Nothing would induce her to take Prince Della Robbia's car, even if
it were offered. She rang for a servant, gave a generous present of
money, and said that she had received news calling her away at once. A
carriage must be found quickly.
As it happened, the descendant of the great French family was stationed
at the edge of the olive wood with his little victoria. The weather had
changed since morning. The mistral had begun to blow, and Jacques had
found little to do, for people were keeping indoors. When Mary started,
with one trunk on the front of the little cab, the world was very
different from the happy blue and gold world of the morning. Had she
been on foot, the gale sweeping down from Provence would have blown her
like a rag from the path; and the small but sturdy horse seemed to lean
on a wall of wind as he trotted toward Monte Carlo.
Mary had resolved to beg Rose Winter for a night's shelter. She believed
it might be possible, without betraying the secret, to tell Rose that
something disturbing had happened which had decided her to leave Prince
Della Robbia's house. She felt sure of advice and welcome from the
Winters, and she thought it probable that they would ask her to stop
longer than the night; but she made up her mind in advance not to accept
such an invitation. People who knew that she was visiting Princess Della
Robbia would talk if they saw her in Monte Carlo, especially while Vanno
was away. There had been more than enough gossip already.
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