin she might be the same as any other woman, but socially she wasn't of Rudi's world. The Contessa suspected it and involved Anni in awkwardness on more than one occasion. On the eve of a village festa at which the hotel guests were to appear in native costume, Maria had alarming news. " You know the Contessa's maid, Anni, the one who's always pumping me about you as to why all your clothes are new? She says the Contessa has wired Count Armalia saying would he please tell her who you are and where you come from. Don't you think now your two weeks are up, you ought to get away ? " "Maria, I can't. Rudi's got to propose to me at the Festa. All I need is a little time." She hurried off there and then to the little house on the hill which Guilio had once described as his home, close by the telegraph station. She ran into him coming in the direction of the hotel with a tell-tale telegram thrust through the slit in his cap. She couldn't know the contents as he did, having lately received a characteristic message over the wires from the Count, depicting Anne Vivaldi as a cabaret singer who should by now have left Terrano. But she could suspect the worst and try to keep the no doubt fatal flimsy from being delivered. Taking advantage of the height on which the charming wooden cottage, with its gay flower garden, was perched, she caught her foot in a stone and rolled down the slope. Yet when he bent over her and in the joy of discovery that she was unhurt, kissed her on the mouth, she knew contentment deliberately opposed to that conjured up by the sight of the telegram loosened from its hold, fluttering down the mountain side. "What right have you to love me. You're a postman. I'm a lady," she said and hurried home to prepare for the Festa. Wearing a peasant costume for which the bill had not been paid, aware that the hotel proprietor wanted to know when her suite would be vacant, Anni joined the Contessa's party. " No one but you. Anne, could be the most beautiful lady and the most beautiful peasant," Rudi said. With flowers patterned on her spreading skirts, real flowers making a halo in her hair, she wandered with him through the fairground beneath the coloured lanterns, away from Maddelena, inclined to be satirical and from the Contessa, frankly derisive at Anni's expense. At last, the seclusion of a hillside path was reached and she heard the words for which she had waited. " I love you, Anne." "But you're going to marry Maddelena." " Yes . . . but should that be a problem to us ? " Hot anger choiring her, she blazed at him with all the uncontrolled rage of her origin. "Marry Maddelena and let my love haunt you," she cried. " I'd like you to lie awake at night and be sick with pain. I'd like you to ache for me. I want never to see you again." " You can't leave me, Anne." "You can't hold me." " As my wife you'd stay." "Careful, Rudi. I might think you meant that." "I've never meant anything in my life before." " But what about Maddelena? " "She'll have to understand. I'll tell her, not to-night . . . tomorrow." They wound their way back to the lights and the dancing couples. By a rustic gate they met Guilio. He was wearing flower-embroidered trousers, a braided jacket and a fine feather in his Tyrolean hat. His face was Anne took Maddelena's hand. " Don't feel sorry, because it is true. You ought to hate me, but you won't because you're a lady — the finest I've ever known." flushed, his eyes bright. Had he been drinking, Anni wondered. Half an hour ago, while walking through the fair with Rudi and Maddelena, Guilio had offered Anni a piece of edelweiss from some almost inaccessible mountain top, and she had refused. Now he was asking her for a dance. "Certainly not," Anni riposted, but Rudi added: "Do, darling. Guilio's harmless. I'd trust you with him anywhere; besides, I shall have to bowl at coconut shies with the Contessa and buy dolls for Maddelena and keep the Admiral from feeling the cold. I'll find you later." "Where can we talk, Guilio?" Anni entreated. "Do you remember the day I came to your little house," she hurried on when they had found a rose arbour. " I came to you because of a telegram I wanted to keep from being delivered to the Contessa." " Yes, I knew what was in it, and it's never been delivered. Anni, marry me and let there be no lies between us. You love me ? " "Oh! Guilio, yes. I've never loved anyone as I do now inside of me, before, but I'm going to marry Rudi Pal. We're leaving to-morrow night." " I can't let you. You don't want all the things he stands for. I don't know exactly how it was you came here and tried to be a great lady, Anni, but everything you want in the world is here — the trees, the water, the wind." "But I've never had a chance to have the luxuries of life. I've had a taste and I want more. I've got the chance and I'm taking it. You can't stop me." " I can deliver that telegram." " It blew away." "But every well-organised office keeps copies of its telegrams." " You'd get into trouble. I'd report you. I'll tell the authorities you should have delivered it days ago. Think of your family, your disgrace . . ." I can only think of my love for you. It's stronger than anything in my life so far. It's stronger even than you, Anni, stronger than both of us." The words might smack of melodrama, but spoken as sincerely as they were by Guilio, they had a tormenting quality which completely upset Anni's satisfaction in packing for the wedding journey. Like a child who, having asking for a sweetmeat, is presented with a store full, and detests them, she stared at the frocks which should have delighted her, as if they had been so many dust sheets. Maria, bursting into tears because she didn't recognise her loved Anni of the waterfront bar, in the woman who was marrying for money, brought herself to a fine pitch of hysteria. Anni obliged to calm her, shook off depression. "Here comes the bride," she chanted, "all dressed in — now I know when I can wear my red dress. The bride wore red. That's it." She pulled the gown from its hanger and over her head and studied her reflection in the mirror. On the theatrical side, the crimson, glittering lame might be, but the cape effect with its jewelled clasp was superb. A vigorous brushing of the severe page bob, an adjustment of the glittering snood and she was ready. Maddelena who had released Rudi from his engagement, had agreed to join him and Anni with the Contessa and the Admiral at dinner. Anni shook hands at the (lower-filled table with Maddelena. who had December II, 1937 never looked more lovely in olack velvet of Shakesperean cut, worn with a Juliet cap. Well-wishing passed between them and the meal began. It was perhaps unfortunate that before onion soup had given place to turbot, Guilio's flute should be heard in the distance. "He sounds sad," Rudi commented. "After all, every night isn't Festa night. Now he's getting nearer." " He shouldn't be allowed on the hotel grounds," Anne said vehemently. The melody became so unbearable that she started to plead a headache and to leave the table. The Contessa's somewhat satirical, "It does seem such a shame — our last night together," had a tonic effect and Anni stayed. For comfort, she turned to the Admiral, ever gallant for keeping the conversational ball rolling, by asking if he remembered her as a child. He took her cue, but his imagination was not so good as hers and she found herself having to supply such items as "Wore my hair long, and in braids. A well-mannered child, I believe." "A perfect little lady," capped the Admiral. "A perfect little lady," Anni echoed. " You speak of yourself so strangely," the Contessa said in her crystal clear voice. "Almost as one might speak of the dead, or of someone who never lived." A telegram for the Contessa." A bellboy announced. Anni, certain of the mask being stripped from her, kept perfect calm. " Is this true about you ? " the Contessa inquired, showing Maddelena the wire. "You poor darling," Maddelena gasped. Anni took her hand. "Don't feel sorry, because it is true, Signorina. You ought to hate me, but you won't because you're a lady — the finest I've ever known. Too good for Rudi, but then you're in love with him and he wants to marry you. I knew that when he said he wanted to marry me. Good-bye Contessa, you're very high class and smart, but I'm not less smart. Remember that. I missed getting away with Rudi by only a very few minutes. Admiral, will you ever forget how you used to dandle me on your knee ? " Head held high, she achieved her exit. For Maria's presence was reserved the storm of tears which Anni had barely dried before the prop'rietor appeared, declaring that he gave Signorina Vivaldi five minutes to leave. "Where will you go, Anni ? " Maria sobbed. "Back to Trieste. I have my return ticket." " But Guilio loves you. That's what made him deliver the telegram." "He can't want me now, because I want him so terribly." Cloaked entirely in black, she made a sensation as she left the hotel stairs and walked through the crowded lounge to the lobby. The chill night air met her as she passed the gates. Out of the darkness a donkey cart appeared and drew up beside her. " Did I ever tell you the Archduke of Austria rode once in this cart," Guilio asked. "I can take you wherever you want, A even to the stars." Dropping her cloak, she climbed up beside him, helped by the warm pressure of his hand. "All I bring you is this frock," she said, gravely, pointing to her peasant gown, "and even that isn't paid for." "Don't worry." he smiled. "The dressmaker's my cousin."