VOYAGE OF CONSOLATION

 BOOKS BY MRS. EVERARD COTES (SARA JEANNETTE DUNCAN). 

 UNIFORM EDITION. 

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[Illustration: "Jamais!" (see Page 156. )]

A VOYAGE OF CONSOLATION

(BEING IN THE NATURE OF A SEQUEL TO THE EXPERIENCES OF "AN AMERICAN GIRLIN LONDON")

BY

SARA JEANNETTE DUNCAN (MRS. EVERARD COTES)

AUTHOR OF

A SOCIAL DEPARTURE, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON, A DAUGHTER OF TO-DAY, VERNON's AUNT, THE STORY OF SONNY SAHIB, HIS HONOUR AND A LADY, ETC. 

[Illustration]

_ILLUSTRATED_

NEW YORK

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

1898

Copyright, 1897, 1898, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

 FACING PAGE

 "Jamais!" _Frontispiece_

 Momma was enjoying herself 36

 "I expect you've seen these before" 45

 Breakfast with Dicky Dod 99

 "Are you paid to make faces?" 140

 We followed the monks 169

 Dicky shouted till the skeletons turned to listen 189

 We were sitting in a narrow balcony 194

 "I'm not a crowned head!" 208

 "Do you see?" 256

 Fervent apologies 265

 "Whom _are_ you going to marry?" 322

A VOYAGE OF CONSOLATION. 

CHAPTER I. 

It seems inexcusable to remind the public that one has written a book. Poppa says I ought not to feel that way about it--that he might just aswell be shy about referring to the baking soda that he himselfinvented--but I do, and it is with every apology that I mention it. Ionce had such a good time in England that I printed my experiences, andat the very end of the volume it seemed necessary to admit that I wasengaged to Mr. Arthur Greenleaf Page, of Yale College, Connecticut. Iremember thinking this was indiscreet at the time, but I felt compelledto bow to the requirements of fiction. I was my own heroine, and I hadto be disposed of. There seemed to be no alternative. I did not wish tomarry Mr. Mafferton, even for literary purposes, and Peter Corke'ssuggestion, that I should cast myself overboard in mid-ocean at the mereidea of living anywhere out of England for the future, wasautobiographically impossible even if I had felt so inclined. So Icommitted the indiscretion. In order that the world might be assuredthat my heroine married and lived happily ever afterwards, I took itprematurely into my confidence regarding my intention. The thing thatoccurred, as naturally and inevitably as the rain if you leave yourumbrella at home, was that within a fortnight after my return to Chicagomy engagement to Mr. Page terminated; and the even more painfulconsequence is that I feel obliged on that account to refer to it again. 

Even an American man has his lapses into unreasonableness. Arthurespecially encouraged the idea of my going to England on the ground thatit would be so formative. He said that to gaze upon the headsman's blockin the Tower was in itself a liberal education. As we sat together inthe drawing-room--momma and poppa always preferred the sitting-room whenArthur was there--he used to gild all our future with the culture whichI should acquire by actual contact with the hoary traditions of GreatBritain. He advised me earnestly to disembark at Liverpool in areceptive and appreciative, rather than a critical and antagonistic, state of mind, to endeavour to assimilate all that was worthassimilating over there, remembering that this might give me as much asI wanted to do in the time. I remember he expressed himself ratherfinely about the only proper attitude for Americans visiting Englandbeing that of magnanimity, and about the claims of kinship, only onceremoved, to our forbearance and affection. He put me on my guard, so tospeak, about only one thing, and that was spelling. American spelling, he said, had become national, and attachment to it ranked next topatriotism. Such words as "color, " "program, " "center, " had obsoleteEnglish forms which I could only acquire at the sacrifice of myindependence, and the surrender of my birthright to make suchimprovements upon the common language as I thought desirable. And I knowthat I was at some inconvenience to mention "color, " "program, " and"center, " in several of my letters just to assure Mr. Page that myorthography was not in the least likely to be undermined. 

Indeed, I took his advice at every point. I hope I do not presume inasking you to remember that I did. I know I was receptive, even to pennybuns, and sometimes simply wild with appreciation. I found it as easy aspossible to subdue the critical spirit, even in connection with thingswhich I should never care to approve of. I shook hands with LordMafferton without the slightest personal indignation with him for beinga peer, and remember thinking that if he had been a duke I should havehad just the same charity for him. Indeed, I was sorry, and am stillsorry, that during the four months I spent in England I didn't meet asingle duke. This is less surprising than it looks, as they are known tobe very scarce, and at least a quarter of a million Americans visitGreat Britain every year; but I should like to have known one or two. Asit was, four or five knights--knights are very thick--one baronet, LordMafferton, one marquis--but we had no conversation--one colonel ofmilitia, one Lord Mayor, and a Horse Guard, rank unknown, comprise myacquaintance with the aristocracy. A duke or so would have completed theset. And the magnanimity which I would so willingly have stretched toinclude a duke spread itself over other British institutions as amply asArthur could have wished. When I saw things in Hyde Park on Sunday thatI was compelled to find excuses for, I thought of the tyrant's ironheel; and when I was obliged to overlook the superiorities of the titledgreat, I reflected upon the difficulty of walking in iron heels withoutinconveniencing a prostrate population. I should defy anybody to be moremagnanimous than I was. 

As to the claims of kinship, only once removed, to our forbearance andaffection, I never so much as sat out a dance on a staircase with OddiePratte without recognising them. 

It seems almost incredible that Arthur should not have been gratified, but the fact remains that he was not. Anyone could see, after the firsthalf hour, that he was not. During the first half hour it is, of course, impossible to notice anything. We had sunk to the level of generalitieswhen I happened to mention Oddie. 

"He had darker hair than you have, dear, " I said, "and his eyes wereblue. Not sky blue, or china blue, but a kind of sea blue on a cloudyday. He had rather good eyes, " I added reminiscently. 

"Had he?" said Arthur. 

"But your noses, " I went on reassuringly, "were not to be compared witheach other. "

"Oh!" said Arthur. 

"He _was_ so impulsive!" I couldn't help smiling a little at therecollection. "But for that matter they all were. "

"Impulsive?" asked Arthur. 

"Yes. Ridiculously so. They thought as little of proposing as of askingone to dance. "

"Ah!" said Arthur. 

"Of course, I never accepted any of them, even for a moment. But theyhad such a way of taking things for granted. Why one man actuallythought I was engaged to him!"

"Really!" said Arthur. "May I inquire----"

"No, dear, " I replied, "I think not. I couldn't tell anybody aboutit--for his sake. It was all a silly mistake. Some of them, " I addedthoughtfully, "were very stupid. "

"Judging from the specimens that find their way over here, " Arthurremarked, "I should say there was plenty of room in their heads fortheir brains. "

Arthur was sitting on the other side of the fireplace, and by this timehis expression was aggressive. I thought his remark unnecessarilycaustic, but I did not challenge it. 

"_Some_ of them were stupid, " I repeated, "but they were nearly allnice. " And I went on to say that what Chicago people as a whole thoughtabout it I didn't know and I didn't care, but so far as _my_ experiencewent the English were the loveliest nation in the world. 

"A nation like a box of strawberries, " Mr. Page suggested, "all the bigones on top, all the little ones at the bottom. "

"That doesn't matter to us, " I replied cheerfully, "we never get anyfurther than the top. And you'll admit there's a great tendency forlittle ones to shake down. It's only a question of time. They've had somuch time in England. You see the effects of it everywhere. "

"Not at all. By no means. _Our_ little strawberries rise, " he declared. 

"Do they? Dear me, so they do! I suppose the American law of gravity isdifferent. In England they would certainly smile at that. "

Arthur said nothing, but his whole bearing expressed a contempt forpuns. 

"Of course, " I said, "I mean the loveliest nation after Americans. "

I thought he might have taken that for granted. Instead, he lookedincredulous and smiled, in an observing, superior way. 

"Why do you say 'ahfter'?" he asked. His tone was sweetly acidulated. 

"Why do you say 'affter'?" I replied simply. 

"Because, " he answered with quite unnecessary emphasis, "in the part ofthe world I come from everybody says it. Because my mother has broughtme up to say it. "

"Oh, " I said, looking at the lamp, "they say it like that in other partsof the world too. In Yorkshire--and such places. As far as _mothers_ go, I must tell you that momma approves of my pronunciation. She likes itbetter than anything else I have brought back with me--even mytailor-mades--and thinks it wonderful that I should have acquired it inthe time. "

"Don't you think you could remember a little of your good old American?Doesn't it seem to come back to you?"

All the Wicks hate sarcasm, especially from those they love, and Icertainly had not outgrown my fondness for Mr. Page at this time. 

"It all came back to me, my dear Arthur, " I said, "the moment you openedyour lips!"

At that not only Mr. Page's features and his shirt front, but his wholepersonality seemed to stiffen. He sat up and made an outward movement onthe seat of his chair which signified, "My hat and overcoat are in thehall, and if you do not at once retract----"

"Rather than allow anything to issue from them which would imply that Iwas not an American I would keep them closed for ever, " he said. 

"You needn't worry about that, " I observed. "Nothing ever will. But Idon't know why we should _glory_ in talking through our noses. "Involuntarily I played with my engagement ring, slipping it up anddown, as I spoke. 

Arthur rose with an expression of tolerant amusement--entirelyforced--and stood by the fireplace. He stood beside it, with his elbowon the mantelpiece, not in front of it with his legs apart, and Ithought with a pang how much more graceful the American attitude was. 

"Have you come back to tell us that we talk through our noses?" heasked. 

"I don't like being called an Anglomaniac, " I replied, dropping my ringfrom one finger to another. Fortunately I was sitting in a rockingchair--the only one I had not been able to persuade momma to have takenout of the drawing-room. The rock was a considerable relief to mynerves. 

"I knew that the cockneys on the other side were fond of inventingfictions about what they are pleased to call the 'American accent, '"continued Mr. Page, with a scorn which I felt in the very heels of myshoes, "but I confess I thought you too patriotic to be taken in bythem. "

"Taken in by them" was hard to bear, but I thought if I said nothing atthis point we might still have a peaceful evening. So I kept silence. 

"Of course, I speak as a mere product of the American Constitution--acommon unit of the democracy, " he went on, his sentences gathering wrathas he rolled them out, "but if there were such a thing as an Americanaccent, I think I've lived long enough, and patrolled this little Unionof ours extensively enough, to hear it by this time. But it appears tobe necessary to reside four months in England, mixing freely with earlsand countesses, to detect it. "

"Perhaps it is, " I said, and I _may_ have smiled. 

"I should hate to pay the price. "

Mr. Page's tone distinctly expressed that the society of earls andcountesses would be, to him, contaminating. 

Again I made no reply. I wanted the American accent to drop out of theconversation, if possible, but Fate had willed it otherwise. 

"I sai, y'know, awfly hard luck, you're havin' to settle down amongstthese barbarians again, bai Jove!"

I am not quite sure that it's a proper term for use in a book, but bythis time I was _mad_. There was criticism in my voice, and a distinctchill as I said composedly, "You don't do it very well. "

I did not look at him, I looked at the lamp, but there was that in theair which convinced me that we had arrived at a crisis. 

"I suppose not. I'm not a marquis, nor the end man at a minstrel show. I'm only an American, like sixty million other Americans, and thelanguage of Abraham Lincoln is good enough for me. But I suppose I, likethe other sixty million, emit it through my nose!"

"I should be sorry to contradict you, " I said. 

Arthur folded his arms and gathered himself up until he appeared totaper from his stem like a florist's bouquet, and all the upper part ofhim was pink and trembling with emotion. Arthur may one day attaincorpulence; he is already well rounded. 

"I need hardly say, " he said majestically, "that when I did myself thehonour of proposing, I was under the impression that I had a suitablelarynx to offer you. "

"You see I didn't know, " I murmured, and by accident I dropped myengagement ring, which rolled upon the carpet at his feet. He stoopedand picked it up. 

"Shall I take this with me?" he asked, and I said "By all means. "

That was all. 

I gave ten minutes to reflection and to the possibility of Arthur'scoming back and pleading, on his knees, to be allowed to restore thatdefective larynx. Then I went straight upstairs to the telephone andrang up the Central office. When they replied "_Hello_, " I said, in themoderate and concentrated tone which we all use through telephones, "Canyou give me New York?"

Poppa was in New York, and in an emergency poppa and I always turn toone another. There was a delay, during which I listened attentively, with one eye closed--I believe it is the sign of an unbalanced intellectto shut one eye when you use the telephone, but I needn't go intothat--and presently I got New York. In a few minutes more I wasaccommodated with the Fifth Avenue Hotel. 

"Mr. T. P. Wick, of Chicago, " I demanded. 

"_Is his room number Sixty-two?_"

That is the kind of mind which you usually find attached to the New Yorkend of a trans-American telephone. But one does not bandy words across athousand miles of country with a hotel clerk, so I merely responded:

"Very probably. "

There was a pause, and then the still small voice came again. 

"_Mr. Wick is in bed at present. Anything important?_"

I reflected that while I in Chicago was speaking to the hotel clerk athalf-past nine o'clock, the hotel clerk in New York was speaking to meat eleven. This in itself was enough to make our conversationdisjointed. 

"Yes, " I responded, "it is important. Ask Mr. Wick to get out of bed. "

Sufficient time elapsed to enable poppa to put on his clothes and comedown by the elevator, and then I heard:

"_Mr. Wick is now speaking_. "

"Yes, poppa, " I replied, "I guess you are. Your old American accentcomes singing across in a way that no member of your family would evermistake. But you needn't be stiff about it. Sorry to disturb you. "

Poppa and I were often personal in our intercourse. I had not theslightest hesitation in mentioning his American accent. 

"_Hello, Mamie! Don't mention it. What's up? House on fire? Water pipesburst? Strike in the kitchen? Sound the alarm--send for theplumber--raise Gladys's wages and sack Marguerite_. "

"My engagement to Mr. Page is broken. Do you get me? What do yousuggest?"

I heard a whistle, which I cannot express in italics, and then, confidentially:

"_You don't say so! Bad break?_"

"Very, " I responded firmly. 

"_Any details of the disaster available? What?_"

"Not at present, " I replied, for it would have been difficult to sendthem by telephone. 

I could hear poppa considering the matter at the other end. He coughedonce or twice and made some indistinct inquiries of the hotel clerk. Then he called my attention again. 

"_Hello!_" he said. "_On to me? All right. Go abroad. Always done. Paris, Venice, Florence, Rome, and the other places. I'll stand in. Germanic sails Wednesdays. Start by night train to-morrow. Bring momma. We can get Germanic in good shape and ten minutes to spare. Right?_"

"Right, " I responded, and hung up the handle. I did not wish to keeppoppa out of bed any longer than was necessary, he was already up somuch later than I was. I turned away from the instrument to go downstairs again, and there, immediately behind me, stood momma. 

"Well, really!" I exclaimed. It did not occur to me that the privacy oftelephonic communication between Chicago and New York was notinviolable. Besides, there are moments when one feels a little annoyedwith one's momma for having so lightly undertaken one's existence. Thiswas one of them. But I decided not to express it. 

"I was only going to say, " I remarked, "that if I had shrieked it wouldhave been your fault. "

"I knew everything, " said momma, "the minute I heard him shut the gate. I came up immediately, and all this time, dear, you've been confiding inus both. My dear daughter. "

Momma carries about with her a well-spring of sentiment, which she didnot bequeath to me. In that respect I take almost entirely after myother parent. 

"Very well, " I said, "then I won't have to do it again. "

Her look of disappointment compelled me to speak with decision. "I knowwhat you would like at this juncture, momma. You'd like me to get downon the floor and put my head in your lap and weep all over your newbrocade. That's what you'd really enjoy. But, under circumstances likethese, I never do things like that. Now the question is, can you getready to start for Europe to-morrow night, or have you a headache comingon?"

Momma said that she expected Mrs. Judge Simmons to tea to-morrowafternoon, that she hadn't been thinking of it, and that she was out ofnerve tincture. At least, these were her principal objections. I said, on mature consideration, I didn't see why Mrs. Simmons shouldn't come totea, that there were twenty-four hours for all necessary thinking, andthat a gallon of nerve tincture, if required, could be at her disposalin ten minutes. 

"Being Protestants, " I added, "I suppose a convent wouldn't be of anyuse to us--what do you think?"

Momma thought she could go. 

There was no need for hurry, and I attended to only one other matterbefore I went to bed. That was a communication to the _Herald_, which Isent off in plenty of time to appear in the morning. It was addressed tothe Society Editor, and ran as follows:

"The marriage arranged between Professor Arthur Greenleaf Page, of YaleUniversity, and Miss Mamie Wick, of 1453, Lakeside-avenue, Chicago, willnot take place. Mr. And Mrs. Wick, and Miss Wick, sail for Europe onWednesday by s. S. Germanic. "

I reflected, as I closed my eyes, that Arthur was a regular reader ofthe _Herald_. 

CHAPTER II. 

We met poppa on the Germanic gangway, his hat on the back of his headand one finger in each of his waistcoat pockets, an attitude which, withhim, always betokens concern. The vessel was at that stage of departurewhen the people who have been turned off are feeling injured that itshould have been done so soon, and apparently only the weight of poppa'spersonality on its New York end kept the gangway out. As we drove up heappeared to lift his little finger and three dishevelled navigatorsdarted upon the cab. They and we and our trunks swept up the gangwaytogether, which immediately closed behind us, under the direction of anextremely irritated looking Chief Officer. We reunited as a family aswell as we could in connection with uncoiled ropes and ship discipline. Then poppa, with his watch in his hand, exclaimed reproachfully, well inhearing of the Chief Officer, "I gave you ten minutes and you _had_ tenminutes. You stopped at Huyler's for candy, I'll lay my last depreciateddollar on it. "

My other parent looked guiltily at some oblong boxes tied up in whitepaper with narrow red ribbon, which, innocently enough I consider, enhance the value of life to us both. But she ignored the charge--mommahates arguments. 

"Dear me!" she said, as the space widened between us and the docks. "Sowe are all going to Europe together this morning! I can hardly realiseit. Farewell America! How interesting life is. "

"Yes, " replied poppa. "And now I guess I'd better show you your cabinsbefore it gets any more interesting. "

We had a calm evening, though nothing would induce momma to think so, and at ten o'clock Senator J. P. Wick and I were still pacing the decktalking business. The moon rose, and threw Arthur's shadow across ourconversation, but we looked at it with precision and it moved away. Thatis one of poppa's most comforting characteristics, he would as soon openhis bosom to a shot-gun as to a confidence. He asked for details throughthe telephone merely for bravado. As a matter of fact, if I had begun tosend them he would have rung off the connection and said it was anaccident. We dipped into politics, and I told the Senator that while Iconsidered his speech on the Silver Compromise a credit to the family onthe whole, I thought he had let himself out somewhat unnecessarily atthe expense of the British nation. 

"We are always twisting a tail, " I said reproachfully, "that doesnothing but wag at us. "

This poppa reluctantly admitted with the usual reference to the Irishvote. We both hoped sincerely that any English friends who saw thatspeech, and paused to realise that the orator was a parent of mine, would consider the number of Irish resident in Illinois, and the amountof invective which their feelings require. Poppa doesn't really knowsometimes whether he is himself or a shillelagh, but whatever histemporary political capacity he is never ungrateful. He went on to giveme the particulars of his interview with the President about the ChicagoPost Office, and then I gradually unfolded my intention of preparing ourforeign experiences as a family for publication in book form. While Iwas unfolding it poppa eyed me askance. 

"Is that usual?" he inquired. 

"Very usual indeed, " I replied. 

"I mean--under the circumstances?"

"Under what circumstances?" I demanded boldly. I knew that nothing wouldinduce him to specify them. 

"Oh, I only meant--it wasn't exactly my idea. "

"What was your idea--exactly?" It was mean of me to put poppa to theblush, but I had to define the situation. 

"Oh, " said he, with unlooked-for heroism, "I was basing my calculationswith reference to you on the distractions of change--Paris dry-goods, rowing round Venice in gondolas, riding through the St. Gothard tunnel, and the healing hand of time. I don't intend to give a day less than sixweeks to it. I'm looking forward to the tranquilising effect of theantique some myself, " he added, hedging. "I find these new self-risersthat we've undertaken to carry almost more than my temperament canstand. They went up from an output of five hundred dollars to sixhundred and fifty thousand, and back again inside seven days last month. I'm looking forward to examining something that hasn't moved for acouple of thousand years with considerable pleasure. "

"Poppa, " said I, ignoring the self-risers, "if you were as particularabout the quality of your fiction as you are about the quality of yourtable-butter, you would know that the best heroines never have recourseto such measures now. They are simply obsolete. Except for my literaryintention, I should be ashamed to go to Europe at all--under thecircumstances. But that, you see, brings the situation up to date. Itransmit my European impressions through the prism of damaged affection. Nothing could be more modern. "

"I see, " replied poppa, rubbing his chin searchingly, which is hismanner of expressing sagacious doubt. His beard descends from the lowerpart of his chin in the long unfettered American manner, without whichit is impossible for _Punch_ to indicate a citizen of the United States. When he positively disapproves he pulls it severely. 

"But Europe's been done before, you know, " he continued. "In fact, Idon't know any continent more popular than Europe with people that wantto publish books of travel. It's been done before. "

"Never, " I rejoined, "in connection with you, poppa!"

Poppa removed his hand from his chin. 

"Oh, if I'm to assist, that's quite another anecdote, " he said briskly. "I didn't understand you intended to ring me in. Of course, I don't meanto imply there is any special prejudice against books of travel inEurope. About how many pages did you think of running it to?"

"My idea was three hundred, " I replied. 

"And how many words to a page?"

"Two hundred and fifty--more or less. "

"That's seventy-five thousand words! Pretty big undertaking, if you lookat it in bulk. "

"We shall have to rely upon momma, " I remarked. 

Poppa's expression disparaged the idea, and he began to feel round forhis beard. 

"If I were you, " he said, "I wouldn't place much dependence on momma. She'll be able to give you a few hints on sunsets and a pointer or twoabout the various Venuses, likely--she's had photographs of several ofthem in the house for years--but I expect it's going to be a question ofhistorical fact pretty often, and momma won't be in it. Not that I wantto choke momma off, " he continued, "but she will necessitate a wholereference library. And in some parts of Europe I believe they charge youfor every pound of luggage, including your lunch, if you don't happen tohave concealed it in your person. "

"We'll have to pin her down to the guide-books, " I remarked. 

"That depends. I've always understood that the guide-book market waslargely controlled by Mr. Murray and Mr. Baedeker. Also, that Mr. Murraywrites in a vein of pretty lofty sentiment, while Mr. Baedeker is aboutas interesting as a directory. Now where the right emotion is includedat the price I don't see the use of momma, but when it's a question ofBaedeker we might turn her on. See?"

"Poppa, " I replied with emotion, "you will both be invaluable. I willbid you good-night. I believe the electric light burns all night long inthe smoking-cabin, but that is not supposed to indicate that gentlemenare expected to stay there till dawn. I see you have two Havanas left. That will be quite enough for one evening. Good-night, poppa. "

CHAPTER III. 

All the way across momma implored me to become reconciled to Arthur. Inextreme moments, when it was very choppy, she composed telegrams onlines which were to drive him wild with contrition without compromisingmy dignity; and when I suggested the difficulty of tampering with theAtlantic cable in mid-ocean without a diving machine, she wept, hintingthat, if I were a true daughter of hers, things would never have come tosuch a pass. My position, from a filial point of view, was most trying. I could not deny my responsibility for momma's woes--she never left hercabin--yet I was powerless to put an end to them. Young women in novelshave thrown themselves into the arms of the wrong man under far lessparental pressure, but although it was indeed the hour the man was notavailable. Neither, such was the irony of circumstances, would ourimmediate union have affected the motion in the slightest degree. Butalthough I presented these considerations to momma many times a day, sheadhered so persistently to the idea of promoting a happy reunion that Iwas obliged to keep a very careful eye on the possibility ofsurreptitious messages from Liverpool. Once on dry land, however, mommasaw her duty in another light. I might say that she swallowed herprinciples with the first meal she really enjoyed, after which sheexpressed her conviction that it was best to let the dead past bury itsdead, so long as the obsequies did not necessitate her immediate returnto America. 

I was looking forward immensely to observing the Senator in London, remembering the effect it had upon my own imagination, but on ourarrival he conducted himself in a manner which can only be described asnon-committal. He went about with his hands in his pockets, smokinglarge cigars with an air of reserved criticism that vastly impressed thewaiters, acquiescing in strawberry jam for breakfast, for example, in amanner which said that, although this might be to him a new and complexcustom, he was acquainted with Chicago ones much more recondite. His airwas superior, but modestly so, and if he said nothing you would neversuppose it was because he had nothing to say. He meant to give GreatBritain a chance before he pronounced anything distinctly unfavourableeven to her steaks, and in the meantime to remember what an up-to-dateAmerican owes to his country's reputation in the hotels of a foreigntown. 

He was very much at his ease, and I saw him looking at a couple of justintroduced Englishmen embarking in conversation, as if he wondered whatcould possibly be the matter with them. I am sorry that I can't say asmuch for my other parent, but before monarchical institutions mommaweakened. She had moments of terrible indecision as to how to do herhair, and I am certain it was not a matter of indifference to her thatshe should make a good impression upon the head butler. Also, shehesitated about examining the mounted Guardsman on duty at Whitehall, preferring to walk past with a casual glance, as if she were accustomedto see things quite as wonderful every day at home, whereas nothing toapproach it has ever existed in America, except in the imagination ofMr. Barnum, and he is dead. And shopwalkers patronised her. Icongratulated myself sometimes that I was there to assert her dignity. 

I must be permitted to generalise in this way about our Londonexperiences because they only lasted a day and a half, and it isimpossible to get many particulars into that space. It was really a pitywe had so little time. Nothing would have been more interesting than tobring momma into contact with the Poets' Corner, or introduce poppa tothe House of Lords, and watch the effect. I am sure, from what I know ofmy parents, that the effect would have been crisp. But we decided thatsix weeks was not too much to give to the Continent, also that anopportunity, six weeks long, of absorbing Europe is not likely to occurtwice in the average American lifetime. We stayed over two or threetrains in London, however, just long enough to get in a background, asit were, for our Continental experiences. The weather was typical, andthe background, from an artistic point of view, was perfect. While notprecisely opaque, you couldn't see through it anywhere. 

When it became a question of how we were to put in the time, it seemedto momma as if she would rather lie down than anything. 

"You and your father, dear, " she said, "might drive to St. Paul's, whenit stops raining. Have a good look at the dome and try to bring me backthe sound of the echo. It is said to be very weird. See that poppadoesn't forget to take off his hat in the body of the church, but hemight put it on in the Whispering Gallery, where it is sure to bedraughty. And remember that the funeral coach of the Duke of Wellingtonis down in the crypt, darling. You might bring me an impression of that. I think I'll have a cup of chocolate and try to get a little sleep. "

"Is it, " asked poppa, "the coach which the Duke sent to represent him atthe other people's funerals, or the one in which he attended his own?"

"You can look that up, " momma replied; "but my belief is that it waspresented to the Duke by a grateful nation after his demise. In whichcase he couldn't possibly have used it more than once. "

I looked at momma reprovingly, but, seeing that she had no suspicion ofbeing humorous, I said nothing. The Senator pushed out his under lip andpulled his beard. 

"I don't know about St. Paul's, " he said; "wouldn't any otherimpression do as well, momma? It doesn't seem to be just the weather forcrypts, and I don't suppose the hearse of a military man is going tomake the surroundings any more cheerful. Now, my idea is that when timeis limited you've got to let some things go. I'd let the historical goevery time. I'd let the instructive go--we can't drag around an idea ofthe British Museum, for instance. I'd let ancient associationsgo--unless you're particularly interested in the parties associated. "

I thought of the morning I once spent picking up details, traditions, and remains of Dr. Johnson in various parts of the West Centraldistrict, and privately sympathised with this view, though I feltcompelled to look severe. Momma, who was now lying down, dissented. What, then, she demanded, had we crossed the ocean for?

"Rather, " said she, "where time is limited let us spread ourselves, soto speak, over the area of culture available. This morning, for example, you, husband, might ramble round the Tower and try to picture thevarious tragedies that have been enacted there. You, daughter, might goand bring us those impressions from St. Paul's, while I will contentmyself with observing the manners of the British chambermaid. So far, Imust say, I think they are lovely. Thus, each doing what he can and shecan, we shall take back with us, as a family, more real benefit than wecould possibly obtain if we all derived it from the same source. "

"No, " said poppa firmly. "I take exception to your theory right there, Augusta. Culture is a very harmless thing, and there's no reason why youshouldn't take it in, till your back gives out, every day we're here. But I consider that we've got the article in very good shape in ourlittle town over there in Illinois, and personally I don't propose to gonosing round after it in Europe. And as a family man I should hate to bedivided up for any such purpose. "

"Oh, if you're going to steel yourself against it, my love----"

"Now, what Bramley said to me the day before we sailed was this--No, I'mnot steeling myself against it; my every pore is open to it--Bramleysaid: 'Your time is limited, you can't see everything. Very well. Seethe unique. Keep that in mind, ' he said; 'the unique. And you'll besurprised to find how very little there is in the world, outsideChicago, that is unique. '"

"Applying that rule, " continued the Senator, strolling up and down, "thethings to see in London are the Crystal Palace and the Albert Memorial. Especially the Albert Memorial. That was a man who played second fiddleto his wife, and enjoyed it, all his life long; and there he sits inHyde Park to-day, I understand, still receiving the respectful homage ofthe nation--the only case on record. "

"Westminster Abbey would be much better _for_ you, " said momma. 

"Don't you think, " I put in, "that if momma is to get any sleep----"

"Certainly. Now, another thing that Bramley said was, 'Look here, ' hesaid, 'remember the Unattainable Elsewhere--and get it. You're likely tobe in London. Now the Unattainable Elsewhere, for that town, isgentlemen's suitings. For style, price, and quality of goods the Londontailor leads the known universe. Wick, ' he said--he was terribly inearnest--'if you have _one hour_ in London, leave your measure!'"

"In that case, " said momma, sitting up and ascertaining the condition ofher hair, "you would like me to be with you, love. "

Now, if momma doesn't like poppa's clothes, she always gives them awaywithout telling him. This would be thought arbitrary in England, and Ihave certainly known the Senator suddenly reduced to great destitutionthrough it, but America is a free country, and there is no law to compelus to see our male relations unbecomingly clad against our will. 

"Well, to tell the truth, Augusta, " said poppa, "I would. I'd like toget this measure through by a unanimous vote. It will save complicationsafterwards. But are you sure you wouldn't rather lie down?"

Momma replied to the effect that she wouldn't mind his going anywhereelse alone, but this was important. She put her gloves on as she spoke, and her manner expressed that she was equal to any personal sacrificefor the end in view. 

Colonel Bramley had given the Senator a sartorial address of repute, and presently the hansom drew up before it, in Piccadilly. We went aboutas a family in one hansom for sociability. 

"Look here, driver, " said poppa through the roof, "have we got there?"

The cabman, in a dramatic and resentful manner, pointed out the numberwith his whip. 

"There's the address as was given to _me_, sir. "

"Well, there's nothing to get mad about, " said poppa sternly. "I'mlooking for Marcus Trippit, tailor and outfitter. "

"It's all right, sir. All on the brass plite on the door, sir. I can seeit puffickly from 'ere. "

The cabman seemed appeased, but his tone was still remonstrative. 

We all looked at the door with the brass plate. It was flanked on oneside by the offices of a house agent, on the other by a superior lookingrestaurant. 

"There isn't the sign of a tailor about the premises, " said poppa, "except his name. I don't like the look of that. "

"Perhaps, " suggested momma, "it's his private address. "

"Well, I guess we don't want to call on Marcus, especially as we've gotno proper introduction. Driver, that isn't Mr. Trippit's place ofbusiness. It's his home. "

We all craned up at the hole in the roof at once, like young birds, andwe all distinctly saw the driver smile. 

"No, sir, I don't think 'e'd put it up like that that 'e was a tyler, not on 'is privit residence, sir. I think you'll find the businesspremises on the fust or second floor, likely. "

"Where's his window?" the Senator demanded. "Where's his display? No, Idon't think Marcus will do for me. I'm not confiding enough. Now, _you_don't happen to be able to recommend a tailor, do you?"

"Yes, sir, I can take you to a gentleman that'll turn you out as'andsome as need be. Out 'Ampstead way, '_e_ is. "

The Senator smiled. "About a three-and-sixpenny fare, eh?" he said. 

"Yes, sir, all of that. "

"I thought so. I don't mind the three and sixpence. You can't do muchdriving where I come from under a dollar; but we've only got abouttwenty-four hours for the British capital altogether, and I can't sparethe time. "

"Suppose he drives along slowly, " suggested momma. 

"Just so. Drive along slowly until you come to a tailor that has a shop, do you see? And a good-sized window, with waxwork figures in it to showoff the goods. Then let me hear from you again. "

The man's expression changed to one of cheerfulness and benignity. "Right you are, sir, " he said, and shut down the door in a manner thatsuggested entire appreciation of the circumstances. 

"I think we can trust him, " said poppa. Inside, therefore, we gaveourselves up to enjoyment of what momma called the varied panoramaaround us; while, outside, the cabman passed in critical review half thegentleman's outfitters in London. It was momma who finally brought himto a halt, and the establishment which inspired her with confidence andemulation was inscribed in neat, white enamelled letters, _CourtTailors_. 

As we entered, a person of serious appearance came forward from therear, by no means eagerly or inquiringly, but with a grave step and agreat deal of deportment. I fancy he looked at momma and me with slightsurprise; then, with his hands calmly folded and his head a little onone side, he gave his attention to the Senator. But it was momma whobroke the silence. 

"We wish, " said momma, "to look at gentlemen's suitings. "

"Yes, madam, certainly. Is it for--for----" He hesitated in theembarrassed way only affected in the very best class of establishments, and I felt at ease at once as to the probable result. 

"For this gentleman, " said momma, with a wave of her hand. 

The Senator, being indicated, acknowledged it. "Yes, " he said, "I'm yoursubject. But there's just one thing I want to say. I haven't got any usefor a Court suit, because where I live we haven't got any use forCourts. My idea would be something aristocratic in quality butdemocratic in cut--the sort of thing you would make up for a member ofMr. Gladstone's family. Do I make myself clear?"

"Certainly, sir. Ordinary morning dress, sir, or is it evening dress, orboth? Will you kindly step this way, sir?"

"We will all step this way, " said momma. 

"It would be a morning coat and waistcoat then, sir, would it not? Andtrousers of a different--somewhat lighter----"

"Well, no, " the Senator replied. "Something I could wear around prettymuch all day. "

My calm regard forbade the gentleman's outfitter to smile, even in theback of his head. 

"I think I understand, sir. Now, here is something that is being a gooddeal worn just now. Beautiful finish. "

"Nothing brownish, thank you, " said momma, with decision. 

"No, madam? Then perhaps you would prefer this, sir. More on the irongray, sir. "

"That would certainly be more becoming, " said momma. "And I like thatinvisible line. But it's rather too woolly. I'm afraid it wouldn't keepits appearance. What do you think, Mamie?"

"Oh, there's no _wool_liness, madam. " The gentleman's outfitter's toneimplied that wool was the last thing he would care to have anything todo with. "It's the nap. And as to the appearance of these goods"--hesmiled slightly--"well, we put our reputation on them, that's all. Ican't say more than that. But I have the same thing in a smooth finish, if you would prefer it. "

"I think I would prefer it. Wouldn't you, Mamie?"

The man brought the same thing in a smooth finish, and lookedinterrogatively at poppa. 

"Oh, I prefer it, too, " said he, with a profound assumption ofintelligent interest. "Were you thinking of having the pants made of thesame material, Augusta?"

The gentleman's outfitter suddenly turned his back, and stood thus foran instant struggling with something like a spasm. Knowing that ifthere's one thing in the world momma hates it's the exhibition ofpoppa's sense of humour, I walked to the door. When I came back theywere measuring the Senator. 

"Will you have the American shoulder, sir? Most of our customers preferit. "

"Well, no. The English shoulder would be more of a novelty on me. Yousee I come from the United States myself. "

"Do you indeed, sir?"

The manners of some tailors might be emulated in England. 

"Tails are a little longer than they were, sir, and waistcoats cut atrifle higher. Not more than half an inch in both cases, sir, but itdoes make a difference. Now, with reference to the coat, sir; will youhave it finished with braid or not? Silk braid, of course, sir. "

"Augusta?" demanded the Senator. 

"Is braid _de nouveau_?" asked momma. 

"Not precisely, madam, but the Prince certainly has worn it this seasonwhile he didn't last. "

"Do you refer to Wales?" asked poppa. 

"Yes, sir. He's very generally mentioned simply as 'The Prince. ' HisRoyal Highness is very conservative, so to speak, about such things, sowhen he takes up a style we generally count on its lasting at leastthrough one season. I can assure you, sir, the Prince has appeared inbraid. You needn't be afraid to order it. "

"I think, " put in momma, "that braid would make a very neat finish, love. "

Poppa walked slowly towards the door, considering the matter. With hishand on the knob he turned round. 

"No, " he said, "I don't think that's reason enough for me. We're bothmen in public positions, but I've got nothing in common with Wales. I'llhave a plain hem. "

CHAPTER IV. 

"If there's one thing I hate, " said Senator Wick several times in thediscussion of our plans, "it's to see a citizen of the United Statesgoing round advertising himself. If you analyse it, it's a mean thing todo, for it's no more a virtue to be born American than a fault to beborn anything else. I'm proud of my nationality and my income is asource of satisfaction to me, but I don't intend to brandish either ofthem in the face of Europe. "

It was this principle that had induced poppa to buy tourist ticketssecond class by rail, first class by steamer, all through, like ordinaryEnglish people on eight or nine hundred a year. Momma and I thought itrather noble of him and resolved to live up to it if possible, but whenhe brought forth a large packet of hotel coupons, guaranteed to produceeverything, including the deepest respect of the proprietors, at tenshillings and sixpence a day apiece, we thought he was making anunnecessary sacrifice to the feelings of the non-American travellingpublic. 

"Two dollars and a half a day!" momma ejaculated. "Were there no moreexpensive ones?"

"If there had been, " poppa confessed, "I would have taken them. Butthese were the best they had. And I understand it's a popular, sensibleway of travelling. I told the young man that the one thing we wished toavoid was ostentation, and he said that these coupons would be acomplete protection. "

"There must be _some_ way of paying more, " said momma pathetically, looking at the paper books of tickets, held together by a quantity oflittle holes. "Do they actually include everything?"

"Even wine, I understand, where it is the custom of the hotel to provideit without extra charge, and in Switzerland honey with your breakfast, "the Senator responded firmly. "I never made a more interesting purchase. There before us lie our beds, breakfasts, luncheons, dinners, lights, and attendance for the next six weeks. "

"It is full of the most dramatic possibilities, " I remarked, looking atthe packet. 

"It seems to me a kind of attempt to coerce Providence, " said momma, "asmuch as to say, 'Whatever happens to the world, I am determined to havemy bed, breakfast, luncheon, dinner, lights, and attendance for sixweeks to come. ' Is it not presumptuous?"

"It's very reasonable, " said the Senator, "and that's the principalthing you've got against it, Augusta. It's remarkably, pictoriallycheap. " The Senator put the little books in their detachable cover, snapped the elastic round them and restored the whole to his insidepocket. 

"You might almost say enjoyably cheap, if you know what I mean. Theinexpensiveness of Europe, " he continued, "is going to be a great charmfor me. I intend to revel in it. "

I am always discovering points about poppa the existence of which I hadnot suspected. His appreciation of the joy of small prices had beenconcealed in him up to this date, and I congratulated him warmly uponits appearance. I believe it is inherent in primitive tribes and in allEnglishmen, but protective tariffs and other influences are rapidlyeradicating it in Americans, who should be condoled with on this point, more than they usually are. 

We were on our way to Paris after a miraculous escape of the Channel. Socalm it was that we had almost held our breaths in our anxiety lest thewind should rise before we got over. Dieppe lay behind us, and momma atthe window declared that she could hardly believe she was looking out atNormandy. Momma at the window was enjoying herself immensely in themidst of Liberty silk travelling cushions, supported by hersmelling-bottle, and engaged apparently in the realisation oflong-cherished dreams. 

"There they are in a row!" she exclaimed. "How lovely to see themstanding up in that stiff, unnatural way just as they do in thepictures. "

Poppa and I rushed raptly to the window, but discovered nothingremarkable. 

"To see what, Augusta?" demanded he. 

"The Normandy poplars, love. Aren't you awfully disappointed in them?I am. So wooden!"

[Illustration: Momma was enjoying herself. ]

Poppa said he didn't know that he had been relying much on the poplarfeature of the scenery, and returned to his weary search for Americantelegrams in a London daily paper. 

"Dear me, " momma ejaculated, "I _never_ supposed I should see them doingit! And right along the line of the railway, too!"

"See them doing it!" I repeated, searching the landscape. 

"The women working in the fields, darling love. Garnering the grain, allin that nice moderate shade of blue-electric, shouldn't you call it?There--there's another! No, you can't see her now. France _is_fascinating!"

Poppa abruptly folded the newspaper. "I've learnt a great deal more thanI wanted to know about Madagascar, " said he, "and I understand thatthere's a likelihood of the London voter being called to arms to preventHigh Church trustees introducing candles and incense into the openingexercises of the public schools. I've read eleven different accounts ofa battle in Korea, and an article on the fauna and flora of Beluchistan, very well written. And I see it's stated, on good authority, that theQueen drove out yesterday accompanied by the Princess Beatrice. I don'tknow that I ever got more information for two cents in my life. But fornews--Great Scott! I _know_ more news than there is in that paper! Theeditor ought to be invited to come over and discover America. "

"Here's something about America, " I protested, "from Chicago, too. Awhole column--'Movements of Cereals. '"

"Yes, and look at that for a nice attractive headline, " responded theSenator with sarcasm. "'Movements of Cereals!' Gives you a great idea ofpace, doesn't it? Why couldn't they have called it 'Grain on the Go'?"

"Did Mr. McConnell get in for Mayor, or Jimmy Fagan?" I inquired, looking down the column. 

"They don't seem to have asked anybody. "

"And who got the Post Office?"

"Not there, not there, my child!"

"Oh!" said momma at the window, "these little gray-stone villages aretoo sweet for words. Why talk of Chicago? Mr. McConnell and Mr. Faganare all very well at home, but now that the ocean heaves between us, andyour political campaign is over, may we not forget them?"

"Forget Mike McConnell and Jimmy Fagan!" replied the Senator, regardinga passing church spire with an absent smile. "Well, no, Augusta; as faras I'm concerned I'm afraid it couldn't be done--at all permanently. There's too much involved. But I see what you mean about turning themind out to pasture when the grazing is interesting--getting in a cud, so to speak, for reflection afterwards. I see your idea. "

The Senator is always business-like. He immediately addressed himselfthrough the other window to the appreciation of the scenery, and I felt, as I took out my note-book to record one or two impressions, that hewould do it justice. 

"No, momma, " I was immediately compelled to exclaim, "you mustn't lookover my shoulder. It is paralysing to the imagination. "

"Then I won't, dear. But oh, if you could only describe it as it is! Theruined chateaux, tree-embosomed----" Momma paused. 

"The gray church spires, from which at eventide the Angelus comespealing--or stealing, " she continued. "Perhaps 'stealing' is better. "

"Above all the poplars--the poplars are very characteristic, dear. Andthe women toilers in the sunset fields garnering up the golden grain. You might exclaim, 'Why are they always in blue?' Have you got thatdown?"

"They were making hay, " poppa corrected. "But I suppose the public won'tknow the difference, any more than you did. "

Momma leaned forward, clasping her smelling-bottle, and looked out ofthe window with a smile of exaltation. 

"The cows, " she went on, "the proud-legged Norman cows standingknee-deep in the quiet pools. Have you got the cows down, dear?"

The Senator, at the other window, looked across disparagingly, hard atwork on his beard. He said nothing, but after a time abruptly thrust hishands in his pockets, and his feet out in front of him in a manner whichexpressed absolute dissent. When momma said she thought she would try toget a little sleep he looked round observantly, and as soon as herslumber was sound and comfortable he beckoned to me. 

"See here, " he said, not unkindly, argumentatively. "About those cows. In fact, about all these pointers your mother's been giving you. They'reall very nice and poetic--I don't want to run down momma's ideas--butthey don't strike me as original. I won't say I could put my finger onit, but I'm perfectly certain I've heard of the poplars and the womenfield labourers of Normandy somewhere before. She doesn't do it onpurpose"--the Senator inclined his head with deprecation toward thesleeping form opposite, and lowered his voice--"and I don't know thatI'd mention it to you under any other circumstances, but momma's afearful plagiarist. She doesn't hesitate anywhere. I've known her do itto William Shakespeare and the Book of Job, let alone modern authors. Indealing with her suggestions you want to be very careful. Otherwisemomma'll get you into trouble. "

I nodded with affectionate consideration. "I'll make a note of what yousay, Senator, " I replied, and immediately, from motives of delicacy, wechanged the subject. As we talked, poppa told me in confidence how muchhe expected of the democratic idea in Paris. He said that even theshort time we had spent in England was enough to enable him to detectthe subserviency of the lower classes there and to resent it, as a manand a brother. He spoke sadly and somewhat bitterly of the manners ofthe brother man who shaved him, which he found unjustifiably affable, and of the inexcusable abasement of a British railway porter if you gavehim a shilling. He said he was glad to leave England, it wasdemoralising to live there; you lost your sense of the dignity oflabour, and in the course of time you were almost bound to degenerateinto a swell. He expressed a good deal of sympathy with the aristocracyon this account, concentrating his indignation upon those who, as itwere, made aristocrats of innocent human beings against their will. Itwas more than he would have ventured to say in public, but in talking tome poppa often mentions what a comfort it is to be his own mouthpiece. 

"The best thing about these tourists' tickets is, " said the Senator aswe approached Paris, "that they entitle you to the use of aninterpreter. He is said to be found on all station platforms ofimportance, and I presume he's standing there waiting for us now. I takeit we're at liberty to tap his knowledge of the language in any momentof difficulty just as if it were our own. "

Ten minutes later the carriage doors were opening upon Paris, and theSenator's eagle eye was searching the crowded platform for thisofficial. Our vague idea was that the interpreter would be a conspicuousand permanent object like a nickle-in-the-slot machine, automaticallyarranged to open his arms to tourists presenting the right tickets, andemit conversation. When we finally detected him, by his cap, he wasshifting uneasily in the midst of a crowd of inquirers. His face waspale, his beard pointed, his expression that of a person constantlyinterrupted in many languages. The crowd was parting to permit him toescape, when we filled up the available avenue and confronted him. 

"Are you the linguist that goes with our tickets?" asked the Senator. 

"I am ze interpretare yes, but weez ze tickets I go not, no. All-ways Istay here in zis place, nowheres I go. " He stood at bay, so to speak, frowning fiercely as he replied, and then made another bolt for liberty, but poppa laid a compelling hand upon his arm. 

"If it's all the same to you, " said poppa, firmly, "I've got ladies withme, and----"

"Yes certainly you get presently your tronks. You see zat door besidemany people? Immediately it open you go and show ze customs man. You gotno duty thing, it is all right. You call one fiacre--carriage--and go atyour hotel. "

"Oh, " exclaimed momma, "is there any charge on nerve tincture, please?It's _entirely_ for my personal use. "

"It's _only_ on cigars and eau-de-Cologne, isn't it?" I entreated. 

"Which door did you say?" asked the Senator. "I'd be obliged if youwould speak more slowly. There's no cause for excitement. From here Ican see fourteen doors, and I saw our luggage go in by _this_ door. "

"You don't believe wat I say! Very well! All ze same it is zat doorbeside all ze people wat want zere tronks!"

"All right, " said the Senator pacifically. "How you do boil over! I tellyou one thing, my friend, " he added, as the interpreter washed his handsof us, "you may be a necessity to the travelling public, but you're nota luxury, in any sense of the word. "

CHAPTER V. 

The Senator, discovering to his surprise that the hotel clerk was alady, lifted his hat. He did not appear to be surprised, that wasn't theSenator's way, but he forgot what he had to say, which proved it. Whilehe was hesitating she looked at him humorously and said "Good evening, sir!" She was a florid person who wore this sense of humour between hardblue eyes and an iron jaw. Momma took a passionate dislike to her on thespot. 

"Oh, then you do, " said poppa. "You parlay Anglay. That's a good thingI'm sure, for I know mighty little Fransay. May I ask what sort ofaccommodation you can give Mrs. Wick, Miss Wick, and myself forto-night? Anything on the first floor?"

"What rooms you require are one double one single, yes? Certainly. Francois, _trente-cinq et trente-huit_. " She handed Francois the keysand her sense of humour disappeared in a smile which told poppa that hemight, if he liked, consider her a fine woman. He, wishing doubtless tobask in it to the fullest extent, produced his book of tickets. 

"I expect you've seen these before, " he said, apparently for thepleasure of continuing the conversation. 

[Illustration: "I expect you've seen these before. "]

As her eye fell upon them a look of startled cynicism suddenly replacedthe smile. Her cynicism was paradoxical, she was so large, and sound andwholesome, and the more irritating on this account. 

"You 'ave the coupons!" she exclaimed. "Ah-a-ah!" in a crescendo ofastonishment at our duplicity. "Then I 'ave made one mistake. Francois!Those first floor rooms they are already taken. But on the third floorare two good beautiful rooms. There is also the lift--you can use thelift. "

"I can't dispute with a lady, " said poppa, "but that is singular. Ishould prefer those first floor rooms which were not taken until Imentioned the coupons. "

"Sare!"

The lady's eye was unflinching, and poppa quailed. He looked ashamed, asif he had been caught in telling a story. They made a picture, as hestood there pulling his beard, of American chivalry and Gallic guile, which was almost pathetic. 

"Well, " said he, "as it's necessary that Mrs. Wick should lie down assoon as possible you might show us those third floor rooms. "

Then he recovered his dignity and glanced at Madame more in sorrow thanin anger. "Certainly, sare, " she said severely. "Will you use the lift?For the lift there is no sharge. "

"That, " said the Senator, "is real liberal. " In moments of emotionpoppa often dropped into an Americanism. "If it's a serious offer Ithink we _will_ use the lift. "

At a nod from Madame, Francois went away to seek the man belonging tothe lift, and after a time returned with him. The lady produced anotherkey, with which the man belonging to the lift unlocked the door of thebrass cage which guarded it. 

"You must find strangers very dishonest, madam, " said the Senatorcourteously as we stepped inside, "to render such a precautionnecessary. "

But before we arrived at the third floor we were convinced that it wasunnecessary. It was not an elevator that the most burglarious would havecared to take away. 

So many Americans surrounded the breakfast table next morning that wemight almost have imagined ourselves in Chicago. A small, young priestwith furtive brown eyes cowered at one of the side tables, and atanother a broad-shouldered, unsmiling lady, dressed in black, with browsand a slight moustache to match, dispensed food to a sallow andshrinking object of preternaturally serious aspect who seemed to be herhusband, and a little boy who kept an anxious eye on them both. Theywere French, too, but all the people who sat up and down the long middletable belonged to the United States of America. They were there ingroups and in families representing different localities and differentsocial positions--as momma said, you had only to look at their shoulderseams; and each group or family received the advances of the next withthe polite tolerance, head a little on one side, which characterises uswhen we don't know each other's business standing or church membership;but the tide of conversation which ebbed and flowed had a flavour whichmade the table a geographical unit. I say "flavour, " because there wascertainly something, but I am now inclined to think with Mr. Page that"accent" is rather too strong a word to describe it. At all events, thegratification of hearing it after his temporary exile in Great Britainalmost brought tears to the Senator's eyes. There were only three vacantplaces, and, as we took them, making the national circle complete, alittle smile wavered round the table. It was a proud, conscious smile;it indicated that though we might not be on terms of intimacy werecognised ourselves to be immensely and uniformly American, andconsiderably the biggest fraction of the travelling public. As poppasaid, the prevailing feeling was also American. As he was tucking hisnapkin into his waistcoat, and ordering our various breakfasts, thegentleman who sat next to him listened--he could not help it--fidgetted, and finally, with some embarrassment, spoke. 

"I don't know, sir, " he said, "whether you're aware of it--I presumeyou're a stranger, like myself--but all they _allow_ for what they callbreakfast in this hotel is tea or coffee, rolls, and butter; everythingelse is charged extra. "

Poppa was touched. As he said to me afterward, who but an Americanwould have taken the trouble to tell a stranger a thing like that! Notan Englishman, certainly--he would see you bankrupt first! He disguisedhis own sophistication, and said he was very much obliged, and he almostapologised for not being able to take advantage of the information, andstick to coffee and rolls. 

"But the fact is, " he said in self-defence, "we may get back for lunchand we may not. "

"That's all right, " the gentleman replied with distinct relief. "Ididn't mind the omelette or the sole, but when it came to fried chickenand strawberries I just had to speak out. You going to make a long stayin Paris?"

As they launched to conversation momma and I glanced at each other withmutual congratulation. It was at last obvious that the Senator was goingto enjoy his European experiences; we had been a little doubtful aboutit. Left to ourselves, we discussed our breakfast and the waiters, theonly French people we could see from where we sat, and expressed ourannoyance, which was great, at being offered tooth-picks. I was sohungry that it was only when I asked for a third large roll that Inoticed momma regarding me with mild disapproval. 

"I fear, " she said with a little sigh, "that you are thinking verylittle of what is past and gone, love. "

"Momma, " I replied, "don't spoil my breakfast. " When momma can throw anemotional chill over anything, I never knew her to refrain. "I _should_like that _garçon_ to bring me some more bread, " I continued. 

Momma sighed even more deeply. "You may have part of mine, " she replied, breaking it with a gesture that said such callousness she could notunderstand. Her manner for the next few minutes expressed distinctlythat she, at least, meant to do her duty by Arthur. 

Presently from the other side of poppa came the words, "_Not_ Wick ofChicago!"

"I guess I can't deny it, " said poppa. 

"Senator Wick?"

Poppa lowered his voice. "If it's all the same to you, " he said, "notfor the present. Just plain Joshua P. Wick. I'm not what you calltravelling incognito, do you see, but, so far as the U. S. Senate isconcerned, I haven't got it with me. "

"Well, sir, I won't mention it again. But all the same, if I may beallowed to say so, I am pleased to meet you, sir--very pleased. Isuppose they wired you that Mike McConnell's got the Post Office. "

Poppa held out his hand in an instant of speechless gratitude. "Sir, " hesaid, "they did not. Put it there. I said no wires and no letters, andI've been sorry for it ever since. Momma, " he continued, "daughter, allow me to present to you Mr. ?--Mr. Malt, who has heard by cablegramthat our friend Mr. McConnell is Postmaster-General of Chicago. "

Momma was grateful, too, though she expressed it somewhat moredistantly. Momma has a great deal of manner with strangers; it sometimescompletely disguises her real feeling toward them. I was also grateful, though I merely bowed, and kicked the Senator under the table. Nobodywould have guessed from our outward bearing the extent to which ourpolitical fortunes, as a family, were mixed up with Mike McConnell's. Mr. Malt immediately said that if there was anything else he could dofor us he was at our service. 

"Well, " said poppa, "I suppose there's a good deal of intrinsic interestin this town--relics of Napoleon, the Bon Marché, and so on--and we'vegot to see it. I must say, " he added, turning to momma, "I feelconsiderably more equal to it now. "

"It will take you a good long week, " said Mr. Malt earnestly, "to beginto have an idea of it. You might spend two whole days in the Louvreitself. Is your time limited?"

"I don't need to tell any American the market value of it, " said poppasmiling. 

"Then you can't do better than go straight to the Louvre. I'd be pleasedto accompany you, only I've got to go round and see our Ambassador--I'vegot a little business with him. I daresay you know that one of ourman-of-war ships is lying right down here in the Seine river. Well, thecaptain is giving a reception to-morrow in honour of the Russian Admiralwho happens to be there, too. I've got ladies with me and I wrote forfour tickets. Did I get the four tickets--or two of them--or one? No, sir, I got a letter in the third person singular saying it wasn't apublic entertainment! I wrote back to say I guessed it was an Americanentertainment, and he could expect me, all the same. He hadn't any sortof excuse--my name and business address were on my letter paper. Now I'mjust going round to see what a United States Ambassador's for, in thisconnection. "

Mr. Malt rose and the waiter withdrew his chair. "Thank you, _garçon_, "said he. "I'm coming back again--do you understand? This is not my lastmeal, " and the waiter bowed as if that were a statement which had to beacknowledged, but was of the least possible consequence to himpersonally. "Well, Mr. Wick, " continued Mr. Malt, brushing the crumbsfrom his waistcoat, "I'll say good morning, and to your ladies also. I'mvery pleased to have met you. "

"Well, " said momma, as he disappeared, "if every American in Paris hasdecided to go to that reception there won't be much room for theRussians. "

"I suppose he's a voter and a tax-payer, and he's got his feelings, "replied poppa. The Senator would defend a voter and a tax-payer againstany imputation not actually criminal. 

"I'm glad I'm not one of his lady-friends, " momma continued. "I don'tthink I _could_ make myself at home on that man-of-war under thecircumstances. But I daresay he'll drag them there with him. He seems tobe just that kind of a man. "

"He's a very patriotic kind of a man, " replied the Senator. "It's hispatriotism, don't you see, that's giving him all this trouble. It's beenoutraged. Personally I consider Mr. Malt a very intelligent gentleman, and if he'd given me an opening as big as the eye of a needle I'm thecamel that would have gone with him, Augusta. "

This statement of the Senator's struck me as something to be acted upon. If there was to be a constant possibility of his going off with anychance American in regular communication with the United States, ourEuropean tour would be a good deal less interesting than I had been ledto expect. While momma was getting ready for the Louvre, therefore, Istepped down to the office and wired our itinerary to his partner inChicago. "Keep up daily communication by wire in detail, " I telegraphed, "forward copies all important letters care Peters. " Peters was thetourist agent who had undertaken to bless our comings and goings. I saidnothing whatever to poppa, but I felt a glow of conscious triumph when Ithought of Mr. Malt. 

We stood and realised Paris on the pavement while the fiacre turned infrom the road and drew up for us. I had every intention of beingfascinated and so had momma. We had both heard often and often that goodAmericans when they die go to Paris, and that prepares one for a gooddeal in this life. We were so anxious to be pleased that we fastenedwith one accord upon the florist's shop under the hotel and said that itwas uniquely charming, though we both knew places in Broadway that itcouldn't be compared with. We looked amiably at the passers-by, and didour best to detect in the manner of their faces that _esprit_ that makesthe dialogue of French novels so stimulating. What I usually thought Isaw when they looked at us was a leisurely indifferentism ornamentedwith the suspicion of a sneer, and based upon a certain fundamentalacquisitiveness and ability to make a valuation that acknowledged thedesirability of our presence on business grounds, if not on personalones. It seemed to be a preconcerted public intention to make as muchnoise in a given space as possible--we spoke of the cheerfulness of it, stopping our ears. The cracking of the drivers' whips alone made a _feude joie_ that never ceased, and listening to it we knew that we ought tofeel happy and elated. The driver of our fiacre was fat and rubicund, hewore a green coat, brass buttons, and a shiny top hat, and looked as ifhe drank constantly. His jollity was perfunctory, I know, and covered agrasping nature, but it was very well imitated, like everything inParis. As he whirled us, with a whip-report like a pistol-shot, into thetrain of traffic in the middle of the street, we felt that we wereindeed in the city of appearances; and I put down in my mind, not havingmy note-book, that Paris lives up to its photographs. 

"We mustn't forget our serious object, dear, " said momma, as we rolledover the cobblestones--"our literary object. What shall we note thismorning? The broad streets, the elegant shops--_do_ look at that one!Darling, is it absolutely necessary to go to the Louvre this morning?There are some things we really need. "

Momma addressed the Senator. I mentioned to her once that her way ofdoing it was almost English in its demonstrativeness, and my otherparent told me privately he wished I hadn't--it aggravated it so. 

"Augusta, " said poppa, firmly, "I understand your feeling. I take ahuman interest in those stores myself, which I do not expect thispicture gallery, etc. , to inspire in me. But there the Louvre _is_, yousee, and it's got to be done. If we spent our whole time in this city inmere pleasure and amusement, you would be the first to reproachyourself, Augusta. "

A few minutes later, when we had crossed the stone quadrangle andmounted the stairs, and stood with our catalogue in the Salle Lacaze, momma said that she wouldn't have missed it for anything. She sankecstatic upon a bench, and gave to every individual picture upon theopposite wall the tribute of her intensest admiration. It was a pleasureto see her enjoying herself so much; and poppa and I vainly tried tokeep up to her with the catalogue. 

"Oh, why haven't we such things in Chicago!" she exclaimed, at which theSenator checked her mildly. 

"It's a mere question of time, " said he. "It isn't reasonable to expectPre-Raphaelites in a new country. But give us three or four hundredyears, and we'll produce old masters which, if you ladies will excusethe expression, will knock the spots out of the Middle Ages. " Poppa issuch an optimist about Chicago. 

The Senator went on in a strain of criticism of the pictures perfectlymoderate and kindly--nothing he wouldn't have said to the artiststhemselves--until momma interrupted him. "Don't you think we might besilent for a time, Alexander, " she said. 

Momma does call him Alexander sometimes. I didn't like to mention itbefore, but it can't be concealed for ever. She says it's because Joshuaalways costs her an effort, and every woman ought to have the right toname her own husband. 

"Let us offer to all this genius, " she continued, indicating it, "thetribute of sealing our lips. "

The Senator will always oblige. "Mine are sealed, Augusta, " he replied, and so we sat in silence for the next ten minutes. But I could see byhis expression, in connection with the angle at which his hat wastipped, that he was comparing the productions before him with the futureold masters of Chicago, and wishing it were possible to live long enoughto back Chicago. 

"How they do sink in!" said momma at last. "How they sink into thesoul!"

"They do, " replied the Senator. "I don't deny it. But I see by thecatalogue, counting Salles and Salons and all, there's seventeen roomsfull of them. If they're all to sink in, for my part I'll have toenlarge the premises. And we've been here three-quarters of an houralready, and life is short, Augusta. "

So we moved on where the imperishable faces of Greuze and Velasquez andRembrandt smiled and frowned and wondered at us. As poppa said, it waseasy to see that these people had ideas, and were simply longing toexpress them. "You feel sorry for them, " he said, "just as you feelsorry for an intelligent terrier. But these poor things can't even wagtheir tails! Just let me know when you've had enough, Augusta. "

Momma declared, with an accent of reproach, that she could never haveenough. I noticed, however, that we did not stay in the second room aslong as in the first one, and that our progress was steadilyaccelerating. Presently the Senator asked us to sit down for a fewminutes while he should leave us. 

"There's a picture here Bramley said I was to see without fail, " heexplained. "It's called 'Mona Lisa, ' and it's by an artist by the nameof Leonardo da Vinci. Bramley said it was a very fine painting, but Idon't remember just now whether he said it was what you might call apicture for the family or not. I'll just go and ascertain, " said theSenator. "Judging from some of the specimens here, oil paintings in theMiddle Ages weren't intended to be chromo-lithographed. "

In his absence momma and I discussed French cookery as far as we hadexperienced it, in detail, with prodigious yawns for which we did noteven apologise. Poppa was gone a remarkably short time and came backradiant. "I've found Mona, " he exclaimed, "and--she's all right. Bramleysaid it was the most remarkable portrait of a woman in theworld--looking at it, Bramley said, you become insensible toeverything--forget all about your past life and future hopes--and Iguess he's about right. Come and see it. "

Momma arose without enthusiasm, and I thought I detected adversecriticism in advance in her expression. 

"Here she is, " said the Senator presently. "Now look at that! Did youever see anything more intellectual and cynical, and contemptuous andsweet, all in one! Lookin' at you as much as to say, 'Who are you, anyhow, from way back in the State of Illinois--commercial traveller?And what do you pretend to know?'"

Momma regarded the portrait for a moment in calm disapprobation. "Idaresay she was very clever, " she said at length, "but if you wish toknow my opinion I _don't think much of her_. And before taking us to seeanother female portrait, Mr. Wick, I should be obliged if you would takethe precaution of finding out _who she was_. "

After which we drove quietly home. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Poppa decided that we had better go to Versailles by Cook'sfour-in-hand. There were other ways of going, but he thought we might aswell take the most distinguished. He was careful to explain that themere grandeur of this method of transportation had no weight with him;he was compelled to submit to the ostentation of it for another purposewhich he had in view. 

"I am not a person, " said poppa, "nor is any member of my family, tothrust myself into aristocratic circles in foreign lands; but when anopportunity like this occurs for observing them without prejudice, so tospeak, I believe in taking it. "

We went to the starting place early, so as to get good seats, for, asmomma said, the whole of the Parisian _élite_ with the President thrownin wouldn't induce her to ride with her back to the horses. In thatposition she would be incapable of observation. 

The coaches were not there when we arrived, and presently the Senatordiscovered why. He told us with a slightly depressed air that they hadgone round to the hotels. "Daughter, " he said to me, "J. P. Wicks doeshate to make a fool of himself, and this morning he's done it twiceover. The best seats will go to the people who had the sense to stay attheir hotels, and the fact that the coaches go round shows that they runfor tourist traffic only. There won't be a Paris aristocrat among them, "continued poppa gloomily, "nary an aristocrat. "

When they came up we saw that there wasn't. The coaches were full oftourist traffic. It was mounted on the box seats very high up, where itlooked conspicuously happy, and sounded a little hysterical; and it waspacked, tight and warm and anticipant into every available seat. Fromits point of vantage, secured by waiting at the hotel for it, thetourist traffic looked down upon the Wick family on the pavement, inirritating compassion. As momma said, if we hadn't taken our tickets itwas enough to have sent us to the Bon Marché. 

A man in a black frock coat and white shirt cuffs came bareheaded fromthe office and pointed us out to the interpreter, who wore brassbuttons. The interpreter appeared to mention it to the guide, who wipedhis perspiring brows under a soft brown felt hat. A fiacre crawled roundthe corner and paused to look on, and the Senator said, "Now which ofyou three gentlemen is responsible for my ride to Versailles?"

The interpreter looked at him with a hostile expression, the guide madea gesture of despair at the volume of tourist traffic, and the man withthe shirt cuffs said, "You 'ave took your plazes on ze previous day?"

"I took them from you ten minutes ago, " poppa replied. "What a memoryyou've got!"

"Zen zare is nothings guaranteed. But we will send special carriage, andbe'ind you can follow up, " and he indicated the fiacre which had nowdrawn into line. 

"I don't think so, " said poppa, "when I buy four-in-hand tickets I don'ttake one-in-hand accommodation. "

"You will not go in ze private carriage?"

"I will not. "

"_Mais_--it is much ze preferable. "

"I don't know why I should contradict you, " said poppa, but at thatmoment the difficulty was solved by the Misses Bingham. 

"Guide!" cried one of the Misses Bingham, beckoning with her fan, "_Nousvoulons à déscendre!_"

"You want get out?"

"_Oui!_" replied the Misses Bingham with simultaneous dignity, and, asthe guide merely wiped his forehead again, poppa stepped forward. "Can Iassist you?" he said, and the Misses Bingham allowed themselves to beassisted. They were small ladies, dressed in black pongee silk, withsloping shoulders, and they each carried a black fan and a brocaded bagfor odds and ends. They were not plain-looking, and yet it was readilyseen why nobody had ever married them; they had that look of thepredestined single state that you sometimes see even among the very wellpreserved. One of them had an eye-glass, but it was easy to note evenwhen she was not wearing it that she was a person of independent income, of family, and of New York. 

"We are quite willing, " said the Misses Bingham, "to exchange our seatsin the coach for yours in the special carriage, if that arrangementsuits you. "

"_Bon!_" interposed the guide, "and opposite there is one other place ifthat fat gentleman will squeeze himself a little--eh?"

"Come along!" said the fat gentleman equably. 

"But I couldn't think of depriving you ladies. "

"Sir, " said one Miss Bingham, "it is no deprivation. "

"We should prefer it, " added the other Miss Bingham. They spoke withdecision; one saw that they had not reached middle age without knowingtheir own minds all the way. 

"To tell the truth, " added the Miss Bingham without the eye-glass in alow voice, "we don't think we can stand it. "

"I don't precisely take you, madam, " said the Senator politely. 

"I'm an American, " she continued. 

Poppa bowed. "I should have known you for a daughter of the Stars andStripes anywhere, " he said in his most complimentary tone. 

Miss Bingham looked disconcerted for an instant and went on. "My greatgrandfather was A. D. C. To General Washington. I've got that much reasonto be loyal. "

"There couldn't have been many such officers, " the Senator agreed. 

"But when I go abroad I don't want the whole of the United States tocome with me. "

"It takes the gilt off getting back for you?" suggested poppa a littlestiffly. 

Miss Bingham failed to take the hint. "We find Europe infested withAmericans, " she continued. "It disturbs one's impressions so. And thetravelling American invariably belongs to the very _least_ desirableclass. "

"Now I shouldn't have thought so, " said the Senator, with intentionalhumour. But it was lost upon Miss Bingham. 

"Well, if you like them, " said the other one, "you'd better go in thecoach. "

The Senator lifted his hat. "Madam, " he said, "I thank you for giving tome and mine the privilege of visiting a very questionable scene of thepast in the very best society of the present. "

And as the guide was perspiring more and more impatiently, we got in. 

For some moments the Senator sat in silence, reflecting upon thissentiment, with an occasionally heaving breast. Circumstances forbadehis talking about it, but he cast an eye full of criticism upon thefiacre rolling along far in the rear, and remarked, with a fervor mostunusual, that he hoped they liked our dust. We certainly made a greatdeal of it. Momma and I, looking at our fellow travellers, at oncedecided that the Misses Bingham had been a little hasty. The fatgentleman, who wore a straw hat very far back, and meant to enjoyhimself, was certainly our fellow-citizen. So was his wife, andbrother-in-law. So were a bride and bridegroom on the box seat--nothingless than the best of everything for an American honeymoon--and so was asolitary man with a short cut bristly beard, a slouch hat, a pink cottonshirt, and a celluloid collar. But there was an indescribable somethingabout all the rest that plainly showed they had never voted for apresident or celebrated a Fourth of July. I was still revolving it in mymind when the fat gentleman, who had been thinking of the same thing, said to his neighbour on the other side, a person of serious appearancein a black silk hat, apropos of the line he had crossed by, "I may bewrong, but I shouldn't have put you down to be an American. "

"Oh, I guess I am, " replied the serious man, "but not the United Stateskind. "

"British North, " suggested the fat gentleman, with a smile thatacknowledged Her Majesty. "First cousin once removed, " and momma and Ilooked at one another intelligently. We had nothing against Canadians, except that they generally talk as if they had the whole of the St. Lawrence river and Niagara Falls in a perpetual lease fromProvidence--and we had never seen so many of them together before. Thecoach was three-quarters full of these foreigners, if the MissesBingham had only known; but as poppa afterwards said, they were probablynot foreign enough. It may have been imagination, but I immediatelythought I saw a certain meekness, a habit of deference--I wanted toincite them all to treat the Guelphs as we did. Just then we stoppedbefore the church of St. Augustin, and the guide came swinging along theoutside of the coach hoarsely emitting facts. Everybody listenedintently, and I noticed upon the Canadian countenances the samedetermination to be instructed that we always show ourselves. We allmeant to get the maximum amount of information for the price, and Idon't think any of us have forgotten that the site of St. Augustin isthree-cornered and its dome resembles a tiara to this day. For a momentI was sorry for the Misses Bingham, who were absorbing nothing but dust;but, as momma said, they looked very well informed. 

It must be admitted that we were a little shy with the guide--we let himbully us. As poppa said, he was certainly well up in his subject, butthat was no reason why he should have treated us as if we had all comefrom St. Paul or Kansas City. There was a condescension about him thatwas not explained by the state of his linen, and a familiarity that Ihad always supposed confined exclusively to the British aristocracyamong themselves. He had a red face and a blue eye, with which he lookeddown on us with scarcely concealed contempt, and he was marvellouslyagile, distributing his information as open street-car conductorscollect fares. 

"They seem extremely careful of their herbage in this town, " remarkedthe serious man, and we noticed that it was so. Precautions were takenin wire that would have dissuaded a grasshopper from venturing on it. Itgrew very neatly inside, doubtless with a certain _chic_, but it had alook of being put on for the occasion that was essentially Parisian. Also the trees grew up out of iron plates, which was uncomfortable, though, no doubt, highly finished, and the flowers had a _cachet_ aboutthem which made one think of French bonnets. As we rolled into the Boisit became evident that the guide had something special to communicate. He raised his voice and coughed, in a manner which commanded instantattention. 

"Ladies--and genelmen, " he said--he always added the gentleman as ifthey were an after-thought--"you are mos' fortunate, mos' locky. _ToutParis_--all the folks--are still driving their 'orse an' carriage 'ere. One week more--the style will be all gone--what you say--vamoosed? Everymother's son! An' Cook's excursion party won't see nothin' but ole cabsgoin' along!"

"Can't we get away from them?" asked the serious person. It washumorously intended--certainly a liberty, and the guide was down on itin an instant. 

"Get away from them? Not if they know you're here!"

At which the serious man looked still more serious, and sympathy forhim sprang up in every heart. 

We passed Longchamps at a steady trot, and the guide's statement thatthe races there were always held on Sunday was received with a silencethat evidently disappointed him. It was plain that he had a witheringrejoinder ready for sabbatarians, and he waited anxiously, balanced onone foot, for an expression of shocked opinion. It was after we hadpassed Mont Valerien, frowning on the horizon, that the man in the pinkcotton shirt began to grow restive under so much instruction. He toldthe serious person that his name was Hinkson of Iowa, and the seriousperson was induced to reply that his was Pabbley of Simcoe, Ontario. Itwas insubordination--the guide was talking about the shelling from MontValerien at the time, with the most patriotic dislocations in hisgrammar. 

"You understan', you see?" he concluded. "Now those two genelmen, they_don'_ understan', and they _don'_ see. An' when they get back to theUnited States they won' be able to tell their wives an' sweetheartsanythin' about Mont Valerien! All right, genelmen--please yourselves. _Mais_ you please remember I am just like William Shekspeare--I give no_repétition_!"

It was then that the serious man demonstrated that Britons, even theNorth American kind, never, never would be slaves. Placing his blacksilk hat carefully a little further back on his head, he leaned forward. 

"Now look here, mister, " he said, "you're as personal as a Yankeenewspaper. So far as I know, you're not the friend of my childhood, northe companion of my later years, except for this trip only, and I'd justas soon you realised it. As far as I know, you're paid to point outobjects of historical interest. Don't you trouble to entertain us anyfurther than that. We'll excuse you!"

"Ladies--an' genelmen, " continued the guide calmly, "in a lil' shortwhile we shall be approached to the town of St. Cloud. At that town ofSt. Cloud will be one genelman will take the excellen' group--fotograff. To appear in that fotograff, you will please all keep together with me. Afterwards, you will look at the fountains, at the magnificent panoramade Paris, and we go on to Versailles. On the return journey, if you likethat fotograff you can buy, if you don't like, you don' buy. An' if yougot no wife an' no sweetheart all the same you keep your temper!"

But Mr. Pabbley had settled his hat in its normal position and did notintend to clear his brow for action again. All might have gone well, hadit not been for the patriotic sensitiveness of Mr. Hinkson of Iowa. 

"I think I heard you pass a remark about American newspapers, sir, " saidMr Hinkson of Iowa. "Think you've got any better in Canada?"

Mr. Pabbley smiled. There may have been some fancied superiority in thesmile. 

"I guess they suit us better, " he said. 

"Got any circulation figures about you?"

"Not being an advertising agent, I don't carry them. "

"I see!" Mr. Hinkson's manner of saying he saw clearly implied thatthere might have been other reasons why Mr. Pabbley declined to producethose figures. We were all listening now, and the guide had subsidedupon the box seat. The Senator's face wore the judicial expression italways assumes when he has a difficulty in keeping himself out of theconversation. It became easier than ever to separate the Republican andthe British elements on that coach. 

"Well, " said Mr. Hinkson, "don't you folks get pretty tired of payingVictoria taxes sometimes?"

The British contingent seemed to find this amusing. The Americans lookedas if it were no laughing matter. 

"I don't believe Her Majesty is much the richer for all she gets out ofus, " said Mr. Pabbley. 

"Oh, I guess you send over a pretty good lump per annum, don't you?"

"Not a red cent, sir, " said Mr. Pabbley decisively. "We run our ownshow. "

"What about that aristocrat that rules the country up at Ottawa?"

"Oh, _he_ hasn't got any say! We get him out and pay him a salary tosave ourselves the trouble of electing a president. A presidentialelection's bad for business, bad for politics, bad for morals. "

"You seem to know. Doesn't it ever make you tired to hear yourselvescalled subjects? Don't you ever want to be free and equal, like us?Trot out the truth now--the George Washington article!"

"Mister, " said Mr. Pabbley, "I flatter myself that Canadians are a gooddeal like United States folks already, and I don't mind congratulatingboth our nations on the resemblance. But I'm bound to add that, while Iwould wish to imitate the American people in many ways still further, Iwouldn't be like you personally, no, not under any circumstances nor inany respect. "

At this moment it was necessary to dismount, and, as poppa and I bothimmediately became engaged in reconciling momma to the necessity ofwalking to the top of the plateau, I lost the rest of the conversation. Momma, when it was necessary to walk anywhere, always became patheticand offered to stay behind alone. She declared on this occasion that shewould be perfectly happy in the coach with the dear horses, and poppahad to resort to extreme measures. "Please yourself, Augusta, " he said. "Your lightest whim is law to me, and you know it. But I'm going to hatestanding up in that photograph all alone with my only child, like anywidower. "

"Alexander!" exclaimed momma at once. "What a dreadful idea! I think Imight be able to manage it. "

The photographer was there with his camera. The guide marshalled us upto him, falling back now and then to bark at the heels of the laggingones, and, with the assistance of a bench and an acacia, we were rapidlyarranged, the short ones standing up, the tall ones sitting down, everyone assuming his most pleasing expression, and the Misses Binghamstanding alone, apart, on the brink, looking on under an umbrella thatseemed to protect them from intimate association with the democracy inany form. We saw the guide approach them in gingerly inquiry, but, before simultaneous waves of their two black fans, he retired indisorder. The bride had slipped her hand upon her husband's shoulder, just to mark his identity; the fat gentleman had removed his hat andhurriedly put it on again, and the photographer had gone under hiscurtain for the third time, when Mr. Hinkson of Iowa, who sat in aconspicuous cross-legged position in the foreground, drew from hispocket a handkerchief and spread it carefully out over one knee. It wasnot an ordinary handkerchief, it was a pocket edition of the Stars andStripes, all red, and blue, and white, and it attracted the instantattention of every eye. One of the eyes was Mr. Pabbley's, who appearedto clear the group at a bound in consequence. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, " exclaimed Mr. Pabbley with vehemence, "doesanyone happen to have a Union Jack about him or her?"

They felt in their pockets, but they hadn't. 

"Then, " said Mr. Pabbley, who was evidently aroused, "unless thegentleman from Iowa will withdraw his handkerchief, I refuse to sit. "

"I guess we aren't any of us annexationists, " said a middle-aged womanfrom Toronto in a duster, and proceeded to follow Mr. Pabbley. 

The rest of the Canadians looked at each other undecidedly for a momentand then slowly filed after the middle-aged woman. There remained themere wreck of a group clustering round the national emblem on the leg ofMr. Hinkson. The guide was expostulating himself speechless, thephotographer was in convulsions, the Senator saw it was time tointerfere. Leaning over, he gently tapped the patriot from Iowa on theshoulder. 

"Aren't you satisfied with the sixty million fellow-citizens you've gotalready, " said poppa, "that you want to grab nine half-starved Canuckswith a hand camera?"

"They're in the majority here, " said Mr. Hinkson fiercely, "and I dareany one of 'em to touch that flag. Go along over there and join 'em ifyou like--they're goin' to be done by themselves--to send to QueenVictoria!"

But that was further than anybody would go, even in defence ofcosmopolitanism. The Republic rallied round Mr. Hinkson's leg, while theDominion with much dignity supported Mr. Pabbley. As momma said, humannature is perfectly extraordinary. 

For the rest of the journey to Versailles there was hardly anyinternational conversation. Mr. Hinkson tied his handkerchief round hisneck, and the Canadians tried to look as if they had no objection. Wepassed through the villages of Montretout and Buze. I know we didbecause momma took down the names, but I fancy they couldn't havediffered much from the general landscape, for I don't remember a thingabout them. The Misses Bingham came and sat next us at luncheon, whichflattered both momma and me immensely, though the Senator didn't seemable to see where the distinction came in, and during this meal theypointed out the fact that Mr. Hinkson was drinking lemonade with hisroast mutton, and asked us how we _could_ travel with such acombination. I remember poppa said that it was a combination that Mr. Hinkson and Mr. Hinkson only had to deal with, but momma and I felt theobloquy of it a good deal, though when we came to think of it we were nomore responsible for Mr. Hinkson than the Misses Bingham were. Afterthat, walking rapidly behind the guide, we covered centuries of Frenchhistory, illustrated by chairs and tables and fire-irons and chandeliersand four-post beds. Momma told me afterwards that she was rather sorryshe had taken me with the guide through Madame du Barry's fascinatingPetit Trianon, the things he didn't say sounded so improper, but when Iassured her that it was only contemporary scandal that had any effect onour morals, she said she supposed that was so, and somehow one never didexpect people who wore curled wigs and knee-breeches to behave quiteprettily. The rooms were dotted with groups of people who had come infiacres or by tramway, which made it difficult for the guide to imparthis information only to those who had paid for it. He generallysurmounted this by saying, "Ladies and genelmen, I want you to stickcloser than brothers. When you hear me a-talkin' don' you go turnin'over your Baedekers and lookin' out of the window. If I didn't know agreat big sight more about Versailles than Baedeker does I wouldn't behere makin' a clown of myself; an' I'll show you the view out of thewindow all in good time. You see that lady an' two genelmen over there?_They're_ listenin' all right enough because they don't belong to thisparty an' they want to get a little information cheap price. Allright--I let 'em have it!" At which the lady and two gentlemen usuallymelted away looking annoyed. 

We were fascinated with the coaches of state and much impressed with thecost of them. As momma said, it took so very _little_ imagination toconjure up a Royal Philip inside bowing to the populace. 

"What a pity we couldn't have had them over!" said poppa indiscreetly. 

"Where you mean?" demanded the guide, "over to America? I know--for thatole Chicago show! You are the five hundred American who has said that tome this summer! Number five hundred! Nossir, we don't lend thosecarriage. We don't even drive them ourself. "

"No more kings and queens nowadays, " remarked Mr. Hinkson, "thiscentury's got no use for them. "

I think the guide was a Monarchist. "Nossir, " he said, "you don't see nomore kings an' queens of France, but you do see a good many peopletravellin' that's nothin' like so good for trade. "

At which Mr. Pabbley's eye sought that of the guide, and expressed itsappreciation in a marked and joyous wink. 

In the Palace, especially in the picture rooms, there were generallybenches along the walls. When momma observed this she arranged that sheshould go on ahead and sit down and get the impression, while poppa andI caught up from time to time with the guide and the information. Theguide was quite agreeable about it, when it was explained to him. 

He was either a very thoughtless or a very insincere person, however. Stopping before the portrait of an officer in uniform, he drew us alltogether. The Canadians, headed by Mr. Pabbley, were well to the fore, and it was to them in particular that he appeared to address himselfwhen he said, "Take a good look at this picture, ladies and genelmen. There is a man wat lives in your 'istory an', if I may say, in your'art--as he does in ours. There's a man, ladies and genelmen, thathelped you on to liberty. Take a good look at 'im, you'll be glad toremember it afterward. "

And it was General Lafayette!

CHAPTER VII. 

It was after dinner and we were sitting in the little courtyard of thehotel in the dark without our hats--that is, momma and I; the Senatorwas seldom altogether without his hat. I think he would have felt it tobe a little indecent. The courtyard was paved, and there were flowers onthe stand in the middle of it, natural palms and artificial begoniasmixed with the most annoying cleverness, and little tables for coffeecups or glasses were scattered about. Outside beyond the hotel vestibuleone could see and hear Paris rolling by in the gaslight. It was the onlyplace in the hotel that did not smell of furniture, so we frequented it. So did Mr. Malt and Mrs. Malt, and Emmeline Malt, and Miss Callis. Thatwas chiefly how we made the acquaintance of the Malt party. You can'tvery well sit out in the dark in a foreign capital with a family fromyour own State and not get to know them. Besides poppa never couldovercome his feeling of indebtedness to Mr. Malt. They were takingEmmeline abroad for her health. She was the popular thirteen-year-oldonly child of American families, and she certainly was thin. I rememberbeing pleased, sometimes, considering her in her typical capacity, thatI once had a little brother, though he died before I was born. 

The two gentlemen were smoking; we could see nothing but the ends oftheir cigars glowing in their immediate vicinity. Momma was saying thatthe situation was very romantic, and Mr. Malt had assured her that itwas nothing to what we would experience in Italy. "That's where you_get_ romance, " said Mr. Malt, and his cigar end dropped like a fallingstar as he removed the ash. "Italy's been romantic ever since B. C. Allthrough the time the rest of the world was inventing Magna Chartas andDoomsday Books, and Parliaments, and printing presses, and steamengines, Italy's gone right on turning out romance. Result is, a betterquality of that article to be had in Italy to-day than anywhere else. Further result, twenty million pounds spent there annually by touristsfrom all parts of the civilised world. Romance, like anything else, canbe made to pay. "

"Are we likely to find the beds----" began Mrs. Malt plaintively. 

"Oh dear yes, Mrs. Malt!" interrupted momma, who thought everythingentomological extremely indelicate. "Perfectly. You have only to go tothe hotels the guide-books recommend, and everything will be quite_propre_. "

"Well, " said Emmeline, "they may be _propre_ in Italy, but they're not_propre_ in Paris. We had to speak to the housemaid yesterday morning, didn't we, mother? Don't you remember the back of my neck?"

"We all suffered!" declared Mrs. Malt. 

"And I _showed_ one to her, mother, and all she would say was, '_Jamaisici, mademoiselle, ici, jamais!_' And there it _was_ you know. "

"Emmeline, " said her father, "isn't it about time for you to want to goto bed?"

"Not by about three hours. I'm going to get up a little music first. Doyou play, Mis' Wick?"

Momma said she didn't, and Miss Malt disappeared in search of otherperformers. "Don't you go asking strangers to play, Emmeline, " hermother called after her. "They'll think it forward of you. "

"When Emmeline leaves us, " said her father, "I always have a kind ofabandoned feeling, like a top that's got to the end of its spin. "

There was silence for a moment, and then the Senator said he thought hecould understand that. 

"Well, " continued Mr. Malt, "you've had three whole days now. I presumeyou're beginning to know your way around. "

"I think we may say we've made pretty good use of our time, " respondedthe Senator. "This morning we had a look in at the Luxembourg picturegallery, and the Madeleine, and Napoleon's Tomb, and the site of theBastile. This afternoon we took a run down to Notre Dame Cathedral. That's a very fine building, sir. "

"You saw the Morgue, of course, when you were in that direction, "remarked Mr. Malt. 

"Why no, " poppa confessed, "we haven't taken much of liking for liveFrenchmen, up to the present, and I don't suppose dead ones would be anymore attractive. "

"Oh, there's nothing unpleasant, " said Mrs. Malt, "nothing that you can_notice_. "

"Nothing at all, " said Mr. Malt. "They refrigerate them, you know. Wesend our beef to England by the same process----"

"There are people, " the Senator interrupted, "who never can see anythingamusing in a corpse. "

"They don't let you in as a matter of course, " Mr. Malt went on. "Youhave to pretend that you're looking for a relation. "

"We had to mention Uncle Sammy, " said Mrs. Malt. 

"An uncle of Mis' Malt's who went to California in '49 and was neverheard of afterward, " Mr. Malt explained. "First use he's ever been tohis family. Well, there they were, seven of 'em, lying there looking atyou yesterday. All in good condition. I was told they have a placedownstairs for the older ones. "

"Alexander, " said momma faintly, "I think I _should_ like a littlebrandy in my coffee. Were there--were there any ladies among them, Mr. Malt?"

"Three, " Mr. Malt responded briskly, "and one of them had her hair----"

"Then _please_ don't tell us about them, " momma exclaimed, and thesilence that ensued was one of slight indignation on the part of theMalt family. 

"You been seeing the town at all, evenings?" Mr. Malt inquired of theSenator. 

"I can't say I have. We've been seeing so much of it in the daytime, wehaven't felt able to enjoy anything at night except our beds, " poppareturned with his accustomed candour. 

"Just so. All the same there's a good deal going on in Paris aftersupper. "

"So I've always been told, " said the Senator, lighting another cigar. 

"They've got what you might call characteristic shows here. You see alot of life. "

"Can you take your ladies?" asked the Senator. 

"Well of course you _can_, but I don't believe they would find itinteresting. "

"Too much life, " said the Senator. "I guess that settles it for me too. I daresay I'm lacking in originality and enterprise, but I generally askmyself about an entertainment, 'Are Mrs. And Miss Wick likely to enjoyit?' If so, well and good. If not, I don't as a rule take it in. "

"He's a great comfort that way, " remarked momma to Mrs. Malt. 

"Oh, I don't _frequent_ them myself, " said Mr. Malt defensively. 

"Talking of improprieties, " remarked Miss Callis, "have you seen theNew Salon?"

There was something very unexpected about Miss Callis; momma complainedof it. Her remarks were never polished by reflection. She called herselfa child of nature, but she really resided in Brooklyn. 

The Senator said we had not. 

"Then don't you go, Mr. Wick. There's a picture there----"

"We never look at such pictures, Miss Callis, " momma interrupted. 

"It's _so_ French, " said Miss Callis. 

Momma drew her shawl round her preparatory to withdrawing, but it wastoo late. 

"Too French for words, " continued Miss Callis. "The poet Lamartine, witha note-book and pencil in his hand, seated in a triumphal chariot, drawnthrough the clouds by beautiful Muses. "

"Oh, " said momma, in a relieved voice, "there's nothing so dreadfullyFrench about that. "

"You should have seen it, " said Miss Callis. "It was simply immoral. Lamartine was in a frock coat!"

"There could have been nothing objectionable in that, " momma repeated. "I suppose the Muses----"

"The Muses were not in frock coats. They were dressed in theirtraditions, " replied Miss Callis, "but they couldn't save the situation, poor dears. "

Momma looked as if she wished she had the courage to ask Miss Callis toexplain. 

"In picture galleries, " remarked poppa, "we've seen only the Luxembourgand the Louvre. The Louvre, I acknowledge, is worthy of a second visit. But I don't believe we'll have time to get round again. "

"We've got to get a hustle on ourselves in a day or two, " said Mr. Malt, as we separated for the night. "There's all Italy and Switzerlandwaiting for us, and they're bound to be done, because we've got circulartickets. But there's something about this town that I hate to leave. "

"He doesn't know whether it's the Arc de Triomphe on the Bois deBoulogne or the Opera Comique, or what, " said Mrs. Malt in affectionatecriticism. "But we've been here a week over our time now, and he doesn'tseem able to tear himself away. "

"I'll tell you what it is, " exclaimed Mr. Malt, producing a newspaper, "it's this little old _New York Herald_. There's no use comparing itwith any American newspaper, and it wouldn't be fair to do so; but Iwonder these French rags, in a foreign tongue, aren't ashamed to bepublished in the same capital with it. It doesn't take above a quarterof an hour to read in the mornings, but it's a quarter of an hour ofsolid comfort that you don't expect somehow abroad. If the _New YorkHerald_ were only published in Rome I wouldn't mind going there. "

"There's something, " said poppa, thoughtfully, as we ascended to thethird floor, "in what Malt says. "

Next day we spent an hour buying trunks for the accommodation of theunattainable elsewhere. Then poppa reminded us that we had an importantsatisfaction yet to experience. "Business before pleasure, " he said, "certainly. But we've been improving our minds pretty hard for the lastfew days, and I feel the need of a little relaxation. D. V. And W. P. , Ipropose this afternoon to make the ascent of the Eiffel Tower. Are youon?"

"I will accompany you, Alexander, if it is safe, " said momma, "and, ifit is unsafe, I couldn't possibly let you go without me. "

Momma is naturally a person of some timidity, but when the Senatorproposes to incur any danger, she always suggests that he shall do itover her dead body. 

I forget where we were at the time, but I know that we had only to walkthrough the perpetual motion of Paris, across a bridge, and down a fewsteps on the other side, to find the little steamer that took us by theriver to the Tower. We might have gone by omnibus or by fiacre, but ifwe had we should never have known what a street the Seine is, slidingthrough Paris, brown in the open sun, dark under the shadowing arches ofthe bridges, full of hastening comers and goers from landing-place tolanding-place, up and down. It gave us quite a new familiarity with theriver, which had been before only a part of the landscape, and one ofthe things that made Paris imposing. We saw that it was a highway oftraffic, and that the little, brisk, business-like steamers were full ofpeople, who went about in them because it was the cheapest and mostconvenient way, and not at all for the pleasure of a trip by water. Wenoticed, too, a difference in these river-going people. Some of themcarried baskets, and some of them read the _Petit Journal_, and they allcomfortably submitted to the good-natured bullying of the mariner incharge. There were elderly women in black, with a button or two offtheir tight bodices, and children with patched shoes carrying anassortment of vegetables, and middle-aged men in slouch hats, smokingtobacco that would have been forbidden by public statute anywhere else. They all treated us with a respect and consideration which we had notobserved in the Avenue de l'Opera, and I noticed the Senator visiblyexpanding in it. There was also a man and a little boy, and a dog, alllunching out of the same basket. Afterward, on being requested to do so, the dog performed tricks--French ones--to the enjoyment and satisfactionof all three. There was a great deal of politeness and good feeling, andif they were not Capi and Remi and Vitalis in "_Sans Famille_, " it wasmerely because their circumstances were different. 

As we stood looking at the Eiffel Tower, poppa said he thought if hewere in my place he wouldn't describe it. "It's old news, " he said, "andthere's nothing the general public dislike so much as that. Everyhotel-porter in Chicago knows that it's three hundred metres high, andthat you can see through it all the way up. There it is, and I feel asif I'd passed my boyhood in its shadow. That way I must say it's adisappointment. I was expecting it to be more unexpected, if youunderstand. "

Momma and I quite agreed. It had the familiarity of a demonstration ofEuclid, and to the non-engineering mind was about as interesting. TheSenator felt so well acquainted with it that he hesitated about buying adescriptive pamphlet. "They want to sell a stranger too much informationin this country, " he said. "The meanest American intelligence is equalto stepping into an elevator and stepping out again. " But he bought onenevertheless, and was particularly pleased with it, not only because itwas the cheapest thing in Paris at five cents, but because, as he saidhimself, it contained an amount of enthusiasm not usually available atany price. 

The Senator thought, as we entered the elevator at the first story, thatthe accommodation compared very well indeed with anything in hisexperience. He had only one criticism--there was no smoking-room. We hada slight difficulty with momma at the second story--she did not wish tochange her elevator. Inside she said she felt perfectly secure, but thetower itself she knew _must_ waggle at that height when once you steppedout. In the end, however, we persuaded her not to go down before she hadmade the ascent, and she rose to the top with her eyes shut. When wefinally got out, however, the sight of numbers of young ladies sellingEiffel Tower mementoes steadied her nerves. She agreed with poppa thatbusiness premises would never let on anything but the most stable basis. 

"It's exactly as Bramley said, " remarked the Senator. "You're up so highthat the scenery, so far as Paris is concerned, becomes perfectlyridiculous. It might as well be a map. "

"_Don't_ look over, Alexander, " said momma. "It will fill you with awild desire to throw yourself down. It is said _always_ to have thateffect. "

"'The past ends in this plain at your feet, '" quoted poppa criticallyfrom the guide-book, "'the future will there be fulfilled. ' I supposethey did feel a bit uppish when they'd got as high as this--but you'dthink France was about the only republic at present doing business, wouldn't you?"

I pointed out the Pantheon down below and St. Etienne du Mont, and poppawas immediately filled with a poignant regret that we had spent so muchtime seeing public buildings on foot. "Whereas, " said he, "from ourpresent point of view we could have done them all in ten minutes. As itis, we shall be in a position to say we've seen everything there is tobe seen in Paris. Bramley won't be able to tell us it's a pity we'vemissed anything. However, " he continued, "we must be conscientious aboutit. I've no desire to play it low down on Bramley. Let us walk round andpick out the places of interest he's most likely to expect to catch uson, and look at them separately. I should hate to think I wasn't tellingthe truth about a thing like that. "

We walked round and specifically observed the "Ecole des Beaux Arts, "the "Palais d'Industrie, " "Liberty Enlightening the World, " and otherobjects, poppa carefully noting against each of them "seen from EiffelTower. " As we made our way to the river side we noticed four otherpeople, two ladies and two gentlemen, looking at the military balloonhanging over Meudon. They all had their backs to us, and there was to mesomething dissimilarly familiar about three of those backs. While I wastrying to analyse it one of the gentlemen turned, and caught sight ofpoppa. In another instant the highest elevation yet made by engineeringskill was the scene of three impetuous American handclasps, and fourimpulsive American voices were saying, "Why how _do_ you do!" Thegentleman was Mr. Richard Dod of Chicago, known to our family withoutinterruption since he wore long clothes. Mr. Dod had come into hispatrimony and simultaneously disappeared in the direction of Europe sixmonths before, since when we had only heard vaguely that he had lostmost of it, but was inalterably cheerful; and there was nobody, apparently, he expected so little or desired so much to see in Paris asthe Senator, momma and me. Poppa called him "Dick, my boy, " momma calledhim "my dear Dicky, " I called him plain "Dick, " and when this had beengoing on for, possibly, five minutes, the older and larger of the twoladies of the party swung round with a majesty I at once associated withmy earlier London experiences, and regarded us through her _pince nez_. There was no mistaking her disapproval. I had seen it before. We wereAmericans and she was Mrs. Portheris of Half Moon-street, Piccadilly. Isaw that she recognised me and was trying to make up her mind whether, in view of the complication of Mr. Dod, to bow or not. But the woman whohesitates is lost, even though she be a British matron of massiveprejudices and a figure to match. In Mrs. Portheris's instant ofvacillation, I stepped forward with such enthusiasm that she wascompelled to take down her _pince nez_ and hold out a superior hand. Itook it warmly, and turned to my parents with a joy which was not in theleast affected. "Momma, " I exclaimed, "try to think of the very lastperson who would naturally cross your mind--our relation, Mrs. Portheris. Poppa, allow me to introduce you to your aunt--Mrs. Portheris. Your far distant nephew from Chicago, Mr. Joshua Peter Wick. "

It was a moment to be remembered--we all said so afterwards. Everythinghung upon Mrs. Portheris's attitude. But it was immediately evident thatMrs. Portheris considered parents of any kind excusable, evencommendable! Her manner said as much--it also implied, however, that shecould not possibly be held responsible for transatlantic connections bya former marriage. Momma was nervous, but collected. She bowed a distantWastgaggle bow, an heirloom in the family, which gave Mrs. Portheris tounderstand that if any cordiality was to characterise the occasion, itwould have to emanate from her. Besides, Mrs. Portheris was poppa'srelation, and would naturally have to be guarded against. Poppa, on theother hand, was cordiality itself--he always is. 

"Why, is that so?" said poppa, looking earnestly at Mrs. Portheris andfirmly retaining her hand. "Is this my very own Aunt Caroline?"

"At one time, " responded Mrs. Portheris with a difficult smile, "and, Ifear, by marriage only. "

"Ah, to be sure, to be sure! Poor Uncle Jimmy gave place to another. Butwe won't say anything more about that. Especially as you've been equallyunfortunate with your second, " said poppa sympathetically. "Well, I'msure I'm pleased to meet you--glad to shake you by the hand. " He gavethat member one more pressure as he spoke and relinquished it. 

"It is extremely unlooked for, " replied his Aunt Caroline, and looked atMr. Dod, who quailed, as if he were in some way responsible for it. "Iconfess I am not in the habit of meeting my connections promiscuouslyabroad. " When we came to analyse the impropriety of this it wasdifficult, but we felt as a family very disreputable at the time. Mr. Dod radiated sympathy for us. Poppa looked concerned. 

"The fact is, " said he, "we ought to have called on you at your Londonresidence, Aunt Caroline. And if we had been able to make a moreprotracted stay than just about long enough, as you might say, to seewhat time it was, we would have done so. But you see how it was. "

"Pray don't mention it, " said Mrs. Portheris. "It is very unlikely thatI should have been at home. "

"Then _that's_ all right, " poppa replied with relief. 

"London has so many monuments, " murmured Dicky Dod, regarding Mrs. Portheris's impressive back. "It is quite impossible to visit them all. "

"The view from here, " our relation remarked in a leave-taking tone, "isvery beautiful, is it not?"

"It's very extensive, " replied poppa, "but I notice the inhabitantsround about seem to think it embraces the biggest part of civilisation. I admit it's a good-sized view, but that's what I call enlarging uponit. "

"Come, Mr. Dod, " commanded Mrs. Portheris, "we must rejoin the rest ofour party. They are on the other side. "

"Certainly, " said Dicky. "But you must give me your address, Mrs. Wick. Thanks. And there now! I've been away from Illinois a good long time, but I'm not going to forget to congratulate Chicago on getting you oncemore into the United States Senate, Mr. Wick. I did what I could in myhumble way, you know. "

"I _know_ you did, Richard, " returned poppa warmly, "and if there's anylittle Consulship in foreign parts that it would amuse you to fill----"

Mrs. Portheris, in the act of exchanging unemotional farewells withmamma, turned round. "Do I understand that you are now a _Senator_?" sheinquired. "I had no idea of it. It is certainly a distinction--anAmerican distinction, of course--but you can't help that. It does youcredit. I trust you will use your influence to put an end to theMormons. "

"As far as that goes, " poppa returned with deprecation, "I believe mybusiness does take me to the Capitol pretty regularly now. But I'd besorry to think any more of myself on that account. Your nephew, AuntCaroline, is just the same plain American he was before. "

"I hope you will vote to exterminate them, " continued Mrs. Portheriswith decision. "Dear me! A Senator--I suppose you must have a great dealof influence in your own country! Ah, here are the truants! We might allgo down in the lift together. "

The truants appeared looking conscious. One of them, when he saw me, looked astonished as well, and I cannot say that I myself was perfectlyunmoved when I realised that it was Mr. Mafferton! There was no reasonwhy Mr. Mafferton should not have been at the top of the Eiffel Tower inthe society of Mrs. Portheris, Mr. Dod, and another, that afternoon, butfor the moment it seemed to me uniquely amazing. We shook hands, however--it was the only thing to do--and Mr. Mafferton said this wasindeed a surprise as if it were the most ordinary thing possible. Mrs. Portheris looked on at our greeting with an air of objecting to thingsshe had not been taught to expect, and remarked that she had no idea Mr. Mafferton was one of my London acquaintances. "But then, " she continuedin a tone of just reproach, "I saw so little of you during your seasonin town that you might have made the Queen's acquaintance and all theRoyal Family, and I should have been none the wiser. "

It was too much to expect of one's momma that she should let anopportunity like that slip, and mine took hold of it with both hands. 

"I believe my daughter did make Victoria's acquaintance, Mrs. Portheris, " said she, "and we were all very pleased about it. Your Queenhas a very good reputation in our country. We think her a wise sovereignand a perfect lady. I suppose you often go to her Drawing Rooms. "

Mrs. Portheris wore the expression of one passing through the Stone Ageto a somewhat more mobile period. "I really think, " she said, "I shouldhave been made aware of that. To have had a young relative presentedwithout one's knowledge seems _too_ extraordinary. No, " she continued, turning to poppa, "the only thing I heard of this young lady--it came tome in a _very_ roundabout manner--was that she had gone home to be_married_. Was not that your intention?" asked Mrs. Portheris, turningto me. 

"It was, " I said. There was nothing else to say. 

"Then may I inquire if you fulfilled it?"

"I didn't, Mrs. Portheris, " said I. I was very red, but not so red asMr. Mafferton. "Circumstances interfered. " I was prepared for an inquiryas to what the circumstances were, and privately made up my mind thatMrs. Portheris was too distant a relation to be gratified with suchinformation in the publicity of the Eiffel Tower. But she merely lookedat me with suspicion, and said it was much better that young peopleshould discover their unsuitability to one another before marriage thanafter. "I can conceive nothing more shocking than divorce, " said Mrs. Portheris, and her tone indicated that I had probably narrowly escapedit. 

We were rather a large party as we made our way to the elevator, and Ifound myself behind the others in conversation with Dicky Dod. It was ahappiness to come thus unexpectedly upon Dicky Dod--he gave forth allthat is most exhilarating in our democratic civilisation, and he was inexcellent spirits. As the young lady of Mrs. Portheris's party joined usI thought I found a barometric reading in Mr. Dod's countenance thatexplained the situation. "I remember you, " she said shyly, and there wassomething in this innocent audacity and the blush which accompanied itthat helped me to remember her too. "You came to see mamma in HalfMoon-street once. I am Isabel. "

"Dear me!" I replied, "so you are. I remember--you had to go upstairs, hadn't you. Please don't mind, " I went on hastily as Isabel lookeddistressed, "you couldn't help it. I was very unexpected, and I mighthave been dangerous. How--how you've _grown_!" I really couldn't thinkof anything else to say. 

Isabel blushed again, Dicky observing with absorbed adoration. It _was_lovely colour. "You know I haven't really, " she said, "it's all one'slong frocks and doing up one's hair, you know. "

"Miss Portheris only came out two months ago, " remarked Mr. Dod, withthe effect of announcing that Venus had just arisen from the foam. 

"Come, young people, " Mrs. Portheris exclaimed from the lift; "we arewaiting for you. " Poppa and momma and Mr. Mafferton were already inside. Mrs. Portheris stood in the door. As Isabel entered, I saw that Mr. Dodwas making the wildest efforts to communicate something to me with hisleft eye. 

"Come, young people, " repeated Mrs. Portheris. 

"Do you think it's safe for so many?" asked Dicky doubtfully. "Supposeanything should _give_, you know!"

Mrs. Portheris looked undecided. Momma, from the interior, immediatelyproposed to get out. 

"Safe as a church, " remarked the Senator. 

"What _do_ you mean, Dod?" demanded Mr. Mafferton. 

"Well, it's like this, " said Dicky; "Miss Wick is rather nervous aboutovercrowding, and I think it's better to run no risks myself. You all godown, and we'll follow you next trip. See?"

"I suppose you will hardly allow _that_, Mrs. Wick, " said our relation, with ominous portent. 

"_Est ce que vous voulez à déscendre, monsieur?_" inquired the officialattached to the elevator, with some impatience. 

"I don't see what there is to object to--I suppose it _would_ be safer, "momma replied anxiously, and the official again demanded if we weregoing down. 

"Not this trip, thank you, " said Dicky, and turned away. Mrs. Portheris, who had taken her seat, rose with dignity. "In that case, " said she, "Ialso will remain at the top;" but her determination arrived too late. With a ferocious gesture the little official shut the door and gave thesignal, and Mrs. Portheris sank earthwards, a vision of outragedpropriety. I felt sorry for momma. 

"And now, " I inquired of Mr. Dod, "why was the elevator not safe?"

"I'll tell you, " said Dicky. "Do you know Mrs. Portheris well?"

"Very slightly indeed, " I replied. 

"Not well enough to--sort of chum up with our party, I suppose. "

"Not for worlds, " said I. 

Dicky looked so disconsolate that I was touched. 

"Still, " I said, "you'd better trot out the circumstances, Dicky. Wehaven't forgotten what you did in your humble way, you know, at electiontime. I can promise for the family that we'll do anything we can. Youmustn't ask us to poison her, but we might lead her into the influenza. "

"It's this way, " said Mr. Dod. "How remarkably contracted the Place dela Concorde looks down there, doesn't it! It's like looking through thewrong end of an opera glass. "

"I've observed that, " I said. "It won't be fair to keep them waiting_very_ long down there on the earth, you know, Dicky. "

"Certainly not! Well, as I was saying, your poppa's Aunt Caroline is aperfect fiend of a chaperone. By Jove, Mamie, let's be silhouetted!"

"Poppa was silhouetted, " I said, "and the artist turned him out theimage of Senator Frye. Now he doesn't resemble Senator Frye in the leastdegree. The elevator is ascending, Richard. "

Richard blushed and looked intently at the horizon beyond Montmartre. 

"You see, between Miss Portheris and me, it's this way, " he beganrecklessly, but with the vision before my eyes of momma on the stepsbelow wanting her tea, I cut him short. 

"So far as you are concerned, Dicky, I see the way it is, " I interposedsympathetically. "The question is----"

"Exactly. So it is. About Isabel. But I can't find out. It seems to beso difficult with an English girl. Doesn't seem to think such a thing asa--a proposal exists. Now an American girl is just as ready----"

"Richard, " I interrupted severely, "the circumstances do not requireinternational comparisons. By the way, how do you happen to betravelling with--with Mr. Mafferton?"

"That's exactly where it comes in, " Mr. Dod exclaimed luminously. "You'dthink, the way Mafferton purrs round the old lady, he'd been a friend ofthe family from the beginning of time! Fact is, he met them two daysbefore they left London. _I_ had known them a good month, and thevenerable one seemed to take to me considerably. There wasn't a cab shewouldn't let me call, nor a box at the theatre she wouldn't occupy, nora supper she wouldn't try to enjoy. Used to ask me to tea. Inquiredwhether I was High or Low. That was awful, because I had to chance it, being Congregational, but I hit it right--she's Low, too, strong. Isabelalways made the tea out of a canister the old lady kept locked. Singularhabit that, locking tea up in a canister. "

"You are wandering, Dicky, " I said. "And Isabel used to ask you whetheryou would have muffins or brown bread and butter--I know. Go on. "

"Girls _have_ intuition, " remarked Mr. Dod with a glance of admirationwhich I discounted with contempt. "Well, then old Mafferton turned uphere a week ago. Since then I haven't been waltzing in as I did before. Old lady seems to think there's a chance of keeping the family pureEnglish--seems to think she'd like it better--see? At least, I take itthat way; he's cousin to a lord, " Dick added dejectedly, "and you knowfinancially I've been coming through a cold season. "

"It's awkward, " I admitted, "but old ladies of no family are like thatover here. I know Mrs. Portheris is an old lady of no family, becauseshe's a connection of ours, you see. What about Isabel? Can't you tellthe least bit?"

"How can a fellow? She blushes just as much when he speaks to her aswhen I do. "

"But are you quite sure, " I asked delicately, "whether Mr. Maffertonis--interested?"

"There's the worst kind of danger of it, " Dicky replied impressively. "Idon't know whether I ought to tell you, but the fact is Mafferton's justgot the sack--I beg your pardon--just been _congéed_ himself. They sayshe was an American and it was a bad case; she behaved mostunfeelingly. "

"You shouldn't believe all you hear, " I said, "but I don't see what thathas to do with it. "

"Why, he's just in the mood to console himself. What fellow would thinktwice of being thrown over, if Miss Portheris were the alternative!"

"It depends, Dicky, " I observed. "You are jumping at conclusions. "

"What I hoped, " he went on regretfully as we took our places in theelevator, "was that we might travel together a bit and that you wouldn'tmind just now and then taking old Mafferton off our hands, you know. "

"Dicky, " I said, as we swiftly descended, "here is our itinerary. Genoa, you see, then Pisa, Rome, Naples, Rome again, Florence, Venice, Verona, up through the lakes to Switzerland, and so on. We leaveto-morrow. If we _should_ meet again, I don't promise to undertake itpersonally, but I'll see what momma can do. "

[Illustration: Breakfast with Dicky Dod. ]

CHAPTER VIII. 

Poppa said as we steamed out of Paris that night that the Presidencyitself would not induce him to reside there, and I think he meant it. Idon't know whether the omnibus _numeros_ and the _correspondances_ whereyou change, or the men sitting staring on the side walks drinking thingsfor hours at a time, or getting no vegetables to speak of with hisjoint, annoyed him most, but he was very decided in his views. Momma andI were not quite so certain; we had a guilty sense of ingratitude whenwe thought of the creations in the van; but the cobblestones biassedmomma a good deal, who hoped she should get some sleep in Italy. I hadbreakfasted that morning in the most amusing way with Dicky Dod at a_café_ in the Champs Elysées--poppa and momma had an engagement with Mr. And Mrs. Malt and couldn't come--and in the leniency of the recollectionI said something favourable about the Arc de Triomphe at sunset; but Igathered from the Senator's remarks that, while the sunset was fineenough, he didn't see the propriety in using it that way as a backgroundfor Napoleon Bonaparte, so to speak. 

"Result is, " said the Senator, "the intelligent foreigner's got prettynearly to go out of the town to see a sunset without having to thinkabout Aboukir and Alexandria. But that's Paris all over. There isn't astreet, or a public building, or a statue, or a fountain, or a thingthat doesn't shout at you, 'Look at me! Think about me! Your admirationor your life!' Those Frenchmen don't mind it because it only repeatswhat they're always saying themselves, but if you're a foreigner it getson your nerves. That city is too uniformly fine to be of much use tome--it keeps me all the time wondering why I'm not in one eternal goodhumour to match. There's good old London now--always looks, I shouldthink, just as you feel. Looks like history, too, and change, andcontrast, and the different varieties of the human lot. "

"I see what you mean, poppa, " I said. "There's too much equality inParis, isn't there--to be interesting, " but the Senator was too deeplyengaged in getting out momma's smelling salts to corroborate thisinterpretation. 

It is a very long way to Genoa if you don't stop at Aix-les-Bains oranywhere--twenty-four hours--but Mont Cenis occurs in the night, whichis suitable in a tunnel. There came a chill through the darkness thatstruck to one's very marrow, and we all rose with one accord and gropedabout for more rugs. When broad daylight came it was Savoy, and werealised what we had been through. The Senator was inclined to deploremissing the realisation of the Mont Cenis, and it was only when mommasaid it was a pity he hadn't taken a train that would have brought usthrough in the daytime and enabled him to examine it, that he ceased toexpress regret. My parents are often vehicles of philosophy for eachother. 

Besides, in the course of the morning the Senator acknowledged that hegot more tunnels than he had any idea he had paid for. They came with aprecipitancy that interfered immensely with any connected idea of thescenery, though momma, in my interest, did her best to form one. "Note, my love, " she said, as we began to penetrate the frontier country, "thatmajestic blue summit on the horizon to the left"--obliteration, andanother tunnel! "_Don't_ miss that jagged line of snows just beyond theback of poppa's head, dear one. Quick! they are melting away!"--but thenext tunnel was quicker. "Put down that the dazzling purity of theselovely peaks must be realised, for it cannot be"--darkness, and theblight of another tunnel. It was very hard on momma's imagination, andshe finally accepted the Senator's warning that it would be throwncompletely out of gear if she went on, and abandoned the attempt to formcomplete sentences between tunnels. It was much simpler to exclaim"Splendid!" or "Glorious!" which one could generally do without beinginterrupted. 

We were not prepared to enjoy anything when we arrived at Genoa, butthere was Christopher Columbus in bronze, just outside the station in alittle place by himself, and we felt bound to give him our attentionbefore we went any further. He was patting America on the head, both ofthem life size, and carrying on that historical argument with hissailors in bas-relief below; and he looked a very fine character. Aspoppa said, he was just the man you would pick out to discover America. The Senator also remarked that you could see from the position of thestatue, right there in full view of the travelling public, that theGenoese thought a lot of Columbus; relied upon him, in fact, as theirbiggest attraction. Momma examined him from the carriage. She said itwas most gratifying to see him there in his own home, so to speak; buther enthusiasm did not induce her to get out. Momma's patriotism hasalways to be considered in connection with the state of her nerves. 

The state of all our nerves was healed in a quarter of an hour. TheSenator showed his coupons somewhat truculently, but they were receivedas things of price with disarming bows and real gladness. We were ledthrough rambling passages into lofty white chambers, with marble floorsand iron bedsteads, full of simplicity and cleanliness, where we removedall recollections of Paris without being obliged to consider a stuffycarpet or satin-covered furniture. Italy, in the persons of the_portier_ and the chambermaid, laid hold of us with intelligible smiles, and we were charmed. Inside, the place was full of long free lines andcool polished surfaces, and pleasant curves. Outside, a thick-frondedpalm swayed in the evening wind against a climbing hill of many-tinted, many-windowed houses, in all the soft colours we knew of before. Whenthe _portier_ addressed momma as "Signora" her cup of bliss ran over, and she made up her mind that she felt able, after all, to go down todinner. 

Remembering their sentiments, we bowed as slightly as possible when wesaw the Miss Binghams across the table, and the Senator threw that intohis voice, as he inquired how they liked _la belle Italie_ so far, andwhether they had had any trouble with their trunks coming in, whichmight have given them to understand that his politeness was veryperfunctory. If they perceived it, they allowed it to influence them theother way, however. They asked, almost as cordially as if we weremiddle-class English people, whether we had actually survived that tripto Versailles, and forbore to comment when we said we had enjoyed it, beyond saying that if there was one enviable thing it was the Americancapacity for pleasure. Yet one could see quite plainly that the vacuumcaused by the absence of the American capacity for pleasure was filledin their case by something very superior to it. 

"This city new to you?" asked the Senator as the meal progressed. 

"In a _sense_, yes, " replied Miss Nancy Bingham. 

"We've never _studied_ it before, " said Miss Cora. 

"I suppose it has a fascination all its own, " remarked momma. 

"Oh, rather!" exclaimed Miss Nancy Bingham, and I reflected that whenshe was in England she must have seen a great deal of school-boysociety. I decided at once, noting its effect upon the lips of amiddle-aged maiden lady, that momma must not be allowed to pick up theexpression. 

"It's simply full of associations of old families--the Dorias, thePallavicinis, the Durazzos, " remarked Miss Cora. "Do you gloat on themedieval?"

"We're perfectly prepared to, " said the Senator. "I believe we've gotboth Murray and Baedeker for this place. Now do you commit your facts tomemory before going to bed the night previous, or do you learn them upas you go along?"

"Oh, " said Miss Nancy Bingham, "we are of the opinion that one shouldalways visit these places with a mind prepared. Though I myself have noobjection to carrying a guide-book, provided it is covered with brownpaper. "

"Then you acquire it all beforehand, " commented the Senator. "That, Imust say, is commendable of you. And it's certainly the onlybusiness-like way of proceeding. The amount of time a person losesfooling over Baedeker on the spot----"

"One of us does, " acknowledged Miss Nancy. "We take it in turns. And Imust say it is generally my sister. " And she turned to Miss Cora, whoblushed and said, "How can you, Nancy!"

"And you use her, for that particular public building or historicscene, as a sort of portable, self-acting reference library, " remarkedpoppa. "That's an idea that commends itself to me, daughter, inconnection with you. "

I was about to reply in terms of deprecation, when a confusion of sounddrifted in from the street, of arriving cabs and expostulating voices. The Miss Binghams looked at each other in consternation and said withone accord, "It _was_ the _Fulda_!"

"Was it?" inquired poppa. "Do you refer to the German Lloyd steamship ofthat name?"

"We do, " said Miss Nancy. "About an hour ago we were sure we saw hersteaming into the harbour. "

"She comes from New York, I suppose, " momma remarked. 

"She does indeed, " said Miss Nancy, "and she's been lying at the docksunloading Americans ever since she arrived. And here they are. Cora, have you finished?"

Cora said she had, and without further parley the ladies rose andrustled away. Their invading fellow-countrymen gratefully took theirplaces, and the Senator sent a glance of scorn after them strong enoughto make them turn round. After dinner, we saw a collection of cabintrunks and valises standing in the entrance hall labelled BINGHAM, and knew that Miss Nancy and Miss Cora were again in flight before theNemesis of the American Eagle. I will not repeat poppa's sentiments. 

On the hotel doorstep next morning waited Alessandro Bebbini. He waitedfor us--an hour and a half, because momma had some re-packing to do andwe were going on next day. Nobody had asked him to wait, but he had acarriage ready and the look of having been ordered three monthspreviously. He presented his card to the Senator, who glanced at him andsaid, "Do I _look_ as if I wanted a shave?"

Alessandro Bebbini smiled--an olive flash of pity and amusement. "I makenot the shava, Signore, " he said, "I am the courier--for your kinddispositione I am here. "

"You should _never_ judge foreigners by their appearance, Alexander, "rebuked momma. 

"Well, Mr. Bebbini, " said the Senator, "I guess I've got to apologise toyou. You see they told me inside there that I should probably find a--atonsorial artist out here on the steps"--poppa never minds telling astory to save people's feelings. "But you haven't convinced me, " hecontinued, "that I've got any use for a courier. "

"You wish see Genoa--is it not?"

"Well, yes, " replied the Senator, "it is. "

"Then with me you come alonga. I will translate you the city--shoppia, pallass--w'at you like. Also I am not dear man neither. In the seasonyes. Then I am very dear. But now is nobody. "

"What does your time cost to buy?" demanded poppa. 

"Very cheap price. Two francs one hour. Ten francs one day. But if withyou I travel, make arrangimento, you und'stan', look for traina--'otel, _biglietto, bagaglia_--then I am so little you laugh. Two 'undred francthe month!" and Alessandro indicated with every muscle of his body theamazement he expected us to feel. 

The Senator turned to the ladies of his family. "Now that I think ofit, " he said, "travels in Italy are never written without a courier. People wouldn't believe they were authentic. And Bramley said if youreally wanted to enjoy yourself it was folly not to engage one. "

"I suppose there's more _choice_ in the season, " said momma, glancingdisapprovingly at Alessandro's swarthy collar. "And I confess I shouldhave expected them to be garbed more picturesquely. "

"Look at his language, " I remarked. "You can't have everything. "

The Senator said that was so. "I believe you can come along, Mr. Bebbini, " he said; "we're strangers here and we'll get you to help us toenjoy ourselves for a month on the terms you name. You can begin rightaway. "

Alessandro bowed and waved us to the carriage. It was only the ordinarycommercial bow of Italy, but I could see that it made a difference tomomma. He saw us seated and was climbing on the box when poppainterfered. "There's no use trying to work it that way, " he said; "wecan't ask you to twist your head off every time you emit a piece ofinformation. Besides, there's no sense in your riding on the box whenthere's an extra seat. You won't crowd us any, Mr. Bebbini, and I guesswe can refrain from discussing family matters for _one_ hour. "

So we started, with Mr. Bebbini at short range. 

"I think, " said he, "you lika first off the 'ouse of CristoforoColombo. "

"I don't see how you knew, " said poppa, "but you are perfectly correct. Cristoforo was one of the most distinguished Americans on the roll ofhistory, and we, also, are Americans. At once, at once to the habitationof Cristoforo. "

Alessandro leaned forward impressively. 

"Who informa you Cristoforo Colombo was Americano? Better you don'tbelieve these other guide--ignoranta fella. Cristoforo was Genoa man, born here, you und'stan'? Italiano. Only live in America a lill'w'ile--to discover, you und'stan'?"

"Mr. Bebbini, " said poppa, "if you go around contradicting Americans onthe subject of Christopher Columbus your business will decrease. As amatter of fact, Christopher wasn't born, he was made, and America madehim. He has every right to claim to be considered an American, and itwas a little careless of him not to have founded a family there. We makeexcuses for him--it's quite true he had very little time at hisdisposal--but we feel it, the whole nation of us, to this day. "

The Via Balbi was cheerfully crooked and crowded, it had the modernnote of the street car, and the mediæval one of old women, arms akimbo, in the nooks and recesses, selling big black cherries and bursting figs. Even the old women though, as momma complained, wore postilion basquesand bell skirts, certainly in an advanced stage of usefulness, but ofunmistakable genesis--just what had been popular in Chicago a year ortwo before. 

"Really, my love, " said momma, "I don't know _what_ we shall do fordescription in Genoa, the people seem to wear no clothes worthmentioning whatever. " We concluded that all the city's characteristicallyItalian garments were in the wash; they depended in novel cut and colourfrom every window that did not belong to a bank or a university; andsometimes, when the side street was narrow and the houses high, the effectwas quite imposing. Poppa asked Alessandro Bebbini whether they wereexpecting royalty or anything, or whether it was like this every washingday, and we gathered that there was nothing unusual about it. But poppasaid I had better mention it so that people might be prepared. Personally, I rather liked the display, it gave such unexpected colour and incident tothose high-shouldering, narrow by-ways we looked down into from the upperlevel of the Via Balbi, where only here and there the sun strove through, and all the rest was a rich toned mystery; but there may be others likemomma, who prefer the clothes line of the Occident and the privacy of theback yard. 

The two sides of the _Via Poverina_ almost touched foreheads. "Yes, "said Alessandro Bebbini apologetically, "it is a _ver'_ tight street. "

Poppa was extremely pleased with the appearance of the house ofChristopher Columbus, which Alessandro pointed out in the Via Assorotti. It was a comfortable looking edifice, with stone giants supporting thearch of the doorway, in every respect suitable as the residence of aretired navigator of distinction. Poppa said it was very gratifying tofind that Cristoforo had been able, in his declining years, when he wasour only European representative, to keep his end up with credit toAmerica. 

You so often found the former abodes of glorious names with a modernrental out of all proportion with their historic interest. This house, poppa calculated, would let to-day at a figure discreditable neither toCristoforo himself, nor to the United States of America. Mr. Bebbini, unfortunately, could not tell him what that figure was. 

On the steps of San Lorenzo Cathedral momma paused and cast a searchingglance into all the corners. 

"Where are the beggars?" she inquired, not without injury. "I have_always_ been given to understand that church entrances in Italy weredisgracefully thronged with beggars of the lowest type. I have neverseen a picture of a sacred building without them!"

"So that was why you wanted so much small change, Augusta, " said theSenator. "Mr. Bebbini says there's a law against them nowadays. Now thatyou mention it, I'm disappointed there too. Municipal progress in Italyis something you've not prepared for somehow. I daresay if we only knewit, they're thinking of lighting this town with electricity, and theBoard of Aldermen are considering contracts for cable cars. "

"Do not inquire, Alexander, " begged momma, but the Senator had fallenbehind with Mr. Bebbini in earnest conversation, and we gathered thatits import was entirely modern. 

It was our first Italian church and it was impressive, for a Presidentof the French Republic had just fallen to the knife of an Italianassassin, and from the altar to the door San Lorenzo was in mourning andin penance. Masses for his soul's repose had that day been said andsung; near the door hung a request for the prayers of all goodChristians to this end. Many of the grave-eyed people that came and wentwere doubtless about this business, but one, I know, was there on aprivate errand. He prayed at a chapel aside, kneeling on the floorbeside the railings, his cap in his hands, grasping it just as thepeasant in The Angelus grasps his. Inside the altar hung a picture of apitying woman, and there were candles and foolish flowers of tinsel, butbeside these, many tokens of hearts, gold and silver, thick below thealtar, crowding the partition walls. The hearts were gratefulones--Alessandro explained in an undertone--brought and left by manywho had been preserved from violent death by the saint there, and he whoknelt was a workman just from hospital, who had fallen, with his son, from a building. The boy had been killed, the father only badly hurt. His heart token was the last--a little common thing--and tied with norejoiceful ribbon but with a scrap of crape. I hoped Heaven would seethe crape as well as the tribute. When we went away he was stillkneeling in his patched blue cotton clothes, and as the saint had verybeautiful kind eyes, and all the tinsel flowers were standing in theglowing light of stained glass, and the voice of the Church had begun tospeak too, through the organ, I daresay he went away comforted. 

Momma says there is only one thing she recollects clearly about SanLorenzo, and that is the Chapel of St. John the Baptist. This does notremain in her memory because of the _Cinquecento_ screen or thealtar-canopy's porphyry pillars which we know we must have seen becausethe guide-book says they are there, but because of the fact that PopeInnocent the Eighth had it closed to our sex for a long time, except onone day of the year, on account of Herodias. Momma considered thisextremely invidious of Innocent the Eighth, and said it was a thing noman except a Pope would have thought of doing. What annoyed poppa wasthat she seemed to hold Alessandro Bebbini responsible, and covered himwith reproaches, in the guise of argument, which he neither deserved norunderstood. And when poppa suggested that she was probably as much toblame for Herodias's conduct as Mr. Bebbini was for the Pope's, she saidthat had nothing whatever to do with it, and she thanked Heaven she wasborn a Protestant anyway, distinctly implying that Herodias was a RomanCatholic. And if poppa didn't wish her back to give out altogether, would he please return to the carriage. 

We wandered through a palace or two and thought how interesting it musthave been to be rich in the days of "Sir Horatio Palavasene, who robbedthe Pope to pay the Queen. " Wealth had its individuality in those days, and expressed itself with truth and splendour in sculpture, and picture, and tapestry, and precious things, with the picturesqueness of contrastand homage. As the Senator said, a banquet hall did not then suggest aFifth Avenue hairdresser's saloon. But now the Genoese merchant-princeswould find that their state had lost its identity in machine madeimitations, and that it would be more distinguished to be poor, sincepoverty is never counterfeited. But poppa declined to go as far as that. 

Alessandro, as we drove round and up the winding roads that take one tothe top of Genoa--the hotels and the palaces and the churches are mostlyat the bottom--was full of joyous and rapid information. Especially didhe continue to be communicative on the subject of Christopher Columbus, and if we are not now assured of the school that discoverer attended inhis youth, and the altar rails before which he took the first communionof his early manhood, and the occupation of his wife's parents, andmany other matters concerning him, it is the fault of history and notthat of Alessandro Bebbini. After a cathedral and a palace and a longdrive, this was bound to have its effect, and I very soon saw resentmentin the demeanour of both my parents. So much so, that when we passed thefamily group in memory of Mazzini, and Alessandro explained dramaticallythat "the daughter he sitta down and cryo because his father is a-dead, "poppa said, "Is that so?" without the faintest show of excitement, andmomma declined even to look round. 

It was not until the evening, however, when we were talking to someMilwaukee people, that we remembered, with the assistance of Baedekerand the Milwaukee people, a number of facts about Columbus that deprivedAlessandro's information of its commercial value, while leaving hisingenuity, so to speak, at par. The Senator was so much annoyed, as hehad made a special note of the state of preservation in which he hadfound the dwelling of our discoverer, that he had recourse to the mostunscrupulous means of relieving us of Alessandro--who was to presenthimself next morning at eleven. He wrote an impulsive letter to "A. Bebbini, Esq. , " which ran:

 "SIR: I find that we are too credulous a family to travel in safety with a courier. When you arrive at the hotel to-morrow, therefore, you will discover that we have fled by an earlier train. We take it from no personal objection to your society, but from a rooted and unconquerable objection to brass facts. I enclose your month's salary and a warning that any attempt to follow me will be fruitless and expensive. "

 "Yours truly, " "J. P. WICK. "

The Senator assured me afterwards that this was absolutelynecessary--that A. Bebbini, if we introduced him in any quantity, wouldruin the sale of our work, and if he accompanied us it would beimpossible to keep him out. He said we ought to apologize for havingeven mentioned him in a book of travels which we hope to see takenseriously. And we do. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Momma wishes me to state that the word Italy, in any language, will forever be associated in her mind with the journey from Genoa to Pisa. Wehad our own lunch basket, so no baneful anticipation of cutlets fried inolive oil marred the perfect satisfaction with which we looked out ofthe windows. One window, almost the whole way, opened on a lowembankment which seemed a garden wall. Olives and lemon trees grewbeyond it and dropped over, and it was always dipping in the sunlight toshow us the roses and the shady walks of the villas inside, white andremote; now and then we saw the pillared end of a verandah or a plasterNeptune ruling a restricted fountain area. Out of the other windowstretched the blue Gulf of Genoa all becalmed and smiling, with freakishlittle points and headlines, and here and there the white blossom of asail. The Senator counted eighty tunnels--he wants that fact mentionedtoo--some of them so short that it was like shutting one's eyes for aninstant on the olives and the sea. Nevertheless it was an idyllicjourney, and at four o'clock in the afternoon we saw the Leaning Towerfrom afar, describing the precise angle that it does in the illustratedgeographies. Momma was charmed to recognise it, she blew it a kiss ofadulation and acclaim, while we yet wound about among the environs, andhailed it "Pisa!" It was as if she bowed to a celebrity, with the homagedue. 

What the Senator called our attention to as we drove to the hotel wasthe conspicuous part in municipal politics played by that little oldbrown river Arno. In most places the riparian feature of the landscapeis not insisted on--you have usually to go to the suburbs to find it, but in Pisa it is a sort of main street, with the town sittingcomfortably and equally on each side of it looking on. Momma and I bothliked the idea of a river in town scenery, and thought it might becopied with advantage in America, it afforded such a good excuse forbridges. Pisa's three arched stone ones made a reason for settling therein themselves in our opinion. The Senator, however, was against it onconservancy grounds, and asked us what we thought of the population ofPisa. And we had to admit that for the size of the houses there weren'tvery many people about. The Lungarno was almost empty except fordesolate cabmen, and they were just as eager and hospitable to us andour trunks as they had been in Genoa. 

In the Piazza del Duomo we expected the Cathedral, the Leaning Tower, the Baptistry, and the Campo Santo. We did not expect Mrs. Portheris; atleast, neither of my parents did--I knew enough about Dicky Dod not tobe surprised at any combination he might effect. There they all were inthe middle of the square bit of meadow, apparently waiting for us, butreally, I have no doubt, getting an impression of the architecture as awhole. I could tell from Mrs. Portheris's attitude that she hadacknowledged herself to be gratified. Strange to relate, hergratification did not disappear when she saw that these mediævalcircumstances would inconsistently compel her to recognise very modernAmerican connections. She approached us quite blandly, and I saw at oncethat Dicky Dod had been telling her that poppa's chances for thePresidency were considered certain, that the Spanish Infanta had stayedwith us while she was in Chicago at the Exhibition, and that we fed herfrom gold plate. It was all in Mrs. Portheris's manner. 

"Another unexpected meeting!" she exclaimed. "My dear Mrs. Wick, you_are_ looking worn out! Try my sal volatile--I insist!" and in thegeneral greeting momma was seen to back violently away from a longsilver bottle in every direction. Poppa had to interfere. "If it's allthe same to you, Aunt Caroline, " he said, "Mrs. Wick is quite as usual, though I think the Middle Agedness of this country is a little tryingfor her at this time of year. She's just a little upset this morning byseeing the cook plucking a rooster down in the backyard before he'dkilled it. The rooster was in great affliction, you see, and the way hecrowed got on momma's nerves. She's been telling us about it ever since. But we hope it will pass off. "

Mrs. Portheris expanded into that inevitable British story of theofficer who reported of certain tribes that they had no manners andtheir customs were abominable, and I, at a mute invitation from Dicky, stepped aside to get the angle of the Tower from a better point of view. 

Mr. Dod was depressed, so much so that he came to the point at once. "Ihope you had a good time in Genoa, " he said. "We should have been therenow, only I knew we should never catch up to you if we didn't skipsomething. So I heard of a case of cholera there, and didn't mentionthat it was last year. Quite enough for Her Ex. I say, though--it's nouse. "

"Isn't it?" said I. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty confoundedly certain. The British lion's getting there, in greatshape--the brute. All the widow's arranging. With the widow it's 'Mr. Dod, you will take care of _me_, won't you?' or 'Come now, Mr. Dod, andtell me all about buffalo shooting on your native prairies'--and Mr. Dodis a rattled jay. There's something about the mandate of a middle-agedBritish female. "

"I should think there was!" I said. 

"Then Maffy, you see, walks in. They don't seem to have muchconversation--she regularly brightens up when I come along and saysomething cheerful--but he's gradually making up his mind that the bestisn't any too good for him. "

"Perhaps we don't begin so well in America, " I interruptedthoughtfully. "But then, we don't develop into Mrs. P. 's either. "

Dicky seemed unable to follow my line of thought. "I must say, " he wenton resentfully, "I like--well, just a _smell_ of constancy about a man. A fellow that's thrown over ought to be in about the same shape as awidower. But not much Maffy. I tried to work up his feelings over theAmerican girl the other night--he was as calm!"

"Dicky, " said I, "there are subjects a man _must_ keep sacred. You mustnot speak to Mr. Mafferton of his first--attachment again. They never doit in England, except for purposes of fiction. "

"Well, I worked that racket all I knew. I even told him that Americangirls as often as not changed their minds. "

"_Richard!_ He will think I--what _will_ he think of American girls! Itwas excessively wrong of you to say that--I might almost call itcriminal!"

Dicky looked at me in pained surprise. "Look here, Mamie, " he said, "afellow in my fix, you know! Don't get excited. How am I going to confidein you unless you keep your hair on!"

"What, may I ask, did Mr. Mafferton say when you told him that?" I askedsternly. 

"He said--now you'll be madder than ever. I won't tell you. "

"Mr. Dod--Dicky, haven't we been friends from infancy!"

"Played with the same rattle. Cut our teeth together. "

"Well then----"

"Well then, " he said, "do you mind putting your parasol straight? I liketo see the person I'm talking to, and besides the sun is on the otherside. He said he didn't think it was a privilege that should be extendedto all cases. "

"He did, did he?" I rejoined calmly. "That's like the British--isn'tit?"

"It would have made such a complication if I'd kicked him, " confessedMr. Dod. 

The Senator, momma, and Mrs. Portheris stood in the cathedral door. Isabel and Mr. Mafferton occupied the middle distance. Mr. Maffertonstooped to add a poppy to a slender handful of wild flowers he held outto her. Isabel was looking back. 

"It will be pleasant inside the Duomo, " I said. "Let us go on. I feelwarm. I agree with you that the situation is serious, Dicky. Look atthose poppies! When an Englishman does that you may make up your mind tothe worst. But I don't think anybody need have the slightest respect forthe affections of Mr. Mafferton. "

Inside the Duomo it was pleasant, and cool, and there was a dimreligious light that gave one an opportunity for reflection. I was somuch engaged in reflection that I failed to notice the shape of theDuomo, but I have since learned that it was a basilica, in the form ofa Latin cross, and was simply full of things which should have claimedmy attention. Momma took copious notes from which I see that the Madonnaand Child holy water basin was perfectly sweet, and the episcopal throneby Uervellesi in 1536 was the finest piece of tarsia work in the world, and the large bronze hanging lamp by Vincenzo Possento was the objectwhich assisted Galileo to invent the oscillations of the pendulum. TheSenator was much taken with the inlaid wooden stalls in the choir, thesubjects were so lively. He and his Aunt Caroline nearly came to wordsover a monkey regarding its reflection in a looking glass, done with arealism which Mrs. Portheris considered little short of profane, butwhich poppa found quite an excusable filip to devotions which must havebeen such an all day business in the sixteenth century. Outside, however, poppa found it difficult to approve the façade. To throw fourgalleries over the street door, he said, with no visible means ofgetting into them or possible object for sitting there, was about themost ridiculous waste of building space he had yet observed. 

"But then, " said Dicky Dod, who kept his disconsolate place by my side, "they didn't seem to know how to waste enough in those pre-elevatordays. Look at the pictures and the bronzes and the marble columns insidethere--ten times as much as they had any use for. They just heaped itup. "

"That's so, Dicky, my boy, " replied poppa; "we could cover more groundwith the money in our century. But you've got to remember that theyhadn't any other way worth mentioning of spending the taxes. Religion, so to speak, was the boss contractor's only line. "

Dicky remarked that it had to be admitted he worked it on the square, and momma said that no doubt people built as well as they knew how atthat time, but nothing should induce her to add her weight to the top ofthe Leaning Tower. 

"It is very remarkable and impressive, " said momma, "the idea of itshanging over that way all these centuries, just on the drop and neverdropping, but who knows that it may not come down this very day!"

"My dear niece, if I may call you so, " remarked Mrs. Portheris urbanely, "it was thus that the builders designed this great monument to stand; inits inclination lies the triumph of their art. "

"I can't say I agree with you there, Aunt Caroline, " said poppa; "thattower was never meant to stand crooked. It's a very serious defect, andif it happened nowadays, it would justify any Municipal Board inrepudiating the contract. Even those fellows, you see, were too sick togo on with it, in every case. Begun by Bonanus 1174. Bonanus saw whatwas going to happen and gave it up at the third storey. Then Benenatohad _his_ show, got it up to four, and quit, 1203. The next architectwas--let me see--William of Innsbruck. He put on a couple more, and bythat time it began to look dangerous. But nothing happened from 1260 to1350, and it struck Tomaso Pisano that nothing would happen. He riskedit anyhow, ran up another storey, put the roof on, and came in for thecredit of the whole miracle. I expect Tomaso is at the bottom of thatidea of yours, Aunt Caroline. He would naturally give the reporters thatview. "

Mrs. Portheris listened with a tolerance as badly put on as any garmentshe was wearing. "I do not usually make assertions, " she said when poppahad finished, "without being convinced of the facts, " and I became awarefor the first time that her upper lip wore a slight moustache. 

"Well, you'll excuse me, Aunt Caroline----"

"All my life I have heard of the Leaning Tower of Pisa as a feat ofarchitecture, " replied his Aunt Caroline firmly. "I do not propose tohave that view disturbed now. "

"Perhaps it _was_ so, my dear love, " put in momma deprecatingly, and Mr. Dod, with a frenzied wink at poppa, called his attention to theridiculous Pisan habit of putting immovable fringed carriage-tops oncabs. 

"It undoubtedly was, " said Mrs. Portheris, with an embattled front. 

"But--Great Scott, aunt!" exclaimed poppa, recklessly, "think what thisplace was like--all marsh, with the sea right alongside; not four milesoff as it is now. Why, you couldn't base so much as a calculation onit!"

"I must say, " said Mrs. Portheris in severe surprise, "I knew thatAmerica had made great advances in the world of invention, but I did notexpect to find what looks much like jealousy of the achievements of anolder civilisation. "

The Senator looked at his aunt, then he put his hat further back on hishead and cleared his throat. I prepared for the worst, and the worstwould undoubtedly have come if Dicky Dod had not suddenly rememberedhaving seen a man with a foreign telegram looking for somebody in theCathedral. 

"It's a feat!" reiterated Mrs. Portheris as the Senator left us inpursuit of the man with the telegram. 

"It's fourteen feet, " cried the Senator from a safe distance, "out ofthe perpendicular!" and left us to take the consequences. 

CHAPTER X. 

When momma reported to me Mrs. Portheris's proposition that we shouldmake the rest of our Continental trip as one undivided party, I found itdifficult to understand. 

"These sudden changes of temperature, " I remarked, "are trying to theconstitution. Why this desire for the society of three unabashedAmericanisms like ourselves?"

"That's just what I wondered, " said momma. "For you can _see_ that sheis full of insular prejudice against our great country. She makes noattempt to disguise it. "

"She never did, " I assented. 

"She said it seemed so extraordinary--quite providential--meetingrelatives abroad in this way, " momma continued, "and she thought weought to follow it up. "

"Are we going to?" I inquired. 

"My goodness gracious no, love! There are some things my nerves cannotstand the strain of, and one of them is your poppa's Aunt Caroline. TheSenator smoothed it over. He said he was sure we were very muchobliged, but our time was limited, and he thought we could get aroundfaster alone. "

"Well, " I said, "I do not understand it, unless Dicky has persuaded herthat poppa is to be our next ambassador to St. James's. "

"She was too silly about Dicky, " said momma. "She said she really wasafraid, before you appeared, that young Mr. Dod was conceiving anattachment for her Isabel, whose affections lay _quite_ in anotherdirection; but now her mind was entirely at rest. I don't remember herwords, she uses so many, but she was trying to hint that poor Dicky wasan admirer of _yours_, dearest. "

"I fancy she succeeded--as far as that goes, " I remarked. 

"Well, yes, she made me understand her. So I felt obliged to tell herthat, though Dicky was a lovely fellow and we were all very fond of him, anything of _that_ kind was out of the question. "

"And what, " I asked, "was her reply to that?"

"She seemed to think I was prevaricating. She said she knew what amother's hopes and fears were. They seem to take a very low view, " addedmomma austerely, "of friendship between a young man and a young woman inEngland!"

"I should think so!" said I absent-mindedly. "Dicky hasn't made love tome for three years. "

"_What!_"

"Nothing, momma, dear, " I replied kindly. "Only I wouldn't contradictMrs. Portheris again upon that point, if I were you. She will think itso improper if Dicky _isn't_ my admirer, don't you see?"

But Mrs. Portheris's desire to join our party stood revealed. Herconstant chaperonage of Dicky was getting a little trying, and shewanted me to relieve her. I felt so deeply for them both, reflectingupon the situation, that I experienced quite a glow of virtue at thethought of my promise to Dicky to stay in Rome till his party arrived. They were going to Siena--why, Mr. Dod could not undertake toexplain--he had never heard of anything cheerful in connection withSiena. 

"My idea is, " said the Senator, "that in Rome"--we were on our waythere--"we'll find our work cut out for us. Think of the objects ofinterest involved from Romulus and Remus down to the present Pope!"

"I should like my salts before I begin, " said momma, pathetically. 

"Over two thousand years, " continued the Senator impressively, "andevery year you may be sure has left its architectural imprint. "

"Does Baedeker say that, Senator?" I asked, with a certain severity. 

"No, the expression is entirely my own; you may take it down and use itfreely. Two thousand years of remains is what we've got before us inRome, and pretty well scattered too--nothing like the convenience ofPisa. I expect we shall have to allow at least four days for it. ThatPiazza del Duomo, " continued poppa, thoughtfully, "seems to have beenlaid out with a view to the American tourist of the future. But I don'tsuppose that kind of forethought is common. "

"How exquisite it was, that cluster of white marble relics of the paston the bosom of dusky Pisa. It reminded me, " said momma, poetically, "ofan old maid's pearls. "

"I should suggest, " said the Senator to me, "that you make a note ofthat. A little sentiment won't do us any harm--just a little. And they_are_ like an old maid's pearls in connection with that middle-aged, one-horse little city. Or I should say a widow's--Pisa was once a brideof the sea. A grass widow's, " improved the Senator. "It's allmeadow-land round there--did you notice?"

"I did not, " I said coldly; "but, of course, if I'm to call Pisa a grasswidow, it will have to be. Although I warn you, poppa, that in case ofany critic being able to arise and indicate that it is laid out inoyster beds, I shall make it plain that the responsibility is yours. "

We were speeding through Tuscany, and the vine-garlanded trees in theorchards clasped hands and danced along with us. The sky would have toldus we were in Italy if we had come on a magic carpet without a compassor a time-table. Poppa says we are not, under any circumstances, tomention it more than once, but that we might as well explode the fallacythat there is anything like it in America. There isn't. Our cerulean isvery beautifully blue, but in Italy one discovers by contrast that itis an intellectual blue, filled with light, high, provocative. The skythat bends over Tuscany is the very soul of blue, deep, soft, intense, impenetrable--the sky that one sees in those little casual bits oflandscape behind the shoulders of pre-Raphaelite Saints and Madonnas;and here and there a lake, giving it back with delight, and now and thenthe long slope of a hill, with an old yellow-walled town creeping up, castle crowned, and raggedly trimmed with olives; and so many ruins thatthe Senator, summoned by momma to look at the last in view, regarded itwith disparagement, which he did not attempt to conceal. He wondered, hesaid, that the Italian Government wasn't ashamed of having such a lot ofthem. They might be picturesque, but they weren't creditable; they gaveyou the impression that the country was on the down grade. "You needn'tcall my attention to any more of them, Augusta, " he added; "but if yousee any building that looks like progress, now, anything that gives youthe idea of modern improvements inside, I shouldn't like to miss it. "And he returned to the thirty-second page of the Sunday _New YorkWorld_. 

"I sometimes wish, " said momma, "that I were not the only person in thisfamily with the artistic temperament. "

Sometimes we stopped at the little yellow towns and saw quite closelytheir queer old defences and belfrys and clock towers, and guessed atthe pomegranates and oleanders behind their high courtyard walls. Theyhad musical names, even in the mouths of the railway guards, who sangevery one of them with a high note and a full octave on the syllable ofstress--"Rosign_a_no!" "Car_m_iglia!" The Senator was fascinated withthe spectacle of a railway guard who could express himself intelligibly, to say nothing of the charm; he spoke of introducing the system in theUnited States, but we tried it on "New York, " "Washington, " "KansasCity, " and it didn't seem the same. 

It was at Orbatello, I think, that we made the travelling acquaintanceof the enterprising little gentleman to whom momma still mysteriouslyalludes as "il capitano. " He bowed ceremoniously as he entered thecarriage and stowed the inevitable enormous valise in the rack, and hiseye brightened intelligently as he saw we were a family of Americantourists. He wore a rather seamy black uniform and a soft felt hat withcocks' feathers drooping over it, and a sword and a ridiculously amiableexpression for a man. I don't think he was five feet high, but hismoustache and his feathers and his sword were out of all proportion. There was a gentle trustful exuberance about him which suggested that, although it was possibly twenty-five years since he was born, his agewas much less than that. He twirled his moustache in voluble silence forten minutes while we all furtively scrutinised him with the curiosityinspired by a foreigner of any size, and then with a smile of conscioussweetness he asked the Senator if he might take the liberty to give thetrouble to see the English newspaper for a few seconds only. "I shouldbe too thankful, " he added. 

"Why certainly, " said poppa, much gratified. "I see you spikkumEnglish, " he added encouragingly. 

"I speak--um, _si_. I have learned some--a few of them. But O verybaddili I speak them!"

"I guess that's just your modesty, " said poppa kindly. "But that's notan English paper, you know--it's published in New York. "

"Ah!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm. "That will be much _much_ the morepleasurable for me. " His eyes shone with feeling. "In Italy, " he addedwith an impulsive gesture, "we love the American peoples beyond theLondonian. We always remember that it was an Italian, CristoforoCol----"

"I know, " said poppa. "Very nice of you. But what's your reason now, forpreferring Americans as a nation?"

We saw our first Italian shrug. It is more prolonged, more sentimentalthan French ones. In this case it expressed the direct responsibility ofFate. 

"I think, " he said, "that they are more _simpatica_--sympatheticated tous. " He seemed to be unaware of me, but his eye rested upon momma atthis point, and took her into his confidence. 

"We also, " said she reciprocally, "are always charmed to see Italians inour country. "

I wondered privately whether she was thinking of hand organ men ormembers of the Mafia society, but it was no opportunity to inquire. Myimpression is that about this time, in spite of Tuscany outside, I wentto sleep, because my next recollection is of the little Captain pouringChianti out of a large black bottle into momma's jointed silvertravelling cup. I remember thinking when I saw that, that they must havemade progress. Scraps of conversation floated through my waking momentswhen the train stopped--I heard momma ask him if his parents were bothliving and where his home was. I also understood her to inquire whetherthe Italians were domestic in their tastes or whether they were like theFrench, who, she believed, had no home life at all. I saw the Senatorput a card in his pocket-book and restore it to his breast, and heardhim inquire whether his new Italian acquaintance wore his uniform everyday as a matter of choice or because he had to. An hour went by, andwhen I finally awoke it was to see momma sitting by with folded handsand an expression of much gratification while poppa gave a graphicaccount of the rise and progress of the American baking-powder interest. "I don't expect, " said he, "you've ever heard of Wick's ElectricCorn-flour?"

"It is my misfortune. "

"We sent thousands of cans to Southern Europe last year, sir. Or Wick'sSublimated Soda?"

"I am stupidissimo. "

"No, not at all. But I daresay your momma knows it, if she ever haswaffles on her breakfast table. Well, it's been a kind of kitchenrevolution. We began by making a hundred pounds a week--and couldn'talways get rid of it. Now--why the day before I sailed we sent sixthousand cans to the Queen of Madagascar. I hope she'll read theinstructions!"

"It takes the breath. What splendid revenue must be from that!"

The Senator merely smiled, and played with his watch chain. "I shouldhate to brag, " he said, but anyone could see from the absence of adiamond ring on his little finger that he was a person of weight in hiscommunity. 

"Oh!" said momma, "my daughter is awake at last! Mamie, let me introduceCount Filgiatti. Count, my daughter. What a pity you went to sleep, love. The Count has been giving us _such_ a delightful afternoon. "

The carriage swayed a good deal as the Count stood up to bow, but thathad no effect either upon the dignity or the gratification he expressed. His pleasure was quite ingratiating, or would have been if he had been alittle taller. As it was, it was amusing, and I recognised anopportunity for the study of Italian character. I don't mean that I madeup my mind to avail myself of it, but I saw that the opportunity wasthere. 

"So you've been reading the _New York World_, " I said kindly. 

"I have read, yes, two _avertissimi_. Not more, I fear. But they arealso amusing, the _avertissimi_. " His voice was certainly agreeablydeferential, with a note of gratitude. 

"Now, if you wouldn't mind taking the corner opposite my daughter, Count Filgiatti, " put in poppa, "you and she could talk morecomfortably, and Mrs. Wick could put her feet up and get a little nap. "

"I am too happy if I shall not be a trouble to Mees, " the Countresponded, beaming. And I said, "Dear me, no; how could he?" at which hevery obligingly changed his seat. 

I hardly know how we drifted into abstract topics. The Count's Englishwas so bad that my sense of humour should have confined him to theweather and the scenery; but it is nevertheless true that about an hourlater, while the landscape turned itself into a soft, warm chromo in thefading sunset, and both my parents soundly slept, we were discussing thebarrier of religion to marriage between Protestants and Roman Catholics. I did not hesitate to express the most liberal sentiments. 

"Since there are to be no marriages in heaven, " I said, "what differencecan it make, in married life, how people get there?"

"The signor and signora think also so?"

"Oh, I daresay poppa and momma have got their own opinions, " I said, "but that is mine. "

"You do not think as they!" he exclaimed. 

"I don't know what they think, " I explained. "I haven't asked them. ButI've got my own thinker, you know. " I searched for simple expressions, and I seemed to make him understand. 

"So! Then this prejudice is dead for you, Senorita--_mees_?"

"I like 'Senorita' best, " I said. "I believe it is. " At that moment Idivined that he was a Roman Catholic. How, I don't know. So I added, "But I've never had the slightest reason to give it a thought. "

"That must be, " he said softly, "because you never met, Senorita--may Isay this?--one single gentleman w'at is Catholic. "

"That's rather clever of you, " I said. "Perhaps that _is_ why. "

The Italian character struck me as having interesting phases, but I didnot allow this impression to appear. I looked indifferently out of thewindow. Italian sunsets are very becoming. 

"The signora, your mother, has told me that you have no brothers orsisters, Mees Wick. She made me the confidence--it was most kind. "

"There never has been any secret about it, Count. "

"Then you have not even one?" Count Filgiatti's eyes were full ofmelancholy sympathy. 

"I think, " I said with coldness, "that in a matter of that kind, momma'sword should hardly need corroboration. "

"Ah, it is sad! With me what difference! Can you believe of eleven? Andthe father with the saints! And I of course am the eldest of all. "

"Dear me, " I said, "what a responsibility!"

"Ah, you recognise! you understand the--the necessities, yes?"

At that moment the train stopped at Civita Vecchia, and the Senatorawoke and put his hat on. "The Eternal City, " he remarked when hedescried that the name of the station was not Rome, "appears to have aneternal railway to match. There seems to be a feeding counter herethough--we might have another try at those slices of veal boiled intomatoes and smothered with macaroni that they give the pilgrim strangerin these parts. You may lead the world in romance, Count, but you don'tput any of it in your railway refreshments. "

As we passed out into the smooth-toned talkative darkness, CountFilgiatti said in my ear, "Mistra and Madame Wick have kindly consentedto receive my visit at the hotel to-morrow. Is it agreeable to you alsothat I come?"

And I said, "Why, certainly!"

CHAPTER XI. 

We descended next morning to realise how original we were in being inthe plains of Italy in July. The Fulda people and the Miss Binghams andMrs. Portheris had prevented our noticing it before, but in the HotelMascigni, Via del Tritone, we seemed to have arrived at a point of aridsolitude, which gave poppa a new and convincing sense of all he wasgoing through in pursuit of Continental culture. We sat in one corner ofthe "Sala di mangiari" at a small square table, and in all the lengthand breadth and sumptuousness of that magnificent apartment--Italianhotel dining-rooms are always florid and palatial--there was only oneother little square table with a cloth on it and an appearance ofexpectancy. The rest were heaped with chairs, bottom side up, with theirlegs in the air; the chandeliers were tied up in brown holland, andthrough a depressed and exhausted atmosphere, suggestive of magnificentoccasions temporarily in eclipse, moved, with a casual languid air, avery tall waiter and a very short one. At mysterious exits to the rearoccasionally appeared the form of the _chef_ exchanging plates. It wasborne in upon one that in the season the _chef_ would be remanded to themost inviolable seclusion. 

"Do you suppose Pompeii will be any worse than this?" inquired theSenator. 

"Talk about Americans pervading the Continent, " he continued, castinghis eye over the surrounding desolation. "Where are they? I should beglad to see them. Great Scott! if it comes to that, I should be glad tosee a blooming Englishman!"

It wasn't an answer to prayer, for there had been no opportunity fordevotion, but at that moment the door opened and admitted Mr. , Mrs. , andMiss Emmeline Malt, and Miss Callis. The reunion was as rapt as theSenator and Emmeline could make it, and cordial in every other respect. Mr. Malt explained that they had come straight through from Paris, astime was beginning to press. 

"We couldn't leave out Rome, " he said, "on account of Mis' Malt'smother--she made such a point of our seeing the prison of Saint Paul. Inher last letter she was looking forward very anxiously to our safereturn to get an account of it. She's a leader in our experiencemeetings, and I couldn't somehow make up my mind to face her withoutit. "

"Poppa, " remarked Emmeline, "is not so foolish as he looks. "

"We were just wondering, " exclaimed momma, "who that table was laid for. But we never thought of _you_. Isn't it strange?"

We agreed that it was little short of marvellous. 

The tall waiter strolled up for the commands of the Malt party. Hisdemeanour showed that he resented the Malts, who were, nevertheless, innocent respectable people. As Emmeline ordered "_café au lait pourtous"_ he scowled and made curious contortions with his lower jaw. "Anything else you want?" he inquired, with obvious annoyance. 

"Yes, " said Miss Callis. He further expressed his contempt by twistinghis moustache, and waited in silent disdain. 

"I want, " said Miss Callis sweetly, leaning forward with her chinartlessly poised in her hand, "to know if you are paid to make faces atthe guests of this hotel. "

There was laughter, above which Emmeline's crow rose loud and clear, andas the waiter hastened away, suddenly transformed into a sycophant, poppa remarked, "I see you've got those hotel tickets, too. Let me giveyou a little pointer. Say nothing about it until next day. They are likethat sometimes. In being deprived of the opportunity of swindling us, they feel that they've been done themselves. "

"Oh, " said Mr. Malt, "we never reveal it for twenty-four hours. Thatfellow must have smelled 'em on us. Now, how were you proposing to spendthe day?"

"We're going to the Forum, " remarked Emmeline. "Do come with us, Mr. Wick. We should love to have you. "

"We mustn't forget the Count, " said momma to the Senator. 

[Illustration: "Are you paid to make faces?"]

"What Count?" Emmeline inquired. "Did you ever, momma! Mis' Wick knowsa count. She's been smarter than we have, hasn't she? Introduce him tous, Mis' Wick. "

"Emmeline, " said her mother severely, "you are as personal as ever youcan be. I don't know whatever Mis' Wick will think of you. "

"She's merely full of intelligent curiosity, Mis' Malt, " said Mr. Malt, who seemed to be in the last stage of infatuated parent. "I know you'llexcuse her, " he added to momma, who said with rather frigid emphasis, "Oh yes, we'll excuse her. " But the hint was lost and Emmeline remained. Poppa looked in his memorandum book and found that the Count was not toarrive until 3 P. M. There was, therefore, no reason why we should notaccompany the Malts to the Forum, and it was arranged. 

A quarter of an hour later we were rolling through Rome. As a family wewere rather subdued by the idea that it was Rome, there was such immensesignificance even in the streets with tramways, though it was rather anatmosphere than anything of definite detail; but no such impressionweighed upon the Malts. They took Rome at its face value and refused torecognise the unearned increment heaped up by the centuries. However, aswe were divided in two carriages, none of us had all the Malts. 

It was warm and dusty, the air had a malarious taste. We drove first, Iremember, to the American druggist's in the Piazza di Spagna for somemagnesia Mrs. Malt wanted for Emmeline, who had prickly heat. It wasannoying to have one's first Roman impressions confused with Emmelineand magnesia and prickly heat; but Mrs. Malt appeared to think that Romeattracted visitors chiefly by means of that American druggist. She saidshe was perfectly certain we should find an American dentist there, too, if we only took the time to look him up. I can't say whether she tookthe time. We didn't. 

It was interesting, the Piazza di Spagna, because that is whereeverybody who has read "Roba di Roma" knows that the English andAmericans have lived ever since the days when dear old Mr. Story and therest used to coach it from Civita Vecchia--in hotels, and pensions, andapartments, the people in Marion Crawford's novels. We could only decidethat the plain, severe, many-storied houses with the shops underneathhad charms inside to compensate for their outward lack. Not a treeanywhere, not a scrap of grass, only the lava pavement, and the view ofthe druggist's shop and the tourists' agency office. Miss Callis saidshe didn't see why man should be for ever bound up with the vegetablecreation--it was like living in a perpetual salad--and was disposed todefend the Piazza di Spagna at all points, it looked so nice andexpensive. But Miss Callis's tastes were very distinctly urban. 

That druggist's establishment was on the Pincian Hill! It seemed, onreflection, an outrage. We all looked about us, when we discoveredthis, for the other six, and another of the foolish geographicalillusions of the school-room was shattered for each of us. The Rome ofmy imagination was as distinctly seven-hilled as a quadruped isfour-legged, the Rome I saw had no eminences to speak of anywhere. Perhaps, as poppa suggested, business had moved away from the hills andwe should find them in the suburbs, but this we were obliged to leaveunascertained. 

Through the warm empty streets we drove and looked at Rome. It wasdriving through time, through history, through art, and going backward. And through the Christian religion, for we started where the pillar ofPius IX. , setting forth the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, reaffirmed a modern dogma of the great church across the Tiber; and werattled on past other and earlier memorials of that church thick-builtinto the Middle Ages, and of the Early Fathers, and of the veryApostles. All heaped and crowded and over-built, solid and ragged, decaying and defying decay, clinging to her traditions with both hands, old Rome jostled before us. Presently uprose a great and crumbling archand a difference, and as we passed it the sound of the life of the citydied indistinctly away and a silence grew up, with the smell of the sunupon grasses and weeds, and we stopped and looked down into Cæsar'sworld, which lay below us, empty. We gazed in silence for a moment, andthen Emmeline remarked that she could make as good a Forum with a box ofblocks. 

"I shouldn't wonder but what you express the sentiments of allpresent, " said her father admiringly. "Now is it allowable for us to godown there and make ourselves at home amongst those antique pillars, orhave we got to take the show in from here?"

"No, Malt, " said the Senator, helping the ladies out, "I can't say Iagree with you. It's a dead city, that's what it is, and for my partI've never seen anything so impressive. "

"Mr. Wick, " remarked Miss Callis, "has not visited Philadelphia. "

"Well, for a municipal cemetery, " returned Mr. Malt, "it's prettyuncared for. If there was any enterprise in this capital it would besuitably railed in with posts and chains, and a monument inscribed 'Herelies Rome's former greatness' or something like that. But the Italianshaven't got a particle of go--I've noticed that all through. "

We went down the wooden stair, a century at a step, and presently walkedand talked, we seven Americans, in that elder Rome that most people knowso much better than the one with St. Peter's and the Corso, because ofthe clinging nature of those early impressions which we construe forourselves with painful reference to lists of exceptions. We all feltthat it was a small place to have had so much to say to history, andwere obliged to remind ourselves that we weren't looking at the whole ofit. Poppa acknowledged that his tendency to compare it unfavourably, inspite of the verdict of history, with Chicago was checked by a smellfrom the Cloaca Maxima, which proved that the Ancient Romans probablyenjoyed enteric and sewer gas quite as much as we do, although undernames that are to be found only in dictionaries now. Mrs. Malt said theplace surprised her in being so yellow--she had always imagined picturesof it to have been taken in the sunset, but now she saw that it wasperfectly natural. Acting upon Mr. Malt's advice, we did not attempt toidentify more than the leading features, and I remember distinctly, inconsequence, that the temple of Castor had three columns standing andthe temple of Saturn had eight, while of the Basilica Julia there wasnothing at all but the places where they used to be. Mrs. Malt said itmade her feel quite idolatrous to look at them, and for her part shecouldn't be sorry they had fallen so much into decay--it was only rightand proper. This launched Mr. And Mrs. Malt and my parents upon adiscussion which threatened to become unwisely polemic if Emmeline hadnot briefly decided it in favour of Christianity. 

Momma and Mrs. Malt expressed a desire above all things to see thetemple and apartments of the Vestal Virgins, which Miss Callis with somesurprise begged them on no account to mention in the presence of thegentlemen. 

"There are some things, " remarked Miss Callis austerely, "from which norespectable married lady would wish to lift the veil of the classics. "

Momma was inclined to argue the point, but Miss Callis looked soshocked that she desisted. 

"Perhaps, Mrs. Wick, " she said sarcastically, "you intend to go to seethe Baths of Caracallus!"

To which momma replied certainly _not_, that was a very different thing. And if I am unable to describe the Baths of Caracallus in this history, it is on account of Miss Callis's personal influence and the remarkabledevelopment of her sense of propriety. 

At momma's suggestion we walked slowly all round the Via Sacra, lookingsteadily down at its little triangular original paving-stones, and triedto imagine ourselves the shackled captives of Scipio. If the party hadnot consisted so largely of Emmeline the effort might have beensuccessful. Fragments of exhumed statuary, discoloured and featureless, stood tipped in rows along the shorn foundations and inspired in Mr. Malt a serious curiosity. 

"The ancients, " said Mr. Malt with conviction, "were every bit as smartas the moderns, meaning born intelligence. Look at that ear--that eartook talent. There isn't a terra-cotta factory in the United States thatcould turn out a better ear to-day. But they hadn't what we callgumption, they put all their capital into one line of business, and youmay be sure they swamped the market. If they'd just done a littleinventing now, instead--worried out the idea of steam, or gas, orelectricity--why Rome might never have fallen to this day. " And no oneinterfered with Mr. Malt's idea that the fall of Rome was a purelycommercial disaster. Doubtless it was out of regard for his feelings, but he was exactly the sort of man to compel you to prove yourassertion. 

We found the boundaries of the first Forum of the Republic, and poppa, pacing it in a soft felt hat and a silk duster, offered a Senatorialcontrast to history. He looked round him with dignity and made thegesture which goes with his most sustained oratorical flights. "Iwouldn't have backed up Cato in everything, " he said thoughtfully. "No. There were occasions on which I should have voted against the old man, and the little American school-boys of to-day would have had to decline'Mugwumpus' in consequence. " And at the thought of Cannæ and Trasimenethe nineteenth century Senator from Illinois fiercely pulled his beard. 

We turned our pilgrim feet to where the Colosseum wheels against the skyand gives up the world's eternal supreme note of splendour and ofcruelty; and along the solitary dusty Appian Way, as if it were acountry lane of the time we know, came a ragged Roman urchin with abasket. Under the triumphal arch of Titus, where his forefathers jeeredat the Jews in manacled procession, we bargained with him for his purpleplums. He had the eyes and the smile of immemorial Italy for his own, and the bones of Imperial Rome in equal inheritance, which he alsowished to sell, by the way, in jagged fragments from his trouserpockets. And it linked up those early days with that particularafternoon in a curiously simple way to think that from the Cæsars toKing Humbert there has never been a year without just suchbrown-cheeked, dark-eyed, imperfectly washed little Roman boys upon theAppian Way. 

CHAPTER XII. 

We were too late for the hotel _déjeuner_, and had to order it, Iremember, _à la carte_. That was why the Count was kept waiting. We werekept waiting, too, which seemed at the moment of more importance, sincethe atmosphere of the classics had given us excellent appetites. Emmeline decided upon ices and _petits fours_ in the Corso for herparty, after which they were going to let nothing interfere with theirinspection of the prison of St. Paul; but we came back and ordered aharicot. In the cavernous recesses beyond the door which openedkitchen-ward, commands resounded, and a quarter of an hour later a boywalked casually through the dining-room bearing beans in a basket. Timewent on, and the Senator was compelled to send word that he had notordered the repast for the following day. The small waiter then made apretence of activity, and brought vinegar and salt, and rolls and water. "The peutates is notta-cooks, " said he in deprecation, and we weredistressed to postpone the Count for those peutates. But what else waspossible?

The dismaying part was that after luncheon had enabled us to regard alittle thing like that with equanimity, my parents abandoned it to me. Momma said she knew she was missing a great deal, but she really didn'tfeel equal to entertaining the Count; her back had given out completely. The Senator wished to attend to his mail. With the assistance of hisletters and telegrams he was beginning to bear up wonderfully, and, asit was just in, I hadn't the heart to interfere. "You can apologise forus, daughter, " said poppa, "and say something polite about our seeinghim later. Don't let him suppose we've gone back on him in any way. It'sa thing no young fellow in America would think of, but with theseforeigners you never can tell. "

I saw at once that the Count was annoyed. He was standing in the middleof the salon, fingering his sword-hilt in a manner which expressed themost absurd irritation. So I said immediately that I was awfully sorry, but it seemed so difficult to get anything to eat in Rome at that timeof year, that the head-waiter was really responsible, and wouldn't hesit down?

"I don't know what you will think of us, " I went on as we shook hands. "How long have you been kind enough to wait, anyway?"

"Since a quarter of an hour--only, " replied the Count, with a difficultsmile, "but now that I see you it is forgotten all. "

"That's very nice of you, " I said. "I assure you momma was quite workedup about keeping you waiting. It's rather trying to the Americantemperament to be obliged to order a hurried luncheon from themarket-gardener. "

"So! In America you have him not--the market garden? You are each hisown vegetable. Yes? Ah, how much better than the poor Italian! ButMistra and Madame Wick, they have not, I hope, the indisposition?"

"Well, I'm afraid they have, Count--something like that. They said I wasto ask you to excuse them. You see they've been sight-seeing the wholemorning, and that's something that can't be done by halves in your city. The stranger has to put his whole soul into it, hasn't he?"

"Ah, the whole soul! It is too fatiguing, " Count Filgiatti assented. Heglanced at me uncertainly, and rose. "Kindly may I ask that you give mydeepest afflictions to Mistra and Madame Wick for their health?"

"Oh, " I said, "if you _must_! But I'm here, you know. " I put no hauteurinto my tone, because I saw that it was a misunderstanding. 

He still hesitated and I remembered that the Filgiatti intelligenceprobably dated from the Middle Ages, and had undergone very littlealteration since. "You have made such a short visit, " I said. "I must bea very bad substitute for momma and poppa. "

A flash of comprehension illuminated my visitor's countenance. "I praythat you do not think such a wrong thing, " he said impulsively. "If itis permitted, I again sit down. "

"Do, " said I, and he did. Anything else would have seemed perfectlyunreasonable, and yet for the moment he twisted his moustache, apparently in the most foolish embarrassment. To put him at his ease, Itold him how lovely I thought the fountains. "That's one of your mostideal connections with ancient history, don't you think?" I said. "Thefact that those old aqueducts of yours have been bringing down the waterto sparkle and ripple in Roman streets ever since. "

"Idealissimo! And the Trevi of Bernini--I hope you threw the soldi, sothat you must come back to Rome!"

"We weren't quite sure which it was, " I responded, "so poppa threw soldiinto all of them, to make certain. Sometimes he had to make two or threeshots, " and I could not help smiling at the recollection. 

"Ah, the profusion!"

"I don't suppose they came to a quarter of a dollar, Count. It is thecheapest of your amusements. "

The Count reflected for a moment. 

"Then you wish to return to Rome, " he said softly; "you take interesthere?"

"Why yes, " I said, "I'm not a barbarian. I'm from Illinois. "

"Then why do you go away?"

"Our time is so limited. "

"Ah, Mees Wick, you have all of your life. " The Italians certainly haveexquisite voices. 

"That is true, " I said thoughtfully. 

"Many young American ladies now live always in Italy, " pursued CountFilgiatti. 

"Is that so?" I replied pleasantly. "They are domiciled here with theirparents?"

"Y--yes. Sometimes it is like that. And sometimes----"

"Sometimes they are working in the studios. I know. A delightful life itmust be. "

The Count looked at the carpet. "Ah, signorina, you misunderstand mypoor English, " he said; "she means quite different. "

It was not coquetry which induced me to cast down my eyes. 

"The American young lady will sometimes contract alliance. "

"Oh!" I exclaimed. 

"Yes. And if it is a good arrangimento it is always quite _quite_happy. "

"We are said, " I observed thoughtfully, "to be able, as a people, toaccommodate ourselves to circumstances. "

"You approve this idea! Signorina, you are so amiable, it is heavenly. "

"I see no objection to it, " I said. "It is entirely a matter of taste. "

"And the American ladies have much taste, " observed Count Filgiattiblandly. 

"I'm afraid it isn't infallible, " I said, "but it is charming to hear itapproved. "

"The American lady comes in Italy. She is young, beautiful, with agrace--ah! And perhaps there is a little income--a few dollar--but we donot speak of that--it is a trifle, only to make possible thearrangimento. "

"I see, " I said. 

"The American lady is so perceiving--it is also a charm. The Italiangentleman has a dignity of his. He is perhaps from a family a littleold. It is nothing--the matter is of the heart--but it makes possiblethe arrangimento. "

"I have read of such things before, " I said, "in the newspapers. It ismost amusing to hear them corroborated on the spot. But that is one ofthe charms of travel, Count Filgiatti. "

The Count hesitated and a shade of indecision crossed his swarthy littlefeatures. Then he added simply, "For me she has always been a vision, that American lady. It is for this that I study the English. I havethought, 'When I meet one of those so charming Americans, I will do mypossible. '"

I could not help thinking of that family of eleven and the father withthe saints. It was pathetic to feel one's self a realised vision withoutany capacity for beneficence--worse in some respects than being obligedto be unkind to hopes with no financial basis. It made one feel somehowso mercenary. But before I could think of anything to say--it was such adifficult juncture--the Count went on. 

"But in the Italian idea it is better first one thing to know--theagreement of the American signorina. If she will not, the Italiannobleman is too much disgrace. It is not good to offer the name and thetitle if the lady say no, I do not want--take that poor thing away. "

How artless it was! Yet my sympathy ebbed immediately. Not my curiosity, however. Perhaps at this or an earlier point I should have gone blushingaway and forever pondered in secret the problem of Count Filgiatti'sintentions. I confess that it didn't even occur to me--it was such alittle Count and so far beyond the range of my emotions. Instead, Ismiled in a non-committal way and said that Count Filgiatti's prudencewas most unique. 

"With a friend to previously discover then it is easy. But perhaps thelady will have no friends in Italy. "

"You would have to be prepared for that, " I said. "Certainly. "

"Also she perhaps quickly go away. The Americans are so instantaneous. Maybe my vision fade like--like anything. "

"In a perspective of tourists' coupons, " I suggested. 

For a moment there was silence, through which we could hear thescrubbing-brush of the chambermaid on the marble hall of the firstfloor. It seemed a final note of desolation. 

"If I must speak of myself believe me it is not a nobody the CountFilgiatti, " he went on at last. "Two Cardinals I have had in my familyand one is second cousin to the Pope. "

"Fancy the Pope's having relations!" I said, "but I suppose there isnothing to prevent it. "

"Nothing at all. In my family I have had many ambassadors, but that wasa little formerly. Once a Filgiatti married with a Medici--but thesethings are better for Mistra and Madame Wick to inquire. "

"Poppa is very much interested in antiquities, but I'm afraid there willhardly be time, Count Filgiatti. "

"Listen, I will say all! Always they have been much too large, thefamilies Filgiatti. So now perhaps we are a little _re_duce. But thereis still somethings-ah--signorina, can you pardon that I speak thesethings, but the time is so small--there is fifteen hundred lire yearlyrevenue to my pocket. "

"About three hundred dollars, " I observed sympathetically. CountFilgiatti nodded with the smile of a conscious capitalist. "Then ofcourse, " I said, "you won't marry for money. " I'm afraid this was alittle unkind, but I was quite sure the Count would perceive no irony, and said it for my own amusement. 

"_Jamais!_ In Italy you will find that never! The Italian gives alwaysthe heart before--before----"

"The arrangimento, " I suggested softly. 

"Indeed, yes. There is also the seat of the family. "

"The seat of the family, " I repeated. "Oh--the family seat. Of course, being a Count, you have a castle. They always go together. I hadforgotten. "

"A castle I cannot say, but for the country it is very well. It is notamusing there, in Tuscany. It is a little out of repairs. Twice a year Igo to see my mother and all those brothers and sisters--it is enough!And the Countess, my mother, has said to me two hundred times, 'Marrywith an Americaine, Nicco--it is my command. ' 'Nicco, ' she calls me--itis what you call jack-name. "

The Count smiled deprecatingly, and looked at me with a great deal ofsentiment, twisting his moustache. Another pause ensued. It's all verywell to say I should have dismissed him long before this, but I shouldlike to know on what grounds?

"I wish very much to write my mother that I have found the American ladyfor a new Countess Filgiatti, " he said at last with emotion. 

"Well, " I said awkwardly, "I hope you will find her. "

"Ah, Mees Wick, " exclaimed the Count recklessly, "you are that Americanlady. When I saw you in the railway I said, 'It is my vision!' At once Idesired to embrace the papa. And he was not cold with me--he told me ofthe soda. I had courage, I had hope. At first when I see you to-day Iam a little derange. In the Italian way I speak first with the papa. Then came a little thought in my heart--no, it is propitious! In Americathe daughter maka always her own arrangimento. So I am spoken. "

At this I rose immediately. I would not have it on my conscience that Itoyed with the matrimonial proposition of even an Italian Count. 

"I think I understand you, Count Filgiatti, " I said--There is somethingabout the most insignificant proposal that makes one blush in aperfectly absurd way. I have never been able to get over it--"and I fearI must bring this interview to a close. I----"

"Ah, it is too embarrassing for you! It is experience very new, verystrange. "

"No, " I said, regaining my composure, "not at all. But the fact is, Count Filgiatti, the transaction you propose doesn't appeal to me. It istoo business-like to be sentimental, and too sentimental to bebusiness-like. I'm sorry to seem disobliging, but I really couldn't makeup my mind to marry a gentleman for his ancestors who are dead, even ifhe was willing to marry me for my income which may disappear. Poppa isvery speculative. But I know there's a certain percentage of Americanswho think a count with a family seat is about the only thing worthbringing away from Europe, now that we manufacture so much forourselves, and if I meet any of them I'll bear you in mind. "

"_Upon my word!_"

It was Mrs. Portheris, in the doorway behind us, just arrived fromSiena. 

 * * * * *

I mentioned the matter to my parents, thinking it might amuse them, andit did. From a business point of view, however, poppa could not helpfeeling a certain amount of sympathy for the Count. "I hope, daughter, "he said, "you didn't give him the ha-ha to his face. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

There is the very tenderness of desolation upon the Appian Way. To me itsuggested nothing of the splendour of Roman villas and the tragedy offlying Emperors. It spoke only of itself, lying over the wide silence ofthe noon-day fields, historic doubtless, but noon-day certainly. Something lives upon the warm stretches of the Appian Way, somethingthat talks of the eternal and unchangeable, and yet has the pathos ofthe fragmentary and the lost. Perhaps it is the ghost of a genius thathas failed of reincarnation, and inspires the weeds and the leaf-shadowsinstead. Thinking of it, one remembers only an almond tree in flower, that grew beside a ruined arch by the wayside--both quite alone in thesunlight--and perhaps of a meek, young, marble Cecilia, unquestioninglyprostrate, submissive to the axe. 

We were on our way to the Catacombs, momma, the Senator, and Mrs. Portheris in one carriage, R. Dod, Mr. Mafferton, Isabel, and I in theother. I approved of the arrangement, because the mutually distantunderstanding that existed between Mr. Mafferton and me had already beenthe subject of remark by my parents. ("For old London acquaintances youand Mr. Mafferton seem to have very little to say to each other, " mommahad observed that very morning. ) It was borne in upon me that this wasabsurd. People have no business to be estranged for life because one ofthem has happened to propose to the other, unless, of course, he hasbeen accepted and afterwards divorced, which is quite a different thing. Besides, there was Dicky to think of. I decided that there was a mediumin all things, and to help me to find it I wore a blouse from MadameValerie in the Rue de l'Opera, which cost seven times its value, and wasnaturally becoming. Perhaps this was going to extreme measures; but hewas a recalcitrant Englishman, and for Dicky's sake one had to think ofeverything. 

Englishmen have a genius for looking uncomfortable. Their feelings areterribly mixed up with their personal appearance. It was some timebefore Mr. Mafferton would consent to be even tolerably at his ease, though I made a distinct effort to show that I bore no malice. It musthave been the mere memory of the past that embarrassed him, for theother two were as completely unaware of his existence as they well couldbe in the same carriage. For a time, as I talked in commonplaces, Mr. Mafferton in monosyllables, and Mr. Dod and Miss Portheris in regards, the most sordid realist would have hesitated to chronicle ourconversation. 

"When, " I inquired casually, "are you thinking of going back, Mr. Mafferton?"

"To town? Not before October, I fancy!"

"Even in Rome, " I observed, "London is 'town' to you, isn't it? What acurious thing insular tradition is!"

"I suppose Rome was invented first, " he replied haughtily. 

"Why yes, " I said; "while the ancestors of Eaton-square were runningabout in blue paint and bear-skins, and Albert Gate, in the directory, was a mere cave. What do you suppose, " I went on, following up this lineof thought, "when you were untutored savages, was your substitute forthe Red Book?"

"Really, " said this Englishman, "I haven't an idea. Perhaps as you havesuggested they had no ad_dresses_. "

For a moment I felt quite depressed. "Did you think it was a conundrum?"I asked. "You so often remind me of _Punch_, Mr. Mafferton. "

I shouldn't have liked anyone to say that to me, but it seemed to havequite a mollifying effect upon Mr. Mafferton. He smiled and pulled hismoustache in the way Englishmen always do, when endeavouring to absorb acompliment. 

"Dear old London, " I went on reminiscently, "what a funny experience itwas!"

"To the Transatlantic mind, " responded Mr. Mafferton stiffly, "one canimagine it instructive. "

"It was a revelation to mine, " I said earnestly--"a revelation. " Then, remembering Mr. Mafferton's somewhat painful connection with therevelation, I added carefully, "From a historic point of view. TheTower, you know, and all that. "

"Ah!" said Mr. Mafferton, with a distant eye upon the Campagna. 

It was really very difficult. 

"Do you remember the day we went to Madame Tussaud's?" I asked. Perhapsmy intonation was a little dreamy. "I shall _never_ forget William theConqueror--never. "

"Yes--yes, I think I do. " It was clearly an effort of memory. 

"And now, " I said regretfully, "it can never be the same again. "

"Certainly not. " He used quite unnecessary emphasis. 

"William and the others having been since destroyed by fire, " Icontinued. Mr. Mafferton looked foolish. "What a terrible scene thatmust have been! Didn't you feel when all that royal wax melted as if thedynasties of England had been wrecked over again! What effect did ithave on dear old Victoria?"

"One question at a time, " said Mr. Mafferton, and I think he smiled. 

"Now you remind me of Sandford and Merton, " I said, "and a place foreverything and everything in its place. And punctuality is the thief oftime. And many others. "

"You haven't got it _quite_ right, " said Mr. Mafferton with incipientanimation. "May I correct you? 'Procrastination, ' not 'punctuality. '"

"Thanks, " I said. I could not help observing that for quite five minutesMr. Mafferton had made no effort to overhear the conversation betweenMr. Dod and Miss Portheris. It was a trifle, but life is made up oflittle things. 

"I don't believe we adorn our conversation with proverbs in America asmuch as we did, " I continued. "I guess it takes too long. If you makeuse of a proverb you see, you've got to allow for reflection first, andreflection afterwards, and a sigh, and very few of us have time forthat. It is one of our disadvantages. "

Mr. Mafferton heard me with attention. 

"Really!" he said in quite his old manner when we used to discussPresidential elections and peanuts and other features of life in myrepublic. "That is a fact of some interest--but I see you cling to onelittle Americanism, Miss Wick. Do you remember"--he actually lookedarch--"once assuring me that you intended to abandon the verb to'guess'?"

"I don't know why we should leave all the good words to Shakespeare, " Isaid, "but I was under a great many hallucinations about the Americanlanguage in England, and I daresay I did. "

If I responded coldly, it was at the thought of my last interview withpoor dear Arthur, and his misprised larynx. But at this moment a wildlyencouraging sign from Dicky reminded me that his interests and not myown emotions were to be considered. 

"We mustn't reproach each other, must we, " I said softly. "_I_ don'tbear a particle of malice--really and truly. "

Mr. Mafferton cast a glance of alarm at Mr. Dod and Miss Portheris, whowere raptly exchanging views as to the respective merits of a cleek anda brassey shot given certain peculiar bunkers and a sandy green--as iftwo infatuated people talking golf would have ears for anything else!

"Not on any account, " he said hurriedly. 

"The best quality of friendship sometimes arises out of the mostunfortunate circumstances, " I added. The sympathy in my voice was forDicky and Isabel. 

Mr. Mafferton looked at me expressively and the carriage drew up at theCatacombs of St. Callistus. Mrs. Portheris was awaiting us by the gate, however, so in getting out I gave my hand to Dicky. 

Inside and outside the gate, how quiet it was. Nothing on the Appian Waybut dust and sunlight, nothing in the field within the walls butyellowing grass and here and there a field-daisy bending in the silence. It made one think of an old faded water-colour, washed in with tears, that clings to its significance though all its reality is gone. Then wesaw a little bare house to the left with an open door, and inside foundBrothers Demetrius and Eusebius in Trappist gowns and ropes, who wouldsell us beads for the profitable employment of our souls, and chocolateand photographs, and wonderful eucalyptus liqueur from the ThreeFountains, and when we had well bought would show us the city of thelong, long dead of which they were custodians. They were both obligingenough to speak English, Brother Demetrius imperfectly and haltingly, and without the assistance of those four front teeth which are soespecially necessary to a foreign tongue, Brother Eusebius fluently, andwith such richness of dialect that we were not at all surprised to learnthat he had served his Pope for some years in the State of New York. 

"For de ladi de chocolate. Ith it not?" said Brother Demetrius, with aninducive smile. "It ith de betht in de worl', dis chocolate. "

"Don't you believe him, " said Brother Eusebius, "he's known as theoldest of the Roman frauds. Wants your money, that's what he wants. "Brother Demetrius shook his fist in amicable, wagging protest. "That'sthe way he goes on, you know--quarrelsome old party. But I don't sayit's bad chocolate. Try it, young lady, try it. "

He handed a bit to Isabel, who looked at her momma. 

"There is no possible objection, my dear, " said Mrs. Portheris, and shenibbled it. 

Dicky invested wildly. 

"Dese photograff dey are very pritty, " remarked Brother Demetrius tomomma, who was turning over some St. Stephens and St. Cecilias. 

"He'd say anything to sell them, " put in Brother Eusebius. "He neverthinks of his immortal soul, any more than if he was a poor miserableheretic. He'll tell you they're originals next, taken by Nero at thetime. You're all good Catholics, of course?"

"We are not any kind of Catholics, " said Mrs. Portheris severely. 

"I'll give you my blessing all the same, and no extra charge. But thesaints forbid that I should be selling beads made out of their preciousbones to Protestants. "

"I'll take that string, " said momma. 

"I wouldn't do it on any account, " continued Brother Eusebius, as hewrapped them up in blue paper, but momma still attaches a certain amountof veneration to those beads. 

"And what can I do for you, sir?" continued Brother Eusebius to theSenator, rubbing his hands. "What'll be the next thing?"

"The Early Christians, " replied poppa laconically, "if it's all the sameto you. "

"Just in half a shake. Don't hurry yourselves. They'll keep, youknow--they've kept a good long while already. Now you, madam, " saidBrother Eusebius to Mrs. Portheris, "have never had the influenza, Iknow. It only attacks people advanced in life. "

"Indeed I have, " replied that lady. "Twice. "

"Is that so! Well, you never _would_ have had it if you'd been protectedwith this liqueur of ours. It's death and burial on influenza, " andBrother Eusebius shook the bottle. 

"I consider, " said Mrs. Portheris solemnly, "that eucalyptus in anotherform saved my life. But I inhaled it. "

"Tho, " ventured Brother Demetrius, "tho did I. But the wine ith forinternal drinking. "

"Listen to him! _E_ternal drinking, that's what he means. You never sawsuch an old boy for the influenza--gets it every week or so. How manybottles, madam? Just a nip, after dinner, and you don't know how poeticit will make you feel into the bargain. "

"One bottle, " replied Mrs. Portheris, "the larger size, please. Anythingwith eucalyptus in it must be salutary. And as we are going underground, where it is bound to be damp, I think I'll have a little now. "

"That's what I call English common-sense, " exclaimed Brother Eusebius, getting out a glass. "Will nobody keep the lady company? It's Popish, but it's good. "

Nobody would. Momma observed rather uncautiously that the smell of itwas enough, at which Mrs. Portheris remarked, with some asperity, thatshe hoped Mrs. Wick would never be obliged to be indebted to the"smell. " "It is quite excellent, " she said, "_most_ cordial. I reallythink, as a precaution, I'll take another glass. "

"Isn't it pretty strong?" asked poppa. 

[Illustration: We followed the monks. ]

"The influenza is stronger, " replied Mrs. Portheris oracularly, andfinished her second potation. 

"And nothing, " said Brother Eusebius sadly, "for the gentleman standingoutside the door, who doesn't approve of encouraging the Roman CatholicChurch in any respect whatever. Dear me! dear me! we do get some queercustomers. " At which Mr. Mafferton frowned portentously. But nothingseemed to have any effect on Brother Eusebius. 

"There are such a lot of you, and you are sure to be so inquisitive, that we'll both go with you, " said he, and took candles from a shelf. Not ordinary candles at all--coils of long, slender strips, with one endturned up to burn. At the sight of them momma shuddered and said shehadn't thought it would be dark, and took the Senator's arm as aprecautionary measure. Then we followed the monks Eusebius andDemetrius, who wrapped shawls round their sloping shoulders and hurriedacross the grass towards the little brick entrance to the Catacombs, shading their candles from the wind that twisted their brown gowns roundtheir legs, with all the anxiety to get it over shown by janitors ofbuildings of this world. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

At first through the square chambers of the early Popes and the narrowpassages lined with empty cells, nearest to the world outside, we kepttogether, and it was mainly Eusebius who discoursed of the building ofthe Catacombs, which he informed us had a pagan beginning. 

"But our blessed early bishops said, 'Why should the devil have all theaccommodations?' and when once the Church got its foot in there wasn'tmuch room for _him_. But a few pagans there are here to this day inbetter company than they ever kept above ground, " remarked BrotherEusebius. 

"Can you tell them apart?" asked Mr. Dod, "the Christians and thePagans?"

"Yes, " replied that holy man, "by the measurements of the jaw-bone. TheChristians, you see, were always lecturing the other fellows, so theirjaw-bones grew to an awful size. Some of 'em are simply parliamentary. "

"Dat, " said Brother Demetrius anxiously--as nobody had laughed--"ith ajoke. "

"I noticed the intention, " said poppa. "It's down in the guide-bookthat you've been 'absolved from the vow of silence'--is that correct?"

"Right you are, " said Brother Eusebius. "What about it?"

"Oh, nothing--only it explains a good deal. I guess you enjoy it, don'tyou?"

But Brother Eusebius was bending over a cell in better preservation thanmost of them, and was illuminating with his candle the bones of thedweller in it. The light flickered on the skull of the Early Christianand the tonsure of the modern one and made comparisons. It also cut thedarkness into solid blocks, and showed us broken bits of marble, faintstains of old frescoes, strange rough letters, and where it waveredfurthest the uncertain lines of a graven cross. 

"Here's one of the original inhabitants, " remarked Eusebius. "He's beenhere all the time. I hope the ladies don't mind looking at him in hisbones?"

"Thee, you can pick him up, " said old Demetrius, handing a thigh-bone tomomma, who shrank from the privilege. "It ith quite dry. "

"It seems such a liberty, " she said, "and he looks so incomplete withoutit. Do put it back. "

"That's the way I feel, " remarked Dicky, "but I don't believe he'd mindour looking at a toe-bone. Are his toe-bones all there?"

"No, " replied Demetrius, "I have count another day and he ith nine only. Here ith a few. "

"It is certainly a very solemn and unusual privilege, " remarked Mr. Mafferton, as the toe-bones went round, "to touch the mortal remnant ofan Early Christian. "

"That altogether depends, " said the Senator, "upon what sort of an EarlyChristian he was. Maybe he was a saint of the first water, and maybe hewas a pillar of the church that ran a building society. Or, maybe, hewas only an average sort of Early Christian like you or me, in whichcase he must be very uncomfortable at the idea of inspiring so muchrespect. How are you going to tell?"

"The gentleman is right, " said Brother Eusebius, and in consideringpoppa's theory in its relation to the doubtful character before themnobody noticed, except me, the petty larceny, by Richard Dod, of oneEarly Christian toe-bone. His expression, I am glad to say, made methink he had never stolen anything before; but you couldn't imagine amore promising beginning for a career of embezzlement. As we moved on Imentioned to him that the man who would steal the toe-bone of an EarlyChristian, who had only nine, was capable of most crimes, at which heassured me that he hadn't such a thing about him outside of his boots, which shows how one wrong step leads to another. 

We fell presently into two parties--Dicky, Mrs. Portheris, and I holdingto the skirts of Brother Demetrius. Brother Demetrius knew a great dealabout the Latin inscriptions and the history of Pope Damasus and thechapel of the Bishops, and how they found the body of St. Cecilia, after eight hundred years, fresh and perfect, and dressed in richvestments embroidered in gold; but his way of imparting it seriouslyinterfered with the value of his information, and we looked regretfullyafter the other party. 

"Here we have de tomb of Anterus and Fabianus----"

"I think we should keep up with the rest, " interrupted Mrs. Portheris. 

"Oh, I too, I know all dese Catacomb--I will take you everywheres--andhere, too, we have buried Entychianus. "

"Where is Brother Eusebius taking the others?" asked Dicky. 

"Now I tell you: he mith all de valuable ting, he is too fat and lazy;only joke, joke, joke. And here we has buried Epis--martyr. Epis he wath_martyr_. "

The others, with their lights and voices, came into full view where fourpassages met in a cubicle. "Oh, " cried Isabel, catching sight of us, "_do_ come and see Jonah and the whale. It's too funny for anything. "

"And where Damathuth found here the many good thainth he----"

"We would like to see Jonah, " entreated Dicky. 

"Well, " said Brother Demetrius crossly, "you go thee him--you catch up. I will no more. You do not like my Englis' very well. You go with fatold joke-fellow, and I return the houth. Bethide, it ith the day of mylumbago. " And the venerable Demetrius, with distinct temper, turned hisback on us and waddled off. 

We looked at each other in consternation. 

"I'm afraid we've hurt his feelings, " said Dicky. 

"You must go after him, Mr. Dod, and apologize, " commanded Mrs. Portheris. 

"Do you suppose he knows the way out?" I asked. 

"It _is_ a shame, " said Dicky. "I'll go and tell him we'd rather havehim than Jonah any day. "

Brother Demetrius was just turning a corner. Darkness encompassed him, lying thick between us. He looked, in the light of his candle, likesomething of Rembrandt's suspended for a moment before us. Dicky startedafter him, and, presently, Mrs. Portheris and I were regarding eachother with more friendliness than I would have believed possible acrossour flaring dips in the silence of the Catacombs. 

"Poor old gentleman, " I said; "I hope Mr. Dod will overtake him. "

"So do I, indeed, " said Mrs. Portheris. "I fear we have been veryinconsiderate. But young people are always so impatient, " she added, andput the blame where it belonged. 

I did not retaliate with so much as a reproachful glance. Even as acensor Mrs. Portheris was so eminently companionable at the moment. Butas we waited for Dicky's return neither of us spoke again. It made toomuch noise. Minutes passed, I don't know how many, but enough for us tolook cautiously round to see if there was anything to sit on. Therewasn't, so Mrs. Portheris took my arm. We were not people to lean oneach other in the ordinary vicissitudes of life, and even under thecircumstances I was aware that Mrs. Portheris was a great deal tosupport, but there was comfort in every pound of her. At last a faintlight foreshadowed itself in the direction of Dicky's disappearance, andgrew stronger, and was resolved into a candle and a young man, and Mr. Dod, very much paler than when he left, was with us again. Mrs. Portheris and I started apart as if scientifically impelled, andexclaimed simultaneously, "Where is Brother Demetrius?"

"Nowhere in this graveyard, " said Dicky. "He's well upstairs by thistime. Must have taken a short cut. I lost sight of him in about twoseconds. "

"That was very careless of you, Mr. Dod, " said Mrs. Portheris, "verycareless indeed. Now we have no option, I suppose, but to rejoin theothers; and where are they?"

They were certainly not where they had been. Not a trace nor anecho--not a trace nor an echo--of anything, only parallelograms ofdarkness in every direction, and our little circle of light flickeringon the tombs of Anterus, and Fabianus, and Entychianus, andEpis--martyr--and we three within it, looking at each other. 

"If you don't mind, " said Dicky, "I would rather not go after them. Ithink it's a waste of time. Personally I am quite contented to haverejoined you. At one time I thought I shouldn't be able to, and the ideawas trying. "

"We wouldn't _dream_ of letting you go again, " said Mrs. Portheris and Isimultaneously. "But, " continued Mrs. Portheris, "we will all go insearch of the others. They can't be very far away. There is nothing soalarming as standing still. "

We proceeded along the passage in the direction of our last glimpse ofour friends and relatives, passing a number of most interestinginscriptions, which we felt we had not time to pause and decipher, andcame presently to a divergence which none of us could remember. Half ofthe passage went down three steps, and turned off to the left under anarch, and the other half climbed two, and immediately lost itself inblackness of darkness. In our hesitation Dicky suddenly stooped to atrace of pink in the stone leading upward, and picked it up--three rosepetals. 

"That settles it, " he exclaimed. "Isa--Miss Portheris was wearing arose. I gave it to her myself. "

"Did you, indeed, " said Isabel's mamma coldly. "My dear child, howanxious she will be!"

"Oh, I should think not, " I said hopefully. "I am sure she can trust Mr. Dod to take care of himself--and of us, too, for the matter of that. "

"Mr. Dod!" exclaimed Mrs. Portheris with indignation. "My poor child'sanxiety will be for her mother. "

And we let it go at that. But Dicky put the rose petals in his pocketwith the toe-bone, and hopefully remarked that there would be nodifficulty about finding her now. I mentioned that I had parents also, at that moment, lost in the Catacombs, but he did not apologize. 

The midnight of the place, as we walked on, seemed to deepen, and itssilence to grow more profound. The tombs passed us in solemn greyranges, one above the other--the long tombs of the grown-up people, andthe shorter ones of the children, and the very little ones of thebabies. The air held a concentrated dolor of funerals sixteen centuriesold, and the four dim stone walls seemed to have crept closer together. "I think I will take your arm, Mr. Dod, " said Mrs. Portheris, and "Ithink I will take your other arm, Mr. Dod, " said I. 

"Thank you, " replied Dicky, "I should be glad of both of yours, " whichmay look ambiguous now, but we quite understood it at the time. It maderather uncomfortable walking in places, but against that overwhelmingmajority of the dead it was comforting to feel ourselves a living unit. We stumbled on, taking only the most obvious turnings, and presently thepassage widened into another little square chamber. "More bishops!"groaned Dicky, holding up his candle. 

"Perhaps, " I replied triumphantly, "but Jonah, anyway, " and I pointedhim out on the wall, in two shades of brown, a good deal faded, beingprecipitated into the jaws of a green whale with paws and horns and asmile, also a curled body and a three-forked tail. The wicked deed hadtwo accomplices only, who had apparently stopped rowing to do it. Underneath was a companion sketch of the restitution of Jonah, inperfect order, by the whale, which had, nevertheless, grown considerablystouter in the interval, while an amiable stranger reclined in an arbor, with his hand under his head, and looked on. 

"As a child your intelligence promised well, " said Dicky; "that _is_Jonah, though not of the Revised Version. I don't think Bible storiesought to be illustrated, do you, Mrs. Portheris? It has such a badeffect on the imagination. "

"We can talk of that at another time, Mr. Dod. At present I wish to berestored to my daughter. Let us push on at once. And please explain howit is that we have had to walk so far to get to this place, which wasonly a few yards from where we were standing when Brother Demetrius leftus!" Mrs. Portheris's words were commanding, but her tone was the toneof supplication. 

"I'm afraid I can't, " said Dicky, "but for that very reason I think wehad better stay where we are. They are pretty sure to look for us here. "

"I cannot possibly wait to be looked for. I must be restored to mydaughter! You must make an effort, Mr. Dod. And, now that I think of it, I have left the key of our boxes in the drawer of the dressing-table, and the key of that is in it, and the housemaid has the key of theroom. It is absolutely necessary that I should go back to the hotel atonce. "

"My dear lady, " said Dicky, "don't you realize that we are lost?"

"Lost! Impossible! _Shout_, Mr. Dod!"

Dicky shouted, and all the Early Christians answered him. There are saidto be seven millions. Mrs. Portheris grasped his arm convulsively. 

"Don't do that again, " she said, "on any account. Let us go on!"

"Much better not, " protested Dicky. 

"On! on!" commanded Mrs. Portheris. There was no alternative. We putDicky in the middle again, and cautiously stepped out. A round of bluepaper under our chaperone's arm caught the eye of Mr. Dod. "What luck!"he exclaimed, "you have brought the liqueur with you, Mrs. Portheris. Ithink we'd better all have some, if you don't mind. I've been in warmercemeteries. "

As she undid the bottle, Mrs. Portheris declared that she already feltthe preliminary ache of influenza. She exhorted us to copious draughts, but it was much too nasty for more than a sip, though warming to adegree. 

"Better take very little at a time, " Dicky suggested, but Mrs. Portherisreaffirmed her faith in the virtues of eucalyptus, and with such majestyas was compatible with the neck of the bottle, drank deeply. Then westumbled on. Presently Mrs. Portheris yawned widely twice, thrice, andagain. "I beg your pardon, " said she, "I don't seem able to help it. "

"It's the example of these gaping sepulchres, " Dicky replied. "Don'tapologize. "

The passages grew narrower and more complex, the tombs more irregular. We came to one that partly blocked the path, tilted against the mainwall like a separate sarcophagus, though it was really part of the solidrock. Looking back, a wall seemed to have risen behind us; it was adistinctly perplexing moment, hard upon the nerves. The tomb was empty, except for a few bones that might have been anything huddled at thebottom, and Mrs. Portheris sat down on the lower end of it. "I really donot feel able to go any further, " she said; "the ascent is soperpendicular. "

I was going to protest that the place was as level as a street, butDicky forestalled me. "Eucalyptus, " he said soothingly, "often has thateffect. "

"We are lost, " continued Mrs. Portheris lugubriously, "in the Catacombs. We may as well make up our minds to it. We came here this morning at teno'clock, and I should think, I should think--thish mus' be minnight onthe following day. "

"My watch has run down, " said Dicky, "but you are probably quite right, Mrs. Portheris. "

"It is doubtful, " Mrs. Portheris went on, pulling herself together, "whether we are ever found. There are nine hundred miles of Catacombs. Unless we become cannibals we are likely to die of starvation. If we dobecome cannibals, Mr. Dod, " she added, sternly endeavouring to lookDicky in the eye, "I hope you will remember what ish due to ladies. "

"I will offer myself up gladly, " said he, and I could not helpreflecting upon the comfort of a third party with a sense of humourunder the circumstances. 

"Thass right, " said Mrs. Portheris, nodding approvingly, and muchoftener than was necessary. "Though there isn't much on you--you won'tgo very far. " Then after a moment of gloomy reflection she blew out hercandle, and, before I could prevent it, mine also. Dicky hastily put hisout of reach. 

"Three candles at once, " she said virtuously, "in a room of this size!It is wicked extravagance, neither more nor less. "

I assure you you would have laughed, even in the Catacombs, and Dickyand I mutually approached the borders of hysteria in our misplacedmirth. Mrs. Portheris smiled in unison somewhat foolishly, and we sawthat slumber was overtaking her. Gradually and unconsciously she slippeddown and back, and presently rested comfortably in the sepulchre of herselection, sound asleep. 

"She is right in it, " said Dicky, holding up his candle. "She's a lulu, "he added disgustedly, "with her eucalyptus. "

This was disrespectful, but consider the annoyance of losing a third ofour forces against seven million Early Christian ghosts. We sat down, Dicky and I, with our backs against the tomb of Mrs. Portheris, and whenDicky suggested that I might like him to hold my hand for a little whileI made no objection whatever. We decided that the immediate prospect, though uncomfortable, was not alarming, that we had been wandering aboutfor possibly an hour, judging by the dwindling of Dicky's candle, andthat search must be made for us as soon as ever the others went aboveground and heard from Brother Demetrius the tale of our abandonment. Isaid that if I knew anything about momma's capacity for undergroundwalking, the other party would have gone up long ago, and that searchfor us was, therefore, in all likelihood, proceeding now, though perhapsit would be wiser, in case we might want them, to burn only one candleat a time. We had only to listen intently and we would hear the voicesof the searchers. We did listen, but all that we heard was a faint fardistant moan, which Dicky tried to make me believe was the wind in aventilating shaft. We could also hear a prolonged thumping very close tous, but that we could each account for personally. And nothing more. 

"Dicky, " said I after a time, "if it weren't for the candle I believe Ishould be frightened. "

"It's about the most parsimonious style of candle I've ever seen, "replied Dicky, "but it would give a little more light if it weretrimmed. " And he opened his pocket-knife. 

"Be very careful, " I begged, and Dicky said "Rather!"

"Did you ever notice, " he asked, "that you can touch flame all right ifyou are only quick enough? Now, see me take the top off that candle. " IfDicky had a fault it was a tendency to boastfulness. He took the lightedwick between his thumb and his knife-blade, and skilfully scooped thetop off. It blazed for two seconds on the edge of the blade--just longenough to show us that all the flame had come with it. Then it went out, and in the darkness at my side I heard a scuffling among waistcoatpockets, and a groan. 

"No matches?" I asked in despair. 

"Left 'em in my light overcoat pockets, Mamie. I'm a bigger assthan--than Mafferton. "

"You are, " I said with decision. "No Englishman goes anywhere withouthis light overcoat. What have you done with yours?"

"Left it in the carriage, " replied Dick humbly. 

"That shows, " said I bitterly, "how little you have learned in England. Propriety in connection with you is evidently like water and a duck'sback. An intelligent person would have acquired the light overcoatprinciple in three days, and never have gone out without it afterward. "

"Oh, go on!" replied Dick fiercely. "Go on. I don't mind. I'm not sostuck on myself as I was. But if we've got to die together you might aswell forgive me. You'll have to do it at the last moment, you know. "

"I suppose you have begun to review your past life, " I said grimly, "andthat's why you are using so much American slang. "

Then, as Dicky was again holding my hands, I maintained a dignifiedsilence. You cannot possibly quarrel with a person who is holding yourhand, no matter how you feel. 

"There's only one thing that consoles me in connection with thosematches, " Dicky mentioned after a time. "They were French ones. "

"I don't know what that has to do with it, " I said. 

"That's because you don't smoke, " Dicky replied. And I had not the heartto pursue the inquiry. Time went on, black and silent, as it had beendoing down there for sixteen centuries. We stopped arguing about whythey didn't come to look for us, each privately wondering if it waspossible that we had strayed too ingeniously ever to be found. We talkedof many things to try to keep up our spirits, the conviction of the _St. James's Gazette_ that American young ladies live largely uponchewing-gum, and other topics far removed from our surroundings, but theeffort was not altogether successful. Dicky had just permitted himselfto make a reference to his mother in Chicago when a sound behind us madeus both start violently, and then cheered us immensely--a snore fromMrs. Portheris within the tomb. It was not, happily, a single accidentalsnore, but the forerunner of a regular series, and we hung upon them asthey issued, comforted and supported. We were vaguely aware that wecould have no better defence against disembodied Early Christians, when, in the course of an hour, Mrs. Portheris sat up suddenly among the bonesof the original occupant and asked what time it was. We felt a pang ofregret at losing it. 

After the first moment or two that lady realized the situationcompletely. "I suppose, " she said, "we have been down here about twodays. I am quite faint with hunger. I have often read that candles, under these terrible circumstances, are sustaining. What a good thing wehave got the candles. "

Dicky squeezed my hand nervously, but our chaperone had slept off theeucalyptus and had no longer one cannibal thought. 

"I don't think it is time for candles yet, " he said reassuringly. "Youhave been asleep, you know, Mrs. Portheris. "

"If you have eaten them already, I consider that you have taken anunfair advantage, a very unfair advantage. "

"Here is mine!" exclaimed Dicky nobly. "I hope I can deny myself, Mrs. Portheris, to that extent. "

"And mine, " I echoed; "but really, Mrs. Portheris----"

Another pressure of Dicky's hand reminded me--I am ashamed to confessit--that if Mrs. Portheris was bent upon the unnecessary consumption ofRoman tallow there was nothing in her past treatment of either of us toinduce us to prevent her. The dictates of humanity, I know, should haveinfluenced us otherwise, in connection with tallow, but they seemed forthe moment to have faded as completely out of our bosoms as they did outof the early Roman persecutors! It seemed to me that all my country'swrongs at the hands of Mrs. Portheris rose up and clamoured to beavenged, and Dicky told me afterward that he felt just the same way. 

"Then I have done you an injustice, " she continued; "I apologize, I amsure, and I find that I have my own candle, thank you. It is adhering tothe side of my bonnet. "

We were perfectly silent. 

"Perhaps I ought to try and wait a little longer, " Mrs. Portherishesitated, "but I feel such a sinking, and I assure you I have fallenaway. My garments are quite loose. "

"Of course it depends, " said Dicky scientifically, "upon the amount ofcarbon the system has in reserve. Personally I think I can hold out alittle longer. I had an excellent breakfast this m----, the day we camehere. But if I felt a sinking----"

"_Waugh!_" said Mrs. Portheris. 

"Have you--have you _begun_?" I exclaimed in agony, while Dicky shook insilence. 

"I have, " replied Mrs. Portheris hurriedly; "where--where is theeucalyptus? Ah! I have it!"

"_Ben-en-euh!_ It is nutritive, I am sure, but it requires a cordial. "

The darkness for some reason seemed a little less black and the silenceless oppressive. 

"I have only eaten about three inches, " remarked Mrs. Portherispresently. Dicky and I were incapable of conversation--"but I--but Icannot go on at present. It is really not nice. "

"An overdone flavour, hasn't it?" asked Dicky, between gasps. 

"Very much so! Horribly! But the eucalyptus will, I hope, enable me toextract some benefit from it. I think I'll lie down again. " And we heardthe sound of a cork restored to its bottle as Mrs. Portheris returned tothe tomb. It was quite half an hour before she woke up, declaring that awhole night had passed and that she was more famished than ever. "But, "she added, "I feel it impossible to go on with the candle. There issomething about the wick----"

"I know, " said Dicky sympathetically, "unless you are born in Greenland, you cannot really enjoy them. There is an alternative, Mrs. Portheris, but I didn't like to mention it----"

"I know, " she replied, "shoe leather. I have read of that, too, and Ithink it would be an improvement. Have you got a pocket-knife, Mr. Dod?"

Dicky produced it without a pang and we heard the rapid sound of anunbuttoning shoe. "I had these made to order at two guineas, in theBurlington Arcade, " said Mrs. Portheris regretfully. 

"Then, " said Dicky gravely, groping to hand her the knife, "they will beof good kid, and probably tender. "

"I hope so, indeed, " said Mrs. Portheris; "we must all have some. Willyou--will you _carve_, Mr. Dod?"

I remembered with a pang how punctilious they were in England aboutasking gentlemen to perform this duty, and I received one moreimpression of the permanence of British ideas of propriety. But Dickydeclined; said he couldn't undertake it--for a party, and that Mrs. Portheris must please help herself and never mind him, he would takeanything there was, a little later, with great hospitality. However, sheinsisted, and my portion, I know, was a generous one, a slice off theankle. Mrs. Portheris begged us to begin; she said it was so cheerlesseating by one's self, and made her feel quite greedy. 

"Really, " she said, "it is much better than candle--a little difficultto masticate perhaps, but, if I do say it myself, quite a tolerableflavour. If I only hadn't used that abominable French polish thismorning. What do _you_ think, Mr. Dod?"

"I think, " said Dicky, jumping suddenly to his feet, while my heartstood still with anticipation, "that if there's enough of that shoeleft, you had better put it on again, for I hear people calling us, " andthen, making a trumpet with his hands, Dicky shouted till all theRoman skeletons sufficiently intact turned to listen. But this time theanswer came back from their descendants, running with a flash oflanterns. 

[Illustration: Dicky shouted till the skeletons turned to listen. ]

 * * * * *

I will skip the scene of our reunion, because I am not good at matterswhich are moving, and we were all excessively moved. It is necessary toexplain, however, that Brother Demetrius, when he went above ground, felt his lumbago so acutely that he retired to bed, and was thereforenot visible when the others came up. As we had planned beforehand, theSenator decided to go on to the Jewish Catacombs, taking it for grantedthat we would follow, while Brother Eusebius, when he found Demetrius inbed, also took it for granted that we had gone on ahead. He did notinquire, he said, because the virtue of taciturnity being denied to themin the exercise of their business, they always diligently cultivated itin private. My own conviction was that they were not on speaking terms. Our friends and relatives, after looking at the Jewish Catacombs, haddriven back to the hotel, and only began to feel anxious at tea time, asthey knew the English refreshment-rooms were closed for the season, likeeverything else, and Isabel asserted with tears that if her mother wasabove ground she would not miss her tea. So they all drove back to theCatacombs, and effected our rescue after we had been immured for exactlyseven hours. I wish to add, to the credit of Mr. Richard Dod, that hehas never yet breathed a syllable to anybody about the manner in whichMrs. Portheris sustained nature during our imprisonment, although hemust often have been strongly tempted to do so. And neither haveI--until now. 

CHAPTER XV. 

"The thing that struck me on our drive to the hotel, " remarked momma, "was that Naples was almost entirely inhabited by the lower classes. "

"That is very noticeable indeed, " concurred Mr. Mafferton, who was alsothere for the first time. "The people of the place are no doubt in thecountry at this time of the year, but one would naturally expect to seemore respectable persons about. "

"Now you'll excuse me, Mafferton, " said the Senator, "but that's justone of those places where I lose the trail of the English language asused by the original inventors. Where do you draw the line ofdistinction between people and persons?"

"It's a mere Briticism, poppa, " I observed. Mr. Mafferton loathed beingobliged to defend his native tongue at any point. That very morning the_modus vivendi_ between us, that I had done so much for Dicky's sake toestablish, had been imperilled by my foolish determination to knowwhy all Englishmen pronounced "white" "wite. "

"I daresay, " said poppa gloomily, "but I am not on to it and I don'tsuppose I ever shall be. What struck me on the ride up through the citywas the perambulating bath. Going round on wheels to be hired out, justthe ordinary tin tub of commerce. The fellows were shoutingsomething--'Who'll buy a wash!' I suppose. But that's the disadvantageof a foreign language; it leaves so much to the imagination. "

"The goats were nice, " I said, "so promiscuous. I saw one of themlooking out of a window. "

"And the dear little horses with bells round their necks, " momma added, "and the tall yellow houses with the stucco dropping off, and especiallythe fruit shops and the flower stalls that make pictures down everynarrow street. Such _masses_ of colour!"

"We might have hit on a worse hotel, " observed Mr. Mafferton. "Verytolerable soup, to-night. "

"I can't say I noticed the soup, " said the Senator. "Fact is, soup to meis just--soup. I presume there are different kinds, but beyond knowingmost of them from gruel I don't pretend to be a connoisseur. "

"What nonsense, Alexander!" said momma sternly. 

"Some are saltier than others, Augusta, I admit. But what I was going onto say was that for clear monotony the dinner programmes ever sinceParis have beaten the record. Bramley told me how it would be. Consommy, he said--that's soup--consommy, the whole enduring time. Fish _frité_ orfried, roast beef _à l'Italienne_ or mixed up with vegetables. Beans--well, just beans, and if you don't like 'em you can leave 'em, but that fourth course is never anything but beans. After that you geta chicken cut up with lettuce, because if it was put on the table wholesome disappointed investigator might find out there was nothing insideand file a complaint. Anything to support that unstuffed chicken? Nope. Finishing up with a compote of canned fruit, mostly California pearsthat want more cooking, and after that cheese, if you like cheese, andcoffee charged extra. Thanks to Bramley, I can't say I didn't know whatto expect, but that doesn't increase the variety any. Now in America--Iunderstand you have been to America, sir?"

"I have travelled in the States to some extent, " responded Mr. Mafferton. 

"Seen Brooklyn Bridge and the Hudson, I presume. Had a look at NiagaraFalls and a run out to Chicago, maybe. That was before I had thepleasure of meeting you. Get as far as the Yosemite? No? Well, you werethere long enough anyhow to realise that our hotels are run on the freewill system. "

"I remember, " said Mr. Mafferton. "All the luxuries of the comingseason, printed on a card usually about a foot long. A great variety, and very difficult to understand. When I had finished trying totranslate the morning paper, I used to attack the card. I found that itthrew quite a light upon early American civilisation from the aboriginalside. 'Hominy, ' 'Grits, ' 'Buckwheats, ' 'Cantelopes, ' are some of thedishes I remember. 'Succotash, ' too, and 'creamed squash, ' but I thinkthey occurred at dinner generally. I used to summon the waiter, andwhen he came to take my orders I would ask him to derive those dishes. Ihad great difficulty after a time in summoning a waiter. But the plangave me many interesting half hours. In the end I usually ordered achop. "

"I don't want to run down your politics, " poppa said, "but that's what Icall being too conservative. Augusta, if you have had enough of the Bayof Naples and the moon, I might remind you of the buried city ofPompeii, which is on for to-morrow. It's a good long way out, and you'llwant all your powers of endurance. I'm going down to have a smoke, and alook at the humorous publications of Italy. There's no sort ofsociability about these hotels, but the head _portier_ knows a littleEnglish. "

"I suppose I had better retire, " momma admitted, "though I sometimeswish Mr. Wick wasn't so careful of my nervous system. Delicious scene, good-night. " And she too left us. 

We were sitting in a narrow balcony that seemed to jut out of a horn ofthe city's lovely crescent. Dicky and Isabel occupied chairs at adistance nicely calculated to necessitate a troublesome raising of thevoice to communicate with them. Mrs. Portheris was still confined to herroom with what was understood to be the constitutional shock of herexperiences in the Catacombs. Dicky, in joyful privacy, assured me thatnobody could recover from a combination of Roman tallow and French kidin less than a week, but I told him he did not know the Britishconstitution. 

[Illustration: We were sitting in a narrow balcony. ]

The moon sailed high over Naples, and lighted the lapping curve of herperfect bay in the deepest, softest blue, and showed us some of thenearer houses of the city, sloping and shouldering and creeping down, that they were pink and yellow and parti-coloured, while the rest curvedand glimmered round the water in all tender tones of white holding up athousand lamps. And behind, curving too, the hills stood clear, with thegrey phantom of Vesuvius in sharp familiar lines, sending up its streamof steady red, and now and then a leaping flame. It was a scene to wakethe latent sentiment of even a British bosom. I thought I would stay alittle longer. 

"So you usually ordered a chop?" I said by way of resuming theconversation. "I hope the chops were tender. "

(I have a vague recollection that my intonation was. )

"There are worse things in the States than the mutton, " replied Mr. Mafferton, moving his chair to enable him, by twisting his neck not tooostentatiously, to glance occasionally at Dicky and Isabel, "but thesteaks were distinctly better than the chops--distinctly. "

"So all connoisseurs say, " I replied respectfully. "Would you like tochange seats with me? I don't mind sitting with my back to--Vesuvius. "

Mr. Mafferton blushed--unless it was the glow from the volcano. 

"Not on my account, " he said. "By any means. "

"You do not fear a demonstration, " I suggested. "And yet the forces ofnature are very uncertain. That is your English nerve. It deserves allthat is said of it. "

Mr. Mafferton looked at me suspiciously. 

"I fancy you must be joking, " he said. 

He sometimes complained that the great bar to his observation of theAmerican character was the American sense of humour. It was one of thethings he had made a note of, as interfering with the intelligentstranger's enjoyment of the country. 

"I suppose, " I replied reproachfully, "you never pause to think howunkind a suspicion like that is? When one _wishes_ to be takenseriously. "

"I fear I do not, " Mr. Mafferton confessed. "Perhaps I jump ratherhastily to conclusions sometimes. It's a family trait. We get it throughthe Warwick-Howards on my mother's side. "

"Then, of course, there can't be any objection to it. But when one knowsa person's opinion of frivolity, always to be thought frivolous by theperson is hard to bear. Awfully. "

And if my expression, as I gazed past this Englishman at Vesuvius, wasone of sad resignation, there was nothing in the situation to exhilarateanybody. 

The impassive countenance of Mr. Mafferton was disturbed by a ray ofconcern. The moonlight enabled me to see it quite clearly. "Pray, MissWick, " he said, "do not think that. Who was it that wrote----"

 "A little humour now and then Is relished by the wisest men. "

"I don't know, " I said, "but there's something about it that makes methink it is English in its origin. Do you _really_ endorse it?"

"Certainly I do. And your liveliness, Miss Wick, if I may say so, iscertainly one of your accomplishments. It is to some extent a racialcharacteristic. You share it with Mr. Dod. "

I glanced in the direction of the other two. "They seem desperatelybored with each other, " I said. "They are not saying anything. Shall wejoin them?"

"Dod is probably sulking because I am monopolising you. Mrs. Portheris, you see, has let me into the secret"--Mr. Mafferton looked _very_arch--"By all means, if you think he ought to be humoured. "

"No, " I said firmly, "humouring is very bad for Dicky. But I don't thinkhe should be allowed to wreak his ill-temper on Isabel. "

"I have noticed a certain lack of power to take the initiative aboutMiss Portheris, " said Mr. Mafferton coldly, "especially when her motheris not with her. She seems quite unable to extricate herself fromsituations like the present. "

"She is so young, " I said apologetically, "and besides, I don't thinkyou could expect her to go quite away and leave us here together, youknow. She would naturally have foolish ideas. She doesn't know anythingabout our irrevocable Past. "

"Why should she care?" asked Mr. Mafferton hypocritically. 

"Oh, " I said. "I don't know, I'm sure. Only Mrs. Portheris----"

"She is certainly a charming girl, " said Mr. Mafferton. 

"And _so_ well brought up, " said I. 

"Ye-es. Perhaps a little self-contained. "

"She has no need to rely upon her conversation. " I observed. 

"I don't know. The fact is----"

"What is the fact?" I asked softly. "After all that has passed I think Imay claim your confidence, Mr. Mafferton. " I had some difficultyafterwards in justifying this, but it seemed entirely appropriate at thetime. 

"The fact is, that up to three weeks ago I believed Miss Portheris to bethe incarnation of so many unassuming virtues and personal charms that Iwas almost ready to make a fresh bid for domestic happiness in hersociety. I have for some time wished to marry----"

"I know, " I said sympathetically. 

"But during the last three weeks I have become a little uncertain. "

"There shouldn't be the _slightest_ uncertainty, " I observed. 

"Marriage in England is such a permanent institution. "

"I have known it to last for years even in the United States, " Isighed. 

"And it is a serious responsibility to undertake to reciprocate in fullthe devotion of an attached wife. "

"I fancy Isabel is a person of strong affections, " I said; "one noticesit with her mother. And any one who could dote on Mrs. Portheris wouldcertainly----"

"I fear so, " said Mr. Mafferton. 

"I understand, " I continued, "why you hesitate. And really, feeling asyou do, I wouldn't be precipitate. "

"I won't, " he said. 

"Watch the state of your own heart, " I counselled, "for some littletime. You may be sure that hers will not alter;" and, as we saidgood-night, I further suggested that it would be a kindness if Mr. Mafferton would join my lonely parent in the smoking-room. 

I don't know what happened on the balcony after that. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

"Mamma, " said Isabel, as we gathered in the hotel vestibule for thestart to Pompeii, "is really not fit to undertake it. "

"You'll excuse me, Aunt Caroline, " remarked the Senator, "but yourcomplexion isn't by any means right yet. It's a warm day and a longdrive. Just as likely as not you'll be down sick after it. "

"Stuff!" said Mrs. Portheris. "I thank my stars _I_ have got noenfeebled American constitution. I am perfectly equal to it, thank you. "

"It's most unwise, " observed Mr. Mafferton. 

"Darned--I mean extremely risky, " sighed Dicky. 

Mrs. Portheris faced upon them. "And pray what do _you_ know about it?"she demanded. 

Then momma put in her oar, taking most unguardedly a privilege ofrelationship. "Of course, you are the best judge of how you feelyourself, Aunt Caroline, but we are told there are some steps to ascendwhen we get there--and you know how fleshy you are. "

In the instant of ominous silence which occurred while Mrs. Portheriswas getting her chin into the angle of its greatest majesty, Mr. Mafferton considerately walked to the door. When it was accomplishedshe looked at momma sideways and down her nose, precisely in the mannerof the late Mr. Du Maurier's ladies in _Punch_, in the same state ofmind. She might have sat or stood to him. It was another ideal realised. 

"That is the latest, the very latest Americanism which I have observedin your conversation, Augusta. In your native land it may be admissible, but please understand that I cannot permit it to be applied to mepersonally. To English ears it is offensive, very offensive. It is alsoquite improper for you to assume any familiarity with my figure. As yousay, _I_ may be aware of its corpulence, but nobody else--er--canpossibly know anything about it. "

Momma was speechless, and, as usual, the Senator came to the rescue. Henever will allow momma to be trampled on, and there was distinctretaliation in his manner. "Look here, aunt, " he said, "there's nothingprofane in saying you're fleshy when you _are_, you know, and you don'tneed to remove so much as your bonnet strings for the general public tobe aware of it. And when you come to America don't you ever insultanybody by calling her corpulent, which is a perfectly indecentexpression. Now if you won't go back to bed and tranquillise yourmind--on a plain soda----"

"I won't, " said Mrs. Portheris. 

"De carriages is already, " said the head porter, glistening with anamiability of which we all appreciated the balm. And we entered thecarriages--Mrs. Portheris and the downcast Isabel and Mr. Mafferton inone, and momma, poppa, Dicky, and I in the other. For no American wouldhave been safe in Mrs. Portheris's carriage for at least two hours, andthis came home even to Mr. Dod. 

"Never again!" exclaimed momma as we rattled down among the narrowstreets that crowd under the Funicular railway. "Never again will I callthat woman Aunt Caroline. "

"Don't call her fleshy, my dear, that's what really irritated her, "remarked the Senator. The Senator's discrimination, I have oftennoticed, is not the nicest thing about him. 

Hours and hours it seemed to take, that drive to Pompeii. Past theambitious confectioner with his window full of cherry pies, each cherryround and red and shining like a marble, and the plate glass dry-goodsstore where ready-made costumes were displayed that looked as if theymight fit just as badly as those of Westbourne Grove, and so by degreesand always down hill through narrower and shabbier streets where all thewomen walked bareheaded and the shops were mostly turned out on thepavement for the convenience of customers, and a good many of them wentup and down in wheelbarrows. And often through narrow ways sohigh-walled and many-windowed that it was quite cool and dusky downbelow, and only a strip of sun showed far up along the roofs of oneside. Here and there a wheelbarrow went strolling through these streetstoo, and we saw at least one family marketing. From a little squarewindow a prodigious way up came, as we passed, a cry with custom in it, and a wheelbarrow paused beneath. Then down from the window by a long, long rope slid a basket from the hands of a young woman leaning out inred, and the vendor took the opportunity of sitting down on his barrowhandle till it arrived. Soldi and a piece of paper he took out of thebasket and a cabbage and onions he put in, and then it went swingingupwards and he picked up his barrow again, and we rattled on and lefthim shouting and pushing his hat back--it was not a soft felt but abowler--to look up at the other windows. In spite of the bowler it was apicturesque and Neapolitan incident, and it left us much divided as tothe contents of the piece of paper. 

"My idea is, " said the Senator, "that the young woman in the red jerseywas the hired girl and that note was what you might call a clandestinecommunication. "

"Since we are in Naples, " remarked Mr. Dod, "I think, Senator, yourdeduction is correct. Where we come from a slavey with any self-respectwould put her sentiments on a gilt-edged correspondence card in ascented envelope with a stamp on the outside and ask you to kindly dropit into the pillar box on your way to business; but this chimes in withall you read about Naples. "

"Perfectly ridiculous!" said momma. "Mark my words, that note was eithera list of vegetables wanted, or an intimation that if they weren't goingto be fresher than the last, that man needn't stop for orders infuture. And in a country as destitute of elevators as this one is Isuppose you couldn't keep a servant a week if you didn't let her savethe stairs somehow. But I must say if I were going to have cabbage andonions the same day I wouldn't like the neighbours to know it. "

I entirely agreed with momma, and was reflecting, while they talked ofsomething else, on the injustice of considering ours the sentimentalsex, when the Senator leaned forward and advised me in an undertone tomake a note of the market basket. 

"And take my theory to account for the piece of paper, " said he; "yourmother's may be the most likely, but mine is _what the public willexpect_. "

And always the shadows of the narrow streets crooked in the end into alittle plaza full of sun and beggars, and lemonade stands, and hawkersof wild strawberries, and when the great bank of a flower-stall stoodjust where the shadow ended sharply and the sun began, it made somethingto remember. After that our way lay through a suburban parish _fête_, and we pursued it under strings and strings of little glass lanterns, red, and green, and blue, that swung across the streets; and there weregoats and more children, and momma vainly endeavoured to keep off thesmells with her parasol. Then a region of docks and masts risingunexpectedly, and many little fish shops, and a glitter of scales on thepavement, and disconnected coils of rope, and lounging men withearrings, and unkempt women with babies, and above and over all thewarm scent, standing still in the sun, of hemp, and tar, and the sea. 

"The city, " said the Senator, casting his practised eye on a piece ofdead wall that ran along the pavement, "is evidently in the turmoil of ageneral election, though you mightn't notice it. It's the third timeI've seen those posters '_Viva il Prefétto!_' and '_Viva L'opposizione!_That seems to be about all they can do, just as if we contented ourselveswith yelling ''Rah for Bryan!' 'One more for McKinley!' I must say if theyhaven't any more notion of business than that they don't either of 'emdeserve to get there. "

"In France, " observed Mr. Dod, "they stick up little handbills addressedto their '_chers concitoyens_' as if voters were a lot of baa-lambs andwillie-boys. It makes enervating reading. "

"Young man, " said poppa in a burst of feeling, "they say the Americaneagle might keep her beak shut with advantage, more than she does; but Itell you, " and the Senator's hand came down hard on Dicky's knee, "atrip around Europe is enough to turn her into a singing bird, sir, asinging bird. "

I don't get my imagination entirely from momma. 

"_Viva il Prefétto! Viva L'opposizione!_" poppa repeated pityingly, asanother pair of posters came in sight. "Well, it won't ever do theGovernment of Italy any good, but I guess I'm with the _Opposizione_. "

The road grew emptier and sandy white, and commerce forsook it but forhere and there a little shop with fat yellow bags, which were thepeople's cheeses, hanging in bladders at the door. Crumbled gatewaysbegan to appear, and we saw through them that the villa gardens insideran down and dropped their rose leaves into the blue of theMediterranean. We met the country people going their ways to town; theylooked at us with friendly patronage, knowing all about us, what we hadcome to see, and the foolishness of it, and especially the ridiculouscost of _carozza_ that take people to Pompeii. And at last, just as thesun and the jolting and the powdery white dust combined had instigatedus all to suggest to the Senator how much better it would have been tocome by rail, the ponies made a glad and jingling sweep under theacacias of the Hôtel Diomede, which is at the portals of Pompeii. 

It seemed a casual and a cheerful place, full of open doors andproprietary Neapolitans who might have been brothers and sisters-in-law, whose conversation we interrupted coming in. There had been domesticpotations; a very fat lady, with a horn comb in her hair, wiped liquidrings off the table with her apron, removing the glasses, while acollarless male person with an agreeable smile and a soft felt hatplaced wooden chairs for us in a row. Poppa knows no Italian, but theyseemed to understand from what he said that we wanted things to drink, and brought us with surprising accuracy precisely what each of uspreferred, lemonade for momma and me, and beverages consisting largely, though not entirely, of soda water for the Senator and Mr. Dod. Whilewe refreshed ourselves, another, elderly, grizzled, and one-eyed, cameand took up a position just outside the door opposite and sang a song ofadventurous love, boxing his own ears in the chorus with the liveliesteffect. A further agreeable person waited upon us and informed us thathe was the interpreter, he would everything explain to us, that this wasa beggar man who wanted us to give him some small money, but there wasno compulsion if we did not wish to do so. I think he gave us thatinterpretation for nothing. The fat lady then produced a large fan whichshe waved over us assiduously, and the collarless man in the soft hatstood by to render aid in any further emergency, smiling upon us as ifwe were delicacies out of season. Poppa bore it as long as he could, andwe all made an unsuccessful effort to appear as if we were quiteaccustomed to as much attention and more in the hotels of America; butin a very few minutes we knew all the disadvantages of being of too muchimportance. Presently the one-eyed man gave way to a pair of players onthe flute and mandolin. 

"Look here, " said poppa at this, to the interpreter, "you folks areputting yourselves out on our account a great deal more than isnecessary. We are just ordinary travelling public, and you don't need toentertain us with side shows that we haven't ordered any more than if webelonged to your own town. See?" But the interpreter did not see. Hebeckoned instead to an engaging daughter of the fat lady, who approachedmodestly with a large book of photographs, which she opened before theSenator, kneeling beside his chair. 

"Great Scott!" exclaimed poppa, "I'm not a crowned head. Rise, MissDiomede. "

Removing his cigar, he assisted the young lady to her feet and led herto a sofa at the other end of the room, where, as they turned over thephotographs together, I heard him ask her if she objected to tobacco. 

"You may go, " said momma to the interpreter, "and explain the scenes. Mr. Wick will enjoy them much more if he understands them. " The freedomfrom conventional restraint which characterises American society veryseldom extends to married gentlemen. 

We had to wait twenty minutes for the other party, on account of theirBritish objection to anybody's dust. Even Mr. Mafferton looked quelledwhen they arrived, and Isabel quite abject, while Mrs. Portheris worethat air of justification which no circumstance could impair, which wasparticularly her own. She would not sit down. "It gives these people aclaim on you, " she said. "I did not come here to run up an hotel bill, but to see Pompeii. Pompeii I demand to see. " The players on the fluteand mandolin looked at Mrs. Portheris consideringly and then strolledaway, and the guide, with a sorrowful glance at the landlady, put on hishat. "I can explain you everything, " he said with an inflection thatplaced the responsibility for remaining in ignorance upon our own heads, but Mrs. Portheris waved him away with her fan. "No, " she said. "I begthat this man shall not be allowed to inflict himself upon our party. I particularly desire to form my own impression of the historic city, that city that did so much for the reputation of Sir Henry BulwerLytton. Besides, these people mount up ridiculously, and with servantsat home on half wages, and Consols in the state they are, one is reallycompelled to economise. "

[Illustration: "I'm not a crowned head!"]

It was difficult to protest against Mrs. Portheris's regulations, andimpossible to contravene them, so I have nothing to report of that guidebut his card, which bore the name "Antonio Plicco, " and his memory, which is a blank. 

There was an ascent, and Mrs. Portheris mounted it proudly. I pointedout to poppa half-way up that his esteemed relative hadn't turned ahair, but he was inclined to be incredulous; said you couldn't tell whatwas going on in the Department of the Interior. The Senator often uses apolitical reference to carry him over a delicate allusion. Floweringshrubs and bushes lined the path we climbed, silent in the sunshine, dustily decorative, and at the top the turning of a key let us into astrange place. Always a strange place, however often the guide-booksbeat their iterations upon it, a place that leaps at imagination, peering into other days through the mists that lie between, and blindsit with a rush of light--the place where they have gathered togetherwhat was left of the dead Pompeiians and their world. There they laybefore us for our wonderment as they ran, and tripped, and struggled, and fell in the night of that day when they and the gods together wereoverwhelmed, and they died as they thought in the end of time. Andthrough an open door Vesuvius sent up its eternal gentle woolly curlagain the daylight sky, and vineyards throve, and birds sang, and we, who had survived the gods, came curious to look. The figures lay inglass cases, and Dicky remarked, with unusual seriousness, that it waslike a dead-house. 

"Except, " said poppa, "that in this mortuary there isn't ever going tobe anybody who can identify the remains. When you come to think ofit--that's kind of hard. "

"No chance of Christian burial once you get into a museum, " said Dickwith solicitude. 

"I should like, " remarked Mrs. Portheris, polishing her _pince nez_ toget a better view of a mother and daughter lying on their faces. "Ishould like to see the clergyman who would attempt it. These people wereheathen, and richly deserved their fate. Richly!"

Momma looked at her husband's Aunt Caroline with indignant scorn. "Doyou really think so?" she asked, but we could all see that her wordswere a very inadequate expression for her emotions. Mrs. Portheris drewall the guns of her orthodoxy into line for battle. "I am surprised----"she began, and then the Senator politely but firmly interfered. 

"Ladies, " he said, "'_De mortuis nisi bonum_, ' which is to say it isn'tcustomary to slang corpses, especially, as you may say, in theirpresence. I guess we can all be thankful, anyhow, that heathen nowadayshave got a cooler earth to live on, " and that for the moment was the endof it, but momma still gazed commiseratingly at the figures, with asuspicious tendency to look for her handkerchief. 

"It's too terrible, " she said. "We can actually see their _features_. "

"Don't let them get on your nerves, Augusta, " suggested poppa. 

"I won't if I can help it. But when you see their clothes and their hairand realise----"

"It happened over eighteen hundred years ago, my dear, and most of themgot away. "

"That didn't make it any better for those who are now before us, " andmomma used her handkerchief threateningly, though it was only inconnection with her nose. 

"Well now, Augusta, I hate to destroy an illusion like that, becausethey're not to be bought with money, but since you're determined to workyourself up over these unfortunates, I've got to expose them to you. They're not the genuine remains you take them for. They're mereworthless imitations. "

"Alexander, " said momma suspiciously, "you never hesitate to tamper withthe truth if you think it will make me any more comfortable. I don'tbelieve you. "

"All right, " returned the Senator; "when we get home you ask Bramley. Itwas Bramley that put me on to it. Whenever one of those Pompeii fellowsdropped, the ashes kind of caked over him, and in the course of timethere was a hole where he had been. See? And what you're looking at isjust a collection of those holes filled up with composition and then dugout. Mere holes!"

"The illusion is dreadfully perfect, " sighed momma. "Fancy dying like abaked potato in hot ashes! Somehow, Alexander, I don't seem able to getover it, " and momma gazed with distressed fascination at the grim formof the negro porter. 

"We've got no proper grounds for coming to that conclusion either, "replied poppa firmly. "Just as likely they were suffocated by the gasthat came up out of the ground. "

"Oh, if I could think that!" momma exclaimed with relief. "But if I findyou've been deceiving me, Alexander, I'll never forgive you. It's _too_solemn!"

"You ask Bramley, " I heard the Senator reply. "And now come and tell meif this loaf of bread somebody baked eighteen hundred and twentysomething years ago isn't exactly the same shape as the Naples bakersare selling right now. "

"Daughter, " said momma as she went, "I hope you are taking copiousnotes. This is the wonder of wonders that we behold to-day. " I said Iwas, and I wandered over to where Mrs. Portheris examined with Mr. Mafferton an egg that was laid on the last day of Pompeii. Mrs. Portheris was asking Mr. Mafferton, in her most impressive manner, if itwas not too wonderful to have positive proof that fowls laid eggs thenjust as they do now; and I made a note of that too. Dicky and Isabelbemoaned the fate of the immortal dog who still bites his flank in thepain extinguished so long ago. I hardly liked to disturb them, but Iheard Dicky say as I passed that he didn't mind much about the humans, they had their chance, but this poor little old tyke was tied up, andthat on the part of Providence was playing it low down. 

Then we all stepped out into the empty streets of Pompeii and Mr. Mafferton read to us impressively, from Murray, the younger Pliny'sletter to Tacitus describing its great disaster. The Senator listenedthoughtfully, for Pliny goes into all kinds of interesting details. "Ihaven't much acquaintance with the classics, " said he, as Mr. Maffertonfinished, "but it strikes me that the modern New York newspaper was themedium to do that man justice. It's the most remarkable case I'venoticed of a good reporter _born before his time_. "

"A terrible retribution, " said Mrs. Portheris, looking severely at theTavern of Phoebus, forever empty of wine-bibbers. "They worshippedJupiter, I understand, and other deities even less respectable. Can wewonder that a volcano was sent to destroy them! One thing we may bequite sure of--if the city had only turned from its wickedness andembraced Christianity, this never would have happened. "

Momma compressed her lips and then relaxed them again to say, "I thinkthat idea perfectly ridiculous. " I scented battle and hung upon theissue, but the Senator for the third time interposed. 

"Why no, Augusta, " he said, "I guess that's a working hypothesis of AuntCaroline's. Here's Vesuvius smokin' away ever since just the same, andthere's Naples with a bishop and the relics of Saint Januarius. You canread in your guide-book that whenever Vesuvius has looked as if he meantbusiness for the past few hundred years, the people of Naples havesimply called on the bishop to take out the relics of Saint Januariusand walk 'em round the town; and that's always been enough for Vesuvius. Now the Pompeii folks didn't know a saint or a bishop by sight, andJupiter, as Aunt Caroline says, was never properly qualified tointerfere. That's how it was, I _presume_. I don't suppose the people ofNaples take much stock in the laws of nature; they don't have to, withJanuarius in a drawer. And real estate keeps booming right along. "

"You have an extraordinary way of putting things, " remarked Mrs. Portheris to her nephew. "Very extraordinary. But I am glad to hear thatyou agree with me, " and she looked as if she did not understand momma'sacquiescent smile. 

We went our several ways to see the baths, and the Comic Theatre, thebakehouse and the gymnasium; and I had a little walk by myself in theStreet of Abundance, where the little empty houses waited patiently oneither side for those to return who had gone out, and the sun lay fullon their floors of dusty mosaic, and their gardens where nothing grew. It seemed to me, as it seems to everybody, that Pompeii was not dead, but asleep, and her tints were so clear and gay that her dreams might bethose of a ballet-girl. A solitary yellow dog chased a lizard in thesun, and the pebbles he knocked about made an absurdly disturbing noise. Beyond the vague tinted roofless walls that stretched over the pleasantlittle peninsula, the blue sea rippled tenderly, remembering muchdelight, and the place seemed to smile in its sleep. It was easy tounderstand why Cicero chose to have his villa in the midst of suchlight-heartedness, and why the gods, perhaps, decided that they had lenttoo much laughter to Pompeii. I made free of the hospitality ofCornelius Rufus and sat for a while in his _exedra_, where he himself, in marble on a little pillar in the middle of the room, made me aswelcome as if I had been a client or a neighbour. We considered eachother across the centuries, making mutual allowances, and spent the mostsociable half-hour. I take a personal interest in the city's disasternow--it overwhelmed one of my friends. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

On the Lungarno in Florence, in the cool of the evening, we walkedtogether, the Senator, momma, Dicky, and I. Dicky radiated depression, if such a thing is atmospherically possible; we all moved in it. Mr. Dodhad been banished from the Portheris party, and he groaned over thereflection that it was his own fault. At Pompeii I had exerted myself inhis interest to such an extent that Mr. Mafferton detached himself fromMrs. Portheris and attached himself to momma for the drive home. Littledid I realise that one could be too agreeable in a good cause. Dickyinsinuated himself with difficulty into Mr. Mafferton's vacant placeopposite Mrs. Portheris, and even before the carriages started I sawthat he was going to have a bad time. His own version of the experiencewas painful in the extreme, and he represented the climax as havingoccurred just as they arrived at the hotel. The unfortunate youth musthave been goaded to his fate, for his general attitude toward matters oforthodoxy was most discreet. 

"There is something _Biblical_, " said Mrs. Portheris (so Dicky related), "that those Pompeiian remains remind me of, and I cannot think what itis. "

"Lot's wife, mamma?" said Isabel. 

"_Quite_ right, my child--what a memory you have! That wretched womanwho stopped to look back at the city where careless friends andrelatives were enjoying themselves, indifferent to their coming fate, indirect disobedience to the command. Of course, she turned to salt, andthese people to ashes, but she must have looked very much like them whenthe process was completed. "

That was Dicky's opportunity for restraint and submission, but he seemedto have been physically unable to take it. He rushed, instead, blindlyto perdition. "I don't believe that yarn, " he said. 

There was a moment's awful silence, during which Dicky said he countedhis heart-beats and felt as if he had announced himself an atheist or aJew, and then his sentence fell. 

"In that case, Mr. Dod, I must infer that you are opposed to thedoctrine of the complete inspiration of Holy Writ. If you do not believein that, I shudder to think of what you may not believe in. I will sayno more now, but after dinner I will be obliged to speak to you for afew minutes, privately. Thank you, I can get out without assistance. "

And after dinner, privately, Dicky learned that Mrs. Portheris had forsome time been seriously considering the effect of his, to her, painfully flippant views, upon the opening mind of her daughter--thechild had only been out six months--and that his distressingannouncement of this morning left her in no further doubt as to herpath of duty. She would always endeavour to have as kindly arecollection of him as possible, he had really been very obliging, butfor the present she must ask him to make some other travellingarrangements. Cook, she believed, would always change one's tickets lessten per cent. , but she would leave that to Dicky. And she hoped, she_sincerely_ hoped, that time would improve his views. When that wasaccomplished she trusted he would write and tell her, but not before. 

"And while I'm getting good and ready to pass an examination in Noah, Jonah, and Methuselah, " remarked Dicky bitterly, as we discussed thesituation on the Lungarno for the seventh time that day, "Maffertonsails in. "

"Why didn't you tell her plainly that you wanted to marry Isabel, andwould brook no opposition?" I demanded, for my stock of sympathy wasgetting low. 

"Now that's a valuable suggestion, isn't it?" returned Mr. Dod withsarcasm. "Good old psychological moment that was, wasn't it? Talk aboutgirls having tact! Besides, I've never told Isabel herself yet, and I'mnot the American to give in to the effete and decaying custom of askinga girl's poppa, or momma if it's a case of widow, first. Not RichardDod. "

"What on earth, " I exclaimed, "have you been doing all this time?"

"Now go slow, Mamie, and don't look at me like that. I've been trying tomake her acquainted with me--explaining the kind of fellow Iam--getting solid with her. See?"

"Showing her the beauties of your character!" I exclaimed derisively. 

"I said something about the defects, too, " said Dicky modestly, "thoughnot so much. And I was getting on beautifully, though it isn't so easywith an English girl. They don't seem to think it's proper to analyseyour character. They're so maidenly. "

"And so unenterprising, " I said, but I said it to myself. 

"Isabel was actually beginning to _lead up to the subject_, " Dicky wenton. "She asked me the other day if it was true that all American menwere flirts. In another week I should have felt that she would know whatwas proposing to her. "

"And you were going to wait another week?"

"Well, a man wants every advantage, " said Dicky blandly. 

"Did you explain to Isabel that you were only joining our party in thehope of meeting her accidentally soon again?"

"What else, " asked he in pained surprise, "should I have joined it for?No, I didn't; I hadn't the chance, for one thing. You took the firsttrain back to Rome next morning, you know. She wasn't up. "

"True, " I responded. "Momma said not another hour of her husband's AuntCaroline would she ever willingly endure. She said she would spend herentire life, if necessary, in avoiding the woman. " But Dicky had notfollowed the drift of my thought. 

I added vaguely, "I hope she will understand it"--I really couldn't bemore definite--and bade Mr. Dod good-night. He held my handabsent-mindedly for a moment, and mentioned the effectiveness of thePonte Vecchio from that point of view. 

"I didn't feel bound to change my tickets less ten per cent. , " he saidhopefully, "and we're sure to come across them early and often. In themeantime you might try and soften me a little--about Lot's wife. "

Next day, in the Ufizzi, it was no surprise to meet the Miss Binghams. We had a guilty consciousness of fellow-citizenship as we recognisedthem, and did our best to look as if two weeks were quite long enough tobe forgotten in, but they seemed charitable and forgiving on thisaccount, said they had looked out for us everywhere, and _had_ we seenthe cuttings in the Vatican?

"The statues, you know, " explained Miss Cora kindly, seeing that we didnot comprehend. "Marvellous--simply marvellous! We enjoyed nothing somuch as the marble department. It takes it out of you though--we wereawfully done afterwards. "

I wondered what Phidias would have said to the "cuttings, " and whetherthe Miss Binghams imagined it a Briticism. It also occurred to me thatone should never mix one's colloquialisms; but that, of course, did notprevent their coming round with us. I believe they did it partly todiffuse their guide among a larger party. He was hanging, as they cameup, upon Miss Cora's reluctant earring, so to speak, and she wasmechanically saying, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" to his representations. "Isuppose, " said she inadvertently, "there is no way of preventing theirgiving one information, " and after that when she hospitably pressed theguide upon us we felt at liberty to be unappreciative. 

I regret to write it of two maiden ladies of good New York family, and aknowledge of the world; but the Miss Binghams capitulated to Dicky Dodwith a promptness and unanimity which would have been very bad for himif nobody had been there to counteract its effects. He walked betweenthem through the vestibules, absorbing a flow of tribute from each sidewith a complacency which his recent trying experiences made all the moreprofound. There was always a something, Miss Nancy declared, about anAmerican who had made his home in England--you could always tell. "Inyour case, Mr. Dod, there is an association of Bond Street. I can'tdescribe it, but it is there. I hope you don't mind my saying so. "

"Oh, no, " said Dicky, "I guess it's my tailor. He lives in Bond Street;"but this was artless and not ironical. Miss Cora went further. "I shouldhave taken Mr. Dod for an Englishman, " she said, at which themiscalculated Mr. Dod looked alarmed. 

"Is that so?" he responded. "Then I'll book my passage back at once. I've been over there too long. You see I've been kind of obliged tostay for reasons connected with the firm, but you ladies can take myword for it that when you get through this sort of ridiculous veneerI've picked up you'll find a regular all-wool-and-a-yard-widecity-of-Chicago American, and I'm bound to ask you not to forget it. This English way of talking is a thing that grows on a fellowunconsciously, don't you know. It wears off when you get home. "

At which Miss Cora and Miss Nancy looked at each other smilingly andrepeated "Don't you know" in derisive echo, and we all felt that ouryoung friend had been too modest about his acquirements. 

"But we mustn't neglect our old masters, " cried Miss Nancy as those ofthe first corridor began to slip past us on the walls, with no desire tointerrupt. "What do you think of this Greek Byzantine style, Mr. Wick?Somehow it doesn't seem to appeal to me, though whether it's theflatness--or what----"

"It _is_ flat, certainly, " agreed the Senator, "but that's a verypopular style of angel for Christmas cards--the more expensive kinds. Here, I suppose, we get the original. "

"That is Tuscan school, sir--madam, " put in the guide, "and notangel--Saint Cecilia. Fourteen century, but we do not know that artisshis name. In the book you will see Cimabue, but it is notCimabue--unknown artiss. "

"Dear me!" cried momma. "St. Cecilia, of course. Don't you remember herexpression--in the Catacombs?"

"She's sweet, always and everywhere, " said Miss Cora, as we moved on, leaving the guide explaining St. Cecilia with his hands behind his back. "And you did go to Capri after all? Now I wonder, Nancy, if they had ourexperience about the oysters?"

"A horrid little man!" cried momma. 

"Who showed you the way to the steamer----"

"And hung around doing things the whole enduring time, " continued myparent, as Mark Antony's daughter turned her head aside, and Drusus, thebrother of Tiberius, frowned upon our passing. 

"He must have been our man!" cried both the Misses Bingham, withexcitement. 

"In the manner of Taddeo Gaddi, " interrupted the guide, surprising us onthe flank with a Holy Family. 

"All right, " said the Senator. "Well, this fellow proposed to bring ourparty oysters on the steamer, and we took him, of course, for thesteward's tout----"

"Exactly what we thought. "

"Since _you_ are going to tell the story, Alexander, I may remind youthat he said they were the best in the world, " remarked momma, withseveral degrees of frost. 

"My dear, the anecdote is yours. But you remember I told him theywouldn't be in it with Blue Points. "

"Now _what_, " exclaimed Miss Nancy, with excitement, "did he ask you forthem?"

"Three francs a head, Nancy, wasn't it, Mrs. Wick? And you gave theorder, and the man disappeared. And you thought he'd gone to get them;at least, we did. Nancy here had perfect confidence in him. She said hehad such dog-like eyes, and we were both perfectly certain they would beserved when the steamer stopped at the Blue Grotto----" Miss Cora pausedto smile. 

"But they weren't, " suggested momma feebly. 

"No, indeed, and hadn't the slightest intention of being. " Miss Nancytook up the tale. "Not until we were taking off our gloves in the hotelverandah, and making up our minds to a good hot lunch, did those oystersappear--exactly half a dozen, and bread and butter extra! And wecouldn't say we hadn't ordered them. And the lunch was only two francsfifty, _complet_. But we felt we ought to content ourselves with theoysters, though, of course, you wouldn't with gentlemen in your party. Now, what course _did_ you pursue, Mrs. Wick?"

"Really, " said momma distantly, "I don't remember. I believe we hadenough to eat. Surely that is little Moses being taken from thebulrushes! How it adds to one's interest to recognise the subject. "

"By B. Luti, " responded Miss Nancy. "I _hope_ he isn't very well known, for I never heard of him before. Now, there's a Domenichino; I can tellit from here. I do love Domenichino, don't you?"

I suppose the Senator knew that momma didn't love Domenichino, and wouldpossibly be at a loss to say why; at all events, he remarked that, talking of Capri, he hoped the Miss Binghams had not felt as badly aboutinconveniencing the donkeys that took them to the top of the cliff asmomma had. "Mrs. Wick, " he informed them, "rode an ass by the name ofMichael Angelo, perfectly accustomed to the climate, and, do you believeit, she held her parasol over that animal's head the whole way. " Atwhich everybody laughed, and momma, invested with an original andamiable weakness, was appeased. 

"Of Michelangelo we have not here much, " said the guide patiently. "Drawings yes, and one holy Family--magnificent! But all in another roomw'ich----"

"Now what Bramley said about the Ufizzi was this, " continued theSenator. "'You'll see on those walls, ' he said, 'the best picture showin the world, both for pedigree and quality of goods displayed. I'd goas far as to say they're all worth looking at, even those that have beenpresented to the institution. But don't you look at them, ' Bramley said, 'as a whole. You keep all your absorbing-power for one apartment, ' hesaid--'the Tribune. You'll want it. ' Bramley gave me to understand thatit wasn't any use he didn't profess to be able to describe his sublimeremotions, but when he sat down in the Tribune he had a sort ofinstinctive idea that he'd got the cream of it--he didn't want to go anyfurther. "

We decided, therefore, in spite of such minor attractions as those ofNiobe and her daughters, at once to achieve the Tribune, feeling, aspoppa said, that it would be most unfortunate to have our admiration allused up before we reached it. The guide led the way, and it was beguiledwith the fascinating experience of the Miss Binghams, who had met QueenMarguerite driving in the Villa Borghese at Rome and had received a bowfrom her Majesty of which nothing would ever be able to deprive them. "Of course we drew up to let her pass, " said Miss Nancy, "and werecareful not to make ourselves in any way conspicuous, merely standing upin the carriage as an ordinary mark of respect. And she looked charming, all in pink and white, with a faded old maid of honour that set her offbeautifully, didn't she, Cora? And such a pretty smile she gave us--theysay she likes the better class of Americans. "

"Oh, we've nothing to regret about Rome, " rejoined Cora. "Even Peter'stoe. I wouldn't have kissed it at the time if the guide hadn't said itwas really Jupiter's. I was sure our dear vicar wouldn't mind my kissingJupiter's toe. But now I'm glad I did it in any case. People always askyou that. "

When we arrived at the little octagonal treasure chamber Mr. Dod andMiss Cora sat down together on one of the less conspicuous sofas, and Isaw that Dicky was already warmed to confidence. Momma at once gave upher soul to the young St. John, having had an engraving of it ever sinceshe was a little girl, and the Senator went solemnly from canvas tocanvas on tip-toe with a mind equally open to Job and the Fornarina. Heassured Miss Nancy and me that Bramley was perfectly right in thinkingeverything of the Tribune, and with reference to the Dancing Fawn, thatit was worth a visit to see Michael Angelo's notion of executing repairsto statuary alone. He gave the place the benefit of his most seriousattention, pulling his beard a good deal before Titian's Venus (whichpoppa always did in connection with this goddess, however, entirelyapart from the merit of the painting) and obviously making allowancesfor her of Medici on account of her great age. At the end of the hour wespent there it had the same effect upon him as upon Colonel Bramley, hedid not wish to go any further; and we parted from the Miss Binghams, who did. As I said good-bye to Miss Cora she gave my hand a subtlysympathetic pressure, whispered tenderly, "He's very nice, " androguishly escaped before I could ask who was, or what difference itmade. Having thought it over, I took the first opportunity of inquiringof Dicky how much of his private affairs he had unburdened to Miss Cora. "Oh, " said he, "hardly anything. She knows a former young lady friend ofmine in Syracuse--we still exchange Christmas cards--and that led me onto say I thought of getting married this winter. Of course I didn'tmention Isabel. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Out of indulgence to Dicky we lingered in Florence three or four dayslonger than was at all convenient, considering, as the Senator said, theamount of ground we had to cover before we could conscientiously recrossthe Channel. But neither poppa nor momma were people to desert afellow-countryman in distress in foreign parts, especially in view ofthis one's pathetic reliance upon our sympathy and support, as a family. We all did our best toward the distraction of what momma called his poormind, though I cannot say that we were very successful. His poor mindseemed wholly taken up with one anticipative idea, and whatever failedto minister to that he hadn't, as poppa sadly said, any use for. Thecloisters of San Marco had no healing for his spirit, and when wedirected his attention to the solitary painting on the wall with whichFra Angelico made a shrine of each of its monastic cubicles he merelyremarked that it was more than you got in most hotels, and turnedjoylessly away. Even the charred stick that helped to martyr Savonarolaleft him cold. He said, indifferently, that it was only the naturalresult of mixing up politics and religion, and that certain Chicagoministers who supported Bryan from the pulpit might well take warning. But his words were apathetic; he did not really care whether thoseChicago ministers went to the stake or not. We stood him before thebronze gates of Ghiberti, and walked him up and down between rows ofworks in _pietra dura_, but without any permanent effect, and when hecontemplated the consecrated residences of Cimabue and Cellini, we couldsee that his interest was perfunctory, and that out of the corner of hiseye he really considered passing fiacres. I read to him aloud from"Romola, " and momma bought him an English and Italian washing book thathe might keep a record of his _camicie_ and his _fazzoletti_--it wouldbe so interesting afterwards, she thought--while the Senator exertedhimself in the way of cheerful conversation, but it was verydiscouraging. Even when we dined at the fashionable open air restaurantin the Cascine, with no less a person than Ouida, in a fluff of greyhair and black lace, at the next table, and the most distinguishedgambler of the Italian aristocracy presenting a narrow back to us fromthe other side, he permitted poppa to compare the quality of the beeffillets unfavourably with those of New York in silence, and drank hisChianti with a lack-lustre eye. 

Towards the end of the week, however, Dicky grew remorseful. "It's allvery well, " he said to me privately, "for Mrs. Wick to say that shecould spend a lifetime in Florence, if the houses only had a few modernconveniences. I daresay she could--and as for your poppa, he's aspatient as if this were a Washington hotel and he had a caucus everynight, but it's as plain as Dante's nose that the Senator's dead sick ofthis city. "

"Dicky, " I said, "that is a reflection of your own state of mind. Poppais willing to take as much more Botticelli and Filippo Lippi as it maybe necessary to give him. "

"Oh, I know he _would_" Dicky admitted, "but he isn't as young as hewas, and I should hate to feel I was imposing on him. Besides, I'mbeginning to conclude that they've skipped Florence. "

So it came to pass that we departed for Venice next day, tarrying onenight at Bologna. We had cut a day off Bologna for Dicky's sake, but theSenator could not be persuaded to sacrifice it altogether on account ofits well known manufacture, into the conditions of which he wished toinquire. The shops, as we drove to the hotel, seemed to expose nothingelse for sale, but poppa said that, in spite of the local consumption, it had certainly fallen off, and, as an official representative of oneof its great rivals in the west, he naturally felt a compunctiousinterest in the state of the industry. The hotel had a little courtyard, with an orange tree in the middle and palms in pots, and we came downthe wide marble stairs, past the statues on the landing, and thepaintings on the walls, to find dinner laid on round tables out there, Iremember. A note of momma's occurs here to the effect that there is agreat deal too much fine art in Italian hotels, with a reference to thefact that the one at Naples had the whole of Pompeii painted on thedining room walls. She considers this practice embarrassing to thepublic mind, which has no way of knowing whether to admire these thingsor not, though personally we boldly decided to scorn them all. This, however, has nothing to do with poppa and the commercial traveller. Weknew he was a commercial traveller by the way he put his toothpick inhis pocket, though poppa said afterwards that he was not exceptionallyendowed for that line of business. He was dining at our table, and byhis gratified manner when we sat down, it was plain that he could speakEnglish and would be very pleased to do so. Poppa, knowing that his timewas short, began at once. 

"You belong to Bologna, sir?" he inquired with his first spoonful ofsoup. For some reason it seems impossible to address a stranger at a_table d'hôte_, before the soup takes the baldness off the situation. 

The gentleman smiled. He had a broad, open, amiable, red face, with ashort black beard and a round head covered with thick hair in curls, beautifully parted. "I do not think I belong, " he said; "my house ofbusiness, it is at Milan, and I am born at Finalmarina. But I come muchto Bologna, yes. "

"Where did you say you were born?" asked the Senator. 

"Finalmarina. You did not go to there, no? I am sorry. "

"It does seem a pity, " replied poppa, "but we've been obliged to pass aconsiderable number of your commercial centres, sir. This city, Ipresume, has large manufacturing interests?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose. You 'ave seen that San Petronio, you cannot help. Very enorm'! More big than San Peter in Rome. But not complete sincefourteenth century. In America you 'ave nothing unfinish, is it not?"

"Far as that goes, " said poppa, "we generally manage to complete ourcontracts within the year; as a rule, I may say within the buildingseason. But I have seen one or two Roman Catholic churches left with thescaffolding hanging round the ceiling for a good deal longer, the altarall fixed up too, and public worship going on just as usual. It seems tobe a way they have. Well, sir, I knew Bologna, by reputation, betterthan any other Italian city, for years. Your local manufacture did thebusiness. As a boy at school, there was nothing I was more fond of formy dinner. Thirty years ago, sir, the interest was created that bringsme here to-day. "

The commercial traveller bowed with much gratification. In the meantimehe had presented a card to momma, which informed her that RicardoBellini represented the firm of Isapetti and Co. , Milan, ArtificialFlowers and Lace. 

"Thirty years, that is a long time to remember Bologna, I cannot saythat thirty years I remember New York. You will not believe!" He wasobviously not more than twenty-five, so this was vastly humorous. "Twenty years, yes, twenty years I will say! And have you seen SanStefano? Seven churches in one! Also the most old. And having fortyJerusalem martyrs. "

"Forty would go a long way in relics, " the Senator observed withdiscouragement, "but my remarks had reference to the Bologna sausage, sir. "

"Sausage--ah! _mortadella_--yes they make here I believe. " Mr. Belliniheld up his knife and fork to enable his plate to be changed and lookeddarkly at the succeeding course. "But every Italian cannot like thatdish. I eat him never. You will not find in this hotel no. " His mannerindicated a personal hostility to the Bologna sausage, but the Senatordid not seem to notice it. 

"You don't say so! Local consumption going off too, eh? Now how do youexplain that?"

Mr. Bellini shrugged his shoulders. "It is much eat by the poor people. They will always have that _mortadella_!"

"That looks, " said the Senator thoughtfully, "like the production of aninferior article. But not necessarily, not necessarily, of course. "

"Bologna it is very _ecclesiastic_. " Mr. Bellini addressed my otherparent, recovering a smile. "We have produced here six popes. It is thefame of Bologna. "

"You seem to think a great deal of producing popes in Italy, " mommareplied coldly. "I should consider it a terrible responsibility. "

"Now do you suppose, " said poppa confidentially, "that the idea oftrichinosis had anything to do with slackening the demand?"

Mr. Bellini threw his head back, and passionately replaced a section ofbiscuit and cheese in the middle of his plate. 

"I know nossing, any more than you! Why you speak me always that Bolognasausage! _Pazienza!_ What is it that sausage to make the agreeableconversation!"

"Sir, " exclaimed the Senator with astonishment and equal heat, "youdon't seem to be aware of it, but at one time the Bologna sausage ruledthe world!"

Mr. Bellini, however, could evidently not trust himself to discuss thematter further. He rose precipitately with an outraged, impersonal bow, and left the table, abandoning his biscuit and cheese, his half finishedbottle of Rudesheimer and the figs that were to follow, with theindifference of a lofty nature. 

"I'm sorry I spoiled his dinner, " said poppa with concern, "but if aBologna man can't talk about Bologna sausages, what can he talk about?"

It made the Senator reticent, though, as to sausages of any kind, withthe other commercial traveller--the hotel was full of them, and we foundit very entertaining after the barren dining rooms of southernItaly--with whom we breakfasted. He spoke to this one exclusively aboutthe architectural and historic features of the city, in a manner whichforbade any approach to gastronomic themes, and while the secondcommercial traveller regarded him with great respect, it must beconfessed that the conversation languished. Dicky might have helped usout, but Dicky was following his usual custom of having rooms in onehotel and covering as many others as possible with his meals, in thehope of an accidental meeting. This was excellent as a distraction forhis mind, but since it occasionally led him into three _déjeuners_ andtwo dinners, rather bad, we feared, for other parts of him. He hadconfided his design to me; he intended, on meeting Isabel's eye, to turnvery pale, abruptly terminate his repast, ask for his hat and stick, andwalk out with conspicuous agitation. As to the course he meant to pursueafterwards he was vague; the great thing was to make an impression uponIsabel. We differed about the nature of the impression. Dicky took itfor granted that she would be profoundly affected, but he made noallowance for the way in which maternal vigilance like that of Mrs. Portheris can discourage the imagination. 

Poppa made two further attempts to inform himself upon the leadingmanufacturing interest of Bologna. He inquired of the _padrone_, who waspleased to hear that Bologna had a leading manufacturing interest, andwhen my parent asked where he could see the process, pointed out severalshops in the Piazza Maggiore. One of these the Senator visited, note-book in hand, and was shown with great alacrity every variety of_mortadella_, from delicacies the size of a finger to mottledconceptions as thick as a small barrel. He found a difficulty inexplaining, however, even with an Italian phrase book, that it was themanufacture only about which he was curious, and that, admirable as theresult might be, he did not wish to buy any of it. When the latter factfinally made itself plain, the proprietor became truculent and gave us, although he spoke no English, so vivid an idea of the inconsistency ofour presence in his premises, that we retired in all the irritation ofthe well-meaning and misunderstood. The Senator, however, who hadabsolute confidence in his phrase book, saw a deeper significance in theremarkable unwillingness of the people of Bologna to expatiate upon thefeature which had given them fame. "The fact is, " said he gloomily, restoring his note-book to his inside pocket as we entered theterra-cotta doorway of St. Catarina, "they're not anxious to let astranger into the know of it. " And this conviction remaining with him, still inspires the Senator with a contemptuous pity for the porcinemethods of a people who refuse to submit them to the light of day andthe observation of the world at large. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

So far, momma said she had every reason to be pleased with the effect onher mind. About the Senator's she would not commit herself, beyondsaying that we had a great deal to be thankful for in that his healthhadn't suffered, in spite of the indigestibility of that eternal Frenchtwist and honey that you were obliged on the Continent to begin the daywith. She hoped, I think, that the Senator had absorbed other thingsbeside the French twist equally unconsciously, with beneficial resultsthat would appear later. He said himself that it was well worthanybody's while to make the trip, if only in order to be bettersatisfied with America for the rest of his life, but why peoplebelonging to the United States and the nineteenth century should want tospend whole summers in the Middle Ages he failed to understand. Both myparents, however, looked forward to Venice with enthusiasm. Mommaexpected it to be the realization of all her dreams, and poppa decidedthat it must, at all events, be unique. It couldn't have any Arno or anyCampagna in the nature of things--that would be a change--and it was notpossible to the human mind, however sophisticated, with a livelongexperience of street cars and herdics, to stroll up and take a seat ina gondola and know exactly what would happen, where the fare-box was andeverything, and whether they took Swiss silver, and if a gentleman in acrowded gondola was expected to give up his seat to a lady and stand. Poppa, as a stranger and unaccustomed to the motion, hoped this wouldnot be the case, but I knew him well enough to predict that if it wereso he would vindicate American gallantry at all risks. 

Thus it was that, from the moment momma put her head out of the carwindow, after Mestre, and exclaimed, "It's getting wateryer andwateryer, " Venice was a source of the completest joy and satisfaction toboth my parents. Dicky and I took it with the more moderate appreciationnatural to our years, but it gave us the greatest pleasure to watch thesimple and unrestrained delight of momma and poppa, and to revert, as itwere, in their experience, to what our own enjoyment might have been hadwe been born when they were. "No express agents, no delivery carts, nobaggage checks, " murmured poppa, as our trunks glided up to the hotelsteps, "but it gets there all the same. " This was the keynote of hisadmiration--everything got there all the same. The surprise of it wasrepeated every time anything got there, and was only dashed once when wesaw brown-paper parcels being delivered by a boy at the back door of thePalazzo Balbi, who had evidently walked all the way. The Senatorcommented upon that boy and his groceries as an inconsistency, andthereafter carefully closed his eyes to the fact that even our ownhotel, which faced upon the Grand Canal, had communications to the rearby which its guests could explore a large part of commercial Venicewithout going in a gondola at all. The canals were the only highways hewould recognise, and he went three times to St. Maria della Salute, which was immediately opposite, for the sake of crossing the street inthe Venetian way. Momma became really hopeful about the stimulus to hisimagination; she told him so. "It appeals to you, Alexander, " she said. "Its poetry comes home to you--you needn't deny it;" and poppa cordiallyadmitted it. "Yes, " he said, "Ruskin, according to the guide-book, doesn't seem as if he could say too much about this city, and Bramleywas just the same. They're both right, and if we were going to be herelong enough I'd be like that myself. There's something about it thatmakes you willing to take a lot of trouble to describe it. There's nouse saying it's the canals, or the reflections in the water, or thebridges, or the pigeons, or the gargoyles, or the gondolas----"

"Or Salviati, or Jesurum, " said momma, in lighter vein. 

"Your memory, Augusta, for the names of old masters is perfectlywonderful, " continued poppa placidly. "Or Salviati, or Jesurum, or what. But there's a kind of local spell about this place----"

"There are various kinds of local smells, " interrupted Dicky, whom Mrs. Portheris still evaded, but this levity received no encouragement fromthe Senator. He said instead that he hadn't noticed them himself. Forhis part he had come to Venice to use his eyes, not his nose; and Dicky, thus discouraged, faded visibly upon his stem. 

I could see that poppa was still strongly under the influence of theVenetian sentiment when he invited me to go out in a gondola with himafter dinner, and pointedly neglected to suggest that either momma orDicky should come too. I had a presentiment of his intention. If I haveseemed, thus far, to omit all reference to Mr. Page in Boston, since weleft Paris, it is, first, because I believe it is not considerednecessary in a book of travels to account for every half hour, andsecond, because I privately believed him to be in correspondence withthe Senator the whole time, and hesitated to expose his duplicity. I hadgiven poppa opportunities for confessing this clandestine business, butin his paternal wisdom he had not taken them. I was not prepared, therefore, to be very responsive when, from a mere desire to indulge hissense of the fitness of things, poppa endeavoured to probe my sentimentswith regard to Mr. Page by moonlight on the Grand Canal. To begin with, I wasn't sure of them--so much depended upon what Arthur had been doing;and besides, I felt that the perfect confidence which should existbetween father and daughter had already been a good deal damaged at thepaternal end. So when poppa said that it must seem to me like a dream, so much had happened since the day momma and I left Chicago attwenty-four hours' notice, six weeks ago, I said no, for my part I hadfelt pretty wide awake all the time; a person had to be, I ventured toadd, with no more time to waste upon Southern Europe than we had. 

"You mean you've been sleeping pretty badly, " said the Senatorsympathetically. 

"Where was it, " I inquired, "you would give us pounded crabs and creamfor supper after we'd been to hear masses for the repose of somebody'ssoul? That was a bad night, but I don't think I've had any others. Onthe contrary. "

"Oh, well, " said poppa, "it's a good thing it isn't undermining yourconstitution, " but he looked as if it were rather a disappointment. 

"The American constitution can stand a lot of transportation, " Iremarked. "Railways live on that fact. I've heard you say so yourself, Senator. "

Then there was an interval during which the oars of the gondoliersdipped musically, and the moon made a golden pathway to the marble stepsof the Palazzo Contarina. Then poppa said, "I refer to the object of ourtour. "

"The object of our tour wasn't to undermine my constitution, " I replied. "It was to write a book--don't you remember. But it's some time sinceyou made any suggestions. If you don't look out, the author of thatvolume will practically be momma. "

The Senator allowed himself to be diverted. "I think, " he said, "you'dbetter leave the chapter on Venice to me; you can't just talk anyhowabout this city. I'll write it one of these nights before I go to bed. "

"But the main reason, " he continued, "that sent us to glide this minuteover the canal system of the Bride of the Adriatic was the necessity ofbracing you up after what you'd been through. "

"Well, " I said, "it's been very successful. I'm all braced up. I'm gladwe have had such a good excuse for coming. " A fib is sometimes necessaryto one's self-respect. 

"_Premé!_" cried the gondolier, and we shaved past the gondola of asolitary gentleman just leaving the steps of the Hotel Britannia. 

"That was a shave!" poppa exclaimed, and added somewhat inconsequently, "You might just as well not speak so loud. "

"I've always liked Arty, " he continued, as we glided on. 

"So have I, " I returned cordially. 

"He's in many ways a lovely fellow, " said poppa. 

"I guess he is, " said I. 

"I don't believe, " ventured my parent, "that his matrimonial ideas havecooled down any. "

"I hope he may marry well, " I said. "Has he decided on Frankie Turner?"

"He has come to no decision that you don't know about. Of course, I haveno desire to interfere where it isn't any of my business, but if youwish to gratify your poppa, daughter, you will obey him in this matter, and permit Arthur once more to--to come round evenings as he used to. Heis a young man of moderate income, but a very level head, and it is thewish of my heart to see you reconciled. "

"Sorry I can't oblige you, poppa, " I said. I certainly was not going tohave any reconciliation effected by poppa. 

"You'd better just consider it, daughter. I don't want to interfere--butyou know my desire, my command. "

"Senator, " said I, "you don't seem to realise that it takes more than agondola to make a paternal Doge. I've got to ask you to remember that Iwas born in Chicago. And it's my bed time. Gondolier! _Albergo! Andatepresto!_"

"He seems to understand you, " said poppa meekly. 

So we dropped Arthur--dropped him, so to speak, into the Grand Canal, and I really felt callous at the time as to whether he should ever comeup again. 

But the Senator's joy in Venice found other means of expressing itself. One was an active and disinterested appeal to the gondoliers to be alittle less modern in their costume. He approached this subject throughthe guide with every gondolier in turn, and the smiling impassivenesswith which his suggestions were received still causes him wonder anddisgust. "I presume, " he remonstrated, "you think you earn your livingbecause tourists have got to get from the Accademia to St. Mark's, andfrom St. Mark's to the Bridge of Sighs, but that's only a quarter of thereason. The other three-quarters is because they like to be rowed therein gondolas by the gondoliers they've read about, and the gondoliersthey've read about wore proper gondoliering clothes--they didn't looklike East River loafers. "

"They are poor men, these _gondolieri_, " remarked the guide. "Theycannot afford. "

"I am not an infant, my friend. I'm a business man from Chicago. It's abusiness proposition. Put your gondoliers into the styles they wore whenAndrea Dandolo went looting Constantinople, and you'll double yourtourist traffic in five years. Twice as many people wanting gondolas, wanting guides, wanting hotel accommodation, buying your coloured glassand lace flounces--why, Great Scott! it would pay the city to do thething at the public expense. Then you could pass a by-law forbiddinggondoliering to be done in any style later than the fifteenth century. Pay you over and over again. "

Poppa was in earnest, he wanted it done. He was only dissuaded fromtaking more active measures to make his idea public by the fact that hecouldn't stay to put it through. He was told, of course, how the plainblack gondola came to be enforced through the extravagance of the nobleswho ruined themselves to have splendid ones, and how the Venetiansscrupled to depart from a historic mandate, but he considered this afeeble argument, probably perpetuated by somebody who enjoyed a monopolyin supplying Venice with black paint. "Circumstances alter cases, " hedeclared. "If that old Doge knew that the P. And O. Was going to rundirect between Venice and Bombay every fortnight this year, he'd tellyou to turn out your gondolas silver-gilt!"

Nevertheless, as I say, the Senator's views were coldly received, withone exception. A highly picturesque and intelligent gondolier, whom theguide sought to convert to a sense of the anachronism of his clothes inconnection with his calling, promised that if we would give him adefinite engagement for next day, he would appear suitably clad. Thefollowing morning he awaited us with honest pride in his Sunday apparel, which included violently checked trousers, a hard felt hat, and a largepink tie. The Senator paid him hurriedly and handsomely and dismissedhim with as little injury to his feelings as was possible under thecircumstances. "Tell him, " said poppa to the guide, "to go home and takeoff those pants. And tell him, do you understand, to _rush_!"

That same day, in the afternoon, I remember, when we were disembarkingfor an ice at Florian's, momma directed our attention to two gentlemenin an approaching gondola. "There's something about that man, " she saidimpressively, "I mean the one in the duster, that belongs to the reignof Louis Philippe. "

"There is, " I responded; "we saw him last in the Petit Trianon. It'sMr. Pabbley and Mr. Hinkson. Two more Transatlantic fellow-travellers. Senator, when we meet them shall we greet them?"

The Senator had a moment of self-expostulation. 

"Well, no, " he said, "I guess not. I don't suppose we need feel obligedto keep up the acquaintance of _every_ American we come across inEurope. It would take us all our time. But I'd like to ask him what usehe finds for a duster in Venice. "

"How I wish the Misses Bingham could hear you, " I thought, but oneshould never annoy one's parents unnecessarily, so I kept my reflectionsto myself. 

CHAPTER XX. 

That last day in Venice we went, I remember, to the Lido. Nothinghappened, but I don't like leaving it out, because it was the last day, and the next best thing to lingering in Venice is lingering on it. Wewent in a steamboat, under protest from poppa, who said it might as wellbe Coney Island until we got there, when he admitted points ofdifference, and agreed that if people had to come all the way out ingondolas, certain existing enterprises might as well go out of business. The steamer was full of Venetians, and we saw that they were charming, though momma wishes it to be understood that the modern Portia wears herbodice cut rather too low in the neck and gazes much too softly at themodern Bassanio. Poppa and I thought it mere amiability that scorned toconceal itself, but momma referred to it otherwise, admitting, however, that she found it fascinating to watch. 

We seemed to disembark at a restaurant permanent among flowing waters, so prominent was this feature of the island, but it had only a roof, andpresently we noticed a little grass and some bushes as well. The verdurehad quite a novel look, and we decided to discourage the casual personwho wished to sell us strange and uncertified shell fish from a basketfor immediate consumption, and follow it up. 

Dicky was of opinion that we might arrive at the vegetable gardens ofVenice, but in this we were disappointed. We came instead to astreet-car, and half a mile of arbour, and all the Venetians pleasurablypreparing to take carriage exercise. The horses seemed to like the ideaof giving it to them, they were quite light-hearted, one of themactually pawed. They were the only horses in Venice, they felt theirdignity and their responsibility in a way foreign to animals in thepublic service, anywhere else in the world. Personally we would havepreferred to walk to the other end of the arbour, but it would haveseemed a slight, and, as the Senator said, we weren't in Venice to hurtanybody's feelings that belonged there. It would have been extravaganttoo, since the steamboat ticket included the drive at the end. So westruggled anxiously for good places, and proceeded to the other sidewith much circumstance, enjoying ourselves as hard as possible. Dickysaid he never had such a good time; but that was because he hadexhausted Venice and his patience, and was going on to Verona next day. 

The arbour and the grass and the street-car track ended sharply and alltogether at a raised wooden walk that led across the sand to a pavilionhanging over the Adriatic, and here we sat and watched other Venetiansdisporting themselves in the water below. They were glorious creatures, and they disported themselves nobly, keeping so well in view of thepavilion and such a steady eye upon the spectators that poppa had animpulsive desire to feed them with macaroons. He decided not to; younever could tell, he said, what might be considered a liberty byforeigners; but he had a hard struggle with the temptation, the aquaticaccomplishments we saw were so deserving of reward. I had the misfortuneto lose a little pink rose overboard, as it were, and Dicky lookedseriously annoyed when an amphibious young Venetian caught it betweenhis lips. I don't know why; he was one of the most attractive on view, but I have often noticed Turkish tendencies in Dicky where hiscountry-women are concerned. We came away almost immediately after, sothat rose will bloom in my memory, until I forget about it, amongromances that might have been. 

Strolling back, we bought a Venetian secret for a sou or two, abeautiful little secret, I wonder who first found it out. A picturesqueand fishy smelling person in a soft felt hat sold it to us--a pair oftiny dainty dried sea-horses, "_mère_" and "_père_" he called them. Andthere, all in the curving poise of their little heads and the twist oftheir little tails, was revealed half the art of Venice, and we saw howthe first glass worker came to be told to make a sea green dragonclimbing over an amber yellow bowl, and where the gondola borrowed itsgrace. They moved us to unanimous enthusiasm, and we utterly refused tolet Dicky put one in his button-hole. 

It is looking back upon Venice, too, that I see the paternal figure ofthe Senator nourishing the people with octopuses. This may seemimprobable, but it is strictly true. They were small octopuses, notnearly large enough to kill anybody while they were alive, though boiledand pickled they looked very deadly. Pink in colour, they stood in abarrel near the entrance, I remember, of Jesurum's, and attracted theSenator's inquiring eye. When the guide said they were for humanconsumption poppa looked at him suspiciously and offered him one. He ateit with a promptness and artistic despatch that fascinated us all, gathering it up by its limp long legs and taking bites out of it, as ifit were an apple. A one-eyed man who hooked pausing gondolas up to theslippery steps offered to show how it should be done, and otherperformers, all skilled, seemed to rise from the stones of the pavement. Poppa invited them all, by pantomime, to walk up and have an octopus, and when the crowd began to gather from the side alleys, and theenthusiasm grew too promiscuous, he bought the barrel outright andwatched the carnival from the middle of the canal. He often speaks ofhis enjoyment of the Venetian octopus, eaten in cold blood, withoutpepper, salt, or vinegar; and the effect, when I am not there, isawe-stricken. 

Next morning we took a gondola for the station, and slipped through thegold and opal silence of the dawn on the canals away from Venice. Noone was up but the sun, who did as he liked with the façades and thebridges in the water, and made strange lovelinesses in narrow darklingplaces, and showed us things in the _calli_ that we did not know were inthe world. The Senator was really depressing until he graduallylightened his spirits by working out a scheme for a direct line ofsteamships between Venice and New York, to be based on an agreement withthe Venetian municipality as to garments of legitimate gaiety for thegondoliers, the re-nomination of an annual Doge, who should be compelledto wear his robes whenever he went out of doors, and the yearlyresurrection of the ancient ceremony of marrying Venice to the Adriatic, during the months of July and August, when the tide of tourist trafficsets across the Atlantic. "We should get every school ma'am in theUnion, to begin with, " said poppa confidently, and by the time wereached Verona he had floated the company, launched the first ship, arrived in Venice with full orchestral accompaniment, and dined theimitation Doge--if he couldn't get Umberto and Crispi--upon clam chowderand canvas-backs to the solemn strains of Hail Columbia played up anddown the Grand Canal. "If it _could_ be worked, " said poppa as wedescended upon the platform, "I'd like to have the Pope telephone us ablessing on the banquet. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

It was the middle of the afternoon, and momma, having spent the morningamong the tombs of the Scaligeri, was lying down. The Scaligeri somehowhad got on her nerves; there were so many of them, and the panoply oftheir individual bones was so imposing. 

"Daughter, " she had said to me on the way back to the hotel, "if youpoint out another thing to me I'll slap you. " In that frame of mind itwas always best to let momma lie down. The Senator had letters to write;I think he wanted to communicate his Venetian steamship idea to a man inMinneapolis. Dicky had already been round to the Hotel di Londres--wewere at the Colomba--and had found nothing, so when he asked me to comeout for a walk I prepared to be steeped in despondency. An unsuccessfullove affair is a severe test of friendship; but I went. 

It was as I expected. Having secured a spectator to wreak his gloomupon, Mr. Dod proceeded to make the most of the opportunity. He put hishat on recklessly, and thrust his hands into his pa--his trouserpockets. We were in a strange town, but he fastened his eyes moodilyupon the pavement, as if nothing else were worth considering. As westrolled into the Piazza Bra, I saw him gradually and furtively turn uphis coat-collar, at which I felt obliged to protest. 

"Look here, Dicky, " I said, "unrequited affection is, doubtless, verytrying, but you're too much of an advertisement. The Veronese arebeginning to stare at you; their sorcerers will presently follow youabout with their patent philters. Reform your personal appearance, orhere, at the foot of this statue of Victor Emmanuel, I leave you to yourfate. "

Dicky reformed it, but with an air of patience under persecution which Ifound hard to bear. "I don't know your authority for calling itunrequited, " he said, with dignity. 

"All right--undelivered, " I replied. "That is a noble statue--you can'tcontradict the guide-book. By Borghi. "

"Victor Emmanuel, is it? Then it isn't Garibaldi. You don't have totravel much in Italy to know it's got to be either one or the other. What they _like_ is to have both, " said Mr. Dod, with unnecessarybitterness. "I'd enjoy something fresh in statues myself. " Then, with animperfectly-concealed alertness, "There seems to be something going onover there, " he added. 

We could see nothing but an arched door in a high, curving wall, and astream of people trickling in. "Probably only one of their eternal Latinchurch services, " continued Dicky. "It's about the only form of publicentertainment you can depend on in this country. But we might as wellhave a look in. " He went on to say, as we crossed the dusty road, thatmy unsympathetic attitude was enough to drive anybody to the Church ofRome, even in the middle of the afternoon. 

But we perceived at once that it was not the Church of Rome, or anyother church. There was more than one arched entrance, and a man ineach, to whom people paid a lira apiece for admission, and when wefollowed them in we found our feet still upon the ground, and ourselvesamong a forest of solid buttresses and props. The number XV. Was cutdeep over the door we came in by, and the props had the air of centuriesof patience. A wave of sound seemed to sweep round in a circle insideand spend itself about us, of faint multitudinous clappings. Convictiondescended upon us suddenly, and as we stumbled after the others weshared one classic moment of anticipation, hurrying and curious in 1895as the Romans hurried and were curious in 110, a little late for theshow in the Arena. They were all there before us, they had taken thebest places, and sat, as we emerged in our astonishment, tier above tierto the row where the wall stopped and the sky began, intent, enthusiastic. The wall threw a new moon of shadow on the west, and therethe sun struck down sharply and made splendid the dyes in the women'sclothes, and turned the Italian soldiers' buttons into flaming jewels. And again, as we stared, the applause went round and up, from the yellowsand below to the blue sky above, and when we looked bewildered downinto the Arena for the victorious gladiator, and saw a tumbling clownwith a painted face instead, the illusion was only half destroyed. Weclimbed and struggled for better places, treading, I fear, in ourabsorption on a great many Veronese toes. Dicky said when we got themthat you had to remember that the seats were Roman in order toappreciate them, they were such very cold stone, and they sloped fromback to front, for the purpose, as we found out afterward from theguide-book, of letting off the rain water. We were glad to understandit, but Dicky declared that no explanation would induce him to take aseason ticket for the Arena, it was too destitute of modernimprovements. It was something, though, to sit there watching, with theranged multitude, a show in a Roman Amphitheatre--one could imaginethings, lictors and ædiles, senators and centurions. It only requiredthe substitution of togas and girdled robes for trousers and petticoats, and a purple awning for the emperor, and a brass-plated body-guard withlong spears and hairy arms and legs, and a few details like that. If onehalf closed one's eyes it was hardly necessary to imagine. I was halfclosing my eyes, and wondering whether they had Vestal Virgins at thisparticular amphitheatre, and trying to remember whether they would turntheir thumbs up or down when they wished the clown to be destroyed, whenDicky grew suddenly pale and sprang to his feet. 

"I was afraid it might give one a chill, " I said, "but it is verypicturesque. I suppose the ancient Romans brought cushions. "

Mr. Dod did not appear to hear me. 

"In the third row below, " he exclaimed, blushing joyfully, "the sixthfrom this end--do you see? Yellow bun under a floral hat--Isabel!"

"A yellow bun under a floral hat, " I repeated, "that would be Isabel, ifyou add a good complexion and a look of deportment. Yes, now I see her. Mrs. Portheris on one side, Mr. Mafferton on the other. What do you wantto do?"

"Assassinate Mafferton, " said Dicky. "Does it look to you as if he hadbeen getting there at all. "

"So far as one can see from behind, I should say he has made someprogress, but I don't think, Dicky, that he has arrived. He isconstitutionally slow, " I added, "about arriving. "

At that moment the party rose. Without a word we, too, got on our feetand automatically followed, Dicky treading the reserved seats of thecourt of Berengarius as if they had been the back rows of a Bowerytheatre. The classics were wholly obscured for him by a floral hat and ayellow bun. I, too, abandoned my speculations cheerfully, for I expectedMrs. Portheris, confronted with Dicky, to be more entertaining than anygladiator. 

We came up with them at the exit, and that august lady, as weapproached, to our astonishment, greeted us with effusion. 

[Illustration: "Do you see?"]

"We thought, " she declared, "that we had lost you altogether. This isquite delightful. Now we _must_ reunite!" Dicky was certainly included. It was extraordinary. "And your dear father and mother, " went on Mrs. Portheris, "I am longing to hear their experiences since we parted. Where are you? The Colomba? Why what a coincidence! We are there, too!How small the world is!"

"Then you have only just arrived, " said Mr. Dod to Miss Portheris, whohad turned away her head, and was regarding the distant mountains. 

"Yes. "

"By the 11. 30 p. M. ?"

"No. By the 2. 30 p. M. "

"Had you a pleasant journey up from Naples?"

"It was rather dusty. "

I saw that something quite awful was going on and conversed volubly withMrs. Portheris and Mr. Mafferton to give Dicky a chance, but in a momentI, too, felt a refrigerating influence proceeding from the floral hatand the bun for which I could not account. 

"Where have you been?" inquired Dicky, "if I may ask. "

"At Vallombrosa. "

There was also a parasol and it twisted indifferently. 

"Ah--among the leaves! And were they as thick as William says they are?"

"I don't understand you. " And, indeed, this levity assortedincomprehensively with the black despair that sat on Dicky'scountenance. It was really very painful in spite of Mrs. Portheris'sunusual humanity and Mr. Mafferton's obvious though embarrassed joy, andas Mrs. Portheris's cab drove up at the moment I made a tentativeattempt to bring the interview to a close. "Mr. Dod and I are walking, "I said. 

"Ah, these little strolls!" exclaimed Mrs. Portheris, with benignanthumour. "I suppose we must condone them now!" and she waved her hand, rolling away, as if she gave us a British matron's blessing. 

"Oh, don't!" I cried. "Don't condone them--you mustn't!" But my wordsfell short in a cloud of dust, and even Dicky, wrapped in his tragedy, failed to receive an impression from them. 

"How, " he demanded passionately, "do you account for it?"

"Account for what?" I shuffled. 

"The size of her head--the frost--the whole bally conversation!"propounded Dicky, with tears in his eyes. 

I have really a great deal of feeling, and I did not rebuke these terms. Besides, I could see only one way out of it, and I was occupied with thebest terms in which to present it to Dicky. So I said I didn't know, andreflected. 

"She isn't the same girl!" he groaned. 

"Men are always talking in the funny columns of the newspapers, " Iremarked absently, "about how much better they can throw a stone andsharpen a pencil than we can. "

Mr. Dod looked injured. "Oh, well, " he said, "if you prefer to talkabout something else----"

"But they can't see into a sentimental situation any further than into aboard fence, " I continued serenely. "My dear Dick, Isabel thinks you'reengaged. So does her mamma. So does Mr. Mafferton. "

"Who to?" exclaimed Mr. Dod, in ungrammatical amazement. 

"I looked at him reproachfully. Don't be such an owl!" I said. 

Light streamed in upon Dicky's mind. "To you!" he exclaimed. "GreatScott!"

"Preposterous, isn't it?" I said. 

"I should ejaculate! Well, no, I mean--I shouldn't ejaculate, but--oh, you know what I mean----"

"I do, " I said. "Don't apologise. "

"What in my aunt's wardrobe do they think that for?"

"You left their party and joined ours rather abruptly at Pompeii, " Isaid. 

"Had to!"

"Isabel didn't know you had to. If she tried to find out, I fancy shewas told little girls shouldn't ask questions. It was Lot's wife whoreally came between you, but Isabel wouldn't have been jealous of Lot'swife. "

"I suppose not, " said Dicky doubtfully. 

"Do you remember meeting the Misses Bingham in the Ufizzi? and tellingthem you were going to be----"

"That's so. "

"You didn't give them enough details. And they told me they were goingto Vallombrosa. And when Miss Cora said good-bye to me she told me youwere a dear or something. "

"Why didn't you say I wasn't?"

"Dicky, if you are going to assume that it was my fault----"

"Only one decent hotel--hardly anybody in it--foregathered with old ladyPortheris--told every mortal thing they knew! Oh, " groaned Dicky. "Whywas an old maid ever born!"

"She never was, " I couldn't help saying, but I might as well not havesaid it. Dicky was rapidly formulating his plan of action. 

"I'll tell her straight out, after dinner, " he concluded, "and hermother, too, if I get a chance. "

"Do you know what will happen?" I asked. 

"You never know what will happen, " replied Dicky, blushing. 

"Mrs. And Miss Portheris and Mr. Mafferton will leave the Hotel Colombafor parts unknown, by the earliest train to-morrow morning. "

"But Mrs. Portheris declares that we're to be a happy family for therest of the trip. "

"Under the impression that you are disposed of, an impression that_might_ be allowed to----"

"My heart, " said Dicky impulsively, "may be otherwise engaged, but myalleged mind is yours for ever. Mamie, you have a great head. "

"Thanks, " I said. "I would certainly tell the truth to Isabel, as asecret, but----"

"Mamie, we cut our teeth on the same----"

"Horrid of you to refer to it. "

"It's such a tremendous favour!"

"It is. "

"But since you're in it, you know, already--and it's so verytemporary--and I'll be as good as gold----"

"You'd better!" I exclaimed. And so it was settled that the fiction ofDicky's and my engagement should be permitted to continue to any extentthat seemed necessary until Mr. Dod should be able to persuade MissPortheris to fly with him across the Channel and be married at a Doverregistry office. We arranged everything with great precision, and, ifnecessary, I was to fly too, to make it a little more proper. We wereboth somewhat doubtful about the necessity of a bridesmaid in a registryoffice, but we agreed that such a thing would go a long way towardspersuading Isabel to enter it. 

When we arrived at the hotel we found Mrs. Portheris and Mr. Maffertonaffectionately having tea with my parents. Isabel had gone to bed with aheadache, but Dicky, notwithstanding, displayed the most unfeelingspirits. He drove us all finally to see the tomb of Juliet in the VicoloFranceschini, and it was before that uninspiring stone trough full ofvisiting cards, behind a bowling green of suburban patronage, that Iheard him, on general grounds of expediency, make contrite advances toMrs. Portheris. 

"I think I ought to tell you, " he said, "that my views have undergone achange since I saw you. "

Mrs. Portheris fixed her _pince nez_ upon him in suspicious inquiry. 

"I can even swallow the whale now, " he faltered, "like Jonah. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

After two days of the most humid civility Mrs. Portheris had broughtmomma round. It was not an easy process, momma had such a way of fanningherself and regarding distant objects; and Dicky and I observed itsdifficulties with great satisfaction, for a family matter would be thelast thing anybody would venture to discuss with momma under suchcircumstances, and we very much preferred that Mrs. Portheris'soverflowing congratulations should be chilled off as long as possible. Dicky was for taking my parents into our confidence as a measure ofpreparation, but with poppa's commands upon me with regard to Arthur, Ifelt a delicacy as to the subject of engagements generally. Besides, onenever can tell whether one's poppa and momma would back one up in athing like that. 

I never could quite understand Mrs. Portheris's increasingly goodopinion of us at this point. The Senator declared that it was becausesome American shares of hers had gone up in the market, but that struckmomma and me as somewhat too general in its application. I preferred toattribute it to the Senator's Tariff Bill. Mr. Mafferton brought us the_Times_ one evening in Verona, and pointed out with solemncongratulation that the name of J. P. Wick was mentioned four times inthe course of its leading article. That journal even said in effectthat, if it were not for the faithfully sustained anti-humorouscharacter which had established it for so many generations in theapprobation of the British public, it would go so far as to call thecontemplated measure "Wicked legislation. " Mr. Mafferton could notunderstand why poppa had no desire to cut out the article. He said therewas something so interesting about seeing one's name in print--he alwaysdid it. I was very curious to see instances of Mr. Mafferton's name inprint, and finally induced him to show them to me. They were mainlyadvertisements for lost dogs--"Apply to the Hon. Charles Mafferton, " andthe reward was very considerable. 

But this has nothing to do with the way the plot thickened on the Lakeof Como. I was watching Bellagio slip past among the trees on the leftshore and wondering whether we could hear the nightingales if it werenot for the steamer's engines--which was particularly unlikely as it wasthe middle of the afternoon--and thinking about the trifles that wouldsometimes divide lives plainly intended to mingle. Mere enunciation, forexample, was a thing one could so soon become reaccustomed to; alreadymomma had ceased to congratulate me on my broad a's, and I could nothelp the inference that my conversation was again unobtrusivelyChicagoan. It was frustrating, too, that I had no way of finding outhow much poppa knew, and extremely irritating to think that he knewanything. He was sitting near me as I mused, immersed in the Americanmail, while momma and his Aunt Caroline insensibly glided towardsintimacy again on two wicker chairs close by. Mr. Mafferton was countingthe luggage somewhere; he was never happy on a steamer until he had donethat; and Isabel was being fervently apologised to by Dicky on the otherside of the deck. I hoped she was taking it in the proper spirit. I hadthe terms all ready in which _I_ should accept an apology, if it wereever offered to me. 

[Illustration: Fervent apologies. ]

"Now, I must not put off any longer telling you how delighted I am atyour dear Mamie's re-engagement. "

The statement reached us all, though it was intended for momma only. Even Mrs. Portheris's more amiable accents had a quality whichpenetrated far, with a suggestion of whiskers. I looked again languidlyat Bellagio, but not until I had observed a rapid glance between myparents, recommending each other not to be taken by surprise. 

"Has she confided in you?" inquired momma. 

"No--no. I heard it in a roundabout way. You must be very pleased, dearAugusta. Such an advantage that they have known each other all theirlives!"

Poppa looked guardedly round at me, but by this time I was asleep in mycamp chair, the air was so balmily cool after our hot rattle to Como. 

"How _did_ you hear?" he demanded, coming straight to the point, whilemomma struggled after tentative uncertainties. 

"Oh, a little bird, a little bird--who had it from them both! And muchbetter, I said when I heard it, that she should marry one of her owncountry-people. American girls nowadays will so often be content withnothing less than an Englishman!"

"So far as that goes, " said the Senator crisply, "we never buy anythingwe haven't a use for, simply because it's cheap. But I don't mindtelling you that my daughter's re-engagement, on the old American lines, is a thing I've been wanting to happen for some time. "

"And there are some really excellent points about Mr. Dod. We mustremember that he is still very young. He has plenty of time to repairhis fortunes. Of one thing we may be sure, " continued Mrs. Portherismagnanimously, "he will make her a very _kind_ husband. "

At this I opened my eyes inadvertently--nobody could help it--and sawthe barometrical change in poppa's countenance. It went down twentydegrees with a run, and wore all the disgust of an hon. Gentleman whohas jumped to conclusions and found nothing to stand on. 

"Oh, you're away off there, Aunt Caroline, " he said with some annoyance. "Better sell your little bird and buy a telephone. Richard Dod is nomore engaged to our daughter than the man in the moon. "

"Well, I should say not!" exclaimed momma. 

"I have it on the _best_ authority, " insisted Mrs. Portheris blandly. "You American parents are so seldom consulted in these matters. Perhapsthe young people have not told you. "

This was a nasty one for both the family and the Republic, and I heardthe Senator's rejoinder with satisfaction. 

"We don't consider, in the United States, that we're the natural bulliesof our children because we happen to be a little older than they are, "he said, "but for all that we're not in the habit of hearing much newsabout them from outsiders. I'll have to get you to promise not to gospreading such nonsense around, Aunt Caroline. "

"Oh, of course, if you say so, but I should be better satisfied if shedenied it herself, " said Mrs. Portheris with suavity. "My informationwas so very exact. "

I had slumbered again, but it did not avail me. I heard the Americanmail dispersing itself about the deck in all directions as the Senatorrose, strode towards my chair, and shook me much more vigorously thanthere was any necessity for. 

"Here's Aunt Caroline, " he said, "wanting us to believe that you andDicky Dod are engaged--you two that have quarrelled as naturally asbrother and sister ever since you were born. I guess you can tell herwhether it's very likely!"

I yawned, to gain time, but the widest yawn will not cover more than twoseconds. 

"What an extraordinary question!" I said. It sounds weak, but that wasthe way one felt. 

"Don't prevaricate, Mamie, love, " said Mrs. Portheris sternly. 

"I'm not--I don't. But n-nothing of the kind is announced, is it?" I wasgrowing nervous under the Senatorial eye. 

"Nothing of the kind _exists_, " said poppa, the Doge all over, excepthis umbrella. "Does it?"

"Why no, " I said. "Dicky and I aren't engaged. But we have anunderstanding. "

I was extremely sorry. Mrs. Portheris was so triumphant, and poppaallowed his irritation to get so much the better of him. 

"Oh, " he said, "you've got an understanding! Well, you've been toointelligent, darned if you haven't!" The Senator pulled his beard in hismost uncompromising manner. "Now you can understand something more. I'mnot going to have it. You haven't got my consent and you're not going toget it. "

"But, my dear nephew, the match is so suitable in every respect! Surelyyou would not stand in the way of a daughter's happiness when bothcharacter and position--position in Chicago, of course, but still--areassured!"

Poppa paused, uncertain for an instant whether to turn his wrath uponhis aunt, and that, of course, was my opportunity to plead with my angryparent. But the knowledge that the hopes which poppa was reducing todust and ashes were fervently fixed on a floral hat and a yellow bunover which he had no control, on the other side of the ship, overcameme, and I looked at Bellagio to hide my emotions instead, in a way whichthey might interpret as obstinate, if they liked. 

"Aunt Caroline, " said the Senator firmly, "I'll thank you to keep yourspoon out of the preserves. My daughter knows where I have given herhand, and that's the direction she's going with her feet. Mary, I may aswell inform you that the details of your wedding are being arranged inChicago this minute. It will take place within three weeks of ourarrival, and it won't be any slump. But Richard Dod might as well betold right now that he won't be in it, unless in the capacity of usher. As I don't contemplate breaking up this party and making thingsdisagreeable all round, you'll have to tell him yourself. We sail fromLiverpool"--poppa looked at his watch--"precisely one week and fourhours from now, and if Mr. Dod has not agreed to the conditions Imention by that time we will leave him upon the shore. That's all I haveto say, and between now and then I don't expect you or anybody else tohave the nerve to mention the matter to me again. "

After that it was impossible to wink at poppa, or in any way to give himthe assurance that my regard for him was unimpaired. There are thingsthat can't be passed over with a smile in one's poppa without doing himharm, and this was one of them. It was a regular manifesto, and I feltexactly like Lord Salisbury. I couldn't take him seriously, and yet Ihad to tell him to come on, if he wanted to, and devote his spare timeto learning the language of diplomacy. So I merely bowed with whatmagnificence I could command and filed it, so to speak; and walked tothe other side of the deck, leaving poppa to his conscience and mommaand his Aunt Caroline. I left him with confidence, not knowing whichwould give him the worst time. Mrs. Portheris began it, before I was outof earshot. "For an American parent, " she said blandly, "it strikes me, Joshua, that you are a little severe. "

I found Mr. Mafferton interfering, as I expected, with Dicky and Isabelin their appreciation of the west shore. He was pointing out the VillaCarlotta at Caddenabbia, and explaining the beauties of the sculpturesthere and dwelling on the tone of blue in the immediate Alps andreminding them that the elder Pliny once picked wild flowers on thesebanks, and generally making himself the intelligent nuisance that natureintended him to be. In spite of it Isabel was radiant. She said a numberof things with the greatest ease; one saw that language, after all, wasnot difficult to her, she only wanted practice and an untroubled mind. Ilooked at Dicky and saw that a weight had been removed from his, and itwas impossible to avoid the conclusion that peace and satisfaction inthis life would date for these two, if all went well for the next fewdays, from the Lake of Como. But all could not be relied upon to go wellso long as Mr. Mafferton hovered, quoting Claudian on the mulberry tree, upon the brink of a proposal, so I took him away to translate hisquotation for me in the stern, which naturally suggested the past andits emotions. We could now refer quite sympathetically to the altogetherirretrievable and gone by, and Mr. Mafferton was able to mention LadyTorquilan without any trace of his air that she was a person, poor dear, that brought embarrassment with her. Indeed, I sometimes thought hedragged her in. I asked him, in appropriate phrases, of course, whetherhe had decided to accept Mrs. Portheris's daughter, and he fixedmournful eyes upon me and said he thought he had, almost. The news of myengagement to Mr. Dod had apparently done much to bring him to aconclusion; he said it pointed so definitely to the unlikelihood of hisever being able to find a more stimulating companion than MissPortheris, with all her charms, was likely to prove. It was difficult, of course, to see the connection, but I could not help confiding to Mr. Mafferton, as a secret, that there was hardly any chance of my unionwith Dicky--after what poppa had said. When I assured him that I had nointention whatever of disobeying my parent in a matter of which he wasso much better qualified to be a judge than I, it was impossible not tosee Mr. Mafferton's good opinion of me rising in his face. He said hecould not help sympathising with the paternal view, but that was all he_would_ say; he refrained magnificently from abusing Dicky. And weparted mutually more deeply convinced than ever of the undesirability ofdoing anything rash in the all important direction we had beendiscussing. 

As we disembarked at Colico to take the train for Chiavenna, Mrs. Portheris, after seeing that Mr. Mafferton was collecting theportmanteaux, gave me a word of comfort and of admonition. "Take myadvice, my child, " she said, "and be faithful to poor dear Richard. Yourfather must, in the end, give way. I shall keep at him in yourinterests. When you left us this afternoon, " continued the ladymysteriously, "he immediately took out his fountain pen and wrote aletter. It was directed--I saw that much--to a Mr. Arthur Page. Is hethe creature who is to be forced upon you, my child?" Mrs. Portheris inthe sentimental view was really affecting. 

"I think it very likely, " I said calmly, "but I have promised to befaithful to Richard, Mrs. Portheris, and I will. "

But I really felt a little nervous. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The instant we saw the diligence momma declared that if she had to sitanywhere but in the middle of it she would remain in Chiavenna untilnext day. Mrs. Portheris was of the same mind. She said that even the_intérieur_ would be dangerous enough going down hill, but if theSenator would sit there too she would try not to be nervous. The _coupé_was terrifying--one saw everything the poor dear horses did--and as tothe _banquette_ she could imagine herself flying out of it, if we somuch as went over a stone. As a party we were strangers to thediligence; we had all the curiosity and hesitation about it, as Dickyremarked, of the animals when Noah introduced them to the Ark. I askedDicky to describe the diligence for the purpose of this volume, thinkingthat it might, here and there, have a reader who had never seen one, andhe said that, as soon as he had made up his mind whether it was mostlike a triumphal chariot in a circus procession or a boudoir car in anambulance, he would; but then his eyes wandered to Isabel, who waspinker than ever in the mountain air, and his reasoning faculties lefthim. A small German with a very red nose, most incoherent in hisapparel--he might have been a Baron or again a hair-dresser--alreadyoccupied one of the seats in the _intérieur_, so after our elders hadbeen safely deposited beside him the _banquette_ and the _coupé_ wereleft, as Mrs. Portheris said, to the adventurous young people. Dicky andI had conspired, for the sustained effect on Mrs. Portheris, to sit inthe _banquette_, while Isabel was to suffer Mr. Mafferton in the_coupé_--an arrangement which her mother viewed with entire complacency. "After all, " said Mrs. Portheris to momma, "we're not in Hyde Park--andyoung people will be young people. " We had not counted, however, withthe Senator, who suddenly realised, as Dicky was handing me up, that itwas his business, in the capacity of Doge, to interfere. It is to hiscredit that he found it embarrassing, on account of his natural, almostpaternal, dislike to make things unpleasant for Dicky. He assumed asternly impenetrable expression, thought about it for a moment, and thenapproached Mr. Mafferton. 

"I'd be obliged to you, " he said, "if you could arrange, without puttingyourself out any, to change places with young Dod, there, as far as St. Moritz. I have my reasons--but not necessarily for publication. See?"

Mr. Mafferton's eye glistened with appreciation of the confidencereposed in him. "I shall be most happy, " he said, "if Dod doesn't mind. "But Dicky, with indecent haste, was already in the _coupé_. "Don'tmention it, Mafferton, " he said out of the window. "I'm delighted--atleast--whatever the Senator says has got to be done, of course, " and hemade an attempt to look hurt that would not have imposed upon anybodybut a self-constituted Doge with a guilty conscience. I took mybereavement in stony calm, with possibly just a suggestion about myeyebrows and under-lip that some day, on the far free shores of LakeMichigan, a downtrodden daughter would re-assert herself; poppare-entered an _intérieur_ darkened by a thunder-cloud on the brow of hisAunt Caroline; and we started. 

It was some time before Mr. Mafferton interfered in the least with theEngadine. He seemed wrapped in a cloud of vain imaginings, sprung, obviously, from poppa's ill-considered request. I understood hisemotions and carefully respected his silence. I was unwilling to beinstructed about the Engadine either botanically or geologically--it wasmore agreeable not to know the names of the lovely little foreignflowers, and quite pleasant enough that every turn in the road showed usa white mountain or a purple one without having to understand what itwas made of. Besides, I particularly did not wish to precipitateanything, and there are moments when a mere remark about the weatherwill do it. I had been suffering a good deal from my conscience sinceMrs. Portheris had told me that poppa had written to Arthur--I didn'tmind him enduring unnumbered pangs of hope deferred, but it was quiteanother thing that he should undergo the unnecessary martyrdom ofimagining that he had been superseded by Dicky Dod. On reflection, Ithought it would be safer to start Mr. Mafferton on the usual lines, andI nerved myself to ask him whether he could tell me anything about theprehistoric appearance of these lovely mountains. 

"I am glad, " he responded absently, "that you admire my favourite Alps. "Nothing more. I tried to prick him to the consideration of the sceneryby asking him which were his favourite Alps, but this also came tonothing. Having acknowledged his approval of the Alps, he seemed willingto let them go unadorned by either fact or fancy. I offered himsandwiches, but he seemed to prefer his moustache. Presently he rousedhimself. 

"I'm afraid you must think me very uninteresting, Miss Wick, " he said. 

"Dear me, no, " I replied. "On the contrary, I think you are a lovelytype. "

"Type of an Englishman?" Mr. Mafferton was not displeased. 

"Type of some Englishmen. You would not care to represent the--ah, commercial classes?"

"If I had been born in that station, " replied Mr. Mafferton modestly, "Ishould be very glad to represent them. But I should _not_ care to be aLabour candidate. "

"It wouldn't be very appropriate, would it?" I suggested. "But do youever mean to run for anything, really?"

"Certainly not, " Mr. Mafferton replied, with slight resentment. "In ourfamily we never run. But, of course, I will succeed my uncle in theUpper House. "

"Dear me!" I exclaimed. "So you will! I should think it would be simplylovely to be born a legislator. In our country it is attained by suchpainful degrees. " It flashed upon me in a moment why Mr. Mafferton wasso industrious in collecting general information. He was storing it upagainst the day when he would be able to make speeches, which nobodycould interrupt, in the House of Lords. 

The conversation flagged again, and I was driven to comment upon theappearance of the little German down in the _intérieur_. It was quiteremarkable, apart from the bloom on his nose, his pale-blue eyeswandered so irresponsibly in their sockets, and his scanty, flaxen beardmade such an unsuccessful effort to disguise the amiability of his chin. He wore a braided cotton coat to keep cool, and a woollen comforter tokeep warm, and from time to time he smilingly invited the attention ofthe other three to vast green maps of the country, which I could see himapologising for spreading over Mrs. Portheris's capacious lap. It wasinteresting to watch his joyous sense of being in foreign society, andhis determination to be agreeable even if he had to talk all the time. Now and then a sentence bubbled up over the noise of the wheels, as whenhe had the happiness to discover the nationalities of hisfellow-travellers. 

"Ach, is it so? From England, from America also, and I from Markadorfam! Four peoples, to see zis so beautiful Switzerland from everyveres inone carriage we are come!" He smiled at them one after another in theinnocent joy of this wonderful fact, and it made me quite unhappy to seehow unresponsive they had grown. 

"In America I haf one uncle got----"

"No, I don't know him, " said the Senator, who was extremely tired ofbeing expected to keep up with society in Castle Garden. 

"But before I vas born going, mein uncle I myself haf never seen! ToChicago mit nossings he went, und now letters ve are always getting itis goot saying. "

"Made money, has he?" poppa inquired, with indifference. 

"Mit some small flours of large manufacture selling. Dose smallflours--ze name forgotten I haf--ze breads making, ze cakes making, zemädschen----"

"Baking powder!" divined momma. 

"Bakings--powder! In America it is moch eat. So mine uncle Blittens----"

"Josef Blittens?" exclaimed poppa. 

"Blittens und Josef also! The name of mine uncle to you is known! He isso rich, mit carriage, piano, large family--he is now famous also, hein?My goot uncle!"

"He's been my foreman for fifteen years, " said poppa, "and I don't carewhere he came from; he's as good an American now as there is in theUnion. I am pleased to make the acquaintance of any member of hisfamily. There's nothing in the way of refreshments to be got till wenext change horses, but as soon as that happens, sir, I hope you willtake something. "

After that we began to rattle down the other side of the Julier and Ilost the thread of the conversation, but I saw that Herr Blittens'determination to practise English was completely swamped in theSenator's desire to persuade him of the advantages of emigration. 

"I never see a foreigner in his native land, " said Mr. Mafferton, regarding this one with disapproval, "without thinking what a pity it isthat any portion of the earth, so desirable for instance as this is, should belong to him. " Which led me to suggest that when he enteredpolitical life in _his_ native land Mr. Mafferton should aim at theCabinet, he was obviously so well qualified to sustain Britishtraditions. 

My companion's mind seemed to be so completely diverted by this prospectthat I breathed again. He could be depended upon I knew, never to thinkseriously of me when there was an opportunity of thinking seriously ofhimself, and in that certainty I relaxed my efforts to make it quiteimpossible that anything should happen. I forgot the contingencies ofthe situation in finding whiter glaciers and deeper gorges, and lookingfor the Bergamesque sheep and their shepherds which Baedeker assured uswere to be seen pasturing on the slopes and heights of the Julierwearing long curling locks, mantles of brown wool, and peaked Calabrianhats. We grew quite frivolous over this phenomenon, which did notappear, and it was only after some time that we observed the Baedeker tobe of 1877, and decided that the home of truth was not in old editions. It seemed to me afterwards that Mr. Mafferton had been waiting for hisopportunity; he certainly took advantage of a very insufficient one. 

"It's exactly, " said I, talking of the compartments of the diligence, "as if Isabel and Dicky had the first floor front, momma and poppa thedining room, and you and I the second floor back. "

It was one of those things that one lives to repent if one survives themfive seconds; but my remorse was immediately swallowed up inconsequences. I do not propose to go into the details of Mr. Mafferton'ssecond attempt upon my insignificant hand--to be precise, I wear fivesand a quarter--but he began by saying that he thought we could do betterthan that, meaning the second floor back, and he mentioned Park Lane. Healso said that ever since Dicky, doubtless before his affections hadbecome involved, had told him that there was a possibility of mychanging my mind--I was nearly false to Dicky at this point--he had beengiving the matter his best consideration, and he had finally decidedthat it was only fair that I should have an opportunity of doing so. These were not his exact words, but I can be quite sure of myimpression. We were trotting past the lake at Maloja when this came uponme, and when I reflected that I owed it about equally to poppa and toDicky Dod I felt that I could have personally chastised them--could haveslapped them--both. What I longed to do with Mr. Mafferton was to hurlhim, figuratively speaking, down an abyss, but that would have been tosend him into Mrs. Portheris's beckoning arms next morning, and I hadlittle faith in any floral hat and pink bun once its mamma's commandswere laid upon it. I thought of my cradle companion--not tenderly, Iconfess--and told Mr. Mafferton that I didn't know what I had done todeserve such an honour a second time, and asked him if he had properlyconsidered the effect on Isabel. I added that I fancied Dicky wasgeneralising about American girls changing their minds, but I would tryand see if I had changed mine and would let him know in six days, atHarwich. Any decision made on this side of the Channel might so easilybe upset. And this I did knowing quite well that Dicky and Isabel and Iwere all to elope from Boulogne, Dicky and Isabel for frivolity and Ifor propriety; for this had been arranged. In writing a description ofour English tour I do not wish to exculpate myself in any particular. 

We arrived late at St. Moritz, and the little German, on a veryfraternal footing, was still talking as the party descended from the_intérieur_. He spoke of the butterflies the day before in Pontresina, and he laughed with delight as he recounted. 

"Vorty maybe der vas, vifty der vas, mit der diligence vlying along; undder brittiest of all I catch; he _vill_ come at my nose"

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Leaving out the scenery--the Senator declares that nothingspoils a book of travels like scenery--the impressions of St. Moritzwhich remain with me have something of the quality, for me, of theillustrations in a French novel. I like to consult them; they are socrisp and daintily defined and isolated and individual. Yet I can onlywrite about an upper class German mamma eating brodchen and honey withthree fair square daughters, young, younger, youngest, and not a flaxenhair mislaid among them, and the intelligent accuracy with which theylooked out of the window and said that it was a horse, the horse waslame, and it was a pity to drive a lame horse. Or about the two Americanladies from the south, creeping, wrapped up in sealskins, along thestill white road from the Hof to the Bad, and saying one to the other, "Isn't it nice to feel the sun on yo' back?" Or about the curio shops onthe ridge where the politest little Frenchwomen endeavour to persuadeyou that you have come to the very top of the Engadine for the purposeof buying Japanese candlesticks and Italian scarves to carry down again. It was all so clear and sharp and still at St. Moritz; everything drewa double significance from its height and its loneliness. But, as poppasays, a great deal of trouble would be saved if people who feel thatthey can't describe things would be willing to consider the alternativeof leaving them alone; and I will only dwell on St. Moritz long enoughto say that it nearly shattered one of Mr. Mafferton's most cherishedprinciples. Never in his life before, he said, had he felt inclined totake warm water in his bath in the morning. He made a note of thetemperature of his tub to send to the _Times_. "You never can tell, " hesaid, "the effect these little things may have. " I was beginning to beaccustomed to the effect they had on me. 

Before we got to Coire the cool rushing night had come and the glaciershad blotted themselves out. I find a mere note against Coire to theeffect that it often rains when you arrive there, and also that it is aplace in which you may count on sleeping particularly sound if you comeby diligence; but there is no reason why I should not mention that itwas under the sway of the Dukes of Swabia until 1268, as momma wishes meto do so. We took the train there for Constance, and between Coire andConstance, on the Bodensee, occurred Rorshach and Romanshorn; but wedidn't get out, and, as momma says, there was nothing in the leastindividual about their railway stations. We went on that Bodensee, however, I remember with animosity, taking a small steamer at Constancefor Neuhausen. It was a gray and sulky Bodensee, full of little dullwaves and a cold head wind that never changed its mind for a moment. Isabel and I huddled together for comfort on the very hard wooden seatthat ran round the deck, and the depth of our misery may be gatheredfrom the fact that, when the wind caught Isabel's floral hat under thebrim and cast it suddenly into that body of water, neither of us lookedround! Mrs. Portheris was very much annoyed at our unhappy indifference. She implied that it was precisely to enable Isabel to stop a steamer onthe Bodensee in an emergency of this sort that she had had her taughtGerman. Dicky told me privately that if it had happened a week before hewould have gone overboard in pursuit, for the sake of business, withouthesitation, but, under the present happy circumstances, he preferred theprospect of buying a new hat. Nothing else actually transpired duringthe afternoon, though there were times when other events seemed asprecipitant, to most of us, as upon the tossing Atlantic, and we madeport without having realised anything about the Bodensee, except that wewould rather not be on it. 

Neuhausen was the port, but Schaffhausen was of course the place, two orthree dusty miles along a river the identity of which revealed itself toMrs. Portheris through the hotel omnibus windows as an inspiration. "Dowe all fully understand, " she demanded, "that we are looking upon theRhine?" And we endeavoured to do so, though the Senator said that if itwere not so intimately connected with the lake we had just beendelivered from he would have felt more cordial about it. I should liketo have it understood that relations were hardly what might be calledstrained at this time between the Senator and myself. There weresubjects which we avoided, and we had enough regard for our dignity, respectively, not to drop into personalities whatever we did, but we hada _modus vivendi_, we got along. Dicky maintained a noble and painedreserve, giving poppa hours of thought, out of which he emerged with thealmost visible reflection that a Wick never changed his mind. 

There was a garden with funny little flowers in it which went out offashion in America about twenty years ago. There was also a _châlet_ inthe garden, where we saw at once that we could buy cuckoo clocks andedelweiss and German lace if we wanted to. There was a big hotel full ofpeople speaking strange languages--by this time we all sympathised withMr. Mafferton in his resentment of foreigners in Continental hotels; ashe said, one expected them to do their travelling in England. There werethe "Laufen" foaming down the valley under the dining room windows, there were the Swiss waitresses in short petticoats and velvet bodicesand white chemisettes, and at the dinner table, sitting preciselyopposite, there were the Malts. Mr. Malt, Mrs. Malt, Emmeline Malt, andMiss Callis, not one of them missing. The Malts whom we had left atRome, left in the same hotel with Count Filgiatti, and to some purposeapparently, for seated attentively next to Mrs. Malt there also wasthat diminutive nobleman. 

As a family we saw at a glance that America was not likely to be thepoorer by one Count in spite of the way we had behaved to him. MissCallis, with four thousand dollars a year of her own, was going to offerthem up to sustain the traditions of her country. A Count, if she couldhelp it, should not go a-begging more than twice. Further impressionswere lost in the shock of greeting, but it recurred to me instantly towonder whether Miss Callis had really gone into the question of keepinga Count on that income, whether she would be able to give him all theluxuries he had been brought up in anticipation of. It was interestingto observe the slight embarrassment with which Count Filgiattire-encountered his earlier American vision, and his re-assurance when Igave him the bow of the most travelling of acquaintances. Nothing wasfurther from my thoughts than interfering. When I considered the numberof engagements upon my hands already, it made me quite faint tocontemplate even an _arrangimento_ in addition to them. 

We told the Malts where we had been and they told us where they had beenas well as we could across the table without seeming too confidential, and after dinner Emmeline led the way to the enclosed verandah whichcommanded the Falls. "Come along, ladies and gentlemen, " said Emmeline, "and see the great big old Schaffhausen Fraud. Performance begins atnine o'clock exactly, and no reserve seats, so unless you want to getleft, Mrs. Portheris, you'd better put a hustle on. "

Miss Malt had gone through several processes of annihilation at Mrs. Portheris's hands, and had always come out of them so much livelier thanever, that our Aunt Caroline had abandoned her to America some timepreviously. 

"Emmeline!" exclaimed Mrs. Malt, "you are _too_ personal. "

"She ought to be sent to the children's table, " Mrs. Portheris remarkedseverely. 

"Oh, that's all right, Mrs. Portheris. I don't like milk puddings--theygive you a double chin. I expect you've eaten a lot of 'em in your time, haven't you, Mis' Portheris? Now, Mr. Mafferton, you sit here, and you, Mis' Wick, you sit _here_. That's right, Mr. Wick, you hold up the wall. I ain't proud, I'll sit on the floor--there now, we're every one fixed. No, Mr. Dod, none of us ladies object to smoking--Mis' Portheris smokesherself, don't you, Mis' Portheris?"

"Emmeline, if you pass another remark to bed you go!" exclaimed hermother with unction. 

"I was fourteen the day before yesterday, and you don't send people offourteen to bed. I got a town lot for a birthday present. Oh, there'sthe French gentleman! _Bon soir, Monsieur! Comment va-t-il! Attendez!_"and we were suddenly bereft of Emmeline. 

"She's gone to play poker with that man from Marseilles, " remarked Mrs. Malt. "Really, husband, I don't know----"

"You able to put a limit on the game?" asked poppa. 

Everybody laughed, and Mr. Malt said that it wasn't possible forEmmeline to play for money because she never could keep as much as fivefrancs in her possession, but if she _did_ he'd think it necessary towarn the man from Marseilles that Miss Malt knew the game. 

"And she's perfectly right, " continued her father, "in describing thisillumination business as a fraud. I don't say it isn't pretty enough, but it's a fraud this way, they don't give you any choice about payingyour money for it. Now we didn't start boarding at this hotel, we wentto the one down there on the other side of the river. We were very muchfatigued when we arrived, and every member of our party went straight tobed. Next day--I always call for my bills daily--what do I find in myaccount but '_Illumination de la chute de la Rhin_' one franc apiece. "

"And you hadn't ordered anything of the kind, " said poppa. 

"Ordered it? I hadn't even seen it! Well, I didn't lose my temper. Itook the document down to the office and asked to have it explained tome. The explanation was that it cost the hotel a large sum of money. Isaid I guessed it did, and it was also probably expensive to get hot andcold water laid on, but I didn't see any mention of that in the bill, though I used the hot and cold water, and didn't use the illumination. "

"That's so, " said poppa. 

"Well, then the fellow said it was done all on my account, or words tothat effect, and that it was a beautiful illumination and worth twicethe money, and as it was the rule of the hotel he'd have to trouble mefor the price of it. "

"Did you oblige him?" asked poppa. 

"Yes, I did. I hated to awfully, but you never can tell where the lawwill land you in a foreign country, especially when you can't conversewith the judge, and I don't expect any stranger could get justice inSchaffhausen against an hotel anyway. But I sent for my party's trunks, and we moved--down there to that little thing like a castle overhangingthe Falls. It was a castle once, I believe, but it's a deception now, for they've turned it into an hotel. "

"Find it comfortable there?" inquired the Senator. 

"Well, I'm telling you. Pretty comfortable. You could sit in the gardenand get as wet as you liked from the spray, and no extra charge; and ifyou wanted to eat apricots at the same time they only cost you a francapiece. So when I saw how moderate they were every way, I didn't thinkI'd have any trouble about the illumination, specially as I heard thatthe three hotels which compose Schaffhausen subscribed to run theelectric plant, and I'd already helped one hotel with its subscription. "

"When did you move in here?" asked poppa. 

"I am coming to that. Well, I saw the show that night. I happened to beon an outside balcony when it came off, and I couldn't help seeing it. Iwouldn't let myself out so far as to enjoy it, for fear it mightprejudice me later, but I certainly looked on. You can't keep your eyesshut for three-quarters of an hour for the sake of a principle valued ata franc a head. "

"I expect you had to pay, " said poppa. 

"You're so impatient. I looked coldly on, and between the differentcoloured acts I made a calculation of the amount the hotel opposite waslosing by its extortion. I took considerable satisfaction in doing it. You can get excited over a little thing like that just as much as if itwere the entire Monroe Doctrine; and I couldn't sleep, hardly, thatnight for thinking of the things I'd say to the hotel clerk if theillumination item decorated the bill next day. Cut myself shaving in themorning over it--thing I never do. Well, there it was--'_Illumination dela chute de la Rhin_, ' same old French story, a franc apiece. "

"I thought, somehow, from what you've been saying, that it _would_ bethere, " remarked the Senator patiently. 

"Well, sir, I tried to control myself, but I guess the clerk would tellyou I was pretty wild. There wasn't an argument I didn't use. I threw asmany lights on the situation as they did on the Falls. I asked him howit would be if a person preferred his Falls plain? I told him I paidhim board and lodging for what Schaffhausen could show me, not for whatI could show Schaffhausen. I used the words 'pillage, ' 'outrage, ' andother unmistakable terms, and I spoke of communicating the matter to theAmerican Consul at Berne. "

"And after that?" inquired the Senator. 

"Oh, it wasn't any use. After that I paid, and moved. Moved right uphere, this morning. But I thought about it a good deal on the way, andconcluded that, if I wasn't prepared to sample every hotel within tenmiles of this cataract for the sake of not being imposed upon, I'd haveto take up a different attitude. So I walked up to the manager theminute we arrived, fierce as an Englishman--beg your pardon, SquireMafferton, but the British _have_ a ferocious way with hotel managers, as a rule. I didn't mean anything personal--and said to him exactly asif it was my hotel, and he was merely stopping in it, 'Sir, ' I said, 'Iunderstand that the guests of this hotel are allowed to subscribe to anelectric illumination of the Falls of the Rhine. You may put me down forten francs. Now I'm prepared, for the first time, to appreciate theevening's entertainment. "

Shortly after the recital of Mr. Malt's experiences the illuminationbegan, and we realised what it was to drink coffee in fairyland. Poppaadvises me, however, to attempt no description of the Falls ofSchaffhausen by any light, because "there, " he says, "you will come intocompetition with Ruskin. " The Senator is perfectly satisfied withRuskin's description of the Falls; he says he doesn't believe much couldbe added to it. Though he himself was somewhat depressed by them, hefound that he liked them so much better than Niagara. I heard him myselftell five different Alpine climbers, in precise figures, how much morewater went over our own cataract. 

It was discovered that evening that Mr. And Mrs. Malt, and Emmeline, andMiss Callis and the Count were going on to Heidelberg and down the Rhineby precisely the same train and steamer that we had ourselves selected. Mrs. Malt was looking forward to the ruins on the embattled Rhine withall the enthusiasm we had expended upon Venice, but Mr. Malt declaredhimself so full of the picturesque already that he didn't know how hewas going to hold another castle. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

We were on our way from Basle to Heidelberg, I remember, andMr. Malt was commenting sarcastically upon Swiss resources for namingtowns as exemplified in "Neuhausen. " "There's a lot about this country, "said Mr. Malt, "that reminds you of the world as it appeared about thetime you built it for yourself every day with blocks, and made it livelywith animals out of your Noah's Ark. I can't say what it is, but that'sa sample of it--'New Houses!' What a baby baa-lamb name for a town! Itwould settle the municipality in our part of the world--any railwaywould make a circuit of fifty miles to avoid it!"

Mr. Mafferton and I had paused in our conversation, and these remarksreached us in full. They gave him the opportunity of bending asympathetic glance upon me and saying, "How graphic your countrymen are, Miss Wick. " Cologne was only three days off, but Mr. Mafferton neverdeparted from the proprieties in his form of address. He was in thatrespect quite the most docile and respectful person I have ever found itnecessary to keep in suspense. 

I said they were not all as pictorial as Mr. Malt, and noticed that hiseye was wandering. It had wandered to Miss Callis, who was snubbing theCount, and looking wonderfully well. I don't know whether I havementioned that she had blue eyes and black hair, but her occupation, ofcourse, would be becoming to anybody. 

"And for the matter of that your country-women, too, " said Mr. Mafferton. "I am much gratified to have the opportunity of making theacquaintance of another of them in this unexpected way. I find yourfriend, Miss Callis, a charming creature. "

She wasn't my friend, but the moment did not seem opportune for sayingso. 

"I saw you talking a good deal to her yesterday, " I said. 

Mr. Mafferton twisted his moustache with a look of guilty satisfactionwhich I found hard to bear. "Must I cry _Peccavi_?" he said. "You seeyou were so--er--preoccupied. You said you would rather hear about thegrowth of the Swiss Confederacy and its relation to the Helvetia of theAncients another day. "

"That was quite true, " I said indignantly. 

"I found Miss Callis anxious to be informed without delay, " said Mr. Mafferton, with a slightly rebuking accent. "She has a very open mind, "he went on musingly. 

"Oh, wonderfully, " I said. 

"And a highly retentive memory. It seems she was shown over our place inSurrey last summer. She described it to me in the most perfect detail. She must be very observant. "

"She's as observant as ever she can be, " I remarked. "I expect she coulddescribe you in the most perfect detail too, if she tried. " I sweetenedthis with an exterior smile, but I felt extremely rude inside. 

"Oh, I fear I could not flatter myself--but how interesting that wouldbe! One has always had a desire to know the impression one makes as awhole, so to speak, upon a fresh and unsophisticated young intelligencelike that. "

"Well, " I said, "there isn't any reason why you shouldn't find out atonce. " For the Count had melted away, and Miss Callis was not nearly somuch occupied with her novel as she appeared to be. 

Mr. Mafferton rose, and again stroked his moustache, with a quizzicaldisciplinary air. 

 "Oh woman, in your hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please!"

He quoted. "You are a very whimsical young lady, but since you send meaway I must abandon you. "

"Thanks so much!" I said. "I mean--I have myself to blame, I know, " andas Mr. Mafferton dropped into the seat opposite Miss Callis I saw Mrs. Portheris regard him austerely, as one for whom it was possible to maketoo much allowance. 

In connection with Heidelberg I wish there were something authentic tosay about Perkeo; but nobody would believe the quantity of wine he issupposed to have drunk in a day, which is the statement oftenest madeabout him, so it is of no consequence that I have forgotten the numberof bottles. He isn't the patron saint of Heidelberg, because he onlylived about a hundred and fifty years ago, and the first qualificationfor a patron saint is antiquity. As poppa says, there may be elderlygentlemen in Heidelberg now whose grandfathers have warned them againstthe personal habits of Perkeo from actual observation. Also we know thathe was a court jester, and the pages of the Calendar, for some reason, are closed to persons in that walk of life. Judging by the evidences ofhis popularity that survive on all sides, Mr. Malt declared that he wasprobably worth more to the town in attracting residents and investorsthan half-a-dozen patron saints, and in this there may have been moretruth than reverence. The Elector Charles Philip, whose court he jestedfor, certainly made no such mark upon his town and time as Perkeo did, and in that, perhaps, there is a moral for sovereigns, although theSenator advises me not to dwell upon it. At all events, one writes ofHeidelberg but one thinks of Perkeo, as he swings from the sign-boardsof the Haupt-Strasse, and stands on the lids of the beer mugs, andsmiles from the extra-mural decoration of the wine shops, and lifts hisglass, in eternally good wooden fellowship, beside the big Tun in theCastle cellar. There is a Hotel Perkeo, there must be Clubs Perkeo, probably a suburb and steamboats of the same name, and the local oath"Per Perkeo!" has a harmless sound, but nothing could be more bindingin Heidelberg. Momma thought his example a very unfortunate one for aUniversity town, but the rest of us were inclined to admire Perkeo as aself-made man and a success. As Dicky protested he had made the fullestuse of the capacities Nature had given him, it was evident from hisfigure that he had even developed them, and what more profitable courseshould the German youth follow? He was cheerful everywhere--as theforerunner of the comic paper one supposes he had to be--but mostimpressive in his effigy by his master's wine vat, in the perpetualaroma that most inspired him, where, by a mechanical arrangement insidehim, he still makes a joke of sorts, in somewhat graceless aspersion ofthe methods of the professional humorists. Emmeline found him very likeher father, and confided her impression to Mrs. Malt. "But of course, "she added condoningly, "poppa was different when you married him. "

Perkeo was not so sentimental as the Trumpeter of Sakkingen, and theTrumpeter of Sakkingen was not so sentimental as the HeidelbergUniversity student. The Heidelberg University student was as a rule veryround and very young, and he seemed to give up the whole of his sparetime to imitating the passion which I hope has not been permitted toenter too largely into this book of travels. 

Dicky and I agreed that it was a mere imitation; that is, Dicky said itwas and I agreed. It could not possibly amount to anything more, for itconsisted wholly in walking up and down in front of the house in whichits object lived. We saw it being done, and it looked so uninterestingthat we failed to realise what it meant until we inquired. Mrs. Portheris's nephew, Mr. Jarvis Portheris, who was acquiring German inHeidelberg, told us about it. Mrs. Portheris's nephew was just fourteenand small of his age, but he, too, had selected the lady of hisadmiration, and was taking regular daily pedestrian exercise in front ofher residence. He pointed out the residence, and observed with anenormous frown that "another man" had usurped the pavement in hisabsence, and was doing it in quick step doubtless to show his ardour. "He's a beastly German too, " said Mrs. Portheris's nephew, "so I can'tchallenge him, but I'll jolly well punch his head. "

"Come on, " said Dicky, "you'd better steady your nerves, " and treatedhim liberally to ginger-beer and currant buns; but we were not allowedto see the encounter, which Mr. Jarvis Portheris, gratefully satiate, assured us must be conducted on strict lines of etiquette, with formalpreliminaries. He was so very young, and obviously knew so little aboutwhat he was doing, that we questioned him with some delicacy, but wediscovered that the practice had no parallel, as Dicky put it, for lackof incident. It was accompanied in some cases by the writing of poetry, "German poetry, of course, " said Mrs. Portheris's nephew ineffably, buteven that was more likely to be exhibited as evidence of the writer'sfervid state of mind than to be sent to its object, who plaited herhair and attended to her domestic duties as if nobody were in the streetbut the fishmonger. In Mr. Jarvis Portheris's case he did not know thecolour of her eyes, or the number of her years; he had selected her, itseemed, at a venture, in church, from a rear view, sitting; and hadnever seen her since. Dicky, whose predilections of this sort havealways been very active, asked him seriously why he adhered to such ahollow mockery, and he said regretfully that a fellow more or less hadto; it was one of the beastly nuisances of being educated abroad. Butfrom what we saw of the German temperament generally we were convincedthat as a native demonstration it was sincere, and that its idiocy aroseonly, as Dicky expressed it, from the remarkable lack in foreigners ofbusiness capacity. 

We all congratulated ourselves on seeing Heidelberg while the Universitywas in session, and we could observe the large fat students in flat blueand pink and green club caps, swaggering about the town accompanied bydogs of almost equal importance. The largest and fattest, I thought, wore white caps, and, though Mr. Jarvis Portheris said that white wasthe most aristocratic club's colour, they looked remarkably like bakers. The Senator had an object in Heidelberg, as he had in so many places, and that object was to investigate the practice of duelling, whicheverybody understands to prevail to a deadly extent among the students. It was plain from their appearance that personal assault at all eventswas regrettably common, for nearly everyone of them wore traces of itin their faces, wore them as if they were particularly becoming. Everyvariety of scar that could well be imagined was represented, somehealed, some healing, and some freshly gory. The youth with the mostscars, we observed, gave himself the most airs, and the reallyvainglorious were, more or less, obscured in cotton-wool, evidently justfrom the hands of the surgeon. The Senator examined them individually asthey passed, with an inquisitiveness which they plainly enjoyed, and wasmuch impressed with their fighting qualities as a race, until Mr. JarvisPortheris happened to explain that the scars were very carefully givenand received with an almost exclusive view to personal adornment. Mr. Mafferton appeared to have known this before; but that was an irritatingway he had--none of the rest of us did. The Senator regarded the nextyouth he met, who had elongated his mouth to run up into his ear withoutadding in the least to his charms of appearance, with barely disguisedcontempt, and when Mr. Jarvis Portheris proceeded to explain how thedoctors pulled open the cuts if they promised to heal without leavingany sign of valour, poppa's impatience with the noble army of duellistsgrew so great that he could hardly remain in Heidelberg till the trainwas ready to take him away. 

"But don't they ever by _accident_ do themselves any harm?" inquired mydisappointed parent. 

"There's one case on record, " said Mr. Jarvis Portheris, "and everybodyhere says it's true. One fellow that was fighting happened to have adog, and the dog was allowed in. Well, the other fellow, by accident, sliced off the end of the fellow that had the dog's nose--I don't meanthe dog's nose, you know, but the fellow's. That was going a bit far, you know; they don't generally go so far. Well, the doctor said thatwould be all right, they could easily make it grow on again; but whenthey looked for the nose--_the dog had eaten it!_ They never allow dogsin now. "

It was a simple little story, and it bore marks of unmistakable age andmany aliases, but it did much to reconcile the Senator to the Universitystudent of Heidelberg, and especially to his dog. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Emmeline had childlike lapses; she rejoiced greatly, for instance, atseeing a Strasbourg stork. She confessed, when she saw it, to havingread Hans Andersen when she was a little girl, and was happy in theresemblance of the tall chimneys he stood on, and the high-pitched redroofs he surveyed, to the pictures she remembered. But, for that matter, so were we all. We had an hour and a half at Strasbourg, and we drove, of course, to the Cathedral; but it was the stork that we saw, and thateach of us privately considered the really valuable impression. He stoodbeside his nest with his chin sunk in his neck, looking immensely luckyand wise, and one quite agreed with Emmeline that it must be lovely tolive under him. 

We lunched at the station, and, as the meal progressed, saw again howwidespread and sincere is the German sentiment to which I alluded, perhaps too lightly, in the last chapter. Our waitresses were all thatcould be desired, until there came between us and them a youth fromparts without. He was sallow, and the waitresses were buxom; he mighthave been a student of law or medicine, they were naturally of muchlower degree. But they frankly forsook us and sat down beside him interms of devotion and an open aspect of radiant happiness. When one wentto draw his lager beer he put an unrepelled arm round the waist of theother, and when the first came back he chucked her under the chin withundisguised affection, the while we looked on and starved, none knowingthe language except Isabel, who thought of nothing but blushing. As Mr. Malt said, if the young man could only have made up his mind, we mighthave been able to get along with the rejected one; but, apparently, hewas not in the least embarrassed by numbers, sending a large andbeguiling smile to yet a further hand-maiden, who passed enviouslythrough the _speise-salle_ with a basin of soup. It was only when Dickystalked across to the old woman who sold sausages and biscuits behind acounter, and pointed indignantly to the person who held all theavailable table service of the Strasbourg railway station on his knees, that we obtained redress. The old woman laughed as if it were amusing, and called the maidens shrilly; but even then they came with reluctance, as if we had been mere schnapps instead of ten complete luncheons, onesoup, and a bread and cheese, as Dicky said. The bread and cheese wasthe Count, and one gathered from it that the improvement in hisimmediate prospects was not yet assured, that the arrangimento was stillin futuro. 

We had become such a large party, that it is impossible to relate thewhole of our experiences even in the half hour during which we dawdledround the Strasbourg waiting-room until the train should start. I knowit was then, for instance, that Mrs. Portheris took Dicky aside and toldhim how deeply she sympathised with him in his trying position, and badehim only be faithful to the dictates of his own heart and all would comeright in time. I know Dicky promised faithfully to do so, but I must notdwell upon it. Nor is the opportunity adequate to express theindignation we all felt, and not Mr. Mafferton merely, at theinsufficient personal impression we made upon the German railwayofficials. They were so completely preoccupied with their magnificentselves and their vast business that they were unable even to look at uswhen we asked them questions, and their sole conception of a reply wasan order, in terms that sounded brutal to a degree. They wereobjectionably burly and red in the face; they wore an offensive numberof buttons and straps upon their uniforms. As Mr. Mafferton said, theyutterly misconceived their position in life, attempting to Kaiser thetravelling public by Divine right instead of recognising themselves ashumble servants, buttoned only to be made more agreeable to the eye. 

One such person trampled upon us to such an extent that I have neverbeen able to satisfy myself that the Senator was sincere in making hislittle mistake. We were sitting in dejected rows, with a number of otherforeigners who had been similarly reduced, when this official enteredthe waiting-room, advanced to the middle of it, posed with greatmajesty, and emitted several bars of a kind of chant or chime. It wasdelivered with too much vigour, and it stopped too abruptly, to beentirely enjoyable; but there was no doubt about the musical intention. It was not even intoning; it was singing, beginning with moderation, going on stronger with indignation, and ending suddenly in a crescendoof denunciation. 

We smiled in difficult self-restraint as he went away, and Dickyremarked that he supposed we were in their hands, we couldn't object toanything they did to us. In five minutes he came back to exactly thesame spot and sang again the same words, in the same key, with the sameunction. "Encore!" exclaimed Mr. Malt boldly, but cowered under theglare that was turned upon him, and utterly fell away when we remindedhim of the punishments attached in Germany to the charge of _lèsemajesté_. Precisely five minutes more passed away, and Bawlinbuttons, asMiss Callis called him, entered again. Then occurred the Senator'slittle mistake. In the midst of the second bar, the indignant one, Bawlinbuttons stopped short, petrified by poppa, who had advanced andwas holding out copper coins whose usefulness we had left behind us, tothe value of about fifteen cents. 

"Here's the collection, " said poppa benevolently--for an instant or twohe was quite audible--"but unless you know some other tune the companywish me to say that they won't trouble you any further. "

There are misunderstandings that are never rectified, sometimes becausea train draws up at the platform as in this case, and sometimes forother reasons, and it was natural enough that poppa should fail tocomprehend Bawlinbuttons' indignant shouts to the effect that a Kaisershould never be mistaken for an organ-grinder, merely because his tastesare musical. Neither is it likely that the various Teutons who werewaiting for the information will ever understand why the announcementthat the train for Saarburg, Nancy, Frankfort, and Mayence would leaveat ten o'clock precisely was never completed for the third time, according to the regulation. But we have often wondered since whatBawlinbuttons did with the coppers. 

We divided up on the way to Mayence, and Mr. And Mrs. Malt came intothe compartment with the Senator, momma, and me. Mr. Malt wasunsatisfied with poppa's revenge on Bawlinbuttons, and proposed to makethings awkward further for the guard. He said it could be done verysimply, by a disagreement between himself and the Senator as to whetherthe windows should be open or shut. He said he had heard of a Germanguard put to the most enjoyable misery by such a dispute, not knowingthe language of the disputants and being forced to arbitrate upon theirrespective demands. Mr. Malt had laughed at the Senator's joke, so theSenator, of course, had to assist at Mr. Malt's, and they began to workthemselves up, as Mr. Malt said, into the spirit of it. Mr. Malt was toinsist that the windows should be shut, he said he _had_ got a triflingcold, and the Senator was to require them open in the interests ofventilation. They rehearsed their arguments, and momma putting her headout of the window at the first small station cried, "Be quick and changeyour expressions--he's coming!"

In the presence of the guard Mr. Malt rose with dignity and closed thewindows. The Senator, with a well-simulated scowl, at once opened themboth. 

"Stranger!" said Mr. Malt, while momma fumbled for her ticket, "I shutthose windows. "

"Sir, " responded poppa, "if you had not done so I shouldn't have beenobliged to open them. "

"I can't die of pneumonia, sir, " said Mr. Malt, again closing thewindow, "to oblige _you_. "

"Nor do I feel compelled, " returned the Senator furiously, "toasphyxiate my family to make it comfortable for you!" and the windowfell with a bang. 

The guard, holding out a massive hand for my ticket, took no noticewhatever. 

"Put it up again, " said Mrs. Malt, who was more anxious than any of usto avenge herself upon the German railway system, "and try to break theglass. "

"Attract his attention, Alexander, " said momma. "Pull one of his sillybuttons off. "

The guard gave no sign--he was replacing the elastic round my book ofcoupons after detaching the green one on which was printed, "Strasburgnach Mainz. "

Poppa and Mr. Malt were sitting opposite each other in the middle ofthe carriage. 

"I tell you I've got bronchial trouble, and I won't be manslaughtered, "cried Mr. Malt, hurling himself upon the strap, while poppa seized theguard by the arm and pointed to the closed window. The only foreignlanguage with which poppa is acquainted is that used by the Indians onthe banks of the Saguenay river, a few words of which he acquired whilesalmon fishing there two years ago. These he poured forth upon theguard--they were the only ones that occurred to him, he said--at thesame time threatening with his disengaged fist bodily assault upon Mr. Malt. 

"That ought to draw him, " said Mrs. Malt. 

It did draw him. 

"Leave go!" he said to poppa, and his air of authority was such thatpoppa left go. "Is this here a lunatic party, or a young menagerie, orwhat? Now look here, " he continued, taking Mr. Malt by the elbow andseating him with some violence in a corner seat and shutting the window. "If you've got eight tickets for yourself say so, if you haven't that'sas much an' more than you are entitled to. The other gentleman----" Butthe Senator had already collapsed into the furthest corner and waslooking fixedly through the closed glass. "Well, all I've got to sayis, " he went on, lowering that window with decision, "that you can't gokickin' up rows in this country same as you do at home, an' if you can'tget along more satisfactory together I'll----" here something interruptedhim, requiring to be transferred from the Senator's hand to the nearestconvenient pocket. "As I was goin' to say, gentlemen, there isn't any whatyou might call strict rule about the windows, an' as far as I'm concerned, you can settle it for yourselves. "

Whereupon he swung along to the next carriage, the train having started, and left us to reflect on the incongruity of an English railway guard inGermany. 

It was curious, but the incident left behind it a certain coolness, sowell defined that when momma suggested that the Malts' window should belowered as it was before to give us a current of air, Mrs. Malt said shethought it would be better to abide by the decision of the guard, nowthat we had referred it to him, and momma said, "Oh dear me, yes, " ifshe preferred to do so, and everybody established the most aggressivelyprivate relations with books and newspapers. It was quite a relief whenMrs. Portheris came at the next station to inquire whether, if we had nomarried Germans in our compartment, we could possibly make room forIsabel. Mrs. Portheris had married Germans in her compartment, two pairsof them, and she could no longer permit her daughter to observe theirbehaviour. "They obtrude their domestic relations, " said Mrs. Portheris, "in the most disgusting way. They are continually patting each other. Quite middle-aged, too! And calling each other 'Leibchen, ' and otherthings which may be worse. My poor Isabel is dreadfully embarrassed, for, of course, she can't always look out of the window. And as sheunderstands the language, I can't possibly tell _what_ she mayoverhear!"

We made room for Isabel, but the train to Mayence was crowded that day, and before we arrived we had ample reason to believe that conjugalaffection is not only at home but abroad in Germany. The Senator, at onepoint, threatened to travel on the engine to avoid it. He used, I thinkthe language of exaggeration about it. He said it was the mostobjectionable article made in Germany. But I did not notice that Isabeldevoted herself at all seriously to looking out of the window. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

"He tells me, " said Miss Callis, "that you are to give him his answer atCologne. "

"Does he, indeed?" said I. We were floating down the Rhine in thesociety of our friends, two hundred and fifty other floaters, and astring band. We had left the battlements of Bingen, and the Mouse Towerwas in sight. As we had already acquired the legend, and were sittingbehind the smoke stack, there was no reason why we should not discussMr. Mafferton. 

"I suppose he does not, by any chance, mention an alternative lady, " Isaid carelessly. 

"I don't know, " said Miss Callis, "that I should be disposed to listento him if he did. He would have to put it in some other light. "

"Why should you object?" I asked. "Isabel is quite a proper person tomarry him. Much more so, I often think, than I. "

"Oh!" said Miss Callis without meaning to. "I think he has outgrown thattaste. In fact, he told me so. "

"He is for ever seeking a fresh bosom for a confidence!" I cried. 

Miss Callis looked at me with more interest than she would have wishedto express. 

"What do you really think of him?" she asked. "I sometimes feel as if Ihad known you for years, " and she took my hand. 

I gave hers a gentle pressure, and edged a little nearer. "He has goodshoulders, " I remarked critically. 

"You would hardly marry him for his _shoulders_!"

"It doesn't seem quite enough, " I admitted, "but then--his informationis always so accurate. "

"If you think you would like living with an encyclopedia. " Miss Callishad begun to look embarrassed by my hand, but I still permitted it tonestle confidingly in hers. 

"He pronounces all his g's, " I said, "and--did you ever see him in asilk hat?"

"I don't think you are really attached to him, dear. " (The "dear" was areally creditable sacrifice to the situation. )

"I sometimes think, " I murmured, "that one never knows one's own heartuntil some sudden circumstance puts it to the test. Now if I had arival--in you, for instance--and I suddenly saw myself losing--but, ofcourse, that is impossible so far as you are concerned. Because of theCount. "

"The Count isn't in it, " said Miss Callis firmly. "At least at present. "

"But, " I protested, "somebody must provide for him! I was so happy inthe thought that you had undertaken it. "

Miss Callis gave me back my hand. She looked as if she would have likedto throw it overboard. 

"As you say, " she said, "it is a little difficult to make up one's mind. Don't you think those rocks to the right may be the Lorelei? I must goand tell Mrs. Malt. She won't be fit to travel with for a week if shemisses the Lorelei. " And Miss Callis left me to reflect upon theinconsistencies of my sex. 

"Do you realise, " said Dicky, as, with an assumed air of nonchalance, hesauntered up and took her chair, "that we shall be in Cologne in fivehours?"

"Fateful Cologne, " I said. "There are Roman remains, I believe, as wellas the Cathedral and the scent. Also a Museum of Industrial Art, butwe'll skip that. "

"We'll skip all of it, " replied Mr. Dod, with determination, "you and Iand Isabel. The train for Paris leaves at nine precisely. "

"Haven't you made up your minds to let me off, " I pleaded. "I am sureyou would be happier alone. It's so unusual to elope with two ladies. "

"You don't seem to realise how Isabel has been brought up, " Dickyreturned patiently. "She can't travel alone with me, don't you see, until we are married. Afterwards she'll chaperone you back to your partyagain. So it will be all right for _you_, don't you see?"

I was obliged to say I saw, and we arranged the details. We would reachCologne about six, and Isabel and I, who would share a room as usual, were secretly to pack one bag between us, which Dicky would smuggle outof the hotel and send to the station. Isabel was to be fatigued and dinein her room; I was to leave the _table d'hôte_ early to solace her, Dicky was to dine at a _café_ and meet us at the station. We would putout the lights and lock the door of the apartment on our departure, andthe chambermaid with hot water in the morning would be the first todiscover our flight. We only regretted that we could not be there to seethe astonishment of the chambermaid. "I won't fail you, " I assured Mr. Dod, "but what about Isabel? Isabel is essential; in fact, I won'tconsent to this elopement without her. "

"Isabel, " said Dicky dubiously, "is all right, so far as her intentionsgo. But she'd be the better for a little stiffening. Would you mind----"

I groaned in spirit, but went in search of Isabel, thinking of phrasesthat might stiffen her. I found her looking undecided, with a pencil anda slip of paper. 

"How lucky you are, " I said diplomatically, sinking into the nearestchair, "to be going to wind up your trip on the Continent in such adelightful way. It will be--ah--something to remember all your life. "

"Oh, I suppose so, " said Isabel plaintively, "but I should _so_ muchprefer to be done in church. If mamma would only consent!"

"She never would, " I declared, for I felt that I must see Isabel Mrs. Dod within the next day or two at all costs. 

"A registry office sounds so uninteresting. I suppose one just goes--asone is. "

"I don't think veils and trains are worn, " I observed, "except bypersons of high rank who do not approve of the marriage service. I don'tknow what the Marquis of Queensberry might do, or Mr. Grant Allen. "

"Of course, the ceremony doesn't matter to _them_, " replied Isabelintelligently, "because they would just wear morning dress _anywhere_. "

"Looking at it that way, they haven't much to lose, " I conceded. 

"And no wedding cake, " grieved Isabel, "and no reception at the house ofthe bride's mother. And you can't have your picture in the _Queen_. "

"There would be a difficulty, " I said, "about the descriptive part. "

"And no favours for the coachman, and no trousseau----"

"I wonder, " I said, "whether, under those circumstances, it's reallyworth while. "

"Oh, well!" said Isabel. 

"It's a night to Paris, and a morning to Dover, " I said. "We will waitfor the others at Dover--I fancy they'll hurry--that'll be another day. I'll take one _robe de nuit_, Isabel, three pocket handkerchiefs, onebrush and comb, and tooth brush. You shall have all the rest of thebag. "

"You are a perfect love, " exclaimed Miss Portheris, with the mosttouching gratitude. 

"We will share the soap, " I continued, "until you are married. Afterwards----"

"Oh, you can have it then, " said Isabel, "of course, " and she looked atthe Castle of Rheinfels and blushed beautifully. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

"There was only one thing that disappointed me, " Mrs. Malt was saying atthe dinner table of the Cologne hotel, "and that wasn't so much what youwould call a disappointment as a surprise. White windows-blinds in arobber castle on the Rhine I did not expect to see. "

I slipped away before momma had time to announce and explain herdisappointments, but I heard her begin. Then I felt safe, for criticismof the Rhine is absorbing matter for conversation. The steamer's customof giving one stewed plums with chicken is an affront to civilisation tolast a good twenty minutes by myself. I tried to occupy and calmIsabel's mind with it as we walked over to the station, under the twintowers of the Cathedral, but with indifferent success. To add to heragitation at this crisis of her life, the top button came off her glove, and when that happened I felt the inutility of words. 

We passed the policemen on the Cathedral square with affectedindifference. We believed we were not liable to arrest, but policemen, when one is eloping, have a forbidding look. We refrained, by mutualarrangement, from turning once to look back for possible pursuers, butthat is not a thing I would undertake to do again under similarcircumstances. We even had the hardihood to buy a box of chocolates onthe way, that is, Isabel bought them, while I watched current events atthe confectioner's door. The station was really only about sevenminutes' walk from the hotel, but it seemed an hour before I was able topoint out Dicky, alert and expectant, on the edge of the platform behindthe line of cabs. 

"So near the fulfilment of his hopes, poor fellow, " I remarked. 

"Yes, " concurred Isabel, "but do you know I almost wish he wasn'tcoming. "

"Don't tell him so, whatever you do, " I exclaimed. "I know Dicky'ssensitive nature, and it is just as likely as not that he would take youat your word. And I will not elope with you alone. "

I need not have been alarmed. Isabel had no intention of reducing theparty at the last moment. I listened for protests and hesitations whenthey met, but all I heard was, "_Have_ you got the bag?"

Dicky had the bag, the tickets, the places, everything. He had alreadyassumed, though only a husband of to-morrow, the imperative andresponsible connection with Isabel's arrangements. He told her she wasto sleep with her head toward the engine, that she was to drink nothingbut soda-water at any of the stations, and that she must not, on anyaccount, leave the carriage when we changed for Paris until he came forher. It would be my business to see that these instructions werecarried out. 

"What shall I do, " I asked, "if she cries in the night?"

But Dicky was sweeping us toward the waiting-room, and did not hear me. He placed us carefully in the seats nearest the main door, which openedupon the departure platform, full of people hurrying to and fro, and ofthe more leisurely movement of shunting trains. The lamps were lighted, though twilight still hung about; the scene was pleasantly exciting. Isaid to Isabel that I never thought I should enjoy an elopement so much. 

"_I_ shall enjoy settling down, " she replied thoughtfully. "Dicky haspromised me that all the china shall be hand-painted. "

"You won't mind my leaving you for five seconds, " said Mr. Dod, suddenlyexploring his breast-pocket; "the train doesn't leave for a quarter ofan hour yet, and I find I haven't a smoke about me, " and he opened thedoor. 

"Not more that five seconds then, " I said, for nothing is more trying tothe nerves than to wait for a train which is due in a few minutes and aman who is buying cigars at the same time. 

Dicky left the door open, and that was how I heard a strangely familiarvoice, with an inflexion of enforced calm and repression, suddenlyaddress him from behind it. 

"_Good evening, Dod!_"

I did not shriek, or even grasp Isabel's hand. I simply got up andstood a little nearer the door. But I have known few moments soelectrical. 

"My dear chap, how _are_ you?" exclaimed Dicky. "How are you? Staying inCologne? I'm just off to Paris. "

I thought I heard a heavy sigh, but it was somewhat lost in thetrundling of the porters' trucks. 

"Then, " said Arthur Page, for I had not been deceived, "it is as Isupposed. "

"What did you suppose, old chap?" asked Dicky in a joyous and expansivetone. 

"You do not go alone?"

The bitterness of this was not a thing that could be communicated topaper and ink. 

"Why, no, " said Dicky, "the fact is----"

I saw the wave--it was characteristic--with which Mr. Page stopped him. "I have been made acquainted with the facts, " he said. "Do not dwellupon them. I do not, cannot, blame you, if you have really won herheart. "

"So far as I know, " said Dicky, with some hauteur, "there's nothing init to give _you_ the hump. "

"Why waste time in idle words?" replied Arthur. "You will lose yourtrain. I could never forgive myself if I were the cause of that. "

"You won't be, " said Dicky sententiously, looking at his watch. 

"But I must ask--must demand--the privilege of one parting word, " saidArthur firmly. "Do not be apprehensive of any painful scene. I desireonly to wish her every happiness, and to bid her farewell. "

Mr. Dod, though on the eve of his wedding day, was not wholly obliviousof the love affairs of other people. I could see a new-born andoverwhelming comprehension of the situation in his face as he put hishead in at the door and beckoned to Isabel. Evidently he could not trusthimself to speak. 

"Miss Portheris, " he said, with magnificent self-control, "Mr. Page. Mr. Page would like to wish you every happiness and to bid you farewell, Isabel, and I don't see why he shouldn't. We have still five minutes. "

There are limits to the propriety of all practical jokes, and I walkedout at once to assure Arthur that his misunderstanding was quitenatural, and somewhat less exquisitely humorous than Mr. Dod appeared tofind it. 

"I am merely eloping too, " I said, "in case anything should happen toIsabel. " Realising that this was also being misinterpreted, I added, "She is not accustomed to travelling alone. "

We had shaken hands, and that always makes a situation more normal, butthere was still plainly an enormous amount to clear up, and painfullylittle time to do it in, though Dicky with great considerationimmediately put Isabel into the carriage and followed her to itsremotest corner, leaving me standing at the door, and Arthur holding itopen. The second bell rang as I learned from Mr. Page that thePattersons had gone to Newport this summer, and that it was extremelyhot in New York when he left. As the guard came along the platformshutting up the doors of the train, Arthur's agitation increased, and Isaw that his customary suffering in connection with me, was quite asgreat as anybody could desire. The guard had skipped our carriage, butit was already vibrating in departure--creaking--moving. I looked atArthur in a manner--I confess it--which annihilated our two months ofseparation. 

"Then since you're not going to marry Dod, " he inquired breathlessly, walking along with the train--"I've heard various reports--whom, may Iask, _are_ you going to marry?"

"Why, nobody, " I said, "unless----"

"Well, I should think so!" ejaculated Arthur, and in spite of thefrightful German language used by the guard, he jumped into thecarriage. 

He has maintained ever since that he was obliged to do it in order toexplain his presence on the platform, which was, of course, carrying thematter to its logical conclusion. It seemed that the Senator had advisedhim to come over and meet us accidentally in Venice, where he hadintimated that reunion would be only a question of privacy and a fullmoon. On his arrival at Venice--it was _his_ gondola that we shared--theSenator had discouraged him for the moment, and had since constantlytelegraphed him that the opportune moment had not yet arrived. Finallypoppa had written to say that, though he grieved to announce that Iwas engaged to Dicky, and he could not guarantee any disengagement, hewas still operating to that end. This, however, precipitated Mr. Page toCologne, where observation of our movements at a distance brought him tothe wrong conclusion, but fortunately to the right platform. As Isabelremarked, if such things were put in books nobody would believe them. 

[Illustration: "Whom _are_ you going to marry?"]

It seemed quite unreasonable and absurd when we talked it over thatArthur and I should travel from Cologne to Dover merely to witness thenuptials of Dicky and Isabel. As Dicky pointed out, moreover, our moralsupport when it came to the interview with Mrs. Portheris would be muchmore valuable if it were united. There would be the registrar--oneregistrar would do--and there would be the opportunity of making it asquare party. These were Dicky's arguments; Arthur's were more personalbut equally convincing, and I must admit that I thought a good deal ofthe diplomatic anticipation of that magnificent wedding which was toillustrate and adorn the survival of the methods of the Doge of Venicein the family of a Senator of Chicago. And thus it was that we were allmarried sociably together in Dover the following morning, despatching atelegram immediately afterwards to the Senator at the Cologne hotel asfollows:

 "We have eloped. (Signed) R. And I. Dod. A. And M. Page. "

Later on in the day we added details, to show that we bore no malice, and announced that we were prepared to await the arrival of the rest ofthe party for any length of time at Dover. 

We even went down to the station to meet them, where recriminations andcongratulations were so mingled that it was impossible, for some time, to tell whether we were most blessed or banned. Even in the confusion ofthe moment, however, I noticed that Mr. Mafferton made Miss Callis'sbaggage his special care, and saw clearly in the cordiality of hersentiments toward me, and the firmness of her manner in ordering himabout, that the future peer had reached his last alternative. 

I rejoice to add that the day also showed that even Count Filgiatti hadfallen, in the general ordering of fates, upon happiness with honour. Inoticed that Emmeline vigorously protected him from the Customs officerwho wished to confiscate his cigarettes, and I mentioned her air ofproprietorship to her father. 

"Why, yes, " said Mr. Malt, "he offered himself as a count you see, andEmmeline seemed to think she'd like to have one, so I closed with him. There isn't anything likely to come of it for three or four years, buthe's willing to wait, and she's got to grow. "

I expressed my felicitations, and Mr. Malt added somewhat regretfullythat it would have been better if he'd had more in his clothes, but thatwas what you had to expect with counts; as a rule they didn't seem tohave what you might call any money use for pockets. In the meantimethey were taking him home to educate him in the duties of Americancitizenship. Emmeline put it to me briefly, "I'm not any Daisy Miller, "she said, "and I prefer to live out of Rome. "

Once a year the present Lady Mafferton invites Mrs. Portheris to tea, and I know they discuss my theory of engagements in a critical spirit. We have never seen either Miss Nancy or Miss Cora Bingham again, and Ishould have forgotten the names of Mr. Pabbley and Mr. Hinkson by thistime if I had not written them down in earlier chapters. Arthur and Ihave not yet made up our minds to another visit to England. We haveseveral friends there, however, whom we appreciate exceedingly, inspite, as we often say to one another, of their absurd and deplorableaccent. 

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_A MATTER OF SKILL. _

"A very charming love story, whose heroine is drawn with original skilland beauty, and whom everybody will love for her splendid if veryindependent character. "--_Boston Home Journal. _

_ONE REASON WHY. _

"A remarkably well-written story. . . . The author makes her people speakthe language of everyday life, and a vigorous and attractive realismpervades the book. "--_Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. _

_IN THE SUNTIME OF HER YOUTH. _

"The story has a refreshing air of novelty, and the people that figurein it are depicted with a vivacity and subtlety that are veryattractive. "--_Boston Beacon. _

_MARY FENWICK'S DAUGHTER. _

"A novel which will rank high among those of the presentseason. "-_Boston Advertiser. _

_ON THE LAKE OF LUCERNE, and other Stories. _ 16mo. Boards, withspecially designed cover, 50 cents. 

"Six short stories carefully and conscientiously finished, and told withthe graceful ease of the practiced _raconteur_. "--_Literary Digest. _

"Very dainty, not only in mechanical workmanship but in matter andmanner. "--_Boston Advertiser. _

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 

SOME NOTABLE AMERICAN FICTION in APPLETONS' TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY. Each, 12mo, cloth, $1. 00; paper, 50 cents. 

_A COLONIAL FREE-LANCE. _ By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss, author of "In Defiance of the King. "

"We have had stories of the Revolution dealing with its statesmen, itssoldiers, and its home life, but the good books relating to adventure bysea have been few and far between. The best of these for many a moon is'A Colonial Free-Lance' There is a rattle and dash, a continuity ofadventure that constantly chains the reader's attention and makes thebook delightful reading. "--_Philadelphia Inquirer. _

_THE SUN OF SARATOGA. _ By Joseph A. Altsheler. 

"Taken altogether, 'The Sun of Saratoga' is the best historical novel ofAmerican origin that has been written for years, if not, indeed, in afresh, simple, unpretending, unlabored, manly way, that we have everread. "--_New York Mail and Express. _

_MASTER ARDICK, BUCCANEER. _ By F. H. Costello. 

"This story is one of the real old-fashioned kind that novel readerswill take delight in perusing. There are incident and adventure inplenty. The characters are bold, knightly, and chivalrous, anddelightful entertainers. "--_Boston Courier. _

_THE INTRIGUERS. _ A Novel. By John D. Barry. 

"The story is a wholesome, enlivening bit of romance. It rings pure andsweet, and is most happy in its characterizations. "--_Boston Herald. _

"A bright society novel, sparkling with wit and entertaining frombeginning to end. "--_Boston Times. _

_IN DEFIANCE OF THE KING. _ A Romance of the American Revolution. ByChauncey C. Hotchkiss. 

"Thrills from beginning to end with the spirit of the Revolution. . . . Hiswhole story is so absorbing that you will sit up far into the night tofinish it, and lay it aside with the feeling that you have seen agloriously true picture of the Revolution. "--_Boston Herald. _

_IN OLD NEW ENGLAND. _ The Romance of a Colonial Fireside. ByHezekiah Butterworth. 

"We do not remember any other volume which holds within its covers aseries of such charming legends and traditions of New England's earlierhistory. . . . 'In Old New England' possesses a charm rare indeed. It willbe welcomed by young and old alike. "--_New York Mail and Express. _