The Princess Passes Volume 56 by Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson (book recommendations .TXT) 📖

Advance, Or A Few Yards In The Rear, Not To Annoy You

With Our Detestable Company, But----"

 

"Please Don't Be Revengeful," Entreated The Ex-Brat. "You Have Been So

Good To Us, Don't Be Un-Good Now. I Suppose One May Hate Men, Yet Be

Grateful To One Man--Anyhow, Till One Finds Him Out? I Can't Very Well

Find You Out Between Here And Aosta, Can I?--So We May Be Friends, If

You'll Walk Beside Me, Neither Behind Nor In Front. I Am Excited, And

Feel As If I _Must_ Have Someone To Talk To, But I Am A Little Tired

Of Conversation With Innocentina. I Know All She Has Ever Thought

About Since She Was Born."

 

"It's A Bargain Then," Said I. "We're Friends And Comrades--Until

Aosta. After That----"

 

"Each Goes His Own Way," He Finished My Broken Sentence; "As Ships

Pass In The Night. But This Little Sailing Boat Won't Forget That The

Big Bark Came To Its Help, In A Storm Which It Couldn't Have Weathered

Alone."

 

"Do You Know," Said I, As We Walked On Together, The Muleteer And The

Donkey Girl Behind Us, With The Animals, "You Are A Very Odd Boy. I

Suppose It Is Being American. Are All American Boys Like You?"

 

"Yes," Said He, Twinkling, "All. I Am Cut On Exactly The Same Pattern

As The Rest," And He Smiled A Charming Smile, Of Which I Could Not

Resist The Curious Fascination. "Did You Never Meet Any American Boys,

Till You Met Me?"

 

"I Can't Remember Having Any Real Conversation With One, Except Once.

His Mother Had Asked Me In His Presence (It Was In New York) How I

Liked America, And I Had Answered That It Dazzled Me; That The Only

Yearning I Felt Was For Something Dark And Quiet, And Small And

Uncomfortable. She Was Rather Pleased, But The Boy Put A String Across

The Drawing-Room Door When I Went Out, And Tripped Me Up. Then We Had

A Little Conversation--Quite A Short One--But Full Of Repartee. That's

Chapter 12 (The Princess) Pg 87

My Solitary Experience."

 

"I Should Have Wanted To Trip You Up For That Speech, Too; So You See

The Likeness Is Proved. It Is A Funny Thing, I Know Very Few

Englishmen. I've Met Several, But, As You Say, I Never Had Any Real

Conversation With Them."

 

"Maybe, If You Had, You Wouldn't Be So Down On Your Sex When It Has

Reached Adolescence."

 

[Illustration: "'Do You Know,' Said I, 'You Are A Very Queer Boy'".]

 

"I'm Afraid There Isn't Much Difference In Men, Whatever Their

Country. But It's--Their Attitude Towards Women Which I Hate."

 

I Laughed. "What Do You Know About That?"

 

"I Have A Sister," Said He, After A Minute's Pause. And He Did Not

Laugh. "She And I Have Been--Tremendous Chums All Our Lives. There

Isn't A Thing She Has Done, Or A Thought She Has Had, That I Don't

Know, And The Other Way Round, Of Course."

 

"Twins?" I Asked.

 

"She Is Twenty-One."

 

"Oh, Four Or Five Years Older Than You."

 

The Boy Evidently Did Not Take This As A Question. "She Is

Unfortunately An Heiress," He Said. "Money Has Brought Misery Upon

Her, And Through Her, On Me; For If She Suffers, I Suffer Too. She

Used To Believe In Everybody. She Thought Men Were Even More Sincere

And Upright Than Women, Because Their Outlook On Life Was Larger, And

So It Was Easy For Her To Be Deceived. When She Came Out She Wasn't

Quite Eighteen (You See We Have No Father Or Mother, Only A Lazy Old

Guardian-Uncle), And She Thought Everyone Was Wonderfully Kind To Her,

So She Was Very Happy. I Suppose There Never Was A Happier Girl--For A

While. But By-And-Bye She Began To Find Out Things. She Discovered

That The Men Who Seemed The Nicest Only Cared For Her Money, Not For

Her At All."

 

"How Could She Be Sure Of That?"

 

"It Was Proved, Over And Over Again, In Lots Of Ways."

 

"But If She Is A Pretty And Charming Girl----"

 

"I Think She Is Only Odd--Like Me. People Don't Understand Her,

Especially Men. They Find Her Strange, And Men Don't Like Girls To Be

Strange."

 

"Don't They? I Thought They Did."

Chapter 12 (The Princess) Pg 88

"Think For Yourself. Have You Ever Been At All In Love? And If You

Have, Wasn't The Girl Quite, Quite Conventional; Just A Nice Sweet

Girl, Who Was Pretty, And Who Flirted, And Who Was Too Properly

Brought Up Ever To Do Or To Say Anything To Surprise You?"

 

"Well," I Admitted, My Mind Reviewing This Portrait Of Helen, Which

Was Really A Well-Sketched Likeness, "Now You Put It In That Way, I

Confess The Girl I've Cared For Most Was Of The Type You Describe. I

Can See That Now, Though I Didn't Think Of It Then."

 

"No, You Wouldn't; Men Don't. My Sister Soon Learned That She Wasn't

Really The Sort Of Girl To Be Popular, Though She Had Dozens Of

Proposals, Heaps Of Flowers Every Day, Had To Split Up Each Dance

Several Times At A Ball, And All That Kind Of Thing. It Was A Shock To

Find Out _Why_. To Her Face, They Called Her 'Princess,' And She Was

Pleased With The Nickname At First, Poor Thing. She Took It For A

Compliment To Herself. But She Came To Know That Behind Her Back It

Was Different; She Was The 'Manitou Princess.' You See, The Money, Or

Most Of It, Came Because Father Owned The Biggest Silver Mines In

Colorado, And He Named The Principal One 'Manitou,' After The Indian

Spirit. I Shan't Forget The Day When A Man She'd Just Refused, Told

Her The Vulgar Nickname--And A Few Other Things That Hurt. But I Don't

Know Why I'm Talking To You Like This. I Wanted To Get Away From You

Yesterday, Because I--Don't Care To Meet People. Everything Seems

Different Though, Now. I Suppose It's Because You Saved Our Lives. I

Feel As If You Weren't Exactly A New Person, But As If--I'd Known You

A Long Time."

 

"I Have The Same Sort Of Feeling About You, For Some Queer Reason,"

Said I. "Are We Also To Know Each Other's Names?"

 

"No," He Answered Quickly. "That Would Spoil The Charm: For There Is A

Charm, Isn't There? But We Won't Call Each Other Brat And Brute Any

More. That's Ancient History. I'll Be For You--Just Boy. I Think I

Will Call You Man."

 

"But You Hate Man."

 

"I Don't Hate You. If I Were A Girl I Might, But As It Is, I Don't. I

Like You--Man."

 

"And I Like You, Boy. We Are Pals Now. Shall We Shake Hands?"

 

We Did. I Could Have Crushed His Little Brown Paw, If I Had Not

Manipulated It Carefully.

 

After That, We Did Not Talk Much. By-And-Bye, He Was Tired, And

Remounted His Donkey, But We Still Kept Side By Side, Innocentina

Sending At Intervals A Perfunctory Cry Of "Fanny-Anny," From A

Distance, By Way Of Keeping The Small Brown _Âne_ To Her Work.

 

So We Reached The Beautiful Valley Of Aosta, As The Transparent Azure

Veil Of The Italian Dusk Was Drawn, And Out Of That Dusk Glimmered Now

Chapter 12 (The Princess) Pg 89

And Then, As If Born Of The Shadows, Strange, Stunted, And Misshapen

Forms, Gnome-Like Creatures, Who Stood Aside To Let Us Pass Along The

Road. It Was As If The Brownie Club Were Out For A Night Excursion;

And I Remembered My Muleteer's Lecture About The _Crétins_ Of This

Happy Valley. These Were Some Of Them, Going Back To Town From Their

Day's Work In The Fields. I Had Set My Mind Upon Stopping At A Hotel

Of Which Joseph Had Told Me, Extolling Its Situation At A Distance

From Aosta _Ville_, The Wonderful Mountain-Pictures Its Windows

Framed, And A Certain Pastoral Primitiveness, Not Derogatory To

Comfort, Which I Should Find In The _Ménage_. But When My Late Enemy

And New Chum Remarked That He Was Going To The Mont Blanc, I

Hesitated.

 

"And You?" He Asked.

 

"Oh, I--Well, I Had Thought--But It Doesn't Matter."

 

"I See What You Mean. Would It Be Disagreeable For You If I Were In

The Same Hotel?"

 

"On The Contrary. But You----"

 

"I Know Now That We Shall Never Rub Each Other Up The Wrong

Way--Again. Besides, We Shan't Have The Chance. I Suppose You Go On

Somewhere Else To-Morrow?"

 

"No, I Want To Stop A Day Or Two. Some Friends Have Asked Me To Tell

Them About The Sights Of The Neighbourhood, And What Sort Of Motoring

Roads There Are Near By."

 

"I'm Stopping, Too. So, After All, The Little Sailing Boat And The Big

Bark Aren't Going To Pass Each Other This Night? They Are To Anchor In

The Same Harbour For A While."

 

"And Here's The Harbour," Said I, For We Had Come Down From The Hills

Into A Marvellous Old Town Of Ancient Towers And Arches, With A

Background Of White Mountains. Molly Should Have Been Satisfied. I Had

Obeyed Her Instructions To The Letter, And I Was In Aosta At Last.

 

 

 

Chapter 13 (Afternoon Calls) Pg 90

    "If You Climb To Our Castle's Top

     I Don't See Where Your Eyes Can Stop."

                         --Robert Browning.

 

 

Our Hotel Had A Big Loggia, As Large As A Good-Sized Room, And We

Dined In It, With A Gorgeous Stage Setting. The Mountains Floated In