A Voyage Of Consolation by Sara Jeannette Duncan (librera reader .txt) 📖

Ordinary Thing Possible. Mrs.

Portheris Looked On At Our Greeting With An Air Of Objecting To Things

She Had Not Been Taught To Expect,  And Remarked That She Had No Idea Mr.

Mafferton Was One Of My London Acquaintances. "But Then," She Continued

In A Tone Of Just Reproach,  "I Saw So Little Of You During Your Season

In Town That You Might Have Made The Queen'S Acquaintance And All The

Royal Family,  And I Should Have Been None The Wiser."

 

It Was Too Much To Expect Of One'S Momma That She Should Let An

Opportunity 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 Queen

Has A Very Good Reputation In Our Country. We Think Her A Wise Sovereign

And A Perfect Lady. I Suppose You Often Go To Her Drawing Rooms."

 

Mrs. Portheris Wore The Expression Of One Passing Through The Stone Age

To A Somewhat More Mobile Period. "I Really Think," She Said,  "I Should

Have Been Made Aware Of That. To Have Had A Young Relative Presented

Without One'S Knowledge Seems _Too_ Extraordinary. No," She Continued,

Turning To Poppa,  "The Only Thing I Heard Of This Young Lady--It Came To

Me In a _Very_ Roundabout Manner--Was That She Had Gone Home To Be

_Married_. Was Not That Your Intention?" Asked Mrs. Portheris,  Turning

To 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 As

Mr. Mafferton. "Circumstances Interfered." I Was Prepared For An Inquiry

As To What The Circumstances Were,  And Privately Made Up My Mind That

Mrs. Portheris Was Too Distant A Relation To Be Gratified With Such

Information In The Publicity Of The Eiffel Tower. But She Merely Looked

At Me With Suspicion,  And Said It Was Much Better That Young People

Should Discover Their Unsuitability To One Another Before Marriage Than

After. "I Can Conceive Nothing More Shocking Than Divorce," Said Mrs.

Portheris,  And Her Tone Indicated That I Had Probably Narrowly Escaped

It.

 

We Were Rather A Large Party As We Made Our Way To The Elevator,  And I

Found Myself Behind The Others In conversation With Dicky Dod. It Was A

Happiness To Come Thus Unexpectedly Upon Dicky Dod--He Gave Forth All

That Is Most Exhilarating In Our Democratic Civilisation,  And He Was In

Excellent Spirits. As The Young Lady Of Mrs. Portheris'S Party Joined Us

I Thought I Found A Barometric Reading In Mr. Dod'S Countenance That

Explained The Situation. "I Remember You," She Said Shyly,  And There Was

Something In This Innocent Audacity And The Blush Which Accompanied It

That Helped Me To Remember Her Too. "You Came To See Mamma In Half

Moon-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 Looked

Distressed,  "You Couldn'T Help It. I Was Very Unexpected,  And I Might

Have Been Dangerous. How--How You'Ve _Grown_!" I Really Couldn'T Think

Of 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'S

Long Frocks And Doing Up One'S Hair,  You Know."

 

"Miss Portheris Only Came Out Two Months Ago," Remarked Mr. Dod,  With

The Effect Of Announcing That Venus Had Just Arisen From The Foam.

 

"Come,  Young People," Mrs. Portheris Exclaimed From The Lift; "We Are

Waiting For You." Poppa And Momma And Mr. Mafferton Were Already Inside.

Mrs. Portheris Stood In The Door. As Isabel Entered,  I Saw That Mr. Dod

Was Making The Wildest Efforts To Communicate Something To Me With His

Left Eye.

 

"Come,  Young People," Repeated Mrs. Portheris.

 

"Do You Think It'S Safe For So Many?" Asked Dicky Doubtfully. "Suppose

Anything Should _Give_,  You Know!"

 

Mrs. Portheris Looked Undecided. Momma,  From The Interior,  Immediately

Proposed 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 About

Overcrowding,  And I Think It'S Better To Run No Risks Myself. You All Go

Down,  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 Official

Attached 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 Were

Going 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,  "I

Also Will Remain At The Top;" But Her Determination Arrived Too Late.

With A Ferocious Gesture The Little Official Shut The Door And Gave The

Signal,  And Mrs. Portheris Sank Earthwards,  A Vision Of Outraged

Propriety. 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. We

Haven'T Forgotten What You Did In Your Humble Way,  You Know,  At Election

Time. I Can Promise For The Family That We'Ll Do Anything We Can. You

Mustn'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 De

La Concorde Looks Down There,  Doesn'T It! It'S Like Looking Through The

Wrong 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 A

Perfect Fiend Of A Chaperone. By Jove,  Mamie,  Let'S Be Silhouetted!"

 

"Poppa Was Silhouetted," I Said,  "And The Artist Turned Him Out The

Image Of Senator Frye. Now He Doesn'T Resemble Senator Frye In The Least

Degree. 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 Began

Recklessly,  But With The Vision Before My Eyes Of Momma On The Steps

Below Wanting Her Tea,  I Cut Him Short.

 

"So Far As You Are Concerned,  Dicky,  I See The Way It Is," I Interposed

Sympathetically. "The Question Is----"

 

"Exactly. So It Is. About Isabel. But I Can'T Find Out. It Seems To Be

So Difficult With An English Girl. Doesn'T Seem To Think Such A Thing As

A--A Proposal Exists. Now An American Girl Is Just As Ready----"

 

"Richard," I Interrupted Severely,  "The Circumstances Do Not Require

International Comparisons. By The Way,  How Do You Happen To Be

Travelling With--With Mr. Mafferton?"

 

"That'S Exactly Where It Comes In," Mr. Dod Exclaimed Luminously. "You'D

Think,  The Way Mafferton Purrs Round The Old Lady,  He'D Been A Friend Of

The Family From The Beginning Of Time! Fact Is,  He Met Them Two Days

Before They Left London. _I_ Had Known Them A Good Month,  And The

Venerable One Seemed To Take To Me Considerably. There Wasn'T A Cab She

Wouldn'T Let Me Call,  Nor A Box At The Theatre She Wouldn'T Occupy,  Nor

A Supper She Wouldn'T Try To Enjoy. Used To Ask Me To Tea. Inquired

Whether 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. Isabel

Always Made The Tea Out Of A Canister The Old Lady Kept Locked. Singular

Habit That,  Locking Tea Up In a Canister."

 

"You Are Wandering,  Dicky," I Said. "And Isabel Used To Ask You Whether

You Would Have Muffins Or Brown Bread And Butter--I Know. Go On."

 

"Girls _Have_ Intuition," Remarked Mr. Dod With A Glance Of Admiration

Which I Discounted With Contempt. "Well,  Then Old Mafferton Turned Up

Here 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 Pure

English--Seems To Think She'D Like It Better--See? At Least,  I Take It

That Way; He'S Cousin To A Lord," Dick Added Dejectedly,  "And You Know

Financially I'Ve Been Coming Through A Cold Season."

 

"It'S Awkward," I Admitted,  "But Old Ladies Of No Family Are Like That

Over Here. I Know Mrs. Portheris Is An Old Lady Of No Family,  Because

She'S A Connection Of Ours,  You See. What About Isabel? Can'T You Tell

The Least Bit?"

 

"How Can A Fellow? She Blushes Just As Much When He Speaks To Her As

When I Do."

 

"But Are You Quite Sure," I Asked Delicately,  "Whether Mr. Mafferton

Is--Interested?"

 

"There'S The Worst Kind Of Danger Of It," Dicky Replied Impressively. "I

Don'T Know Whether I Ought To Tell You,  But The Fact Is Mafferton'S Just

Got The Sack--I Beg Your Pardon--Just Been _CongéEd_ Himself. They Say

She Was An American And It Was A Bad Case; She Behaved Most

Unfeelingly."

 

"You Shouldn'T Believe All You Hear," I Said,  "But I Don'T See What That

Has To Do With It."

 

"Why,  He'S Just In The Mood To Console Himself. What Fellow Would Think

Twice 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 The

Elevator,  "Was That We Might Travel Together A Bit And That You Wouldn'T

Mind 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 Leave

To-Morrow. If We _Should_ Meet Again,  I Don'T Promise To Undertake It

Personally,  But I'Ll See What Momma Can Do."

Chapter 8

Poppa Said As We Steamed Out Of Paris That Night That The Presidency

Itself Would Not Induce Him To Reside There,  And I Think He Meant It. I

Don'T Know Whether The Omnibus _Numeros_ And The _Correspondances_ Where

You Change,  Or The Men Sitting Staring On The Side Walks Drinking Things

For Hours At A Time,  Or Getting No Vegetables To Speak Of With His

Joint,  Annoyed Him Most,  But He Was Very Decided In His Views. Momma And

I Were Not Quite So Certain; We Had A Guilty Sense Of Ingratitude When

We Thought Of The Creations In The Van; But The Cobblestones Biassed

Momma A Good Deal,  Who Hoped She Should Get Some Sleep In Italy. I Had

Breakfasted 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 Recollection

I Said Something Favourable About The Arc De Triomphe At Sunset; But I

Gathered From The Senator'S Remarks That,  While The Sunset Was Fine

Enough,  He Didn'T See The Propriety In Using It That Way As A Background

For Napoleon Bonaparte,  So To Speak.

 

"Result Is," Said The Senator,  "The Intelligent Foreigner'S Got Pretty

Nearly To Go Out Of The Town To See A Sunset Without Having To Think

About Aboukir And Alexandria. But That'S Paris All Over. There Isn'T A

Street,  Or A Public Building,  Or A Statue,  Or A Fountain,  Or A Thing

That Doesn'T Shout At You,  'Look At Me! Think About Me! Your Admiration

Or Your Life!' Those Frenchmen Don'T Mind It Because It Only Repeats

What They'Re Always Saying Themselves,  But If You'Re A Foreigner It Gets

On Your Nerves. That City Is Too Uniformly Fine To Be Of Much Use To

Me--It Keeps Me All The Time Wondering Why I'M Not In One Eternal Good

Humour To Match. There'S Good Old London Now--Always Looks,  I Should

Think,  Just As You Feel. Looks Like History,  Too,  And Change,  And

Contrast,  And