AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 'i.l m ^H W^' \ - ' f'tk %M ^ %4\ p\ /'/ '^ ^&(C /^ #1' :vv "^1^7^ 'fe ^^^ *J«^>>. ■.'^«*" ■^ ;*^. -liM*^ rl' r :|' i" THAT NICE MISS JAY TEXNE ' V-'-. ^ lARl r V ^- ■'- <■ ; '>/y\^^ ' ^'A. ^ r '\.v.' w n IJ.\MSON V, ton '. '? fS' CO.. r; \. ], ;, ' .Is » ... . ' .( ; .-. I nis ■■■■t'- r. 'S *J] • • ■^»«|»»l«iM ■fr* ■I I'l l ' J y a ,.* ■•;ft a. •V. .^' "?r.;. -I* ;'V" . *>v #■ ■■iJn. <: * .M*>l^?'^' 1 f >■■'■" fi ^y -M >•. .. .-tvy ^%. ;-=<^- " ^^^^' ,w /cv" 4-3; ' ■■■■ ';. %■ ■..■.•/■■ Fif S^ 'v i ■'iW 3/ •Kwr -.ww^CfSSS?! .ilAT KICK :*.*> _,\» ;*.. ,...ii. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON BY SARA JEANNETTE DUNCAN AUTHOR OF 'a social DEPAKTURB' IVITH SO ILLUSTRATIONS BY F H. TOIVNSEMD ^oronfo WILLIAMSON & CO., 5 KING STREET WEST 1891 2 2 335 1 77ie greater part of An American Girl in LoxnoN originally appeared in * The Lady's Pictorial' The Illustrations are now reproduced by kind permission of Mr Alfred Gibbons LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ' " THAT NICE MISS JAY PENNE " ' . . . INITIAL • I ' . ' THAT IS now IIK MADE HIS FORTUNE ' . •l THINK HE WILL IIDN ' ..... •she was teaching school in CHICAGO WHEN POPPA MET HER' FAOa Frotitispiece 1 3 4 5 • I AM AFRAID WE LOOKED AT IT WITH MORE INTEREST THAN WE EVER HAD DONE BEFORE ' . • WE SEEMED TO GET ON TOGETHER EVEN MORE AGREEABLY AFTER THAT ' ' WHAT PUZZLED ME WAS, WHY HE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ANOTHER CAB ' '•'THOSE DISGUSTING AMERICAN GIRLS " ' .... 1 WHERE SMALL BOYS GO ROUND ON ONE ROLLER SKATE ' ' FROM THE OOTSIDE I DIDN'T THINK MUCH OF MRS. PORTHERIS'S HOUSE ' 'THEY SAT OP VERY NICELY INDEED' .... ' THE OLD LADY GATHERED HERSELF UP AND LOOKED AT Me' . ' IT WAS MISS PURKISS'S ADDRESS ' . 'SPENT HALF AN HOUR IN THE MIDST OF MY TRUNKS ' . ' I WAITED FOR THE LADY OP THE HOUSE A CONSCIOUS HYPOCRITE ' "WE SENT two" '....... "I CAN DROP YOU ANYWHERE YOU LIKE" ' . . . ONE OP THE LADIES WAS SITTING BOLT UPRIGHT, WITH A STERN, MAJESTIC £xE •••••••« " THEN I LEAVE YOU, MISS WICK," SHE SAID, " TO THIS LADY — AND TO PROVIDENCE" ' . 8 18 20 24 30 34 37 39 45 46 56 66 69 73 77 VIM AN AMKRICAiX iilKL IX LONDON ' " MAKE Ifr&f HTOP WAOOLINO," I {'AM,r.I> TO TITK DIUVKll ' •"YOU HAVE THE TOE-IIEOANIN(i THAT MUST UK N.' K " ' . 'HOMEUOIiY HE CALLRD " DEAR-Ull III: Alt-It- l!-T \ " ' '"I WII.I. NOT I.AVE YOU IN Sl'UIl'KS," I HI'.AItK HIM SAY* . • UI'HET A CHIi,I) WITH A TOl'HKAVV IIONNKT' .... ' " PIjEASE IlOlilt MY I'AllAHOI., Ml!. :M \1' I IM! I'oN', I MAT I MAY (IKT THE EXACT THUTir Foil MY I'ENNY " ' '"WHAT DO YOU THINK Ol' THE UNItKIKl I!0I;M» ? " ' INITIAL ........ '"HO THIS IS WILLIAM THE CONQUKUOIt ! " ' .... ' LOItl) MAKKEIITON ' . ' DISAHUANOEI) MY KEATUItES I'Olt LirE ' ..... 'THE WHOLE I'LACE HPOKE OF ITS CHEAPNESS' 'THAT (lENTIiEMAN IN THE COLNEIl ISA n:Aril;i; OF YOUR OMNUJUS HYSTi:.M I think' ........ 'THE YOUNO WOMAN CIlAWLKh AWAY WITH THE NEOLIOENCE THAT IlECAMI THE DEAIIEHT PLACE ' . 'A PERSON OF (lltEAT HKIMTV, IN HKIH, IlLACK RLEEVES ' IMIMAL ........ '"YOU WICKED Woman"' ...... •"REMEMHE11, YOUNG LADY, TIIItEE-THlltTYS/tn!/7>"' INITIAL ' \V ' . 'WE LOOKED AT «HAKEHPEAUE, SUPREME AMONO THE.M ' •"life's a jest, and all THINOS show it; I THOUOHT so once, hND NOW ' OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENTS GLORY IN IT INITIAL ' L ' . DANCINO LIKE A DISJOINTED FOOT-RULE ' . . . '"REVERSE?" UE bAlD } "I DON'T THINK I EVER HEARD OF IT " ' LIST OF ILLUSTRAl'lOXS •l OSTKNHiniiY I.OOKKI) AT THK nANIiSCM'K ' .... •TIIKY WKUK Al.I, DIKFKUKNT FIIO.M ANY AMi:i!H'A\ (lll.STI-KMKN ' •ODl'IK I'UATTli; ' . 'WK DltOVK SIllAKilir OUT Ob' TOWN TO THK l^\ltAl>K-iahiiiom:i> ui:ai>i\(i hooks '........ 'I was takkn iiv Ktiui'ius.: ■ . ..... miiAi- ' I. ' ........ ' lAhY llANIiOltrST ' . . . , 'Bin; WAS Tin; ;most unintkukstkii imckhon i hayk had tiik i'i.kasuuk oi' TAI.KINd TO IN EN(1I,ANI>' ...... 'Ml!. HANOI, I;Y COIT'IN ' ...... 'AI,WAVS, AH II' IN IIIONY, IIY A MAN WHO SOU) (lIXdK.UltKKAD ' . 'AK ACTKKSS ON 1111: LYltlC DltAO (lAVK UH A VKIIY FKANlv AND l'UI.I--KI.AVOUl;M run KTSM oi'" ouii duiosskh ' . 'XHil.T AH IF I WKItK IN CHUltCH ' ..... WfriAl, 'l' . 'THi: ItKSPKCTAnLK SCOUl' ' ...... '4 (ii.NriNi; iiisiioi' ' . iimriAi, 't' ........ iNB'ui, 'm' ........ 'IB l.ti((Ki:i) AMUSKD AT MY laNOIlANCK ' .... \ |0 TIDY MTTKK MAIDS ' ks DdlloTHY EXl'LAINKU TH.\T IT WAS A CUltTHEY ' "ytlKiKVliU IIKAHD OK ATTKNIHNO ONE OF HEU MAJESTY'S Dl! \W INO-ltOOMS IN 1a KltoCK V1AI>E IN NEW YOllK I " ' ■% '*-%OU.ND THE CUUTSEY DIFFICCLT AT FIItST ' I'AOK 182 1h:; 188 11)4 11>7 '20:{ 207 20l> 211 212 211 224 2152 2;{;{ 241) 24: J 24(1 2r>;{ 2.>5 2(;:} 2(;7 272 275 281 2H9 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON PAGE * WE WENT DOWN IN THE LIFT, ONE AT A TIME, WITH CHARLOTTE AS TRAIN- BEARER ' . . . . . . . . .295 INITIAL 'P' 298 * AND CHAOS CAME AGAIN '.,,.,,. 299 * IT WAS MY TURN ' . . . . . . . . 305 * " IF THIS IS MISS WICK, 1 DON'T SEE WHY 1 SHOULDN'T HAVE A KIBS TOO " ' 311 * EVEN THEN HE LOOKED, 1 REMEMBER, A SERIOUS PERSON ' . . . 315 ♦the MISSES MAFFERTON, WHO ACCOMPANIED ME, TURNED QUITE PALE ' . 317 'THE ladies' steward' . . . . . , , . 320 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON A]\r an American Girl. Therefore, perhaps, you will not be surprised at anything further I may have to say for myself. I have observed, since 1 came to England, that this statement, made by a third person in con- nection with any question of my own conduct, is always broadly explanatory. And as my own conduct will naturally enter more or less into this volume, I may as well make it in the 'ginning, to save complications. It may be necessary at this point to ex])lain further. I low that in England an unmarried person, of my age, is not 'pected to talk much, especially about herself. This was a le difficult for me to understand at first, as I have always v'ed a great deal, and, one might say, been encouraged to do but I have at length been brought to understand it, and B 2 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON lately I have spoken witli becoming infrequency, and chiefly about the Zoo. I find the Zoo to be a subject which is almost certain to be received with approval; and in animal nature there is, fortunate!}^, a good deal of variety. I do not intend, how- ever, in this book, to talk 'about the Zoo, or anything con- nected with it, but about the general impressions and experiences I have received in your country ; and one of my reasons for departing from approved models of discussion for young ladies and striking out, as it were, into subject-matter on my own account, is that I think you may find it more or less interesting I have noticed that you are pleased, over here, to bestow rather more attention upon the American Girl than upon any other kind of American that we produce. You have taKen the trouble to form opinions about her — I have heard quantities of them. Her behaviour and her bringing-up, her idioms and her 'accent' — above all her ' accent ' — have made themes for you, and you have been good enough to discuss them — Mr. James, in your midst, correcting and modifying your impressions — with a good deal of animation, for you. I observe that she is almost the only frivolous subject that ever gets into your new^spapers. I have become accustomed to meeting her there, usually at the break- fast-table, dressed in green satin and diamonds. The encounter had quite a shock of novelty for me at first, but that wore off in time ; the green satin and diamonds were so invariable. Being an American girl myself, I do not, naturally, quite see the reason of this, and it is a matter I feel a delicacy about inquiring into, on personal grounds. Privately, I should think- that the number of us that come over here every summer to see the Tower of London and the National Gallery, and visit Strat- ford-upon-Avon, to say nothing of those who marry and stay in England, would have made you familiar with the kind of young AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON i women we arc long ago ; and to nie it is very curious that you sliouUl go on talking about us. I can't say that we object very nnicli, because, Avhile you criticise us c(jnsid('rably as a. class, you are very polite to us individually, and nobody minds being criticised as a noun of multitude. i3ut it has occurred to me that, since so mueli is to be said about the American Girl, it might be p(>rmissiljle for her to say some of it herself. I luive learned that in England yon like to know a great deal about people who are introduced to you — wlio their fathers and mothers are, their grandfathers and grandmothers, and even farther back than that. ^!o I will gratify you at once on this point, so far as I am able. ]\l v fatlier is y\.\\ Joshua r. Wick, of Chicago, [11. — you may have ■en his nanic^ in con- lection with the bak- ing-powder interest in that citv. That is how le made his fortune — ■ n baking-powder ; as he has often said, it is to baking-powder piat we owe everything. He began by putting it up in small [uantities, but it is an article that is so much used in the nited StatvS, and ours Avas such a very good kind, that the ienuuid for it increased like anything; and though we have not pecome so rich as a great many people in America, it is years nice poppa gave Ids joersonal superintendence to the business. ^Ju will excuse my spelling it ' poppa'; I Inive called him that 11 my life, and ' papa ' doesn't S':;em to mean anything to me. B 2 ' THAT IS now HE MADE IIIS FOIiTUXE ' 4 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Lately he has devoted himself to politics ; he is in Congress now, and at the next election momma particularly wishes liim to run for senator. There is a great deal of compliance about poppa, j and I think he will run. I Momma was a Miss Wastgaggle, of Boston, and she was ' I TIIIXK UK WILL ruN ' teaching school in Chicago when poppa met Iier. Her grand- father, who educated her, was a manufacturer of glass eyes. There are Wastgaggles in Boston now, but they spell the name with one ' g,' and lately they have been wanting momma to write hers ' Mrs. AVastwasfle-'Wick ' ; but momma savs that since she never liked the name well enough to give it to any of her children, she is certainly not going to take it again herself. These Wastgngles speak of our great-grandfather as a well- known oculist, and I suppose, in a sense, he was one. pi- \\ ,H'''' «■-. ""^.I ,,.^4 >-'/'/ «l z:^^ ,^,'i7^-^^^ ^ ^^ %^^ y^^^^ 'J.>. i 'she was teaching SCHOOIj in CHICAGO WHEN POPPA MET HER' 6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON My fiitlicr's father lived in England, and was also a manu- facturer, poppa says, always adding, ' in a plain w.'iy ; ' so I sup- pose whatever he made ho made himself. It may have been boots, or und)rellas, or pastry — poppa never states; though I should be disposed to think, from liis taking up the baking- powder idea, that it was pastry. I am sorry that I am not able to give you fuller satisfaction about my antecedents. I know that I must have had more than I have mentioned, but my efforts to discover them — and I have made efforts since I decided to introduce myself to you — have been entirely futile. I am inclined to think that they were not people who achieved any great distinction in life ; but I have never held anvtliinj]f a<^ainst them on that account, for I have no reason to believe that they would not have been distinguished if they could. I cannot think that it has ever been in the nature of the AVicks, or the Wastgnggles eitlier, to let the oppor- tunity for distinction pass through ai y criiiinal negligence on their part. I am perfectly willing to evcuse them on this ground, therefore ; and if I, who am most intimately concerned in the matter, can afford to do this, perhaps it is not unreason- able to expect it of you. In connections we do better. A grand-aunt of some early Wastgaggles was burned as a witch in Salem, Mass. — a thing very few families can point back to, even in England, I should think ; and a second cousin of momma's was the first wife of one of our Presidents. He was a Democratic President, though, and as poppa always votes the Republican ticket, we don't think much of that. Besides, as we are careful to point out whenever we mention the subject, she was in the cemetery years before he was in the White House. And there is Mrs. Portheris, of Half-Moon Street, Hyde Park, who is poppa's aunt by her first marriage. i AN AME'UCAN GIRL IN LONDON 7 "We were all coming at first, poppa, and momma, ant"! I — tlio others are still in scliool — and it had appeared amon^f the ' f^ify ]Vrsonals' of the 'Chicago Tribune' that 'Colonel and ^Mrs. Joshua P. "Wick, accompanied by I\[iss ^Faniie Wick " — I forirot to say that poppa was in the Civil War — ' would have a look at monarchical institutions this summer.' Our newspapers do get hold of things so. But just a week before we were to sail something arose — I think it was a political complication — to pre- vent poppa's going, and inomma is far too much of an invalid to undertake such a journey without him. I must say that both my parents are devoted to me, and when I said I thought I'd prefer going alone to giving up the trip, neither of them opposed it. Momma said she thought I ought to have the experience, because, though I'd been a good deal in society in Chicago, she didn't consider that that in itself was enough. Poppa said that the journey was really nothing nowadays, and he could easily gt't me a letter of introduction to the captain. Besides, in a shipful of two or three hundred there would be sure to be some pleasant people I could get acquainted with on the voyage. .Mrs. Von Stuvdidyl, who lives next door to us, and has been to I'lurope several times, suggested that I should take a maid, and monnna rather liked the idea, but I persuaded herout of it. I couldn't possibly have undertaken the care of a maid. And then we all thought of ]\Irs. Portheris. None of us had ever seen her, and there had been very little correspondence ; in fact, we had not had a letter from her since several years ago, when she wrote a long one to pojipa, some- ' thing about some depressed California mining stock, I believe, which she thought poppa, as her nephew and an American, ought to take oflf her hands before it fell any lower. And I [remember that poppa obliged her: whether as an American or 8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON as lier nopliew I don't know. After that she sent us every year a Christmas card, with an angel or a bunch of forget-me-nots on it, inscribed, ' To my nephew and niece, Josliua Peter and Mary Wick, and all tlieir dear ones.' Her latest offering was lying in the card-basket on the table then, and I am afraid we looked at it with more interest than we had ever done before. The ' dear • I AM AFRAID WE LOOKED AT IT WITH MORE INTEREST THAN WE EVER HAD DONE BEFORE , ) ones ' read so sympathetically that momma said she knew we could depend upon Mrs. Portheris to take me round and make me I enjoy myself, and she wanted to cable that I was coming. But I poppa said No, his aunt must be getting up in years now, and an elderly English lady might easily be frightened into apoplexy by a cablegram. It was a pity there was no time to write, but I must just go and see her immediately, and say that I was the daughter of Joshua P. AVick, of Chicago, and she would be I ^ certain to make me feel at home at once. But, as I said, none | of us knew Mrs. Portheris, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON II I AM not mncli acquainted in New York, so I had only poppa and Mr. Winterliazel to seo nio off. Mr. Winterhazel lives there, and does business in Wall Street, where he operates very successfully, I've been told, for such a young man. We Iiad been the greatest friends and regular correspondents for three or four years — our tastes in literature and art were almost exactly the same, and it was a nuitual pleasure to keep it up — but poppa had never met him before. They were very happy to make each other's acquaintance, though, and became quite inti- . mate at once ; they had heard so much about each other, they aid. We had allowed two days before the steamer sailed, so I that I could make some purchases — New York styles are so dif- ferent from Chicago ones ; and, as poppa said afterwards, it was very fortunate that Mr. Winterhazel was there. Otherwise, I should have been obliged to go round to the stores alone ; for poppa himself was so busy seeing people about political matters that he hadn't the thirtieth part of a second for me, except at meal- times, and then there was almost always somebody there. London is nothina: to New York for confusion and hurrv, and until you get accustomed to it the Elevated is apt to be very trying to your nerves. But Mr. Winterhazel was extremely kind, and gave up his whole time to me ; and as he knew all the best stores, this put me under the greatest obligation to him. After dinner the first evening he took me to hear a gentleman ro AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON who wns h'ctiiriii^ on the London of Charles ])ickens, with a Bteroopticon, flunking tluit, as 1 was going to London, it would pro- bably be of interest to me — and it was. I anticipated your city more than ever afterwards. Poppa was as disappointed as could be that he wasn't able to go with us to the lecture ; but he said tliat politics were politics, and I suppose they are. Next day I sailed from North River Docks, Tier No. 2, a fresh wind blowinur all the harbour into short blue waves, with the sun on them, and poppa and ]Mr. Winterhazel taking oft' their hats and waving their handkerchiefs as long as I could see them. I suppose I started for CJreat ]h'itain v.ith about as many comforts as most people have — poppa and ls\v. Winterhazel had almost filled my state-room with flowers, and I found four pounds of caramels under the lower berth — but I confess, as we steamed out past Staten Island, and I saw the statue of Liberty getting smaller and smaller, and the waves of the Atlantic Ocean getting bigger and bigger, I felt very much by nn'self indeed, and began to depend a good deal upon ]\rrs. Porthcris. As to the caramels, in the next three hours I gave the whole of them to the first stewardess, who was kind enough to oblige me with a lemon. Before leaving home I had promised everybody that I would keep a diary, and most of the time I did ; but I find nothing at all of interest in it about the first three days of the voyage to London. The reason was that I had no opportunity whatever of making observations. But on the morning of the fourth day I was obliged to go on deck. The stewardess said she couldn't put up with it any longer, and I would never recover if I didn't; and I was very glad afterwards that I gave in. She was a real kind-hearted stewardess, I may say, though her manner was a little peremptory. I didn't find as much sociability on deck as I expected. I i A.W AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON II should liiivc thou^'lit everybody would have been lucre or less ac- qnnintod by that time, but, with the exception of a few j^entlemen, people were standin*,' or sittiug muud in the same little knots they came on board in. And yet it was very smooth. 1 was so perfectly deliglited to be well jigain tluit I frit I must talk to souiebody, so I spoke to one of a party of ladies from ]^)ston who 1 thought luight know the "NVastgiigles there. I was very ])olite, and she did not seem at all sea-sick, l)ut I found it (Hllicult to open np a conversation with her. I knew that the JJostonians thouglit a good deal of themselves — all the Wast- gagles do — and her manner somehow made mo think of a story 1 once heard of a Massachusetts milestone, marked '1 m. from J5()ston,' which somebody thought was a wayside tablet with the simple pathetic epitaph, ' I'm from Boston,' on it; and just to enliven her I told her the story. ' Indeed ! ' she said. ' Wi 11, we arc from Boston.' I didn't quite know what to do after that, for the only other lady near me Was English, I knew by her boots. Beside the boots she had grey hair and pink cheeks, and rather sharp grey (ves, and a large old-fashioned muff, and a red cloud. Only an l']nglishwoman would be wearing a muff and a cloud like that in l)ublic — nobody else w^ould dare to do it. She was rather portly, and she sat very firmly and comfortably in her chair with her feet crossed, done up in a big Scotch rug, and being an English- woman I knew that she would not expect anybody to speak to her who had not been introduced. She would probably, I thought, give me a haughty stare, as they do in novels, and say, with cold repression, ' You have the advantage of me, miss ! ' — and then what would my feelings be ? So I made no more ad- vances to anybody, but walked off my high spirits on the hurri- cane-deck, thinking about the exclusiveness of those Bostonians, 12 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON and wondering whether, as a nation, we could be catching it from England. You may imagine my feelings — or rather, as you are probably English, you can't — when the head steward gave me my place at the dinner-table immediately opposite the Bostonians, and between this lady and an unknown gentleman. ' I shall not make a single travelling acquaintance ! ' I said to myself as I sat down — and I must say I was disappointed. I began to realise how greatly we had all unconsciously depended upon my forming nice travelling acquaintances, as people always do in books, to make the trip pleasant, and I thought that in considering an- other voyage I should divorce myself from that idea beforehand. However, I said nothing, of course, and found a certain amount of comfort in my soup. I remember the courses of that dinner very well, and if they were calculated to make interesting literary matter I could write them out. The Bostonians ostentatiously occupied themselves with one another. One of them took up a position several miles behind her spectacles, looked at me through them, and then said something to her neighljour about 'Daisy Miller,' which the neighbour agreed to. I know what they meant now. The gentleman, when he was not attending Lo his dinner, stared at the salt-cellar most of the time, in a blank, abstracted way ; and the English lady, who looked much nicer unshelled than she did on deck, kept her head carefully turned in the other direction, and made occasional remarks to an elderly person next her who was very deaf. If I had not been hungry, I don't know how I should have felt. But I maintained an absolute silence and ato my dinner. Gradually — perhaps because the elderly person was so extremely deaf, and my own behaviour comparatively unaggrcs- AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 13 sive — the lady of England began to assume a less uncomfortable position. A certain repellent air went out of her right shoulder. Presently she sat quite parallel with the table. By the advent of the pudding — it was cabinet pudding — I had become con- scious that she had looked at me casually three times. When the Gorgonzola appeared I refused it. In America ladies cat very little Gorgonzola. ' Don't you liliQ cheese ? ' she stdd, suddenly, a little as if I had offended her. I was so startled that I equivocated some- what. ' No'm, not to day, I think — thank you ! ' I said. The fact is, I never touch it. ' Oh ! ' she responded. ' But then, this is your first ap- ])(>iirance, I suppose ? In that case, you wouldn't like it.' And 1 felt forgiven. She said nothing more until dessert, and then she startled nio again. ' Have you been bad ? ' she inquired. I didn't know quite what to sny, it seemed such an extra- ordinary question, but it flashed upon me that perhaj^s the lady ^ was some kind of missionary, in which case it was my duty to be respectful. So I said that 1 hoped not — that at least I hadn't been told so since I was a very little girl. ' But then,' I said, ' The Episcopalian Prayer-book says we're all miserable sinners, doesn't it ? ' The lady looked at me in astonishment. ' What has the Prayer-book to do with your being ill ? ' she exclaimed. ' Oh, I see ! ' and she laughed very heartily. ' You thought I meant naughty ! Cross-questions and crooked answers ! Mr. Mafferton, you will appreciate this ! ' j\rr. Mafferton was the gentleman whom I have mentioned in con- [nection with the salt-cellars ; and my other neighbour seemed jto know him, which, as they both came from England, did not 14 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON surprise me then, altliough now I should be inclined to consider that the most likely reason of all why they shouldn't be ac- quainted. I didn't see anything so very humorous in it, but the lady explained our misunderstanding to Mr. Maffeilon as if it were the greatest joke imaginable, and she had made it herself. * Really,' she said, ' it's good enough for " Punch ! '" I was unfamiliar with that paper then, and couldn't say ; but now I think it was myself. Mr. Mafferton coloured dreadfully — I omitted to say that he was a youngish gentleman — and listened with a sort of strained smile, which debouched into a hesitating and uncomfortable remark about ' curious differences in idioms.' I thought ho intended it to be polite, and he said it in the most agreeable man's voice I had ever heard ; but I could not imagine what there was to flurry liim so, and I felt quite sorry for him. And he had hardly time to get safely back to the salt-cellar before we all got up. Next morning at breakfast I got on beautifully with the English lady, who hardly talked to the elderly deaf person at all, but was kind enough to be very much interested in what I expected to see in London. ' Your friends will have their hands full,' she remarked, with a sort of kind acerbity, ' if they undertake to show you all that ! ' I thought of poor old Mrs. Portheris, who was probably a martyr to rheumatism and neuralgia, with some compunction. * Oh ! ' I said, ' I shouldn't think of asking them to ; I'll read it all up, and then I can go round beautifully by myself! ' * By yourself!^ she exclaimed. 'You! This is an inde- pendent American young lady — the very person I went espe- cially to the United States to see, and spent a whole season in New York, going everywhere, without coming across a single j AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 15 specimen ! You must excuse my staring at you. But you'll have to get over tliat idea. Your friends will never in the world allow it — I suppose you Imca friends ? ' ' No,' I said ; ' only a relatiou.' The lady laughed. ' Do you intend that for a joke ? ' she askt'd. ' Well, they do mean different things sometimes. But we'll see what the relation will liave to say to it.' ]\rr. ]\rafferton occasionally removed his eyes from the salt- cellar during this meal, and even ventured a remark or two. The remarks were not striking in any way — there was no food fl )r thought in them whatever ; yet they were very agreeable. ^Vllether it was Mr. Mafferton's voice, or his manner, or his ; almost apologetic way of speaking, as if ho knew that he was \ not properly acquainted, and ought not to do it, I don't know, I hut I liked hearing him make them. It was not, however, I until later in the day, when I was sitting on deck talking with \ the lady from England about New York, where she didn't seem to like anything but the air and the melons, that I felt the least bit acquainted with ^\i\ Mafferton. I had found out her name, by the way. She asked me mine, and when I told her she said : ' But you're old enough now to have a Christian name — weren't you christened JNIary ? ' She went on to say that she believed in the good old-fashioned names, like Nancy and Betsy, that couldn't be babified — and I am not sure whether she told me, or it was by intuition, that I learned that hers was Hephzibah. It seems to me noV that it never could have been anything else. But I am quite certain she added that her husband was Hector Torquilin, and that he had been dead fifteen years. 'A dis- tinguished man in his time, my dear, as you would know if you had bean brought up in an English schoolroom.' And just then, while I was wondering what would be the most appropriate thing 1 6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON to say to a lady wlio told you that her husband liad been dead < fifteen years, and was a distinguished man in his time, and ] wishing that I had been broaght up in an English schoolroom, < so that I could be polite about him, Mr. Mafferton came up. J He had one of Mr. AV. D. Ho wells' novels in his hand, and at 1 once we glided into the subject of American literature. I re- ^ member I was surprised to find an Englishman so good-natured < in his admiration of some of our authors, and so willing to con- ' cede an American standard which might be a high one, and yet have nothing to do with Dickens, and so appreciative generally of the conditions which have brought about our ways of thinking and writing. Wo had a most delightful conversation — I had ^ no idea there was so much in Mr. Mafferton — and Mrs. Torquiliu only interrupted once. That was to ask us if either of us had ever read the works of Fenimore Cooper, who was about the \ only author America had ever produced. Neither of us had, and I J said I thought there were some others. ' Well,' she said, ' he < is the only one we ever hear of in England.' But I don't think Mrs. Torquilin was quite correct in this statement, because since < I have been in England I have met three or four people, beside Mr. Mafferton, who knew, or at least had heard of, several ( American writers. Then ]\Irs. Torquilin went to sleep, and when she woke up it was five o'clock, and her maid was just arriving with her tea. Mr. Mafferton asked me if he might get me some, but I said, No, thanks ; I thought I would take a brisk walk instead, if Mrs. Torquilin would excuse me. ' Certainly,' she said ; ' go and take some exercise, both of you. It's much better for young people than tea-drinking. And see here, my dear ! I thought you were very sensible not to dress for dinner last night, like those silly young fools oppo- site. Silly young fools I call them. Now, take my advice, and AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 17 flon't let them persuade you to do it. Au Atlantic steamer is ^0 place for bare arms. Now run away, and have your walk, and Mr. Mafferton will see that you're not blown overboard.' Mr. Mafferton hesitated a moment. ' Are you quite sure, said, ' that you wouldn't prefer the tea ? ' ' Oh yes, sir ! ' I said; 'we always have tea at half-past six 1 home, and I don't care about it so early as tliis. I'd much [atlier walk. But don't trouble to come with me if i\o\i would like some tea.' ' I'll come,' he said, ' if you won't call me " sir." ' Here lie •owned a little and coloured. ' It makes one feel seventv vou now. May I ask why you do it ? ' I explained that in Chicago it was considered polite to say ina'am ' or ' sir ' to a lady or gentleman of any age with whom oil did not happen to be very well acquainted, and I had heard i all my life ; still, if he objected to it, I would not use it in his a?:e. He said he thought he did object to it— from a lady ; it had tlier associations in his ears. 80 I stopped calling Mr. Mafferton 'sir'; and since then, Kccpt to very old gentlemen, I have got out of the way of using le expression. I asked him if there was anything else that ruck him as odd in my conversation kindly to tell me, as of )urse I did not wish to be an unnecessary shock to my relation I Half-Moon Street. He did not say he w^ould, but we seemed » get on together even more agreeably after that. Mr. Mafferton appeared to know nobody on board but Mrs. orquilin ; and I made acquaintance with hardly anybody else, > that we naturally saw a good deal of each other, usually in afternoons, walking up and down the deck. He lent me all is books, and I lent him all mine, and we exchanged opinions on c i8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON a great variety of subjects. When we argued, he was always very polite and considerate ; but I noticed one curious thing about him — I never could bring him round to my point of view. He did not seem to see the necessity of coming, although I often „ _ ^^^ *WE SEEMED TO GET ON TOGETHER EVEN MORE AGREEABLY AFTER THAT' went round to his. This was a new experience to me in arguinj:^ with a gentleman. And he always talked very impersonally. At first this struck me as a little cold and uninterested, but afterwards I liked it, It was like drinking a very nice kind of AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 19 pure cold water — after the different Ihivours of personality I had always been accustomed to. Mr. jNIafferton only made one exception to this rule that I remember, and that was the after- noon before we landed. Then he told me particularly about his father and mother, and their tastes and occupations, also the names and ages of his brothers and sisters, and their tastes and occupations, and where he lived. But I cannot say I found him as interesting that afternoon as usual. I need not describe the bustle and confusion of landinnf at Liverpool Docks in the middle of a wet April afternoon. ]\rrs. Torquilin had told me at breakfast not on any account to let my relations take me away before she had given me her address ; Init when the time came I guess — if you will allow me — she nuist have forgotten, because the last time I saw her she was standing under a very big umbrella, which the maid held over lier, a good deal excited, and giving a great many orders about her luggage to a nervous-looking man in livery. I easily identified mine, and got off by train for London without any trouble to speak of. AVe arrived rather late, though, ^and it was still pouring. ' What has become of your people ? ' asked somebody at my elbow. I turned and saw Mr. Mafferton, who must have come flown by the same train. ' I didn't expect my relation to meet me,' I said ; 'she doesn't expect me ! ' ' Oh ! ' said Mr. Mafferton ; ' you did not write to her before f ou sailed ? ' ' No,' I said. ' There wasn't time.' ' Upon ray word! ' said Mr. Mafferton. Then, as I suppose t looked rather surprised, he added, hastily : ' I only mean that t seems so — so uncommonly extraordinary, you know ! But I c 2 30 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON would advise you, in that case, to give tlie bulk of your luggage into the hands of the forwarding agents, '.vith iustructious to send it early to-morrow to your friend's address. It is all you can do to- night,' said Mr. ^Slatterton, ' really. Of course, you will go there imme- diately yourself.' 'No,' I responded, firmly; 'I think not, ]\[r. ]\Iatrerton. My rela- tion is very elderly, and probably in bad health. For all 1 know, she may have gone to bed. I must not dis- ' WHAT PUZZLED ME WAS, WHY HE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ANOTHER CAB ' turb her so late. All the people I have ever known have stayed at the " Metropole " in London. I will go to the Metropolefor to-night, and have my things sent there. To-morrow I will go AN AMERICAN GlRL IN LONDON 21 untl see my relation, and if she asks me to visit her I can easily tclt'phono up for them. Thank you very much.' Mr. Mafferton looked as sober as possible, if not a little nnnoyed. Then ho went and got the agent's young man, and asked me to point out my things to him, which I did, and got receipts. Then he told a porter to call a cab, and put my smaller valii^es into it. ' I will put you in,' he said, and he gave me his ana and his umbrella, through the wettest rain I have ever experienced, to the hansom. I thanked him again very cordially, and before he said good-bye ho very kindly gave me his card and address, and begged me to let him know if there was any- tliing he could do for me. Then I rattled away through the blurred lights of your inter- minable twisted streets to the ^letropole, foncying I saw West- minster Abbey or 8fc. Paul's through the rain at every turn. When we stopped at last before the hotel, another hansom beliind us stopped too, and though I am sure he didn't intend me to, I saw quite plainly through the glass — Mr. MafTerton. It A\ as extremely kind of him to wish to be of assistance to a lady alone, especially in such weather, and I could easily under- stand his desire to see me to my hotel ; but what puzzled me wa*^, why he should have taken another cab ! And all nio'ht long I dreamed of !Mrs. Portheris. 23 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON III I ONCE visited the Wastgagles iu Boston with momma. It was a visit of condoUuico, just after the demise of a grandmother of tlieirs. I was going to say, that never since that occasion had I experienced anytliing Hke the solemnity of my breakfast at the Mutropole the morning after I arrived. As a sad-faced waiter with mutton-cliop whiskers marshalled me across the room to an empty little white-and-silvery table beside one of the big windows, I felt, for the first time in my life, that I was being made imposing, and I objected to the feeling. The place itself did not impress me particularly — in America we are accustomed to gorgeousness in our hotels, and the mirrors and the gilding of the Metropole rather made me feel at home than otherwise ; but it was the demeanour of everything that weighed upon me. My very chair lived up to its own standard of decorum ; and the table seemed laid upon a pattern of propriety that it would never willingly depart from. There was an all-pervading sense of order in the air. I couldn't make out exactly where it came from, but it was there, and it was fearful. The waiters spoke to each other in low tones, as if something of deep and serious importance were going on ; and when I told one of them what I should like from the bill-of-fare, he bent down his ear and received my order as if it had been confidential State business I was asking him to undertake. When he came back, carrying the tray in front of him, it was almost processional. And in the AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 23 interval, when I turned round to look out of tlie window, and saw another of those respectfully-subdued waiters standin^ ' The American malyel goes oufc^W^nesdays an' Satuhdays, I fancy,' the young woman replied, * but I'm not suah ; it would be saifah to ask the clahk ! ' She spoke quite distinctly, so that the English ladies must have heard her, and I am afraid they saw in my glance as I went upstairs that I had intended to correct their mistake. AN AMI:RICAN girl L\ LONDON 25 I started to soo ^Ira. J'orthL'ri.s at eleven o'clock oil tlio morning of the 9th of April — a lovely day, a day which aiijj^ured hrjf^'htly and hopefully. I waited carefully till eleven, thinking by that time my relation would have had her breakfast in bed and been dressed, and perhaps havc^ been helped downstairs to her own particular sunny window, where I thought I might see her faded, placid, sweet old face looking up from her knitling and out into the busy street. Words have such an inspiring effect upon the imagination. All this had emanated from tho ' dear ones,' and I felt confident and pleased and happy before- hand to bo a dear one. I wore one of my plainest walking- dresses — I love simplicity in dress — so as to mitigate the shock to my relation as far as I could ; but it was a New York one, and it gave me a great deal of moral support. It maybe weak- minded in me, but I simply couldn't have gone to see my rela- tion in a hat and gloves that didn't match. Clothes and courage have so much to do with each other. The porter said that I had better take 'a 'ansom,' or if I walked to Charing Cross I could get ' a 'Ammersmith 'bus ' which would take me to Half-Moon Street, Piccadilly. I asked him if there were any street-cars running that way. ' D'ye mean growlers, miss ? ' lie said. ' I can get ye a growler in 'arf a minute.' But I didn't know what he meant, and I didn't like the sound of it. A * growler ' was probably not at all a > proper thing for a young lady to ride in ; and I was determined I to be considerate of the feelings of my relation. I saw ladies |in hansoms, but I had never been in one at home, and they -|looked very tiltuppy. Also, they went altogether too fast, and las it was a slippery day the horses attached to them sat down , and rested a great deal oftener than I thought I should like. |A.nd when the animals were not poor old creatures that wefe 26 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON obliged to sit down in this precipitate way, tliey danced and pranced in a manner which did not inspire me with confidence. In America our cab-horses know themselves to be cab-horses, and behave accordingly — they have none of the national theories about equality whatever ; but the London quadrupeds might be the greatest Democrats going from the airs they put on. And I saw no street-cars anywhere. So I decided upon the 'Ammer- smith 'bus, and the porter pointed out the direction of Charing Cross. It seems to me now that I was what you would call ' uncom- monly' stupid about it, but I hadn't gone very far before I realised that I did not quite know what Charing Cross was. I had come, you see, from a city where the streets are mostly numbered, and run pretty much in rows. The more I thought about it, the less it seemed to mean anything. So I asked a large policeman — the largest and straightest policeman, with the reddest face I had ever seen : Mr. Officer,' I said, knowing your fondness for titles in this country, ' what is Charing Cross ? ' He smiled very kindly. ' Wy, miss,' he said, ' there's Char- ing Cross Station, and tl ert-'s Charing Cross 'Otel, and there's Charing Cross. Wot were you wanting pertickeler ? ' ' Charing Cross ! ' said I. ' There it lies, in front of you ! ' the policeman said, waving his arm so as to take in the whole of Trafalgar Square. * It ain't possible for you to miss it. Miss. And as three other people were waiting to ask him something else, I thought I ought not to occupy his attention any further. I kept straight on, in and out among the crowd, comparing it in my mind with a New York or Chicago crowd. I found a great many more kinds of people in it than there would be at home. AN AMERICAN GIP.L IN LONDON 27 You are remarkably different in this country. We are a good deal the same. I was not at all prepared then to make a com- parison of averages, but I noticed that life seemed to mean some- thing more serious for most of the people I met than it does with us. Hardly anybody was laughing, and very few people were making unseemly haste about their business. There was no eagerness and no enthusiasm. Neither was there any hustling. In a crowd like that in Chicago everybody would have hustled, and nobody would have minded it. ' Where is Charing Cross ? ' I asked one of the flower- women sitting by the big iron entrances to the station. ^ llitjht 'ere, miss, ware you be a-standin' ! Buy a flower, miss ? Only a penny ! an' lovely they are ! Do buy one, laidy ! ' It was dreadfully pathetic, the way she said it, and she had frightful holes in her shawl, and no hat or bonnet on. I had never seen a woman selling things out of doors with nothing on her head before, and it hurt me somehow. But I couldn't possibly have bought her flowers — they were too much like her. Ho I gave her a sixpence, and asked her where I could find an 'Ammersmith 'bus. She thanked me so volubly that I couldn't possibly under- stand her, but I made out that if I stayed where I was an 'Annnersmith 'bus would presently arrive. She went on asking me to buy flowers though, so I walked a little farther off". I waited a long time, and not a single 'bus appeared with 'Ammer- smith on it. Finally, I asked another policeman. ' There ! ' he said, as one of the great lumbering concerns rolled up — ' that's one of 'em now ! You'll get it ! ' I didn't like to dispute with an officer of the law, but I had seen plenty of that particular red variety of 'bus go past, and to be quite certain I said : ' But isn't that a Hammersmith one ? ' The policeman looked quite cross. * Well, isn't that what you're a-askin' for ? 'Ammersmith a8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON an' 'Ammersmith — it's all the saime, depenclin' on 'ow you per- nounces it. Some people calls it 'Ammersmith, an' some people calls it 'Ammersmith ! ' and he turned a broad and indignant back upon me. I flew for the 'bus, and the conductor, in a friendly way, helped me on by my elbow. I did not think, before, that anything could wobble like an Atlantic steamer, but I experienced nothing more trying coming over than that Hammersmith 'bus. And there were no straps from the roof to hold on by — nothing but a very high and in- convenient handrail ; and the vehicle seemed quite full of stout old gentlemen with white whiskers, who looked deeply annoyed when I upset their umbrellas and unintentionally plunged upon their feet. ' More room houtside, miss ! ' the conductor said — which I considered impertinent, thinking that he meant in the road. ' Is there any room on top ? ' I asked him, because I had walked on so many of the old gentlemen's feet that I felt uncom- fortable about it. ' Yes, miss ; that's wot I'm a-sayin' — lots o' room lioutsiCiQ ! ' So I took advantage of a lame man's getting off to mount the spiral staircase at the back of the 'bus and take a seat on top. It is a pity, isn't it, that Noah didn't think of an outside spiral staircase like that to Ids ark. He might have accommodated so many more of the animals, providing them, of course, with oilskin covers to keep off the wet, as you do. But even coming from a bran new and irreverent country, where nobody thinks of consulting the Old Testament for models of public conveyances, anybody can see that in many respects you have improved immensely upon Noah. It was lovely up there — exactly like coming on deck after being in a stuffy little cabin in the steamer — a good deal of motion, but lots of fresh air. I was a little nervous at first, but as nobody fell off the tops of any of the other 'buses, I concluded I AN AMERICAN CTRL IN LONDON 29 that it was not a thing you were expected to do, and presently forgot all about it looking at the people swarming below me. My position made me feel immeasurably superior — at such a swinging height above them all — and I found myself speculating jibout them and criticising them, as I never should have done walking. I had never ridden on the top of anything before ; it gave me an entirely new revelation of my fellow-creatures — if your monarchical feelings will allow that expression from a Republican. I must say I liked it — looking down upon people i who were travelling in the same direction as I was, only on a level below. I began to understand the agreeableness of class distinctions, and I wondered whether the arrangement of seats on the tops of the 'buses was not, probably, a material result of aristocratic prejudices. Oh, I liked it through and through, that first ride on a London 'bus ! To know just how I liked it, and why, and how and why we all like it from the other side of the Atlantic, you must be born and brought up, as most of us have been, in a city twenty-five or fifty years old, where the houses are all made of clean white or red brick, with clean green lawns and geranium beds and painted iron fences ; where rows of nice new maple- trees are planted in the clean-s- /ed boulevards, and fresh- planed wooden sidewalks run straight for a mile or two at a time, and all the city blocks stand in their proper right angles — which are among our advantages, I have no doubt; but our advantages have a way of making your disadvantages more in- teresting. Having been monarchic cs all your lives, however, : you can't possibly understand what it is to have been brought up in fresh paint. I ought not to expect it of you. If you '■ could, though, I should find it easier to tell you, according to my experience, why we are all bo devoted to London. 30 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON There was the smell, to begin with. I write ' there Wcis/ because I regret to say that during the past few months I have become accustomed to it, and for me that smell is done up in a past tense for ever ; so that I can quite understand a Londoner not believing in it. The Hammersmith 'bus was in the Strand when I first became conscious of it, and I noticed afterwards that it was always more pro- nounced down there, in the heart of the City, than in Ken- sington, for in- stance. It was no special odour or collection of odours that could be dis- tinguished — it was rather an abstract smell — and yet it gave a kind of solidity and nutri- ment to the air, and made you feel as if your lungs digested it. There was com- fort and support and satisfaction in that smell, and I often vainly try to smell it again. We find the irregularity of London so gratifying, too. The way the streets turn and twist and jostle each other, and lead up into nothing, and turn around and come back again, and 'WHERE SMALL BOYS GO ROUND ON ONE ROLLER SKATE ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 3 1 assume aliases, and break out iuto circuses and stray into queer, dark courts, where small boys go round on one roller skate, or little green churchyards only a few yards from the cabs and the crowd, where there is nobody but the dead people, who have grown tired of it all. From the top of the Hammersmith 'bus, as it went through the Strand that morning, I saw funny little openings that made me long to get down and look into them ; but I had my relation to think of, so I didn't. Then there is the well-settled, well-founded look of every- '^ing, as if it had all come ages ago, and meant to stay for ever, and just go on the way it had before. We like that — the security and the permanence of it, which seems to be in souio way connected with the big policemen, and the orderly crowd, and ' Keep to the Left ' on the signboards, and the British coat of arms over so many of the shops. I thought that morning that those shops were probably the property of the Crown, but I was very soon corrected about that. At home I am afraid we fluctuate considerably, especially in connection with cyclones and railway interests — we are here to-day, and there is no tell- ing where we shall be to-morrow. So the abiding kind of city gives us a comfortable feeling of confidence. It was not very long before even I, on the top of the Hammersmith 'bus, felt that I was riding an Institution, and no matter to what extent it wobbled it might be relied upon not to come down. jj. I don't know whether you will like our admiring you on account of your griminess, but we do. At home we are so j monotonously clean, architecturally, that we can't make any 1 aesthetic pretensions whatever. There is nothing artistic about white brick. It is clean and neat and sanitary, but you get tired of looking at it, especially when it is made up in patterns with red brick mixed in. And since you must be dirty, it may 32 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON gratify you to know that you are very soothing to Transatlantic nerves suffering from patterns like that. But you are also mis- leading. ' I suppose,' I said to a workman in front of me as we entered Fleet Street, ' that is some old palace ? Do you know the date of it ? ' ' No, miss,' he answered, ' that ain't no palace. Them's the new Law Courts, only built the last ten year ! ' The new Law Courts ! ' The Strand ! ' ' Fleet Street ! ' ' Ludgate Hill ! ' ' Cheap- side ! ' and I was actually in those famous places, riding through them on a 'bus, part of their multitude. The very names on the street corners held fascination enough, and each of them gave me the separate little thrill of the altogether unexpected. I had unconsciously believed that all these names were part of the vanished past I had connected them with, forgetting that in London names endure. But I began to feel that I ought to be arriving. 'Conductor,' I said, as he passed, 'stop the 'bus, and let me get down at IIalf-]\roon Street, Piccadilly.' ' We're goin' strait awai from it, miss ; you get that red 'bus standin' over there — that'll taike you ! ' So I went all the way back again, and on to my relation's, on the top of the red 'bus, not at all regretting my mistake. But it made it almost twelve o'clock when I rang the bell — Mrs. Portheris's bell — at the door of her house in Half-Moon Street, Piccadilly AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 33 IV I.^RO^r llic outside I didn't think much of ^Irs. rorfheris's lioiise. It was very tall, and very plain, and very narrow, and quite expressionless, except that it wore a sort of dirty brown frown. Like its neighbours, it had a well in front of it, and steps leading down into the well, and an iron fence round the steps, and a brass bell-handle lettered ' Tradesmen.' Like its neighbours, too, it wore boxes of spotty black greenery on the window-sills — in fact, it was very like its neighbours, except that it had one or two solemn little black balconies that looked as if nobody ever sat in them running across the face of it, and a tall, shallow porch, with two or three extremely white stone steps before the front door. IIalf-]\[oon Street, to me, looked like a family of houses — a family differing in heights and complexions and the colour of its hair, but sharing all the characteristics of a family — of an old family. A person draws a great many conclusions from the outside of a house, and my conclusion from the outside of my relation's house was that sl.e couldn't be very well off to be obliged to live in such a plain and gloomy locality, with ' Tradesmen ' on the ground-floor and I hoped they were not any noisy kind of tradesmen, such aa shoemakers or carpenters, who would disturb her early in the morning. The clean-scrubbed stone steps reflected very favourably, I thought, upon Mrs. Portheris, and gave the aoQse, in spite of its grimy, old-fashioned, cramped appearance, ■ 34 AN AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON •from the outside I didn't think much of MRS. PORTHERIS'S HOUSE' AN AMERICAN GIRT. IN LONDON 35 a look of I'cspi'ctability which redeemed it. But I did not see at any window, beliind the spotty evergreens, the sweet, sad face of my relation, thougli there were a hand-organ and a monkey and a German band all operating within twenty yards of the house. I rang the bell. The door opened a great deal more quickly than you might imagine from the time I am taking to tell about it, and I was confronted by my first surprise in London. It was a man — a neat, smooth, pale, round-faced man in livery, rather fat and very sad. It was also Mrs. Portheris's interior. This was very dark and very quiet, but what light there was fell richly, through a square, stained- glass window at the end of the hall, upon the red and blue of some old china above a door, and a collection of Indian spears, and a twisting old oak staircase that glowed with colour. j\lrs. Portheris's exterior had prepared me for som.ething different. I did not know then that in London everything is a matter of the inside — I had not seen a Duchess living crowded up to her ears with other people's windows. With us the outside counts so tremendously. An American duchess, if you can imagine such a person, would consider it only due to the fitness of things that she should have an imposing front yard, and at least room enough at the back for the clothes-lines. But this has nothing to do with Half-Moon Street. '^ * Does Mrs. Portheris live here ? ' I asked, thinking it was just possible she might have moved. ' Yes, miss,' said the footman, with a subdued note of inter- rogation. I felt relieved. ' Is she — is she well ? ' I inquired. * Quiie well, miss,' he replied, with the note of interrogation a little more obvioi^g. 36 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON * I should like to see her. Is she in ?' ' I'll h'inqiiire, miss. 'Oo shall I sai, miss ? * I thought I would prepare my relation gradually, ' A lady from Chicago,' said I. * Very well, miss. Will you walk upstairs, miss ? ' In America drawing-rooms are on the ground-floor. I thought he wanted to usher me into Mrs. Portheris's b3droom. ' No, sir,' I said ; ' I'll wait here.' Then I thought of Mr. Mafferton, and of what he had said about saying ' sir ' to people, and my sensations w^ere awful. I have never done it once since. The footman reappeared in a few minutes with a troubled and apologetic countenance. ' Mrs. Portheris says as she doesn't want any think, miss ! I told her as I didn't understand you were disposin' of anythink ; but that was 'er message, miss.' I couldn't help laughing — it was so very funny to think of my being taken for a lady-pedlar in the house of my relation, ' I'm very glad she's in,' I said. ' That is quite a mistake ! Tell her it's Miss Mamie Wick, daughter of Colonel Joshua P. Wick, of Chicago ; but if she's lying down, or anything, I can drop in again.' Ho was away so long that I began to wonder if my relation suspected me of dynamite in any form, and he came back look- ing more anxious than ever. ' Mrs. Portheris says she's very sorry, miss, and will you please to walk up ? * * Certainly,' I said, ' but I hope I won't be disturbing her ! ' And I walked up. It was a big square room, with a big square piano in it, and long lace curtains, and two or three gilt-framed mirrors, and a great many old-fashioned ornaments under glass cases, and a tinkling glass chandelier in the middle. There were several AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 37 oll-painfcings on tlie walls — low-necked portraits juul landscapes, principally dark-green and black and yellow, with cows, and quantities of lovely china. 'J'lie furniture was red brocade, with spindly legs, and there was a tall palm in a pot, which had nothing to do with the rest of the room, by itself in a corner. I remembered these things afterwards. At the tinu* I noticed chiefly two young persons with the pinkest cheeks I ever saw, \ ' THEY SAT UP VERY NICELY INDEED ' out of a picture-book, sitting near a window. They wTre dressed exactly alike, and their hair hung down their backs to their waists, although thej^ mnst have been seventeen ; and they sat up very nicely indeed on two of the red chairs, one occupied .with worsted work, and the other apparently reading aloud to her, though she stopped when I came in. I have seen something since at Madame Tussand's — but I daresay you have often noticed 3S ylX AM/:/^/CAX CJRT. IX I.OXDOX it yourself. And sl:iii(liii<^ in tlic iniddlo of tlie n)oni, Avitli licr hand on ji centro-tablo, was ^Irs. Portlicris. ^ly first impression was that she had been standing therefor tho hisi/ hour in that inimovablo way, with exactly that remark- able expression; and it struck me that she could goon standing for the next without altering it, quite comfortably — she seemed to be so solidly placed there, with her hand upon the table. Though I wouldn't call ^frs. Portheris stout, she was massive — rather, of an impressive build. Her skirt fell in a commanding way from lier waist, though it liitched up a little in front, which spoiled tho effect. SIk^ had broad squ.'iro shoulders, and a lace collar, and a cap with pink ribbons in it, and grey hair smooth on each side of her face, and large well-cut features, and the ex- pression I spoke of. I've seen the expression since among the l^'gyptian antiquities in tho liritish Museum, but I am unable to tlescribe it. ' Armed neutrality ' is the only phrase that occurs to me in connection with it, and that by no means does it justice. For there was curiosity in it, as well as hostility and reserve — but I won't try. And she kept her hand — it was her right hand — upon tho table. 'Miss TTif/i-,' she said, bowing, and dwelling upon the name with strong doubt. ' I believe I have a connection of that name in America. Is your father's name Joshua Vdev ? ' ' Yes, Mrs. Portheris,' I replied ; ' and he says he is your nephew. I've just come. How do you do?' I said this be- cause it was the only thing the situation seemed to warrant me saying. ' Oh, I am quite in my usual health, thank you ! INfy nephew by marriage — a former marriage — a very distant con- nection.' 'Three thousand five hundred miles,' said Ij 'he lives in AX AMEIUCAX GIRL L\ LOXDON 39 riiicML,^!). Voii liavc iK'Vt'i' Ix'fii over lo set' us, Mrs. PortluM'is.' At this ))oiii( I Wiilki'd across to one (tf the s|)iii(lly red cliairs and Silt (l(i\vii. I tlidiiLilit IIu'Ii that slic had iorj^'ottcii to ask jiu' ; but even now, whi-n I know shr hadn't, i am not at till ^i I ->>' "^^ i*"T!i ^.v. ■-^i^«5,.; I -.1.'; ■'.;■>- -t - g^ ■^-" ■.^jfyff^^ >4^ N^ ''••*«*?! 'the old lady GATIIEnKI) IIKlibKLl' IT .\NI> LouKKD AT ME ' sorry I sat down. I find it is possible to stand up too much in this countiy. ^ The old lady gathered herself up and looked at me. ' Where are your Aither and mother ? ' she said. ' 40 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ' In Chicago, Mrs. Portheris. All very well, thank you ! 1 liatl a cable from them this morning, before 1 left the hotel. Kind legarcls to you.' Mrs. Portheris looked at me in absolute silence. Then she deliberately arranged lier back draperies and sat down too — not in any amiable way, but as if the situation must be faced. ' Margaret and Isabel,' she said to the two young pink per- sons, ' go to your rooms, dears ! ' And she waited till the damsels, each with a little shy smile and blush, gathered up their effects and went, before she continued the conversation. As they left the room I observed that they wore short dresses, buttoned down the b.xck. It be I scannecl that day at tlio Metropok\ It suemfd that I could be taken all over London, at prices varying from one ' g.' to three ' gs. ' per week, although the surprising cheapness of this did not strike nio nntil I liad laboriously * calculated in dollars and cents the exact value of a ' g.' I know now that it is a term of English currency exclusively employed in Bond Street, Piccadilly, llegent and Oxford Streets — they never give you a price there in any other. And the phrases descriptive of the various homes which were awaiting me were so beautiful. 'Excellent meat breakfast,' ' a liberal rind chai-niingly-relined home,' ' a mother's devoted super- vision,' ' fresh young society,' ' fashionably situated and ele- gantly furnished,' 'just vacated by a clergyman,' * foreign huij^uajyes understood ' — whicli would doubtless include American — ' a lofty standard of culture in this establishment.' I wondered if they kept it under glass. I was struck with the luunber of people who appeared in print with ' offerings ' of a domiciliary nature. ' A widow lady of cheerful temperament nd artistic tastes offers ' ' The daughter of a late Civil [ Servant with a larger house than she requires offers ' This uist have been a reference put in to excite sympathy, other- , ise, what was the use of advertising the gentleman after he was , |t';i(l ? Even from the sympathetic point of view, I think it was ^^ 1^ mistake, for who would care to go and settle in a house the ihiniite the crape was off the door? Nobody. \ Not only oriirinal advertisements of the kind I was looking r, but original advertisements of kinds I wasn't looking for, j.Q-~.])oaled to my interest and took up my time that afternoon. ,^^^'y'()uld any one feel disposed to lend an actress five pounds ?^ V 8l'^''"P0^^^y ^^ome wanted, with a family of quiet habits, in a le so AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON liealdifiil neiglibourliootl, who can give best references, for a Persian cat.' * An elderly country rector and his wife, in town for a month's holiday, would be glad of a little pleasant society.' ' A young subaltern, of excellent family, in unfortunate circum- stances, implores the loan of a hundred pounds to save liim from ruin. Address, care of his solicitors.' 'A young gentleman, luindsome, an orphan, of good education and agreeable address, wishes to meet with elderly couple with means (inherited) wl\o would adopt liim. AVould make himself pleasant in the house. Church of J']nghuid preferred, but no serious objection to Non- conformists.' We have nothing like this in America. It was a revelation to me — a most private and intimate revelation of a social body that I had always been told no outsider could look into wiLiiout the very best introductions. Of course, there was the veil of * A. B.' and ' Lurline,' and the solicitors' address, but that seemed as thin and easily torn as the ' Morning Post,' and much more transparent, showing all the struggling mass, with its hands outstretched, on the other side. And yet I have heard Englisli psople say how ' personal ' our newspapers are ! My choice was narrowed considerably by so many of the addresses being other places than London, which I thought very peculiar in a London newspaper. Having come to see London, I did not want to live in Putney, or Brixton, or Chelsea, or Maida Vale. I supposed vaguely that there must be; cathedrals or Roman remains, or attractions of some sort, in these places, or they would not be advertised in London ; but for the time being, at any rate, I intended to content myself with the capital. So I picked out two or three places near the British Museum — I should be sure, I thought, to want to ] spend a great deal of time there — and went to sec about them, f AN AMERICAN CIRL IN LONDON 51 They were as much the sanio as the advert Isoineuts were tlifFerent, especially from the outhiJe. From the outside they ■were exactly alike — so much so that I felt, after I had seen them all, that if another boarder in the same row chose to approach me on any occasion, and say that she was me, I should bo entirely unable to contradict her. This in itself was pn^judicial. In America, if there is one thinj:^ we are particular about, it is our identity. Without our identities we are in a manner nowhere. I did not feel disposed to run the risk of losing mine the minute I arrived in England, especially as I knew that it is a thing Americans who stay here for any length of time are extremely apt to do. Nevertheless, I rang the three door-bells I left the Metropole with the intention of ringing ; and there were some minor differences inside, although my pen insists upon record- ing the similarities instead. I spent the same length of time upon the doorstep, for instance, before the same tumbled and apologetic-looking servant girl appeared, wiping her hands upon her apron, and let me into the same little dark hall, with the Eanie interminable stairs twisting over themselves out of it, and the smell of the same dinner accompanying us all the way up. To be entirely just, it was a wholesome dinner, but there was so much of it in the air that I very soon felt as if I was dining unwarrantably, and ought to pay for it. In every case the stair- carpet went up two flights, and after that there was oilcloth, r:ither forgetful as to its original pattern, and much frayed as to Its edges — and after that, nothing. Always pails and brushes on the landings — what there is about pails and brushes that should make them such a distinctive feature of boarding-house landings I don't know, but they are. Not a single elevator in all three. I asked the servant-girl in the first place, about half-way up the fourth flight, if there was no elevator? 'No, indeed, miss,' she saidj i 1 2 53 AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON * I wishes tliere was ! But tlieiii's things you won't find but wry seldom 'ere. WoVo 'ad Anioricau hidics 'ero before, and they alius askd for 'em, but they soon llnds out they ain't to bo 'ad, miss.' Now, liow did slio know I was an 'American lady'? I didn't really mind about the elevator, but this I found annoy- ing, in spite of my desire to preserve my identity. In the course of conversation with this young woman, I dis- covered that it was not my own possibly prospective dinner that I smelt on the stairs. I asked about the hour for meals. ' Aou, we never gives meals, miss ! ' she said. ' It's only them boardin' 'aouses as gives meals in ! Llrs. Jones, she only lets apartments. But there's a very nice restirong in Tottinim Court lload, quite convenient, an' your breakfast, miss, you could 'ave cooked 'ere, but, of course, it would be liextra, miss.* Then I remembered all I had read about people in I^ondon living in ' lodgings,' and having their tea and sugar and butter and eggs consumed unrighteously by the landlady, who was always represented as a buxom person in calico, with a smut on her face, and her arms akimbo, and an awful hypocrite. For a minute I thought of trying it, for the novelty of the experience, but the loneliness of it made me abandon the idea. I could not possibly content myself with the society of a coal-scuttle and two candlesticks, and the alternative of going round sightseeing by myself. Nor could I in the least tell whether Mrs. Jones was agreeable, or whether I could expect her to come up and visit with me sometimes in the evenings ; besides, if she always wore smuts and had her arms akimbo, I shouldn't care about asking her. In America a landlady might as likely as not be a member of a Browning Society, and give * evenings,' but that kind of landlady seems indigenous to the United States. And /7iV AMI:RICAN girl IX LONDON 53 aftor Mrs. T'ortlioris, 1 felt that I requiivil the coinpuuionsliip of something' liinnan. In the otlier two places I saw the landladies themselves in tlieir respective drawing-rooms on the second floor. One of the drawing-rooms was ' drapi'd ' in a way that was quite painfully a3sthetic, considering the j^ancity of the draperies: The flower-pots were draped, and the lamps; there were draperies round the piano-legs, and round the clock; and where there were not draperies there were bows, all of the Fanie scanty description. The only thing that had not made an efloif to clothe itself in the room was the poker, and by contrast it looked very nude. There were some Japanese ideas around the room, principally a paper umbrella ; and a big pjiinted palm-leaf '[WW from India made an incident in one corner. I thought, even before I saw the landlady, that it would be necessary to live up to a liigh standard of starvation in tluit house, and she confirmed the impression. She was a Miss Hippy, a short, stoutish person, with very smooth hair, thin b'ps, and a nose like an angle of the Pyramids, preternaturally neat in her appear- ance, with a long gold watch-chain round her neck. She came into the room in a way that expressed reduced circumstances land a protest ag.'iinst being obliged to do it. I feel that tin- particular variety of smile she gave me with her ' Good morning ! ' — although it was after 4 r.M. — was one she kept for the use of boarders only, and her whole manner was an interrogation. AVhen she said, 'Is it for yourself ? ' in answer to my question about rooms, I felt tliat I was undergoing a cross-examination, the result of which Miss Hippy was men- tallv tabulating. I ' We ImvG a few rooms,' said Miss Hippy, ' certainly.' Then ehe cast her eyes upon the floor, and twisted her fingers up in 54 Ai^ AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON her watcli-clifiin, as if in iloubfc. ' Sball you be long in London ? ' I said I couldn't tell exactly. ' Have you — are you a professional of any bind ?' inquired Miss Hippy. ' Not tliat I object to professional ladies — they are often very pleasant. ^Madame Solfreno resided here for several weeks while she was retrenching ; but ]\Iadame Solfreno was, of course, more or less an exceptional woman. She did not care — at least, while she was retrenching — for the society of other professionals, and she said that was the great advantage of my house — none of them ever would come here. Still, as I say, I have no personal objection to professionals. In fact, we have b.ad head-ladies here ; and real ladies, I must say, I liave gene- rally found them. Although hands, of course, I would not take ! ' I said I was not a professional. 'Oh!' said ]\riss Hippy, pitiably baflled. ' Then, perhaps, you are not a — a youiirj lady. That is, of course, one can see you are that ; but you are — you are married, perhaps ? ' ' I am not married, madame,' I said. ' Have you any rooms to let ? ' Miss Hippy rose, ponderingly. ' I might as well show you what we /i((rt',' she said. 'I think,' I replied, 'that you might as well. Otherwise I will not detain you any longer.' At which, curiously enougli, all hesitation vanished from Miss Hippy's manner, and she showed me all her rooms, and expatiated upon all their advan- tages with a single eye to persuading me to occupy one of them. So comprehensively voluble was she, indeed, and so impene- trably did she fill up the door with her broad person when we came down again, that I found no loophole of escape anywhere, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 55 and was obliged to descend to equivocal measures. ' Have you any rooms, Miss Hippy,' I inquired, ' on the ground floor?' ' That,' returned Miss Hippy, as if I had put her the only possible question that she was not prepared for, ' I have not. A gentleman from the West Indies' — ^liss Hippy went on im- pressively — 'hardly ever without inflammatory rheumatism, which you will admit makes stairs an impossibility for him, occupies my only ground-floor bedroom — just otl' the dining- room ! ' 'That is unfortunate,' I said, 'since I think in this house I would prefer a room on the ground-floor. lUit if I decide to take one of the others I will let you know, ^liss Hippy.' ^liss Hippy's countenance fell, changed, and again became expressive of doubt — this time offensively. ' I've not asked for any references,' though, of course, it is my custom ' 'You will receive references,' I interrupted, 'as soon as you require them. Good afternoon!' We were standing in the hall, and Miss Hippy, from force of circumstances, was obliged to unfasten the door ; but I did not hear from her, as I passed out into the street, any responsive ' Good afternoon ! ' ^Fy third experience was quite antipodal to Miss Hippy. Her parlour was Japanesy, too, in places, but it was mostly chipped ; and it had a great many rather soiled fat cushions in it, quite a perceptible odour of beer and tobacco, and a pair of gentleman's worked slippers under the sofa. The atmosphere was relaxing after Miss Hippy, and suggested liberality of all sorts ; but the slippers, to say nothing of the odours, aich might have floated in from other regions, made it impossible. I waited for the lady of the house a conscious hypocrite. 56 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON She came ia at last voluminously, rather out of breath, but with great warmth of manner. ' Do sit down ! ' she said. • I W.UTED FOU THE LADY OF THE HOUSE A CONSCIOUS HVPOCniTE ' * Now, it does seem strange ! Only las' night, at the table, we were sayin' how much we wanted one more lady boarder ! You AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 57 see, I've got four youiif^ gentlemen in the City here, and of us ladies there's just four, so we sometimes get up a little dance amongst ourselves in the evenin's. It amuses the young people, and much better wear out carpets than pay doctors' bills, say I. Now, I generally play, an' that leaves only three ladies for the four gentlemen, you see ! Now, isn't it a curious coincidence,' she said, leaning forward with a broad and confident smile, ' that you should have cor.ie in to-day, just after we were sayin' how nice it would be if there were enough to get up the Lancers ! ' I bowed my acknowledgments, ' You want a room for yourself, I suppose,' my hostess went on, cheerfully. ' My top flat, I'm sorry to say, is every bit taken. There isn't an inch of room up there ; but I've got a beautiful little apartment on the ground-floor you could use as a bed-sittin' room, lookin" out on what green grass we have. I'll show it to you ! ' — and she led me across the hall to a dis- mantled cupboard, the door of which she threw open. ' That,' she said, ' you could have for twenty-five shillin's a week. Of course, it is small, but then — so is the price ! ' and she smiled the cheerful, accustomed smile that went with the joke. ' I've another up here,' she said, leading the way to the first landing, ' rather j bigger — thirty shillin's. ^'ou see, they're both bein' turned out jit present, so it's rather unfavourable ! ' — and the lady drew in the deep breath she had lost going up the stairs. II could think of only one thing to say : 'I believe you said your top flat was all taken,' I remarked amiably. She was such a gt)od-natured soul, I couldn't bear to say anything that would hurt her feelings. ' That is unfortunate. I particularly wanted a room in a top flat. But if I decide on one of these others I'll let you know ! ' There were two fibs, and diametrically opposed S8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON fibs, within half an hour, and I know it's excessively wrong to fib ; but, under the circumstances, what could you say ? ' Do, miss. And, though I wouldn't for the world persuade you, I certainly hope you will, for I'm sure you'd make a very pleasant addition to our party. I'll just let you out myself.' And she did. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 59 VI I DROVE straiglit back to tlie Metropole, very tliankful intleed tliat that was evidently tlie tiling to do next. If there had been no evident thing to do nex> , I was so depressed in my mind that I think I would have taken a ticket to Liverpcol that night, and my passage to New York on the first steamer that was leaving. I won't say what I did in the cab, but I spoilt a perfectly new veil doing it. London seemed dingy and noisy, and puzzling and unattractive, and always going to rain. I thought of our bright clear air in Chicago, and our nice clean liouses, and our street-cars, and our soda-water fountains, and poppa and momma, and always knowing everybody and what to do under every circumstance ; and all the way to the Metropole I loved Chicago and I hated London. But there was the Metropole, big and solid and luxurious, and a fact I understood ; and there was the nico respectful housemaid on my corridor — it would be impossible to convince you how different servants are with us — and a delight- ful little fire in my room, and a tin pitcher of hot water smoking in the basin, and a sort of air of being personally looked after that was very comforting to my nerves. While I was getting ready for dinner I analysed my state of mind, and blamed my- self severely, for I found that I could not justify one of the dis- agreeable things I had been thinking in any philosophical way. I had simply allowed the day's experiences, capped by my rela- tion in the morning, to overcome my entire nerve-system, which 6o AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON was cliildisli and unreasonable. I wished tlien, and often since) that Providence had given us a more useful kind of nerve- system on our side of the Atlantic — something constructed solidly, on the British plan ; and just as I was wishing that there came a rap. A rap has comparatively no significance until it comes at your bedroom door when you are alone in a big hotel two thousand five hundred miles from home. Ihen it means something. This one meant two cards on a salver and a mes- sage. One of the cards read : ' Mrs. Cummers Portheris,'' with * Miss PutMss ' written under it in pencil ; the other, ' Mr. Charles Mafferton,' with ' 49, JTertford Street, Mayfair,' in one corner, and ' The Idhnian Cluh ' in the other. ' Is she there now ? ' I asked the servant in acute suspense. *No, miss. The ladies, they called about 'alf-past three, and we was to say tliat one lady was to be 'ere again to-morrow mornin' at ten, miss. The gentleman, he didn't leave no mes- sage.' Then my heart beat again, and joyfully, for I knew that I had missed my relation and Miss Pnrkiss, and that the way of escape was still open to me, although ten o'clock in the morning was rather early to be obliged to go out. I must say I thought it extremely foolish of Miss Purkiss to have mentioned the hour — it was like a fox making an appointment with a rabbit, a highly improbable thing for the rabbit to keep. And I went downstairs feeling quite amused and happy, and determined to stay amused and happy. My unexpected reward for this camn at dinner, when I discovered my neighbours to be two delight- ful ladies from St. Paul, Minn., with whom I conversed sociably there, and later in the drawing-room. They had known Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes ; but what to my eyes gave them an added charm was their amiable readiness to know me. I was AN AMERICAN/ CIRr /X LOXDOX 6i made to promise that I would send them my address when I was settled, and to this day I sutler from unquieted pangs of conscience because I failed to keep ray word. By ten o'clock next morning I was in Cockspur Street, Pall Mall, looking for the ' Lady Guides' Association.' The name in white letters on the window struck mo oddly when I found it. The idea, the Institution it expressed, seemed so grotesquely of to-day there in the heart of old London, where almost everything you see talks of orthodoxy and the approval of the centuries. It had the impertinence that a new building has going up among your smoky old piles of brick and mortar. You will understand my natural sympathy with it. The minute I went in I felt at home. There were several little desks in several little adjoining compartments, with little muslin curtains in front of them, and ladies and ink-bottles inside, like a row of shrouded canary- cages. Two or three more ladies, without their things on, were running round outside, and several others, with their things on, were being attended to. I saw only one little man, who was always getting out of the ladies' way, and didn't seem properly to belong there. There was no label attached, so 1 couldn't tell what use they made of him, but I should like to have known. The desks were all lettered plainly — one ' Lady Guides,' the next ' Tickets for the Theatre,' and so on ; but, of course, I went to the first one to inquire, without taking any notice of that — • people always do. 1 think, perhaps, the lady was more polite in referring me to the proper one than the man would have been. 'She smiled, and bowed encouragingly as she did it, and explained particularly, ' the lady with the eyeglasses and her hair done up high — do you see ? ' I saw, and went to the right lady. She smiled, too, in a real winning way, looking up from her entry- 62 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON book, and leaning forward to hear what I had to say. Then slio came into my confidence, as it were, at once. ' Wliat you want,' slie said, ' is a boarding-house or private hotel. "We have all the best private hotels on our books, but in your case, being alone, what I should advise would be a thoroughly well-recom- mended, first-class boarding-house.' I said something about a private family — ' Or a private family,' added the lady, acquiescently. ' Now, we can give you whichever you prefer. Suppose,' she said, with the kindly interested counsel of good-fellowship, dropping her voice a little, ' I write you out several addresses of both Idiub, then you can just see for yourself — and the lady looked at me over her eye- glasses most agreeably. ' Why, yes ! ' I said. ' I think that's a very good idea ! ' ' Well now, just wait a minute ! ' the lady said, turning over the pages of another big book. ' There's a great deal, as you j)robably know, in hcallfij in London. We must try and get you something in a nice locality. Piccadilly, for instance, is a very favourite locality — I think we have something in Ilalf- Moon vStreet ' ' Gracious ! ' I said. ' No ! not Ilalf-Moon Street, please. I — I've been there. I don't like that locality ! ' ' Really ! ' said the lady, with surprise. ' Well, you wouldn't believe what the rents are in Ilalf-Moon Street ! But we can easily give you something else — the other side of the Park, perhaps ! ' ' Yes,' I sai:l, earnestly. ' Quite the other sido, if you please ! ' ' Well,' returned the lady, abstractedly running her finger down the page, ' there's Mrs. Pragge, in Holland Park Gardens — have you any objection to children ? — and Miss Camblewell, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 63 in Lancaster Gate, vci'\j clean and nice. I think we'll pnfc iUcni down. And then two or three private ones — excuse me one minute. There! I think among those,' witli sudden gravity, 'you ought to find something suitable at from two to threc-and- a-lialf guineas per week ; but if you do not, be sure to come in again. We always like to give our clients satisfaction.' Tlie lady smiled again in that pardonable, endearing way ; and I w;ig so pleased with her, and with myself, and with the situation, and felt such warm comfort as the result of the interview, that I wanted badly to shake hands with her when I said Good-morn- iuGf. But she was so enn^aged that I couldn't, and had to content myself with only saying it very cordially. As I turned to go I saw a slightly blank expression come over lier face, and she coujifhed with some embarrassment, leaning forward as if to speak to me again. But I was too near the door, so one of the ladies who were running about detained me apologetically. ' Tiiere is a — a charge,' she said, ' of two-and-sixpcnce. You did not know.' So I went back uncomfortably and paid. * Thanks, yes ! ' said the lady in the cage. ' !/V'o-and-six ! No, that is two shillings, a florin, you see — and that is four — it's half-a-crown we want, isn't it ? ' very amiably, considering all the trouble I was giving lier. ' Perhaps you are not very well accustomed to our English currency yet,' as I finally counted out one shilling, two sixpences, a threepence, and six half- pennies. If there is a thing in this country that needs reform- ing more than the House of Lords — but there, it isn't to be supposed that you would like my telling you about it. At all events, I managed in the end to pay my very proper fee to the Lady Guides' Association, and I sincerely Lope that any of its members who may happen to read this chapter will believe that I never endeavoured to evade it. The slight awkwardness of the 64 -^A' AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON niistiilvo tui'iied out ratlicr pleasantly for mo, because it led me into fiirtlier conversation uitli the lady behind the eyeglasses, in which she asked me whether I wouldn't like to look over their establishment. I said Yes, indeed ; and one of the outside ladies, a very capable-looking little person, with a round face and short, curly hair, was told oft' to take me upstairs. I hadn't been so interested for a long time. There was the club- room, where ladies belonging to the Association could meet or make appointments with other people, or write letters or read the papers, and the restaurant, where they could get anything they wanted to eat. I am telling you all this because I've met nundjors of pcoi)le in London who only know enough about the Lady Guides' Association to smile when it is mentioned, and to say, ' Did you go ilicre ? ' in a tone of great amusement, which, considering it is one of your own institutions, strikes me as curious. And it is such an original, personal, homelike institu- tion, like a little chirping busy nest between the eaves of the great unconcerned City oflices and warehouses, that it is interest- ing to know more about than that, I think. The capable little lady seemed quite proud of it as she ushered me from one room into the next, and especially of the bedrooms, which were divided from one another by pretty chintz hangings, and where at least four ladies, ' arriving strange from the country, and else- where,' could be tucked away for the night. That idea struck me as perfectly sweet, and I wished very sincerely I had known of it before. It seemed to offer so many more advantages than the ^letropole. Of course, I asked any number of questions about the scope and working of the Association, and the little lady answered them all witli great fluency. It w^as nice to hear of such extended usefulness — how the Lady Guides engage governesses, or servants, or seats at the theatre, and provide AX AMERICAM CIRL IX LOXDOX fij dinners oiul entertainineiits, ami clollu'S to wear at them, and suitable iiiannors ; and tako care of children by the day — I do nut remember wiielher the little lady said they undertook to hv'iw^f them up — and furnish eyes and understanding', certilied, to all visitors in London, at ' a lixetl tariff — all except genth'- men unacccmipanied l)y their fanulies. ' Such clients,' the little lady said, with a shade of sadness, I fancied, that there should b^i any limitation to the benevolence of the Association, ' the Lady Guide is compelled to decline. It is a great pity — we have so many gentleman-a])plicants, and there would be, of course, no necessitv for sending iiouiki ladv-guides out with them — we have plenty of elderly ones, widows and so on; but' — and here the little lady grew confidentially deprecating — " it is thought best not to. You see, it would get into the papers, and the papers might chaff', and, of course, in our position we can't afford to be made ridiculous. But it is a great pity ! ' — and , the little lady sighed again. I said I thought it was, and asked if any special case had been made of any special entreaty. 'One,' she admitted, in a justifying tone. ' A gentleman from f]iii)an. He told us he never would have come to I'hiLdand if he ": had not heard of our Association, being ;i perfect stranger, with- out a friend iu the place.' 'And unacquainted with l']nglisli prejudices,' I put in. * Quite so. And wliat could we do ? ' ' What did you do ? ' I inquin>d. 'We sent two!' responded the little lady, triumphing onCv'^ more over the situation. ' Nobody could say ^oi//t]iing to that. And he icas such a pleasant little ma'.i, and thanked us su cordially.' ' Did you find him intelligent ? ' I asked. 'Very.' But the little lady's manner was growing rather ' 66 AX AMEIUCAX ClkL IN LONDON ii(l>^'."ty, Jiiid ii occiirivd to luc lliaf pcrliaps 1 wns taking nioiv inroniuitiuii tliaii 1 was eiititlrd to lor two-aiul-six. So I wiMit ivluctaiitly dowustair.s, wisliiiiir tlii'iv was soiiR'tliiiig olse • " WK SUNT TWO " ' that the lady-guldof^ could do for me. A little black-eyed woman down there was givi)i<^ some very businesslike orders. ' Half a day's slioppiu.irti('ular nl)out Iut aocoiiiits. lias y\r^. ^r.'isoii pot that private ward yet ?' ' 'I'liat/ said mv little ficd'oiie, in n siibduod tono, Ms our iiiaiiaurtTt'ss. Slit^ plamit'il the wliolt' tliiiii'. ^\^)lldl'^t'ld lu^ad !' ' Is that so y ■ 1 r.'iiiarUe 1. "J should like to conLTatulato her.' 'I'm atVaid there isn't time,' she returned, Itxtkin*^ tlurried ; 'and tiie niana<,a're.ss doesn't a})prove of anybody wasting it. ^\'ill you write your name in our visitors' l)ook'::'' 'With i)leasure,' I said ; 'and I'll come again wlienever T fi'i'l that 1 want aiivthing.' And I wnjte mv name — hadlv, of course, as people always do in visitors' hooks, but with tlii' lively satisfaction peoj)le always experience in writing their names — why, I've never been able to discover. I passed tho manageress on my way out. She was confronting a pair of ladies, an ohl and a young one, in black, who leaned on their parasols with an air of amiable indecision, and falteringly addressed her: ' I had a day and a lialf last week,' one of them said, rather weakly; ' is there ':^ — do you want mo for anything this ? ' 'J'he manageress looked at her with some impatience. 'If I want you I'll send for you, ^liss CJypsum,' she said. The door closed upon me at that moment, so I don't know how^ .Miss (Jypsum got away. As for me, I walked througli Cockspur Street and tlirough "Waterloo Place, and so into ]Mccadilly, reflecting upon Mrs. i'ragge, and ^liss Camblewell, and all their uncertainties. Standing in the lee of a large policeman on one of your valuable iron refuges in the middle of the street, a ilounced black-and- white parasol suddenly shut down almost in my face. The lady belonging to it leaned over her carriage and said : ' IIow d'ye do. Miss ? Dear me, how stupid I am about names! M.isi* F 2 68 ^X AMERICAN GIRL IX I.OXDOX Cliicngo-young-la(1y-wl,o-ran-away-witliout-gettiiig-n.y-acl.1,v.ss? Now I've found you, just pop in ' 1 1 must ask you to drive on. nuulani,' the policonian suid. ' As soon as this young lady lias popped in. ^J^here ' Now -oy dear, what did the relation say? Tve been lon..in'. to kn ' ° " now. And before 1 realised anotlier thing T was rolling up Regent. Street statefully in tlie carriage of .Mrs. Torquilin. AN AMERlL LV GIRL AV LONDON 69 VTT * A RE yon pfniiirr tlioro now?' ^^rs. Torr|uilln wont on. -^^ ' Because I'm only out for ;in airing", I can drop yoii anvwliere xou like' ' Oh, 1)V no means, tliank yon, ^Irs. Tor(|uilin," i said ; ' I'v*^ beeu tlicre alreadv,' • " T CAN D1«0P YOU ANYWIIKBK YOU UKK '> » 70 A.y AMKRICAX GIRL IX LOMHXV !Mrs. Torquilin looked ah mo witli an extraordinary expres- sion. On top it was conscieiitionsly slioeked, nnderneatli it was extremely curious, amused by antieipatiuii, and, through it all, kindlv. ^ Von don't get on,' she said. 'What did J tell yon? "Mark my words," I said to Charlies Mad'crton, "that child knows noihlnij of what .is ahead (»f her ! "' lUit pray go on. AVhat; happened ? ' I went on, and told ^frs. Tonpiilin what happened a good deal as I have told you, but I am afraid not so properly, because she was very niueh amused; and I suppose if the stor' of mv interview with Mrs. Tortheris excited anv feeling iii your mind, il was one of synipalhy for me. At least, that was what I intended. J hit I was so liappy in ^Irs. Torquilin's carriage, and so di'lighted to bo talking to .'■omebody I knew, tliat I made as funny an account of the tender greetings of my relation as t coulib and it lasted all the way to the ^I('tro})ole, where I was to be dropj)ed. 1 referred to her alwiiys as ' niy relation,' because ^Irs. Toniuilin seemed to enjoy the expression, lucitlenlally, too, I told her about my phuis, and showed her the addre.-sis I had from t!io lady-guide, and she was kind enough to say that if 1 did not liud Ihem satisfactory I nuist let lier know, and she could send me to a person of lier acquaintance, where I should be ' very comfy, dear ' ; and I believed her. ' Voii see,' slie said, 'I should like to take a little interest in your plans, l;ecause you s«'eni to bo the only really American girl I've come upon in the whole course of my travels. T!i(^ New York' ones were all Knglish in.itations — 1 had no patience witlithem.' 'Oh!' 1 responded, cheerfully, ' tluit's only on tlu» outside, !^^rs. Torquilin. If you ran down the Stars and Stripes I gues>} you would find them pretty American, ' A.v ami:r/cax giri. in LOXDOX 71 * Well, yosi,' Mrs. Torijuilin jidinllftHl, vl rcniiiiilior lliaf vim llio case'; l)uf jiisf. tluMi we stopped in fmnt of the Mrtropolo, inid 1 boL'^'t'd Iki* to conic in imd Iiuicli witli nie. 'Dear nic, fliilii, no ; 1 must be ofl'I " slic siiid ; l)ut 1 used all llio persuasion I could, and represented liow drciidjully lonely it was lor nie, and ^Mrs. Tonjuilin hesitated. Al I Iw luoni'-nt of her liesitat ion there iloated out IVoiu th • diiiini^-rooiu a most appetisin<^ supr<^oslion of fried soles. What small mutters contribute to important results! I don't, know anythini'' that, I have more; cause to bo j^'rateful to than that little wandering odour. I'or 3Irs. Torrpiilin, oncounterinu' it, said, with some feelinri[uilin and I pursued the wandei in^' odour into the diuinuf-room. We had a particularly ijfood lunch, and wc both enjoyed it immensely, thou^di .Nfrs. Tonpiilin made a fuss about my ordering champagne, and said it was simply ruinous, and 1 really ought to have somebody to look after me. ' iJy the way,' she said, ' have vou seen anvthiu''' of the Maircrtons? ' I told her that Mr. Mafl'erton had left his card thi' afternoon before, but I was out. ' Von were out':'" said Mrs. Tonpiilin. ' What a pity ! ' I said no; J wasn't very sorry, because 1 felt so unsettled in my mind tluit I was sure 1 I'ouldn't work myself n[) to an intellig.'ut discussion of any of Mr. Matl'erton's favourite snbj(>cts, and lie would hardly have found much pleasure in his visit. 'Oh! 1 think lui would,' said Mrs. Tonpiilin. ' A\'hat on earth has '* intelligent discussion " to do with it':' I know the Matfertona very well.' she went on, looiving at me ([uite sharply. ' Excel- lent family — cousins of Lord Maffcrton of Mafferton. Charlie has enough, but UQt too uuichj I should gay. llowgver, that's 72 /f.V AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON lu'itlioi' here nor thore, for ho lias no oxponsivo lial)Ifs, to m[) Ivnowknlgc.' 'Just ima<>'Ino,' I paid, 'liis \)('\\vx, consin fo a lord! And vet he's not a bit hauditv ! J lave vou ever s?en the lord, ^Irs. Torquilin ?' ' Bless the child, yes ! (ione down to dinner with him more than once I Between ourselves,' said ^Irs. Torquilin, confi- dentiallv, ' he's an old brute — neither more nor less ! But one can't be rude to the man. What hell have to say to it heaven only knows! V>\\t Charlie is quite callable of sn{ipi)ing his iimrers at him. Do have one of these ices.' I was immensely interested. ' What has ^Ir. ^Fafierton been doing ? ' I asked. ' I've no reason to believe he's done it vet,' said ^Irs. Tor- (juilin, a little crossly I thought. ' JVrha]is he >von't.' ' I'm sure I hope not,' I returned. ' Mr. ^NTafferton is so nice that it would be a pity if he got into trouble with his rela- tions, especially if one of them is a lord.' ' Then don't let liim ! ' said ^[rs. Torquilin, more crossly than before. ' Do you think I vrould have any Influence with him ? ' I asked her. ' I should doubt it very much. j\[r. ^lat^'erton doesn't strike me as a person at all susceptible to ladies' influence. But, if I knew the circumstances, I might try.' 'Oh, come along, child!' Mis. Torquilin returned, folding up the napkin. ' You're too stupid. I'll see the Mpffertons in a day or two, and I'll tell them what I think of you. Is there nothing else you'll have ? Then let us depart, and make room for somebody else.' And I followed !Mrs. Torquilin out of the room ■^vith a vague consciousness that she had an important voice ill AX AMKhWCAX GIRL I\ I.OSDOX n the ni.anagenicnt oftlir liotcl, and liail been kindenouuli to L'ive me my lunch. !^^y friend did not hike Iciivi" of nie in llit^ hall. • I'd like tn see the place," she said. 'Take me up into the drawing- room.' Mrs. Torquilin adndn-d the drawing-room vci-y mu;'h. ' (Sum pt nous ! ' (she said, ' Siimptnons I ' And as I walked . '; 1 ^ •om: of the lapiks was sittino holt TTr.icHT, WITH A sTrriN. ^rA.irsTic r.Yi: ' round it with her I felt a particular kind of jdeasure in being the more familiar willi it of the two. and a little pride, too, in its luxurv, which I had alwavs been told was spt^ciallv desiirned to suit Americans. I was <-o occupied with these feelings and with ^Irs. Torquilin's remarks, that I did not observe two ladies on a sofa at the end of the room until W(^ were almost in front of them. Then I noticed that one of the ladies was sitting bolt upright, with a stern, majestic eye fixed full ujion me, apparentlv 74 ^A' A.h'/:A7C.L\ oV/VA /\ LCA'/^oy frozt'U Willi iiKliu'iiatloii ; I also noticed that it was ^frs. Porllicrls. 'i'lic odit'i" ladv, in iiistv Mack, as 1 knew slio would be, occupied the lUitlicr end dl" the irofa, very ninch wilted indeed. ' Miss Wick,' said Mrs. Porthcris, portentously, standing up, 'I have been shoppiiij^ in the inti'rval, but, my friend ^liss l^ui'kiss — this is ^liss Purkiss ; ^liss Turkiss, this is ]\Iiss AVick, the connection from Ciiicapjo whom yon so kindly consented to try to befriend— Aliss I'nrkiss has been here since ton o'clock. You will excuse her rising — she i;:; ahnoL't, I might say, in a state of collapse! ' 1 turned round fo .Mrs. Tonjiiilin. 'Afrs. Torquilin," i sjiid, 'this is my relation, Afrs. Portheris. ^^frs. I\)rtheris — ]Mrs. 'rorquilin.' Jn America we always intro- duce. Bu\ I was astonished at the change in Mrs. Torrpiilin. She seemed to have grown cjuite two iuclu^s taller, and she was re- garding ^Irs. Portheris through a pair of eyeglasses on a stick in the most inexplicable manner, with her mouth set very firmly indeed in a sort of contemptuous smile. ' .Mrs. Cummers Portheris!' she said. ' Vcs, I think Mrs. Cummers JVrtiieris knows me. You did not tell me, dear, that Mrs. Pcrtlieris was your relation — but you need not fear that I shall think any the less of you for that.' 'Jleppy,' said ^^rs. Portheris, throwing up lier cliin, but looking distinctly nervous, ' your temper is much the same, lam sorry to see, as it always was.' Mrs. Torquilin opened lier mouth to reply, but closed it again resolutely, witli an expression of intinite disdain. Then, to my surprise, she took a chair, in a way that told me distinctly of lier intention not to desert me, I felt at the moment that I Ay AMKRICAX GIRL IX I.OXDON 75 would liavc given anylliliiL^'' to lie doscrted — tin* sitiiatir.u was so very cmbaiTassiiig, Tlu' only thing 1 could tliiidc of to do was to ask Miss Purkiss if she and Mrs. PoiMlieris wouldn't have some lunch. ^liss Purkiss looked quite clu^erful for a moment, and Ix'u'an to unbutton her glove; hut her countenanco fell when my unfeeling relation forbade her with a look, and said : * Thank you, no. Miss Wick! Having waited so long, we can easily manage without food a little longer. Let us get to our arrangements. J'erhaps ^liss Purkiss will tell Misis "Wick what she has to offer her.' Mvs. Porthcris was evidently trying to ignore ^frs. Torquilin, and sat offensively, and side- ways to her; but she could not keep the apprehension out of liCr evt\ ' Certainlv ! ' I said ; ' but Miss Purkiss must have some- thing.' I was determined to decline, ])ut I wished to do it as mercifully as possible. ' 'I'ell somebody,' I said to a servant who liad come up to poke the fire, 'to bring up some chiret and crackers.' ' Piscuits, child,' put in ?Irs. Torquiliu, 'is what you mean. Biscuits the young lady means' — to the servant — 'and be sharp about it, for we want to go out imn -diately.' Then — ' Miiy I ask what arrangements you were thinking of offering :.liss Wick ? '—to ^liss Purkiss. ^liss Purkiss began, cpuivi'ringly, that she had never dono such a thing in her life before, but as Mrs. I'ortheris particularly wished it ' For your own good, Jane,' interrupte 1 ]\rrs. Portheris ; * entirely for your own good. I don't call that gratitude.' Mis.s Purkiss hastily admitted that it was for her own good, of course, and that Mrs. Portheris knew her far too well to believe for a momout tbut §hc v/as not grateful j but I could 76 AX A.U/:AVt\lX (7/AY. /X /.OXPOX lijivo a iiit'e back bcdn •oil) on (lio sccoikI floor, and tlio uso of lior sitliiio--r()oin all dav. and l.bcint' ivcomiin'iulcd Itv ]\Ir.s. Por- thcris, she woiddn't tliiirc of many rxlras. Well, if there wore fires, li«r]its, the u?-(' of the bath and piano, Ijeots, and friends to meal?, that would be nil. 'it is (jiiite impossible!* said Mrs. 'foniniliii. 'J'm sorry yoii had the trouble of comin:'-. In the liist, plaee, I fear .mi rjiniiii I'ricud,' with emphasis and a eiirsorv u'lanee at Mrs. l*or- tlieris's chair, ' would liiid it dull in l'pp(>r I'aktT Street. Jii the second' — .Mrs. 'I'orquilin hesitated for a moment, and tlieii made tlio plunge — '1 have taken a tint for the season, and .Miss ^^'ick is roniino- to m<\ I l/dieve that is our little plan, mv dear' — with a meaninuf smile to me. 'J'hon Mrs. Toniuilin looked at ^^rs. I'ortheris as if she were wonderinj^'' whether there could be any diseiverable reason whv mv relation should stav any longer. .Mrs. j'drlhcris rose, routed, but with a calm eye and a steady front. ' In that ease I Aoy»(' you will bi> forbearing with ht-r, lli'l)j>y," she said. ' Ivcmcmbt'r that >hi' is a stranger to our wavs of thinkinu' and doiiiijf. and has iirobablv never had tlie advantages of np-briu'n'ng that vou and I have. I liave no doubt, however, that my ncjjliew, Colonel Wick, has done his best for her. Ax i/nii arc jn-nluihlij ni'-ifrr^ ]\c is worth his million.' ]\Irs. Torqnilin missed the sarcasm. ' Not 1 !' .'^he returned, coollv ; 'but I'm sure Iin verv glad to hear it, for Miss AVit'ks sake. As to my temper, I've noticed that those know inosfc .about it who best deserve it. 1 ilon't think von need ir trrii your.self about your young connection. Mrs. (''immers l*orthcris.' 'No,' said I, meeklv ; ' I should hate to be a weij^ht on your mind.' ^frs. I\trt)ieris took my hand in (piite an affect ing manner. Ax AMKkiCAX C.lk'l. IS' I.0\1H\V n 'TluMi 1 IcaWyou, Mks AVick,' she sukl, ' to tliis lady - aid to I'rovidenct'.' '"THEN I I.r.AVr Yor, miss wick." RIIK RAin, "TO THIS I.AliV AMI ?'0 rivjviM-.Nci: ■" ' ' IVtween tlioin,' I said, ' T oiiiilit to liavo a very good time.' ]\Irs. Purtlieris dropped my hand. '1 feel ,' she said, 'tliat 78 /1X AMrj^/CAX CI lit. IX lOXPOX 1 liaw dune my |»art lowartl you ; bill iviiicniber, if ovci' you ii'nt'.l a hoiiic, Miss ]*urkiss will take you iu. When in doubt ' * Play trumps! * said Mrs. Torquilin from lli.' window, wjieiv .she stood with licr Ijack to all of us. ' [ alwavs do. Is thai your carriage waiting outside, Mrs. Cummers Portlieris r' 'It is,' said my relation, l)etrayed into asperity. 'I hopo you have no objection to it ! ' ' Ob, none — not tlie h'ast. lUit the liorses seem verv restive.' '(Vime, ^li.ss Purkiss!' said mv relation. ' 'I'lu' wine and Ijiscuits, dear love," said Miss IVirkihS, ' are just arriving-.' But ^frs. Portheris was bowing, witli stately indefinitencss, to Mrs. Torquilin's back. * Come, ^liss I'urkiss ! ' she commanded again. 'You can get a sandwich at the " A. Ji, C." ' And Miss Purkiss arose and followed my relation, whicli w;.i tlie saddest tiling of all. As soon as they were well out of the room, Mrs. Torquilin turned round. ' I siipjiose you'll wonder about the why and wherefore of all this turn-up,' she said to me, lier cheeks Hushed and her eves siiarkling. 'It's a long storv, and I'll tell you another time. But it comes to this in the end — that ft' creature and I married into the same family. !My husband and the late -lolin Portheris, poor fellow, were step-brothers ; and that old cat had the impudence — but there's no use going into it now. All I have to sny is, she generally meets her match when she meets me. 1*11 put up with no hanky-panky work from ]\Irs. Cummers Portheris, mv dear— and well she knows it r /;.\- ami:kicax ci/^r. ix r.oM^ox 70 ' Tt Wiis (•( rtniiilv nic c (if v(.ii to liclp luc out of I lie dillii'iiltv, !Mrs. Toniuiliii." 1 s;;i 1, • Dir I'd lallnr ^j-o any\vln'iv than to !Miss PiirUiss's; Inil I'm smitv Voii I. a I io ' 'Trll a tarradiddli' '.•' Not a hit of it, iiiv doai- — I meant it. Two aiv l)»'tti'r llian ono. aiiv dav — I've plcnlN <•(* room in mv little Hat, and if yon like to sliarc tiif expenses, 1*11 not object. At all events, we can bnt try it, and it will be sliowin('d 1 was to her, and asked her if i;he had really considered it; and Mrs. Tonjuilin said, wasn't it enon^di that I should be left to Mliat woman," nu'aninyf mv relation, and that 1 should come next dav to see how we could best arranj^e matters. 'And while I think of it, child, here is my addres.s,' my friend continued, takin^; (»ut her card-case, and watchinjr me verv carefullv. with a little smile about her mouth. I looked at it. I think my embarrassment ^n-atitit'd her a little; lor the card read, ^ Lodi/ 'J'orijin'liii, 102 Cadogan Mansions, S.W.' I didut know what to sav. And 1 had he. mi callin«^ a ladv of title ' ^frs.' all this time! Still, I rellected, she would hardly have been so nice to me if I had oH'ended hi'r very much, and if she had been particular about her title she could have men- tioned it. 'It seems,' I said, ' that I have been makiuL? a mistalce. I expected to make mistakes in this country; but I'm sorrv I be<. Should he glad to he of use in any way. Please let me hiow your jwrmanent address as soon as 2^ossihle, as the mother and sister.-' would liJit to call upon you. — C. M.' This was nice and kind and friendly, and I tried in vain to reconcile it with what I had heard of English stiffness and exclusiveness and reserve, i would write to Mr. ]\[afferton, I thought, that very night. I supposed that by the mother he meant his own, but it struck me as a curious expression. In America we specify our parents, and a reference to 'the mother' there would probably be held to refer back to Eve. But in Enofland vou like all kinds of distinguishing articles, don't you ? Lady Torquilin's flat was a new one, of th'^ regular American kind — not a second or third floor in an old-fashioned London house — and had a share, I am thankful to say, in a primitive elevator. The elevator was very small, but the man in the lower hall seemed to stand greatly in awe of it. ' To get them there boxes up in this 'ere lift, miss,' he said, when I and niv trunks presented ourselves, ' she'll 'ave to make three trips at ' least' — and he looked at me rather reproachfully. ' Ware do j I /IN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 83 you want 'em puh out ? ' I said, ' Latly Torquilin's flat.' 'That's Xuinber Four,' lie couimentecl, 'a good ways up. If you wouldn't mind a h'extra sixpence, miss, I could get a man off the street to 'elp me with 'em — they do be a size ! ' I said by all means, and presently my imp(^dimenta Avero ascendiug with much deliberate circumstance, one piece at a time. Tho acoustic properties of Cadogan INFansions are remarkable. Standin;' at the foot of that elevator, encouraging its labours as it weve, I could not possibly help overhearing l^ady Tonpiilin's reception of my trunks, mingled with the more subdued voices of her housemaids. It was such a warm reception, expressed in such graphic terms, that I thought I ought to be present myself to acknowledge it ; and the man put on two ordinary- sized valises next, to allow me to go up at the same time. 'We've got our ordefs, miss, to be pertickeler about wot she carries, miss,' he said, when I thought a trunk or two mights accompany me. 'You see, if anvthini' w^nt wrongf Avitli 'er works, miss, there's no sayin" ware we'd l)e ! ' — and we solemnly began to rise. ' Ladies in the ^NFansions don't generally use tho lift such a very great deal,' he remarked further, ' especially goin' down. They complain of the sinkin'.' ' I shall always go up and down in it,' I said. ' I don't mind the sinking. I'm used to it.' * Very well, miss. You 'ave only to press the button and she'll come up ; an' a great convenience you'll find 'er, miss,' lie returnecT, resignedly, unlocking the grated door on Lady Torquiliu's flat, where my hostess stood with her hands folded, and two maids respectfully behind her, regarding the first instalment of my baggage. After she had welcomed me : ' It's curiosity in its way,' said Lady Torquilin ; ' but what's to be done with it, the dear oidy knows — unless we sublet it.' It a 2 84 AjV AMERICAX GIRL IX LOXDOX required some strength of mind to tell lier that lliore were two more coming up. Tlie next one slie called an abnormity, and the third she called a barn — simply. And I must say my trunks did look imposing in Lady Torquilin's flat. Finally, however, by the exercise of ingenuity on our parts and muscle on the maids', we got the whole of my bnggage ' settled up,' as Lady Torquilin exjirossed it, and I was ready for my first approved and endorsed experience in your metropolis. It came that afternoon. ' I am going to take vou ' said Lady Torquilin at lunch, 'to Mrs. Fry Hamilton's "at home." She likes Americans, and her parties — " functions," as society idiots call it — disgusting word — are generally rather "swagger," as they say. I daresay you'll eniov it. !Make yourself as tidv as possible, mind. Put on j'our pretty grey ; tuck in that " fringe " of yours a bit too, my dear ; and be ready by live sharp.' ' Don't you like my bangs, Lady Torquilin ?' ' Say your fringe, child ; people don't " bang " in England — except doors and the piano. No, I can't say I'm fond of it. What were you given a forehead for, if you were not intended to show it ? I fancy I see Sir Hector, when he was alive, allowing me to wear a fringe ! ' And Lady Torquilin pushed my hair up in that fond, cheerful, heavy-handed way people liave, that makes you back away nervously and feel yourself a fright. I went to my room wondering whether my affection for Lady Torquilin would ever culminate in the sacrifice of my bangs. I could not say, seriously, that I felt equal to it then. We went to ^Irs. Fry Hamilton's in a hansom — not, as Lady Toiquilin said, that she had the least objection to omnibuses, especially when they didn't drop one at the vevy door, but because there were no omnibuses very convenient to the part of AX A ME RICA X GIRL IX LOXDOX 85 Cromwell Hoad that ^Frs. Fry Ifainiltoii lived in. We inspected several before Lady ^J'orquilin made a selection — rubber-tyred, yellow-wheeled, with a horse attached that would hardly stand still while we got in. I was acutely miserable, he went so fast ; but Lady Torquilin likt'd it. ' He's perfectly fresli, poor darling ! ' she said. ' It breaks my heart to drive behind a wretched worn-out creature with its head down.' I said, Yes, I thought he was very fresh indeed, and asked Lady Torquilin if she noticed how he waofirled his head. ' Dear beastie ! ' she rephed, ' lie's got a sore moutli. Suppose your mouth were perfectly raw, and you had a bit in it, and a man tugging at the reins ' JUit I couldn't stand it any longer; I put my parasol up through the door in the top. ' ^fake him stop waggling ! ' I called to the driver. ' It's only a little 'abit of 'is, miss,' the driver said, and then, as the horse dropped his pace, he whipped him. Instantly Lady Torquilin's parasol admonished him. ' If you flog your horse,' she said emphati- cally, ' I get out.' I don't think I have ever driven in a hansom with Lady Torquilin since that our parasols have not both gone through the roof to point statements like these to the cabman, Lady Torquilin usually anguished on the dear liorse's account, and I unhappy on my own. It enlivens the most monotonous drive, but it is a great strain on the nerves. I generally beg for a four-wheeler instead ; but Lady Torquilin is contemptuous of four-wheelers, and declares she would just as soon drive in the British Museum. 8he says I will get used to it if I will only abstract my mind and talk about something else; and I am trying, but the process is a very painful one. When we arrived at ^[rs. Fry Hamilton's I rang the bell. ' Bless you, child ! ' said Lady Torquilin, ' that's not the way. They'll take you for a nursery governess, or a piano-tuner, or a 86 AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON bill ! This is tlie jiropor lliing lor visitors.' And with that- Lady Torqnilin riippcil sonorously and rang a ]K'al — such a rap and peal as I had never heard in all my lite before. In America "'MAKE IIIM STOP MAGGLING," I CALLED TO THE DRIVEit ' we have only one kind of ring for everybody — from the mayor of the city to the man who sells plaster Cupids and will take old clothes on account. A\"e approach each other's door-bells, as a nation, with much greater deference ; and there is a certain AX AMKRICAX GIRL IX I.OXDOX 87 Imnulir)^ in tlic way wo intnxliico our personalities anywliere. I ft'lt iinconifortable on ^Frs. Fry Hamilton's doorsti^p, as if 1 were iiof, individually, worth all that noise. Since tlien I liavo been (»bligcd to ' .i and ring myself, because Lady Torquilin likes me to be as proper as I can ; but there is always an in- i-onipleteness about the rap and an ineft'eetualness about the ring. I sim})ly liaven't Iho education to do it. And when the ibotman opens the door I feel that my face exi)resses deprecat- ingly, 'It's only me ! ' ' JJap and ring! ' says Lady Torquilin, deridingly, 'it's a tap and tiid-ile!' Lady Torquilin is fond of alliteration. Inside quite a few ])eo])le were ascending and descending a narrow staircase that clindjed against the wall, taking up as little room as it could ; and a great many were in the room on the ground-floor, where refresliments were l)eing dispensed. 'J'hey were all beautifully dressed — if I have learned anything in Lngland, it is not to judge the English by the clothes they wear in America — and they moved about with great precision, making, as a general thing, that pleasant rustle which we know to mean a silk foundation. The rustle was the onlv form of conversation that appeared to be general, but I noticed speak- ing going on in several groups of two or three. And I never saw better going up and down stairs — it was beautifully done, even by ladies weighing, I should think, quite two hundred ])ounds apiece, which you must reduce to " stun" for yourself. Lady Torquilin led the way with great simplicity and directness into the dining-room, and got tea for us both from one of the three white-capped modestly-expressionless maids behind the table — I cannot tell you what a dream of peace your servants are in this country — and asked me whether I would have sponge-cake, or a cress sandwich, or what. ' But/ I said, £8 A\ AMERICAN GIRL IX LOXPON ' wliere is ^Irs. Fry lliuiiiltou ? — I luivon't beon introduced.' 'All in <^()od time,' said iiJidy Torquilin. 'It's just as well to take our tea when we can get it — wt5 won't bo able to turn round in here in half an hour!' — and Lady Torquilin took another sandwich with coniposun\ ' Try the plum-cake,' she advised me in an aside. ' JJuszard — I can tell at a glance ! 1 have to denv mvself.' And I tried the plum-cake, but with a sense of guilty apprehension lest ^frs. Fry Jlamilton should appear in the doorway and be naturally surprised at the consumption of her refreshments bv an utter stranger. I noticed that almost everybody else did the same thing, and that nobody seemed at all nervous ; but I occupied as much of I^ady Torquilin's shadow as I could, all tlie same, and on the way up implored her, saying. ' Have I any crumbs ? ' I felt that it would require mort^ hardihood than I possessed to face ^Irs. Fry Hamilton with shreds of her substance, acquired before I knew her, clinging to my person. But concealment was useless, and seemed to be unnecessary. 'Have you had any tea?' said ^[rs. Fry Hamilton to Lady Torquilin, her question embracing us both, as we passed before her ; and Lady Torquilin said, ' Yes, thanks,' as nonchalantly as possible. Lady Torquilin had just time to say that I was an American. ' Really ! ' remarked Mrs. Fry Hamilton, looking at me ao'ain. ' How nice. The only one I Lave to-dav, I think.' And we had to make room for somebody else. But it was then that the curious sensation of being attached to a string and led about, which I have felt more or less in London ever since, occurred to me first — in the statement that I was the only one Mrs. Frv Hamilton had to-day. AX AMERICAS' CIRI. IS r.OXDOX €0 Tiiidy 'r(»r(|iiiliii (li>cl;irt'(l. iis slic looked roiiiul tlu' room, that slic did at sec ji soul she knew ; so nvi> luadc our way to a corner and sat down, and heufan to talk in tliosti nnind-restrd .«i)asnis tliat always attack p('o[)l(' who com;' with cacli otlicr. I'rc- sontly — ' Tlu'ro is that nice littlo ]\lrs. Pastcllc-Joncs ! ' said Lady Tonjuilin, ' [ mii.-arned to tell niilitarv men in this country. AVe have nothinijf like it in America, on tlu^ sanio scale; ollhou^di we have a great deal more air to breathe and veriss Fortescue said. ' I should like to go. Is it very cold ? ' I did not mention the area again. ' In some places,' I said. 'I should not like that. But then, you have the toe-began- ing — that must be nice.' I assented, though . did not in the least know, until :\Iis.s Fortescue spoke of skating, what she meant. :\Iiss Fortescue thought the skating must be nice, too, and then, she supposed, though it was cold, we always went out prei>iuril for it. And the conversation flagged again. Fortunately, a gentleman at the other end of the room, where the piano was, began at tliat moment to sing something very pleading and lamentable and uncomfortable, with a burden of 'I love thee so,' Avidch gene- rally rhymed with 'woe'— an address to somebody he called 'Dear-r-r ITenr-r-r-t!' as Iiigh as he could reach, hirning up his eyes a good deal, as if he were in pain. And for Ihe" ime it was not necessary to talk. AVhen he had finished M^ss For- tescue asked me if it was not delightful, and I said it was— did she know the gentleman's name ? .Aliss Fortescue said she did not, but perhaps Lady Torquilin would. And then, just as Lady Torquilin came up, 'How do you like J-]ngland?' asked ]\[iss Fortescue. 'Well,' asked Lady Torquilin. as we drove home in another 94 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON hansom, ' what did you and Gladys Fortescue find to say to each other ? ' I said, quite truly, that I did not remember at the moment, but I admired Miss Fortescue — also with great sincerity — so 'SOMEBODY HE CALLED '* DEAR-II-H IlKAU-ll R T ! "' enthusiastically, that I daresay Lady Torquilin thought we had got on splendidly together. And what I wonder is, if Miss Fortescne had been asked about our conversation, what she would have said. ^.V AMERICAN GIRL IX LOXDOX 95 IX ' TrOU are sure you know whore you're goiii^^?' Laid Lr.dy -*- Torquilin, referring to tlie 'Army and Navy.' ' Vidorin omnibus, remember, at Sloane-sqiiare ; a penny faro, and not more, mind. You must learn to look after your pennies. Now, what are you to do for me at the Stores ? ' ' A packet of liglit Silurian ; your camplior and aconite pilules; to ask how long they intend to ba over the valiso they're fixing for you ' 'Portmanteau they're re-coverini?. Yes, ero on ! ' 'And what their charge is for cleaning red curtains.' ^ And to complain about the candles,' addc"* Lady Tor- quilin.' ' And to complain about the candles.' ' Yes. Don't forget about the candles, dear. Soo what they'll do. And I'm verij sorry I can't go with you to ^Madtime Tussaud's, but you know I've been trotting about the whole morning, and all those wax people, with their idiotic expres- sions, this afternoon would simply finish mo off! I'll just lie down a bit, and go with yoa another day ; I couldn't stand up much longer to talk to the Queen herself ! You pop into the '• Underground," you know, at St. James's Park, and out at Baker Street. Now, where do you pop in ?— and out ? That's quite right. Good-bye, child. I rang for the lift to come up a quarter of an hour ngo; it's probably there now, and we mustn't fi6 A.X AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON keep it waiting. Off yon go I ' Jhit tlie elevator-door was locked, and our descent \\'m\ begun, wlien Lady Tor({uilin liurried along the passage, arustcd, and kept it waiting on her own account. ' It's only to say, dear,' she called through tho grating, ' that you are on no consideration whatever to get in or out of an Underground train while it is moving. On no cjjil- Kuhndion vhnt ; ' but tJie grating slowly disappeared, and the rest of Lady Torquilins admonition came down on the top of the elevator. I liad done everv one of the commissions. I liad been magisterially raised and lov/ered i'rom one floor to another, to find that everything 1 wanted was situated up and down so many staircases ' and turn to your right, madam," that 1 con- cluded they kept an elevator at the Stores for pleasure. I had had an agreeable interv'ew with a very blonde young druggist upon the pilules in the regions above, and had made it all rigiit with a man in mutton-chop whiskers and an apron about the candles in the regions below. I had seen a thing I had never seen in vnj life before, a ver}^ curious thing, that interested me enormouslv — a husband and father buving his wife's and daughters' dry-goods — probably Lady Torquilin would tell me to say • dress materials.' In America our husbands and fathers are too much occupied to make purchases for their families, for whicii it struck me that we had never been thankful enough. ' I will not have you in stripes ! ' I heard him say, as 1 passed, full of commiseration for her. 'What arrogance!' I thought. ' In America they are glad to have us in anything.' And I rejoiced that it was so. But, as I was saying, I lind done all Lady Torquilin's connnissions, and was making my last trip to the ground-floor with the old soldier in the elevator, when a gentleman got in at one of the stopping-places, and sat WA' AMEniCAX ClkL IX LOXDOX 97 (loW'ii opposite 1110. lie had tliat look of deliberate iiulifference that 1 have noticed no luaiiv J'liiglish gentlemen carry about with them — as if, although they are bodily present, their interest iu life had been carefully put away at home — and he coq- ^ ^l-l* \v.- '" I wHili NOT iTAVE YOU IN r.Tr.irEri,' i m:.u;i> iiui say centrated lils attention upon the point of his umbrella, just as he used to do upon the salt-cellars crossing the Atlantic Ocean. And he looked up almost with astonishment when I said, ' llow do you do, Mr. Malierton ? ' rather as if he did not quite expect II 98 AX AMl'JdCAX GIRL IX lOXDOX to be spoken to in an elevator by a young latly. !Miss Wick ! ' he said, and we sliook hands as the old soldier let us out. ' How very odd ! I was ou the point of looking you up at Lady Torquilin's. You see, I've found you out at last — no thanks to you — after looking all over the place.' There was a very definite reproach in this, so I told Mi*. !Mafferton as we went down the steps that I was extremely soi ly he had taken any trouble on my account ; that I had fully in- tended to write to him in the course of a day or two, but hehnd no idea how much time it took up getting settled in a flat where the elevator ran only at stated intervals. ' But,' I said, with some curiosity, ' how did you find me out, Mr. MafTerton ? ' For if there is one interesting thing, it is to discover how an unexpected piece of information about yourself has been come by. ' Lady Torquilin dropped me a line,' replied !Mr. Mafferton ; * that is, she mentioned it in — in a note yesterday. Lady Tor- quilin,' Llr. INfaft'erton went on, ' is a very old Iriend of mine — and an iiwfullv o-ocd sort, as I daresav von are beo-inninof to fmd out.' By this time we had reached the pavement, and were stand- ing in everybody's way, with the painful indetermination tliut attacks people wdio are not quite sure whether they ought to separate or not. ' 'Ansom cab, sir ? ' asked one of the porters. * No ! ' said Mr. Mafferton. ' I was on the very point,' he vrenton to me, dodging a boy with a bandbox, * of going toolfei' my services as cicerone this afternoon, if you and Lady Torquilin I would be good enough to accept them.' I * 'Ansom cab, sir?' asked another porter, as Mr. Mafferton, L getting out of the way of a resplendent footman, upset a small child with a topheavy bonnet, belonging to the lady whc » 1 AX AMERICAN GIRL /X LONDON 99 belonged to the footman. ' iVt* ! ' said Mr. ]\rafferton, in quite a temper. ' Sliall wo get, out of this?' he asked )iio, appeal- iiigly ; and we walked on in the direction of the Houses of Parlia- ment, ' There's no- thing on in par- ticular, that I know of,' lie continued ; ' but there are always the stock shows, and Lady Torquilin is up to any amount of sight-seeing, I know.' ' She isn't to- ■ day, Mr. Mafferton. She's lying down. I did my best to persuade her to come out with me, and she wouldn't. But I'm going sight-seeing this very minute, and if you would like to come too, I'm sure I shall be very glad.' Mr. Mafferton looked a little uncomfortable. 'Where were you thinking of going ? ' he asked. ' To ]\[adame Tussaud's,' I said. ' You go by the Under- ! ground Railway from here. Get in at St. James's Park Station, J and out at Baker Street Station — about twenty-five minutes in ithe cars. And you are not,' I said, remembering what I had UPSET A CHILD WITn A TOPIIEAM- BONNET 1 c \ I been told, ' under any consideration whatever, to get in or out of the train while it is moving.' II 2 ICO ylX AMERICAN CJRL IX LOXDON ^Iy. ^rafrortou laiiglieLl. ' liiuly TorqiiiJiii lias been coaclilni. yon,' he said : but he still 1< oked nnconifortable, and thinking' he felt, perhaps, like an iiitnuler npon my plans, and wishing to put him at his ea«o, I said: 'iL would really be very kind ot yon to come, ^Ir. ^laflerton, for even at school I never coiiUl remember English history, and now I've probably got your dynasties worse mixed up llian ever. It would be a great advantajre to pfo with somebodv who knows all the dates, and which kings usurped their thrones, and who they properly, Ijelonged to.' lAv. Mafferton laughed again. 'I hope you don't expect ;i'.'. that of me,' he said. ' But if you are quite sure we couldii'i, rout Lady Torquilin out, I will take you to ]\Iadame Tussaud': with the greatest pleasure, Miss Wick.' ' I'm quite sure,' I told ^\\\ ]\hifFerton, cheerfully. ' Slu siud all those wax people, with their idiotic expressions, tlii afternoon would simply finish her up ! ' — and ]\rr. ^lafferton sai Lady Torquilin put things very quaintly, didn't she? And w went togetlier into one of those great cchoiuf? caverns in tli sides of the streets that led down flights of dirty steps, past lli man who punches the tickets, and widen out into that border c desolation with a fierce star burning and brightening in tl: blackness of the farther end, which is a platform of the Under- ground IJailwav. ' This,' said I to ^Fr. ^^dafferton as we wallced up and dow: svaiting for our train, 'is one of the things I particularly want ci to see.' • ''^i Tlie penny weighing-machine ? ' asked ^Iv. ]\ratferionj fci' .i« had stopped to look at that. 'The whole thing,' said T — ' the Underground svstem. llir this is interesting in itself,' I added, putting a penny in, (nui-; PLEASli HULK !.IY I'.VnASOL, MK. MAFFKUTON, TII.VT I M.W GET; iUti. EKAQi TRUTH FOn ?IY Pf:NNY " ' 102 JX AMERICAX GIRL IN LOXDON sfepping on tlir* inacliino, ' Please hold iny parasol, ^Tr. 3rattl'rton, so that 1 may get the exact truth for iny penny.' Mr. JSIafierton took the parasol with n slightly clouded expression, whicli deepened when one of two gentlemen who had just come on the platform bowed to liim. 'I think, if you don't mind, !Miss Wick, we liad better go fartlier along the l)latform — it will be easier to get the carriage,' lie said, in a manner which quite dashed my amiable intention of telling him how even the truth was cheaper in this country than in America, for our weighing-machines wouldn't work for less than a nickel, which was twice and a-half as much as a penny. Just then, however, the train came whizzing in, we bundled ourselves into a compartment, the door banged after us with frightful explosiveness — the Underground bang is a thing whieli I should think the omnibus companies had great cause to be thankful for — and we went with a scream and u rush into tln' black unknown. It seemed to me in the first few niinutes that life as I had been accustomed to it had lapsed, and that a sort of semi-conscious existence was filling up the gap betweer. what had been before and what would be again. I can"t say I fuund this phase of being agreeable. It occurred to me tlia my eyes and my ears and my lungs might just as well hav' been left at home. The only organ that found any occupatio: was my nose — all sense seemed concentrated in that sharj) edged, objectionable smell. 'What do you think of the Under ground ?' said ]\rr. MafFerton, leaning across, above the rattK I told him I hadn't had time to analyse my impressions, in series of shrieks, and subsided to watch for the greyness of tli next station. After that had passed, and I was convinced th; there were places where you could escape to the light and a of the outside world again, I asked Mr, Maffertoo a, number AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 103 questions about tin.' railway, and in answerinhiecoat boys, and its monuments, and its ten thousand hansom cabs, lying just over my head ; and an odd, pleasurable sensation of nndermining the centuries and playing a trick with history almost superseded the Underground smell. The more I thought about it, and about what Mr. Maftertcn had said, the more I liked that feeling of taking an enormous liberty with London, nnd by the time wo ri^ached Baker Street Station I was able to say to Mr. Mafferton, with a clear conscience, in spite of my smuts and half-torpid state of mind, that on consideration I thought I icoidd like to compass London by the Underground — to ' make the entire circuit,' AN AMERICAX CJRL L\ LOXDON 105 X TT struck mo, from tlio .L outsRle, as oddly ini- posinu; — Madame Tussaiid's. Parlly, T suppose, l)ecauso it is ahvnvs more or less treated jocosely, ])arlly because of the homely little familiar name, and partly because a person's expecta- tions of a waxwork show are naturally not very loflv. I was looking out ior anytlnng but a swelling dome and a flag, and the liinh brick walls of an in- stitution. There seemed a grotcsqueness of dignity about it, which was empha- . Bised by the solemn man at the turnstile who took the shillingii and let us through, and by the spaciousness inside — empha- sised so much that it disappeared, so to speak, and I found myself taking the place quite seriously — the gentleman in ■ tin on the charger in the main hall below, and the wide *" jiif^rble stairs, and the urns in the corner^; and the oil paiiU- io6 A A' AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON inofs on the laii(llni>'s, uirI cvcrvtliiiifr. I befj^an askin"f Mr. Mafterton questions immediately, quite in the subdued voice j)eople use under impressive circumstances ; but lie wasn't certain who tlio arcliitect was, and couldn't sav where the niarblo came from, and really didn't l:now how many years the wax- works had been in existence, and hadn't the least idea what the gross receipts were per anninn — did not, in fact, seem to think lie ought to be expected to be acquainted with these matters. The only thing he could tell me definitely was that ^Sfadame Tussaud was dead — and I knew that myself. ' Upon my word, you know,' said Mr. ]\Iairertc»n, ' I liaven't been here since I was put into knickers ! ' I was surprised at this remark when I heard it, for ]\[r. ^NTallerton was usually eh^gant to a degree in his choice of terms ; but I should not be now. I have found nothing plainer in England than the language. Its simplicity and directness are a little startling at first, perhaps, to the foreign ear; but this soon wears off as you become accustomed to it, and I dare say the foreigner begins to talk the same way — in which case my speech will probably be a matter of grave consideration to me when I get back to Chicago. In America we usually put things in a manner somewhat more involved. Yes, I know you are <^!;inking of the old story about Americans draping the legs of their pianos ; Ijut if I were you I Avould discount that story. Tor my own part, I never in my life saw it done. The moment we were inside the main hall, where the orchestra was playing, before I had time to say more than ' How very interesting, Mr. Mafferton ! AVlio is that? and w^'v is hi famous?' Mr. Mafferton bought one of the red and^gilt and green catalogues from the young woman at the door, and put it into my hand almost impulsively. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 107 *I fiiiicy they're very complete — and reliable, ^liss Wick,' he said. ' You — you really mustn't depend upon me. It's such an unconscionable time since I left school.' I told Mr. ]\[afferton I was sure that was only his modest way of putting it, and that I knew he had reams of l']nglish history in his head if he would only just think of it; and he replied, * No, really, upon my word, I have not ! ' But by that time I realised that 1 was in the immediate society of all ^le remarkable old kings and queens of England ; and the emotions they inspired, standing round in that promiscuous touchable way, with their crowns on, occupied me so fully, that for at least ten minutes I found it quite interesting enough to look at them in silence. So I sat down on one of the seats in the middle of the hall, where people were listening to the orchestra's selections from ' The Gondoliers,' and gave myself up to the curious captiva- tion of the impression. ' It's not bad,' said ^\v. ^laflerton, reflectively, a little way off. ' No,' I said, ' it's beautiful ! ' But ' I think he meant the selections, and I meant the kiuofs and ; queens, to whom he was not paying the slightest attention. But I did not find fault with him for that — ho had been, in a manner, brought up amongst these things ; he lived in a country ', that always had a king or queen of some sort to rule over it ; he was used to crowns and sceptres. He could not possibly have the same feelings as a person born in Chicago, and reared upon I Ilepublican principles. But to me those quaint groups of royalties in the robes and jewels of other tiiues, and arrayed just as much in their characters as in their clothes — the characters everybody knows them by — were a source of pure and, while I sat there, increasing delight. I don't mind confessing that I like the kings and queens at !\[adame Tussaud's better than any- thing else I'v^ seen in England, ^t tho risk of being considered io8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON a pcr-ion of lo'.v intelligence. I know lliat Mr. James Russell Lowell — whom poppa alwaj's used to say he was proud to claim as a fellow-countryman, until he went Mugwump when Cleveland was elected — said of them that they were ' much like any other ]']nglish party ' ; but I should think from that that Mr. Lowell was perhaps a little prejudiced against waxworks, and intolerant of the form of art which they represent ; or, possibly, when he said it he had just come to London, and had not attended many English parties. For it seems to me that the peculiar charm and interest of the ladies and gentlemen at Madame Tussaud's is the ingenuous earnestness with which they show you their temperaments and tastes and dispositions, which I have not found especially characteristic of other English ladies and gentle- men. As Lady Torquilin says, how^ever, ' that's as it may be.' All I know is, that whatever Mr. LoAvell, from his lofty Harvard standard of culture, may find to say in deprecation of all that is left of your early sovereigns, I, from my humble Chicago point of view, was immensely pleased with them. I could not get over the feeling — I have not got over it yet — that they were, or at any rate had once been, veritable kings and queens. I had a sentiment of respect ; I could not think of them, as I told Mr. Mafferton, ' as wax ' ; and it never occurred to me that the crowns were brass and the jewels glass. Even now I find that an unpleasant reflection ; and I would not go back to Madame Tussaud's on any account, for fear the brassiness of the crowns and the glassiness of the jewels might obtrude themselves the S3Cond time, and spoil the illusion. English history, with its moated castles, and knights in armour, and tyrant kings and virtuous queens, had always seemed more or less of a fairy tale to me — it is difficult to believe in medioDval romance in America — and there, about me, was the fiiirv talc realised ; all the curious AN AMKRICAX GIRL fX LOXDOX 109 old people who tliccl of a ' surfeit of lampreys,' or of a bad temper, or of decapitation, or in other ways which would bo considered eccentric now, in all their dear old folds and fashions, red and blue and gold and ermine, with their crowns on ! There was a sociability among them, too, that I thought inte- resting, and that struck me as a thing I shouldn't have expected, some of their characters being so very good, and some so very bad ; but I suppose, being all kings and cpieens, any other distinction would be considered invidious. I Icjoked up while I was thinkinof about them, and cauy^ht ^\\\ ^lafferton yawning. ' Are you impressed?' he said, disguising it with a smile. ' Very much,' I answered him. ' In a way. Aren't you ? ' 'I think they're imbecile,' said Mr. jSIafferton. ' Indjecile old Things ! I have been wondering what they could possibly suggest to you.' Mr. Mafferton certainly spoke in that way. I remember it distinctly. Because I depended upon it in taking, as we went i- round, a certain freedom of criticism — depended upon it, 1 had ■ reason to believe afterwards, unwarrantablv. ■; ' Let ns look at them individually,' I said, rising. ' Collec- \ tively, I find them lovable.' 'Well, now, I envy them!' replied ^fr. ;^^afferton, with I great coolness. This was surprisingly frivolous in jMr. * ^lafFerton, who was usually quite whai^ would be called a serious person, and just for a minute I did not quite know wdiat to say. Then I laughed a little frivolously too. ' I suppose you intend that for a compliment, ^Fr. ^lafferton,' I said. Privately, I thought it very clumsy. ' This is Number One, I think ' — and we stopped before William the Conqueror asking Matilda of Flanders to sit down. 'I don't know that I did,' said INfr. ^FafTerton — which made 110 AX AMERICAX Gini IX LOXDOX the situation awkwiircl for me ; for if there is an uncomfortable thing, it is to appropriate a compliment which was not intended. An Englishman is a being absolutely devoid of tact. 'So this is AVilliam the Conqueror?' I said, byway of changing the subject. ' It may bo a little like his clothes,' said ]Mr, Mafferton, iudifferently. ' Oh ! don't say that, ]\[r. Mafferton. I m sure he looks every inch a AVilliam the Conqueror ! See how polite he is to his wife, too — I suppose that's because he's French ? ' Mr. ]\IafFerton didn't say anything, and it occurred to me that perhaps 1 had not expressed myself well. ' Do you notice,' I went on, ' how he wears his crown — all tipped to one side ? He reminds me just a little, Mr. jNEafferton, with that type of face — enterprising, you know — and hair that h^ngth, only it ought to be dark, and if the crown were only a wide-brimmed, soft felt hat — he reminds me venj much of those Californian ranchers and miners Bret Harte and Joaquin Miller v/rite about.' ' Do yon mean cowboys ? ' asked Mr. IMafferton, in a vray that told me he wasn't going to agree with me. ' Yes, that kind of person. I think William the Conqueror would make a beautiful cowboy — a regular "Terror of the Can von." ' ' Can't sny I see it,' said Mr. Mafferton, fixing his eye upon the bass 'cello at the other end of the room. ' It isn't in that direction,' I said, and Mr. Mafferton became exceedingly red. Then it occurred to me that possibly over here that might be considered impertinent, so I did my best to make up for it. ' A very nice face, isn't it ? ' I went on. ' What is he particularly noted for, Mr. Mafferton, besides the " so Tllld 13 WILLIAJI THE CONQUEUOU ! " ' 112 AX A. U ERIC AX GIRL IX LOXPOX Curfew, and tlie Doomsday Book, and introducing old families into England ? ' Mr. Maffcrton Lit Lis moustaclic. I had never seen any- body bite liis moustache before, though I had always understood from novels that it was done in England. Whether American gentlemen have better temper.^, or whether they are afraid t)f injuring it, or why the habit is not a common one with us, I am unable to say. ' Really, !Miss AVick,' ^[r. ^fafferton responded, with six degrees of frost, ' I — is there nothing about it in the cata- logue? lie established the only date which would ever stick in my memory — lOOG. But you nnistn't think he brought all the old families \v England over with him, ]\Iiss Wick — it is incorrect.' ' I daresay,' I said ; ' people get such curious ideas about England in America, ^Ir. ]\[afferton.' But that did not seem to please ]\[r. JNIafferton either. ' I think they ought to know,' he said, so seriously that I did not like to retaliate with any English misconceptions of American matters. And from what I know of ]\[r. Mafferton now, I do not think he would have seen the slightest parallel. ' How this brings it all back,' I said, as we looked at AVilliam the Second, surnamed llufus, in blue and yellow, with a plain front — 'the marks in history at school, and the dates let in at the sides of the pages ! " His dead body, witli an arrow sticking in it, was found by Purkiss, a charcoal-burner, and carried in a cart to Winchester, where it was buried in the Cathedral.'' I remember I used to torment myself by wonderini'- whether they pulled the arrow out, because in my history ic didn't say they did.' ' It's a fact,' said Mr. Mafferton ; ' one always does think of AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 113 the oltl cliaj) with the arrow sticking in Iiim. Burne-Jones or one of those fellows ought to paint it — the forest, you know, twilight, and the charcoal-burner in a state of funk. Tremen- dously effective— though, I daretiay, it's been done scores of times.' * And sold to be lithographed in advertisements ! ' I added. *Ah, Miss AVick, that is the utilitarian American way of looking at things ! ' Mr. ]\[aflerton remarked, jocularly ; and I don't think I could have been expected to refrain from telling him that I had in mind a certain soap not manufactured in America. When we got as for as ITenry the Second, Curtmantle, whom ^[adanie Tussaud describes as a ' wise and good king,' and who certainly has an amiable, open countenance, I noticed that all the crowns were dillerent, and asked i\Ir. ^^fafferton about it — whether at tliat time every king had his crown made to order, and trimmed according to his own ideas, or had to take whatever crown was going ; and whether it was his to do as he liked with, or went with the throne ; and if the majority of the kings had behaved properly about their crowns, and where they all were. But if Mr. ]\ratrerton knew, he chose to be equivocal ,,' — he did not give me any answer that I feel I could rely upon sufficiently to put into print. Then we passed that nice brave crusading Richard the First, surnained Occur de Lion, in sorae domestic argument with his sweet Berengaria ; and Mr. Mafferton, talking about her, used the expression, ' Fair flower of Navarre.' But at that time he was carrying the catalogue. King John I thought delightful ; I could not have believed it possible to put such a thoroughly bad temper into wax, and I t>aid so to ]\Ir. !Maflerton, who agreed with me, though without enthusiasm. 'The worst king who ever sat on the English I 114 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ' throne ! ' I repeated, meditatively, quoting from Madame ' Tussaud — 'that's saying a great deal, isn't it, Mr. Mafferton?' ■ My escort said No, he couldn't say he thought it represented such an acme of wickedness, and wo walked on, past swarthy ' little sad Charles the Second, in armour and lace, who looks— and how could he help it ? — as if ho were always thinking of what ' happened to his sire — I suppose the expression ' poppa ' is un- known among royalties. Mr. Mafferton would not agree to this either ; he seemed to have made up his mind not to agree to anything further. I should like to write a whole chapter about Henry the Eighth as he looked that day, though I daresay it is an habitual expression, and you may have seen it often yourself, He was standing in the midst of a group of ladies, includini' some of his wives, stepping forward in an impulsive, emotional way, listening, with grief in both his eyes, to the orchestras rendition of Bury I Bury ! Let the grave close o'er, as if deeply deprecating the painful necessity of again becomiiiL' a widower. It was beautiful to see the way the music worked upon his feelings. It will be impossible for me ever to think 1 so badly of him again. * What is your impression of liim ? ' asked Mr. Mafferton. I said I thought he was too funny for words. ' He was a monster ! ' my friend remarked, ' and you are ^ - quite the first person, I should say, who has ever discovered anything humorous in him.' And I gathered from i\[r Mafferton's tone that, while it was pardonable to think badly c: an English monarch, it was improper to a degree to find \m. amusing. Then T observed that they were all listening with Henry tlic AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 115 Eighth — Philippa of Hainault with her pink nose, and the Bhick Prince in mail, and Catharine of Arragon embracing lier monkey, and Cardinal Wolsoy in red, and Caxton in black, and Chaucer in poet's grey, listening intently — you could tell even by their reflections in the glass — as the orchestra went on — The days that have been, and never shall be more ! Personally, I felt sorry for them all, even for that old maid in armour, James the Second. Mr. Mafferton, by the way, could see nothing in the least old-maidish about this sovereign. They must have had, as a rule, such a very good time while it lasted — it must have been so thoroughly disagreeable to die ! I wanted immensely to ask ]\[r. Mafferton — but somehow his manner did not encourage me to do it — whether in those very I early times kings were able to wear their crowns eveiy day without exciting comment, as ^ladame Tussaud distinctly gives ± you the idea that they did. And it seemed to me that in those I days it must have been really worth while to be a king, and be I different from other people, in both dress and deportment. I would not go through the other rooms, because I did not believe ^ anything could be more beautiful than the remains of your early sovereigns, and, moreover, INIr. Mafferton was getting so very nearly sulky that I thought I had better not. But just through the door I caught a glimpse of one or two American Presidents in black, with white ties. They had intelligent faces, but beside your Plantagenets I don't mind confessing they didn't look anything ! I 2 ii6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XI IILVD not the lea.st expectjition of lu'Ing fortunate enougli to see your Parliament open, liaving always liearcl that all tlio peeresses wanted to go on that occasion, and knowing how littli' sitting accommodation you had for anyl)ody. Americans find nothing more impressive in l']ngland than the difiiculty of gel- ting a look at your system of government — our own is so veiy accessible to everyone who chooses to study it, and to come and sit in the general gallery of the House of Congress or the Senate without making a disturbance. 'Jdie thing an American tells first, and with most pride, when he comes home after visit iuL,^ England, is that he has attended a sitting of Parliament and seen Mr. Gladstone; if he has heard your veteran politician Fpeak, he is prouder still. So I had cherished the hope of somi^- how getting into the House while ]\irliament was in session, and seeing all the people we read so much about at home in connec- tion with the Irish Question — it was the thing, I believe, I had set my heart upon doing most ; but tickets for the opening of Parliament from ]\lr. jSratferton, with a note informing? Ladv I Torquilin that his cousin had promised to look after us on the occasion, represented more than my highest aspiration. Lady Torquilin was pleased, too, though 1 don't think slic intended to express her pleasure when she said, with an air of philosophical acceptance of whatever Fate might send, ' Provi- AX AMERICAN GIRL L\ I. OX DON 117 tlonco only knows, ni}' dear, liow the old iimii will bcliaN'e ! Ho rtm\j be as atrroealjle as possible — as nicrrv as a grig — and he may be in a temper like the '; and Lady Toniiiilin com- pressed lier lips and nodded her head in a way that toKl nie how h(>r remark wonld tinisli if slie were not a iiieiidier of the Chnrch of England, I'alher low, and a benel'actor to deep-sea iishermen and J)r. IJarnardo, with a strong objection to tobacco in any form. ' AV'emnst avoid subjects that are likely to provoke him : local self-government for Ireland has given him apoj)lexy twice; I've heard of his getting awful tantrums about this last Licensing Bill ; and marriage with a deceased wife's sister, I know, is a thing to avoid !' Then it dawned npon mo that this was Mr. ^Nfafferton's cousin, who was a lord, and I had a very great private satisfac- tion that I should see what he was like. ' I remember ' I said. 'This is the cousin that vou said was an old ' ■: 'Brute!' Lady 'J'orquilin finished tor me, seeing that I I, ' didn't quite like to. ' So he is, when he's in a rage ! I wouldn't ', be Lady ^Mafferton, poor dear, for .so)»ething! An ordinary "K" and an ordinary temper for me!' I asked Lady Tor- quilin what she meant by ' an ordinary K ' ; and in the next half- hour I got a lesson on the various distinctions of the English aristocracy that interested me extremely. Lady 'j'orquilin's ' K,' I may say, while I am talking about it, was the ' C.^LU.' kind, and not the ' K ' sometimes conferred late in life upon illustrious butchers. Lady Torquilin didn't seem to think much of this kind of ' K,' but I was glad to hear of it. It must be a great encouragement to honesty and industry in the humbler walks of life, or, as you would say, among the masses; and though, I suppose, it wouldn't exactly accord with our theory of govern- ii8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON iiient, I am sorry we liave nothing even remotely like it in America. It was a nice day, a lovely day, an extraordinary day, tlio February day Lady '^roninilin and I compromised upon a hansom and drove to the Parliament buildings. A person has such a vivid, distinct recollection of nice days in London ! The drive knocked another of my preconceived ideas to pieces — the idea that Westminster was some distance off, and would have to be reached by train — not quite so far, perhaps, as Washington is from New York, for that would just as likely as not put it in the sea, but a considerable distance. I su])pose you will think that inexcusable; but it is very difficult to be enough interested in foreign capitals to verify vague impressions about them, and Westminster is a large-soiniding name, that suggests at least a mayor and a town council of its own. It was odd to find i'c about twenty minutes from anywhere in London, and not t>) know exactly when you had arrived until the cab rolled under the shadow of the Abbey, and stopped in the crowd that waited to cheer the great politicians. Lady TorquiUn immediately asked one of the policemen which way to go — I don't know any- body who appreciates what you might call the encyclopa)dic value of the London police more that Lady Torquilin — and ho waved us on. * Straight ahead, madame, and turn in at the 'orseback statyou,' he said, genially, the distance being not more than two hundred yards from wliere we stood, and the turning- in point visible. On the way, notwithstanding. Lady Tor- quilin asked two other policemen. My friend loves the peace of mind that follows absolute certainty. Presently we were fol- lowing the rustling elegance of two or three tall ladies, whom I at once pronounced to be peeresses, through the broad, quiet, red corridor that leads to the House of Lords. AX AM ERIC AX GIRL IX I.OXDOX 119 1 We were nmong tho very first, and Imd our clioice of the long, narrow seats that run alon<( tlie wall in a terrace on each sitle of the Chainher. Fortunately, Lady 'lorquilin had attended other o|HMiin<,'s of Parliament, and knew that we must sit on tho left; otherwise wo might just as likely as not have taken our places on the other side, where there were only two or three old gentlemen with sticks and silk hats — which, I reflected after- wards, would have Ijeeu awful. But, as it Iiappened, we sat down "very decorously in our proper places, and I tried to realise, as wo looked at the crowded galleries and tho long, narrow, solemn crimson room with the throne-chair at one end, that I was in the British House of Lords. Our Senate, just before the open- ing of Congress, is so very different, ^^fost of the senators are grey-haired, and many of them are bald, but they all walk about quite nimbly, and talk before tho proceedings begin with a certain vivacity; and there arc pages running round with notes •and documents, and a great many excited groups in the lobbies, and a general air of crisp business and alacrity everywhere. Tho only thing I could feel in the House of Lords that morning was a concentrated atmospheric essence of Importance. I jwas thinking of a thing Senator Ingalls said to me two years fgo, which was what you would call ' comic,' when the idea truck me that it was almost time for Parliament to open, land not a single peer had arrived. So I asked Lady Torquilin Iwheu the lords might be expected to come in. Up to this 'time we had been discussing the nuUinerv by which we were surrounded. I ' I daresay there won't be many to-day,' said Lady Torquilin. i ' Certainly very few so far ! ' I ' Are there any here ? ' I asked her. ' Oh, yes — just opposite, don't you see, child ! That well- 120 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON set-up man with the nice, wholesome face, tlie tliird from tlie end in the second row from the bottom — that's Lord Roseberv ; and next him is the great beer-man — I forget his title ; and here is Lord Mafferton now — don't look — coming into the first row from the bottom, and leaning over to shake hands with Lord Roseberv.' 'Tell me when I can look,' I s:ii(l, 'because I want In awfully. But, Lady Torquilin, are iluj^e peers? They lo( k very respectable and nice, I'm t-ure, but I did expect more in the way of clothes. AVhere are their flowing mantles, and their cluiins and swords and things ? ' ' Only when the Queen opens Parliament in person,' said Lady Torquilin. ' Then there Ix a turn-out ! Now you can look i.t Lord Mafferton — the rude old man! Fancy his haviuLr the im.pudence to sit there with his hat on !' I looked at Lord ^Malferton, who certainly had not removed his hat — the large, round, shiny s"'k hat worn by every gentle- man in England, and every commercial traveller in America, Under the hat he was very pink and fat, with rather a snubbv nose, and little twinklin'j: blue eves, and a suofofestion of white A/hi 4:er about the place where his chin and his cheek disap- peared into his neck. He wore lavender-kid gloves, and was inclined to corpulency. I should not have trusted this descrip- tion of a peer of your realm if it had come from any other American pen than my own — I should have set it down as a gross exaggeration, due to env^", from the fact that we can neither produce p.^ers in our own country nor keep them there for any length of time ; but I was obliged to believe my own eyes, and that is the way they reported Lord Mafferton from the other side of your Upper House. There were other gentlemen in the rows opposite — gentlemen all in black, and gentlemen in light waist- Ay AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON \2\ ccats, bearded and clean-shaven, most of them elderly, but a few surprisingly middle-aged — for your natural expectation is to see a peer venerable — but I must say there was not one that I would have picked out to be a peer, for any particular i-eason, in the street. And it seemed to me that, since they are consti- tutional, as it were, there ought to be some way of knowing them. I reasoned again, however, that perhaps my lack of dis- crimination was due to my not being accustomed to seeing peers — thiit possibly the delicate distinctions and values that make up a peer would bo perfectly evident to a person born, so to speak, under the shadow of the aristocracy. And in the mean- time the proceedings began by everybody standing up. I don't know whether I actually expected a procession and a band, but when I discovered that we were all standinijf while four or five gentlemen in red gowns walked to the other end of the room and took chairs, my emotions were those of blank surprise. PresenMy I felt Lady Torquilin give an emphatic tug to my skirt, 'Sit down, child! ' she said. ' Everybody else has! Do you want to make a speech ? ' — and I sat down quickly. Then I observed that a gentleman in black, also in fancy dress, was reading something indistinctly to the four or five red-gowned gentlemen, who looked very solemn and stately, but said nothing. It was so difficult for a stranger to understand, that I did not quite catch what was said to another gentleman in black with buckled shoes, but it must have been to the purport of 'Go and fetch it!' for he suddenly began to walk out backwards, stop- ping at every few steps to bow with great deference to them of the red gowns, which must have been very trying, for nobody returned the bows, and he never could tell who might have come in behind him. ' I suppose he has gone out for a minnte to get something,' I said to Lady Torquilin ; and tlien she told 122 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON me what, of course, I ought to have known if I had refreshed myself with a little English history before starting — that he was the Usher of the Black Rod, and had been sent to bring the members of the other Parliament. And presently there was a great sound of footsteps in the corridors outside, and your House of Commons came hurrying to the ' bar,' I believe it is called, of your House of Lords. It was wonderfully interesting to look at, to a stranger, that crowd of members of your Lower House as it came, without ceremony, ro the slender brass rod and stopped there, because it could come no farther — pressing against it, laying hands upon it, craning over it, and yet held back by the visible and invisible force of it. Compared with the well-fed and well-groomed old gentlemen who sat comfortably inside, these outsiders looked lean and unkempt ; but there were so many of them, and they seemed so much more in earnest than the old gentlemen on the benches, that the power of the brass rod seemed to me extraordinary. I should not have been an American if I had not wondered at it, and whether the peers in mufti would not some dav be obliged to make a habit of dressinr; lip in their mantles and insignia on these occasions to impress the Commoners properly with a sense of difference and a reason for their staying outside. Then, as soon as they were all ready to pay attention, the Yice-Chancellor read the Queen's letter, in which Her Majesty, BO far as I could understand, regretted her inability to be present, told them all a good deal about what she had been doing since she wrote last, and closed by sending her kind regards and best wishes — a very pleasant letter, I thought, and well-written. Then we all stood up again while the gentlemen in red, the Lord Chancellor, and the others walked out ; after which everybody dispersed, and I found myself shaking hands with Lord Maffer- A.V AMERICAS GIRL IX LOXDOX 123 ton in a pmluy. hearty way, a> lio ami f,:i(ly 'roivjuilin and I (lopartod tog'etlier. 'So tliis is our littlo Vankoo ! ' saitl Lord Martcrtoii. 'with ]iis fat round chin stretched out sidewavs, and liis liands behind his back. Now I am (pute iive-leet eight, and I do not liko being called names, but I found a diffi- culty in telling Lord ]\rafFertou that T was not their little \'ankee; so I ^ 'i>:>> nnir. smiled, and said notl well ! r*omo over the " duckpond"' — isn't that what you call the tlan- tic Ocean ? — to see how fast old Eng- land is going to pieces, eh ? ' ' Oh ! " saiu Lady Torquilin, ' I think ^liss Wick is delighted with England, Lord Mafferton.' ' Yes,' I said, ' I am. Delighted with it ! AVliy should anj'- body think it is going to pieces ? ' 'Oh, it's a popular fancy in some quarters,* said Lord __-_^-J LORD M.VFFKUTnX. 124 ^A' AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON JSraffbrton. Being a lord, I don't suppose he winked at Lady Torqnilin, but lie did sometliing very like it. 'I should call it a popular fallacy,' I declared; at which Lord ^MafFerton laughed, and said, 'It was all very well, it was all very well,' exactly like any old grandpapa. '^li&s Wicl; would like a look over the place, I suppose,' he said to Lady Torqnilin. ' You think it would be safe, eh ? No explosives concealed about her — she doesn't think of bhnving us up?' And this very jocular old peer led the way through a labyrinth of chambers and corridors of which I can't possibly remember the locality or the purpose, because he w eut so fast. 'No doubt you've heard of Cromwell,' he said beside one door. I should liave liked to know wliv he asked me, if there was no doubt of it ; but 1 suppose a lord is not necessarily a logician. 'This is tlie room in which he signed the death- warrant of Charles the First.' ' Dear me,' I said. ' The one that he's holding a copy of on his lap at iMadame Tussaud's ? ' ' I dare say ! I dare say ! ' said Lord ^Nrafiferton. ' But not so fast, my dear young lady, not so fast ! You mustn't go ?'», you know. That's not allowable! ' and he whisked us away to tl:e Librarv. ' Of course, Miss Wick understands,' he said to Ladv Torqnilin, ' that every w^ord spoken here above a whisper means three days in a dungeon on bread and water ! ' By this time my ideas of peers had become so confused that I was entirely engaged in trying to straighten them out, and liad very little to say of any sort ; but Lord Mafferton chatted continually as we walked through the splendid rooms, only interrupting him- self now and then to remind me of the dungeon and the penalty of talking. It was very difficult getting a first impression of the English House of Parliament and an English peer at the A.V AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON 1:5 same time — tliey continually interrupted each otlier. It was in the Royal Banqueting Hall, for instance, where I was doing my best to meditate upon scenes of the past, that Lord ^fafferton stated to Lady Torquilin his objection to the inside of an omnibus, and this in itself was distracting. It would never occur to any- body in America to think of a peer and an omnibus together. The vestibule of the House of Commons was full of gentlemen walking about and talking; but there was a great deliberateness about the way it was done — no excitement, and every man in his silently-expressive silk hat. Tliey all seemed interested in each otlier in an observinor wav, too, and whether to bow or not to bow ; and when Lord Matferton recognised any of them, he was usually recognised back with great cordiality. You don't see so much of tliat when Congress opens. The members in the lobby are , usually a great deal too much wrapped up in business to take ' much notice of each other. I observed, too, that the J^ritish Covernment does not provide cuspidores for its legislators, which I struck me as reflecting very favourably u])on the legislative sense I of propriety here, especially as there seemed to lo no obvious I demand for such a thing. 'Bless you, my dear young lady, you mustn't go in there !^ exclaimed Lord ^lafferton at the door of the House, as I stepped in to take a perfectly inoffensive hjok at it. 'Out with you quick, or they'll have you olf to the Tower before you can say Cieorge Washington ! ' ' But why ? ' I asked, quite breathless with my sudden exit. 'Young people should m-ver a a journey in an ouniibus. Of course, I know there arc a fi'W places pre- eminent in reputation and ' form ' and ])rice — above all in ]n*ice — which j^'ather in a few well-known streets ; but life in all theso little centres which make up London would be quite comi)lele without them. They seem to exist for the l)rnetlt of thai cxtra- vagant element here that has nothing to do with t he small respect- able houses and the little domestic squares, but hovi-rs over the city during the time of year when the sun shines and the fogs are not, living during that time in notable localities, under the special inspection of the ' .Morning J\ist.' 'J'he ]X'opli^ who nvilly live in London — the people of the little centres — can quite Well ignore these places; they have their special shop in Uxbridge lload or 8t. l^iuTs Churchyard, and if they tire of their own particular local cut, they can make morning trips from Uxbridge Road to the High Street, Kensington, or from either to AVestbourne (jJrove. To Americans this is very novel and amusing, and we get a great deal of extra pleasure out of shop- ping in London in sampling, so to speak, the ditferent sub- municipalities. While I was thinking these things. Lady Tonpiilin poked me with her parasol from the other end of the onmibus. * Tell him to stop ! ' she said, and I did ; at least, the gentleman in the corner made the request for me. That gentleman in the 134 AN AM ERIC AX GIRL IN LONDON coriior is a featmv of your oniiilbiis pyst-oiii, I tliink. His nnii, or his stick, or his iiiubrellii, is always at tho service of any hitly 'THAT GENTLEJIAN HT TUT: CORNKtl IS A FFATrRK OF YOUR OJIXinrS SYSTr:>r, who waiils the bell rung. It seems to be a tluty that goes ■svltli the corner seat, cheerfully accepted by every man that sits there. AX AMF.RICAX CIRL L\ I.OXDOX 1J3 AVe liad ;:n'ivinl in Iniiul Street, at llio dearest place. From wliat F^ady Toi'cjuiliu told me. T p'ailuTed tliat ]>oudStrt'et was a reii-ular liauiil lor dearest places; but it would be iui- possible for any straii^x'r to suppose so froui walking through it — it is so narrow and ci'ooked and irregular, and the shops are so comparatively insignilicant after the grand sweep of Kegent Street and the wide varii'ty of the circuses. For oni\ I should have thought circuses would be the best possible places for busi- ness in London, not onlv because the address is so easilv remem- bered, but because once you get ink) them they are so extremely difllcult to u'et out of. However, a st ran o'er never can tell. Inside, the dearest place was a stronger contrast to tlie cheapest place than 1 could describe by any antithesis. There was an exclusive emptiness al;out it that seemed to suggest a certain temerity in coming in, and explained, considered com- mercially, why the rare visitors should h.ave such an expensive time of it. One or two tailor-made ladies discussed something in low tones with an ;issistant, and Ijesido these there was no- body but a couple of serious-minded shopwalkers, some very elegant vounu' ladies-in-wailiuLi'. and the dnmnues that called vour attention to the fashion-; thev were exhibilinp;. 'Jdie dummies v.'ere headless, but nrobablv bv the varietv of tlieir clothes thev struck vou as bein<>- reallv the onlv iiersonalities in the shop. AVe looked at some of tlu^m before advancing far into the august precincts of the dearest place, Jind Fady Torrpalin had a sweeping opinion of them. ^ Jlidcjiisl 1 call them," she said; but she said it in rather a hushed tone, quite diflerent from tho one she would have used in the cheapest place, and I am snro the shopwalker did not overhear. ' Fulgari .n atrocities! How in the world people inuigine such things! And as to setting to work to make them ' 136 Ay AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON I can't say I agreed with Lady Torquilin, for there was a distinct idea in all the dresses, and a person always respects an idea, whether it is pretty or not ; but neither can I profess an admiration for the fashions of the dearest place. They wciv rather hard and unsympathetic ; they seemed to sacrifice every- thing to he in some degree striking ; their motto seemed to \w. ' Let us achieve a difference ' — presumably from the fashions of places that were only dear in the comparative degree. AVliile w^e were looking at them, one of the pale young women strolled languidly up and remarked, with an absent expression, that one j of them was ' considered a smart little gown, moddam ! ' ' Sniiirt ' enough, I daresay,' said Lady Torquilin, with a slightly invidious | emphasis on the adjective ; whereat the young woman said nothing, but looked volumes of repressed astonishment at tlie ignorance implied. Lady Torquilin went on to descrilje the kind of dress I thought of buying. ' Certainly, moddam ! Will you take a seat, moddam ? Something (iidie simple I think you said, moddam, and in muslin. I'll be with you in one moment, moddam.' And tlie young woman crawled away with the negligence that became the dearest place. After an appreciable time she returned with her arms full of what they used to call, so very correctly, ' fur- | belows,' in spotted and flowered muslins. ' Dearie me ! ' said Lady Torquilin. ' That's precisely wliat I wore when I was a girl ! ' \ * Yes, moddam ! ' said the young woman, condescending to I the ghost of a smile. ' The old styles are all comin' in again'— at which burst of responsiveness she suddenly brought herself up sharply, and assumed a manner which forbade you to pre- sume upon it. AN AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON 137 I picked up one of the garlanded muslins and asked the price of it. It had three frills round the bottom and various irrele- vant ribbon-bows. ' Certainlj', moddam ! One moment, moddam ! ' as she looked at the ticket attached. ' This one is seventeen guineas, moddam. Silk foundation. A Paris model, moddam, but I dare say we could copy it for you for less.' Lady Torquilin and I nuido a simultaneous movement, and looked at each other in the expressive way that all ladies understand who go shopping with each other. 'Thanks!' I said. 'It is much too expensive for me.' 'We have notiiing of this style under fifteen guineas, moddam,' replied the young woman, with a climax of weary frigidity. ' Then, shall we go ? ' I asked Lady Torquilin — and we went. ' Viliat a price ! ' said Lady Torquilin, as we left the dearest place behind us. I said I thought it was an insult — eighty-five dollars for a ready-made sprigged muslin dress ! — to the intelligence of the IIIE YOrXO WO>rAN CnA\\TFr> AWAY WITH THK NKGLIGKNCE THAT BECAME THE DE.VIIEST PLACE ' 138 AM AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON people who were expected to buy it. That, for my part, I should feel a distinct loss of self-respect in biiyini^ anything at the dearest place. AVliat would I be paying for ? ' For being able to say that it came from the dearest place,' said Lady TorquiUn. ' But I thought you Americans didn't mind what anything cost.' That misconception of Lady Torquilin's is a popular one, and 1 was at some pains to rectify it. ' We don't,' I said, ' if we recognise the fairness of it ; but nobody resents being imposed upon more than an American, Lady 'J'orquilin. AVe have our idiots, like other nations, and I daresay a good many of them come to London every year and deal exclusively at the dearest place ; but as a nation, though we don't scrimp, we do like the feeling that we are paying for value received.' ' Well,' said Lady Torquilin, ' I believe that is the case. I know Americans talk a great deal about the price of things — more, I consider, than is entertaining sometimes.' 1 said I knew they did — it was a national fault — and what did Lady Torquilin think the dress I had on cost, just to compare it with that muslin, ,and •a pehson op oreat dignity in high, black sleeves ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 139 Chicago was by no means a cheap place for anything. Lady Torquilin said she hadn't an idea— our dollars were so difliciilt to reckon in; but what did / think Acz-.s- came to— and not a scrap of silk lining about it. And so the time slipped away until we arrived in the neighbourhood of Cavendish Square, at what Lady Torquilin called ' the happy medium,' where the windows were tempting, and the shopwalker smiled, and the lady-in-waiting was a person of great dignity, in high, black sleeves, with a deliglitful French accent when she talked, which she very seldom forgot, and only contradicted when she said ''Ow' and ' 'elliotrope,' and where things cost just about what they did in America. I have gone very patiently ever since to the happy medium, partly to acquire the beautiful com- posure of the lady-in-waiting, partly to enjoy the respect which all Americans like so much in a well-conducted Ent^lish shop, and partly because at the happy medium they underland how to turn shopping into the pleasant artii>tic pastime it ought to be, which everybody in America is in far too much of a liurry to make a fortune and retire to do for liis customers. I am on the most agreeable footing with the lady in the sleeves now, and I have observed that, as our acquaintance progresses, her com- mand of English consonantal sounds remarkiibly increases. 13 1 1 I have never been able to reconcile myself, even theoreticallv either to the cheapest place, in the Edgware Road, or the dearest place, in Bond Street. 140 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 'K XIII S a nation I can't bear 'em — indi- vidually, I like *em faidij well,' read out Lady Torquilin from a letter at break- fast. ' Bless me ! ' my friend went on, 'she's talking about Americans, and she's coming to see " your specimen " — mean- ing you, child — this very afternoon.' So she did. 81ie came to see me that very afternoon — the lady who couldn't bear us as a nation, but individually liked US fairly well. Her name wns Corke, and slie belonged. Lady Torquilin said, to ihe Corkes. I heard all about her before ,she came. She was a lady of moderate income, unmarried, about ten years older Vf than I was. She knew all about every- thing. ' You never saw such a reader, my dear ! I won't say it happens often, for that it does not, but Peter Corke has made me feel like a perfect ignoramus.' ' Tcter Corke ? ' I said, with some surprise. ' Too ridiculous, I call it ! Her proper name is Catharine Clarissa, but she hates her proper name — sensible girl as she is in every other way — prefers Peter ! And if she happens to take a fancy to you, she will tell you all manner of interesting AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 141 tilings. For old holes and corners, I always say, go to Peter Corke.' ' I'm glad,' I said, ' that she likes us, individually, fairly well — it's the only way in which I would have any chance! JUit she won't like niv accent.' ' If she doesn't,' Lady Torquilin said, ' I promise you she'll tell you. And you won't mind a bit.' AVhen Miss Corke arrived I foi'got entirely about the doubt- fulness of her likins: me — I was too much absorbed in liking her. She was rather a small person, with a great deal of dignity in her shoulders and a great deal of humour in her face — the most charminof face I have seen in Knijfland, and I can't even make an exception in favour of the Princess of Wales. I may tell you that she had delitrlitful twinkling brown eves, and hair a shade darker, and the colour and health and energy that only an English woman possesses at thirty, without being in the least afraid that you could pick her out in the street, or anywhere — si e would not like that — and being put in ]n-int, so that p( ople would know her, at all ; it's a thing I wouldn't do on any account, knowing her feelings. It is only because I am so well convinced that I can't tell you what she was like that I try, which you may consider a fendnine reason, if you want to. !Miss Peter Corke's personality made you think at once of ►Santa Claus and a profound philosopher — could you have a more dilli- cult combination to describe than that ? AVhile you listened to a valuable piece of advice from her lips you might be quite certain that she had an orann^o for vou in the hand behind her back; and however you might behave, you would get the orange. Part of her charm was the atmosphere of gay Ijeiicfi- cence she carried about with her, that made you want to edgo your chair closer to wherever she was sitting ; and part of it 142 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON was the remarkable interest she had in everything that con- cerned you — a sort of interest that made you feel as if such in- formation as you could give about yourself was a direct and valuable contribution to the sum of her knowledge of humanity ; and part of it was the salutary sincerity of everything she had to say in comment, though I ought not to forget her smile, which was a great deal of it. T am sure I don't know why I speak of ]\Iiss Peter Corke in the past^ tense, however. She is not dead — or even married ; I cannot imagine a greater misfor- tune to her large circle of friends in JiOndon. ' Tu:o lumps, please,' begged Miss Corke of me in the midst of a succession of inquiries about Lady Torquilin's cough, whether it could possibly be gout, or if she had been indulging in salmon and cucumber latelv, in which case it served her perfectly right. ' What a disappointment you are ! AVhy don't you ask me if I like it with all the trimmings ? ' ' The trimmings ? ' I repeated. 'Certainly! the sugar and milk! Fancy being obliged to explain Americanisms to an American ! ' said Miss Corke to Lady Torquilin. ' Is trimmings an Americanism ? ' I asked. ' I never heard it before. liut I dare say it is an expression peculiar to Boston, perhaps.' • You had better not have any doubt,' said Miss Corke, with mock ferocity, 'of anything you hear in England.' ' I've heard fixings often at home,' I declared, ' but never trimmings.' ' Oh ! ' remarked ISIiss Corke, genially ; ' then fixings is the correct expression.' ' I don't know,' I said, ' about its being the correct expres- sion. Our washerwoman uses it a good deal.' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 143 * Oh ! ' said :Mis5 Corke, witli an iiidoscribablo iuHoction of amusement; and then she looked at me over the top of her teacup, as much as to say, '3'ou liad better not go too far ! ' 'Are your father and inotlier living ?' she asked ; and just then I noticed that it was twenty minutes past four by the clock. I answered Miss Corko in the aflirmative, and naturally I was glad to be able to ; but I have often wondered since why that invariable interest in the existence or non-existence of a person's parents should prevail in England as it does. I have seldom been approached by any one in a spirit of kindly curiosity with a different formula. 'Any brothers and sisters?' Miss Corke went on. ' AVlien did you come ? AVhero did you go first ? How long do you mean to stay ? What have you seen ? ])id you expect us to be as we are, or do wo exceed your expec- tations ? Have you ever travelled alone before ? Are you quite sure you like the feeling of being absolutely independent? Don't you love our nice old manners and customs ? and won't you wish when you get back that you could put your Pn si(kMit on a golden throne, with an ermine robe, and a sceptre in his right hand ? ' Miss Corke gave me space bi'tweeu tluse ([uc.-tions for brief answers, but by the time I looked at the clock again, and saw that it was twenty-five minutes past four, t(j llio best of my recollection, she had asked me twelve. I liked it iinmcnselv— it made conversation so easy ; but I could not help thinking, in connection with it, of the capacity for interrogation, which I had always heard credited exclusively to Americans. ' Peter,' said Lady Torquilin at last, a little tired of it, ' ask something about me ; I haven't seen you for weeks.' * Dear lady,' said Peter, ' of course I will. i]ut this is some- 144 y^^ AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON tiling new, you sec, so one takes an oplicmoral — very ephemeral ! — interest in it.' Lady Tonpiilin laughed. ' Well ! ' said she, ' there's nothing more wonderful than the way it gets about alone.' Then I laughed too. 1 did not find anything in the least objectionable in being called an ' it ' l)y ^Hss Corke. 'So vou've been in I'lu'dand a whole month!' said she. *And what do you think you have observed about us? Basing your opinion,' said Miss Corke, with serio-coniicality, ' upon tho fact that we are for your auuiiration, and 'not for your criticism, Low do vou like us ? ' I couldn't help it. ' Individually,' I said, ' I like you fat rli/ well — as a nation, I can't ' ' Oh! ' cried ]\liss Corke, in a little funny squeal, rushing at Lady Torquilin, ' you've gone and told her — you wicked woman !' — and she shook Jjiidy Tor([uilin, a thing I didn't see how she dared to do. ' I can't bear it, and I won't ! Private correspondence — I wonder you're not ashamed!' — and ^liss Corke sank into a chair, and covered her face with her liands and her handkerchief, and squealed again, more comically than before. By the time I had been acquainted with ]\Iiss Corke a fortnight I had leanied to look for that squeal, and to love it. She probably will not know until she reads this chapter Iiow painfully I have tried to copy it, and how vainly, doubtless owing to the American nature of my larynx. But Miss Corke had a way of railing at you that made you feel rather pleased that vou had misbehaved. I could see that it had that effect upon Lady Tonpiilin, though all she did was to smile broadly, and say to ]\nss Peter, ' Hoity-toity ! Have another cup of tea." In the course of further conversation, Miss Corke said tlmt'^ she saw my mind iinist be improved immediately if she had to /h\ AMlZRlCAK GIRL IX IOXDlKV 145 cId it liersL'lf; and where would I like to begin. I said almost iinywhere, I didn't think it much mattered ; iind^Iiss Corkesaid, AW'll, that was candid on my part, and augured favourably, and ' " you WICKKD WcMAN " ' \ \B I archltectn-rurally ineliiird ■." ] said I thonght I was, tea. \ .me; and out came Mi>;.s IVter ("orke's little shriek again, that ' . . ° 'ell her,' she said, prodding J^aily Torquilin, 'that we say id to I 1^6 yiX AMERICAN GIRL AV LONDON '•' nitlier" over Ik.to in tliiit connection ; T don't know lior well enougli.' And I was ol)liL,'od to beg Lfitly Tonjnilin to tell Jirr lliut we said ' some' over tliero in tlnit connection, thonixli not in books, or university lectures, or serio'^s-niindcd magazines. ' Oh, come ! ' said ;^[iss Corke, ' do you mean to say you've got any serious-minded magazines ? ' ' I'll come anywhere you like,' I responded. ' Have you got any light-minded ones ? ' AVhereat ^liss Corkc turned again to Lady Torquilin, and confided to her that I was a flippant young woman to live in the same house with, and Lady Torquilin assured her that thero wasn't really any harm in me — it was only my way. ' H'm ! ' remarked ISIiss Peter, perking up her chin in a manner that made me long to be on kissing terms with her — ' the American way ! ' As I write that it looks disagreeable ; as Petei Corke said it, it was the very nectar and ambrosia of prejudiced and ftivourable criticism. And T soon found out that whatever she might say, her words never conveyed anything but herself — never had any significance, I mean, that your knowledge of her delightful nature did not endorse. ' I suppose we'd better begin with the churches, don't you think?' said i\Iiss Corke to Lady Torquilin. 'Poor dear! 1 dare say she's never seen a proper church ! ' ' Oh, yes! ' I said, 'you have never been in Chicago, Mi^- Corke, or you wouldn't talk like that. "\Vc have several of tli' finest in America in our city ; and we ourselves attend a veiy large one, erected last year, the Congregational — though momii.a has taken up Theosophy considerably lately. It's built in amplii- theatre style, with all the latest improvements — electric liglit. and heated with hot water all through. It will seat five thou- sand people on spring-edged cushions, and has a lovely kitchen i AX AM ERIC AX C/A7, /X I.OXDOX 1-17 fiHncliod for socials!' ' niiilf In tli(> ainpliillicatr** style! rcpi'iitetl Miss Corlvo. 'To seal live llio'isniid pi'i»})le on s[>.rin(^- (5 || *" REMElinEn, YOUKG LADV, TIir.EE-TniRTY — Sliari)'"' h 2 148 AX AMr.RlCAX GIRL IX lOXDOX ('ili;'»'(l cnsliions — willi u kitclu'ii attaclu'd! And now, will yoil tell me inimediatclv wlial u ''social" is?' ' 'I'luTO arc difU'ront kinds, yon know," I replied. ' Ti-e-cream socials, and oyster socials, and ordinary iea-nieetin<^s ; but tliey nearly alwavs have sonie{hin<' to eat in tlieni— a dry social with only a collection never amonnts to nnuli. And they're generally held in the basenient of I lie chureh. and \\\o young ladies oftlie conon wlio had an idea of keeping it '' about "" the tim i had condescended to fix! ' — and ]\liss Corke put down her ])arasol as we (Mitered tin' cloisters, and attem})ted to wither me witli a glance. If the 150 A.V AMERICAN GIRL L\ LONDON glance luul not liad the very joUii'st sniilo of gooil-fellowsliip inside it 1 don't know wliat I should have done, but as it was I didn't v/ithcr : thounfh I re^jrettcd to hear that I had misi-cd the Jerusalem Chamber by being late, where King Henry died — because lie always knew lie should ex})iro in a place of that name, and so fulfilled prophecy, poor dear, by coming to kneel on the cold stone at St. Ivlward's shrine, where he would alwavs say his prayers, and nowhere else, immediately after a number of extraordinary Christmas dinners — and ]\Iiss Corke was not in the least sorry for me, though it was a thing I ought to see, and we positively must come another day to see it. We walked up past the little green square that you see in wide spaces through the side pillars, where the very oldest old monks lie nameless and forgottcMi, whose lives gathered about the foundations of the Abbey — the grey foundations in the gn-y past — and sank silently into its history just as their bodily selves have disappeared long ai^o in the mosses and grasses that cover them. 'No, ]\liss Mamie Wick, of Chicago, I will 9tc»/ hurry ! ' said Miss Corke, ' and neither :-hall you! It is a sacrilege that I will allow no young person in my company to commit — to go through these precincts as if {\\v\v were anything in the world as well worth looking at outside oftluin.' I said 1 didn't want to hunv in the verv lc;isl. ' Aro vou sure vou don't — insiile of vou ? ' f lie demandrd. 'Certain you have ^ o lurking piivate andjition to do the Abbey in two hours and get it over ? Oli, I know you ! I've brought lots of vou here before.' ' I know,' I said, ' as a nation wo do like to get a good deal for our time.' 'It's promising when you acknowledge it' — ^liss Corke laughed. 'All the old abbots used to be buried here up to A.\ AMERICAN GIRL IX LOXPON 151 the time ?f Henry 1J[. ; tliat's proljaMy one of 'cm '—ami Mi^^s Corke's paraf-jol indicated a long, tliick, bliii.sli stone thing lying on its back, with a round lump at cue end and an imitation of features cut on the lump. It lay there very solidly along the \vail, and I tried in vain to get a point of view from which it was expressive of anything whatever. 'One of the early abbots?' said I, because it seemed necessary to say something. ' Probablv,' said ]\Iiss Corke. ' Which particular abbot should you say ? " I a.sked, deferen- tially, for I felt that I was in the presence of something very early English indeed, and that it became me to l)e imprc-^e;!, whether I was or not. 'Oh, I don't know,' ^liss Peter Corke replied. ' Postard, perhaps, or Crispin, or maybe \'italis ; nobody knows.' ' I suppose it would have been easier to tell a while ago,' I said. 'There is something so worn about his face, I sliould think even the othei early abbots would find a didlcalty in recognising him now. Nothing Druidical, I suppose ? ' 'Certainly not. If you are going to be disrespectful,' said ^Miss Corke, 'I shall take you home at once.' AViiereat I pro- tested that I did not dream disrespect — that he looked to me (juite as much like a Druid as anything else. I even veittured to say that, if she had not told me he was an early abbot, I might have taken him for something purely and entirely geological. The whole of this discui-sion took ]dace at wliat stood for the early abbot's feet, and occupied some littli' time; so that, finally, Miss Corke was obliged to tell me that, if there was one thing she couldn't 1 ear, it was dawdling, and would I be ])leased to look at the monumental tablet to Mr. Thomas Thynne, of which .she would relate to me the history. So we paused in frc^nt of it, while ^liss Corke told me how the gentleman in the ba3- 152 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON relief cliariot was Mr. Thomas Thyiine, and the gentleman on liorfceback, shooting at him with ablunderbusp, was Kcinigsmarkj accompanied by his brother; and Kcinigsmark was in the act of killing ]\Ir. Thomas Thynne, with the horses getting unmanage- able, and the two powdered footmen behind in a state of great agitation, because both ]\[r. "^I'liomas "J'hynne and Kcinigsmark were attached to the same lady — a young widow lady with a great deal of money- — and she liked ^Ir. Tliomas Tliynne best, which was more than ^Ir. Kuniyfsmark could bear. So ^Ir. Kiinigsmark first swore properly that he would do it, and then did it — all in Pall !Mall, when ]\[r. Thomas was in the very act of driving homo from paying a visit to the widow. It was a most affecting story, as Peter Corke told it, especially in the presence of the memorial with a white uiarblo Cupid pointing to it, erected by Mr. Thynne's bereaved relatives ; and I was glad to hear that the widow had nothincf to do with ]\Ir. Konijj^smark afterwards, in spite of the simplicity and skill of his tactics with regard to his rival. I thought the history of the event quite in- teresting enough in itself, but Miss Corke insisted that the point about it really wortliy of attention was the fact that the younger 3Ir. Konigsmark was the gentleman who afterwards went back- to Hanover, and there ilirted so disgracefully with Sophia Dorothea of Zell that King George said he wouldn't have it, aiul shut her ui) in A]ild(Mi "Slower for thirtv-two years. Miss Corke explained it all in a di'lightl'ul kindergarten way, mentionintjr volum(»s for !iiv rcri'i'.'iici' if 1 wanted to hiiow nmre about the incident. ' Although this,' she said, ' is the soi I of thing you ought to have been improving your mind with ever since you learned to read. I don't know what you mean by it, coming over here with a vast unbroken field of ignorance about our celebrities. Do you think time began in 1770?' i\t which AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 153 I retaliated, and f^aid that far IVom being an improving incident, I wasn't sure that it was altogetlier respectable, and I didn't know of a single church in Chicago that would admit a bas- relief of it, with or without a mourning Cupid. In return to which ]\[issCorko> could find nothing better to say than 'Lawks!' ' Don't tell me you've read I he " Spectator ! "' ' she remarked a little farther on, ' because I know you haven't — you've read nothing but AV. I), llowells ami the " New York AVorld ! "' Oh, you have? Several essays! AVhen, pray ? At school — I thought sr ! When you couldn't help it! Well, I know you've forgotten Sir Roger de Coverley, in the Abbey, stopping Addison here, to tell him that nuui thrashed his grandfather! His own grandfather, you know, not Addison's!' And wo contemplated the studious efligy of Dr. I'usby until I told ^liss Corke that I wanted to be tnken to the Poets' Corner. ' Of course you do,' said she ; ' there are rows of Americans there now, sitting looking mournful and thinking up rpiotations. If I wanted to find an American in London, I should take up my position in the Poets' Corner until he arrived, ^'ou needn't apologise — it's nothing to your discredit,' renuirked Miss Cork(% as we turned in among your wonderful crumbling old names, past the bust of George Grote, historian of Greece. ' Of course, you have heard of his lady-wife,' she said, nodding at ]\[r. Grote. I ventured the statement that she was a very remarkable person. ' Well, she was ! ' returned Miss Corke, 'though that's a shot in the dark, and you might as well confess it. One of i]iG most remarkable women of her time. All the biographers of the dtiy wrote about her — as you ought to know, iitfiniatelii. I have the honour of the acquaintance of a niece of hers, who told me the other day that she wasn't particularly fond of her, (Jreat iudepeudence of character J ' 154 AM AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON '^Vllel•e is Cliaucer?' I asked, -wishing to begin at the beginning. ' Just like every one of you that I've ever brought here ! ' Miss Corkc exclaimed, leading the way to the curious old rectangular grey tomb in the wall. ' The very best — the very oldest — immediately ! Such impatience I never saw ! There now — make out that early Englisli lettering, if you can, and be j)roperly sorry that you've renounced your claim to be proud of it ! ' ' I can't make it out, so I'll think about being sorry later,' I said. ' It is certainly very remarkable ; lie might almost have written it himself. Now, where is Shakespeare ? ' ' Oh, certainly ! ' exclaimed ^liss Corko. ' This way. And after that you'll declare you've seen them all. But you miirlit just take time to understand that you're walking over " rare Jien Jonson ! " who is standing up in his old bones down there as straight as you or I. Insisted — as you probably are not aware — on being buried that way, so as to be ready when Gabriel blows his trumpet in the morning. I won't say that ho hasn't got his coat and hat on. Yes, that's Samuel — I'm glad you didn't say Wvw was tlu^ lexicographer. Milton — certainly — it's kind of you to notice him. Blind, you re- niembin*. 'i'he author of several works of some reputation — in Kn Inland.' ' I knew he was blind,' I said, ' and used to dictate to his daughters. AW's have a picture of it at home.' I made this remark very innocently, and Miss Corke looked at me with a comical smile. ' IJless it and save it ! ' she said, and then, with an attempt at a reproach, ' What a humbug it is ! ' We looked at Shakespeare, supreme among them, predicting solemn dissolution out of ' The Tempest,' and turned from liim A.y A ME RICA X GIRL IN LONDON 155 •we looked at shakespkaui:, supreme among tiikm ' IS6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON to Gay, wlioso final reckless word I read with as much astonisli- ment as if I had never heard of it before. Life's ii ji :-t, and all tliinjrs sliow it ; 1 thought so once, iVnd now I know it, has no significance at nil read in an American school-book two thousand miles, and a hundred and fifty years from the writer of it, compared with the grim shock it gives you when you see it actually cut deep in the stone, to be a memorial always of a dead man somewhere not far awav. ' That you should have heard of Nicholas Uowe,' said ^liss Corke, ' is altogether too much to expect. Dear me ! it would be considerably easier to improve your mind if it had ever been tried before. But he was poet-laureate for George the First — you understand the term ? ' 'I think so,* I said. 'They contract to supply the Iloyal Family with poetry, by the vear, at a salary. We have nothing of the kind in America. You see our Presidents differ so. They might not all lik<' pjetry. And in that case it would be wasted, for there isn't a magazine in the country that would take it second-hand.' ' ].iesides having no poets who could do it properly, poor ' " life's a jest, and ALli THINliS snow IT ; I TiroronT so once, and now i KNOW IT " ' Ah" A}iEl'aCAX CIRL IN i. ON DON 157 things ! ' said ^fissCorke — to wliicli T acct'dt'cl witlioiit dinicuUy. ' Well, Mr. llowc was a poot-laun'ati', though that has nothing whatever to do with it. JJut he had a great friend in Mr. 1V)[)0 — Pope, you know him — by reputation — and when he and his daughter died, ^fr. ]^opo and Afrs. Howe felt so bad about it that lie wrote those mournful lines, and she had 'em put up. Now listen ! — To tlinse so mourned in deatli, so lovM in lifi', The childless parent and the witlowcd wile— meanin*? the same ladv: it was only a neat wav tlit^v had of doubling up a sentiment in those days ! — With tears inscribes this monumental stone, That holds their ashes and expects her own 1 and everybody, including ^fr. I'ope, thought it perfectly sweet at tlie time. 'J'lien what does this degenerate widow do, after giving !Mr. Pope every reason to believe that she would fuUil his poetry ? ' ' She marries again,' I said. ^ Quite right ; she marries again. Put you needn't try to impose upon me, miss ! To come to that conclusion you didn't require any previous information whatever! She marries again, and you can't think how it vexed Mr. Pope.' 'I know,' I said, ' he declared that was the last of his lend- ing the use of his genius to widows ' — for 1 had to assume some knowledge of the subject. !Mis3 Corke looked at me. ' You iiljlt ! ' she said. ' lie did nothing of the sort.' 'Michael Drayton!' I read amongst oth(>r names which surprised mo by their unfamiliarity ; for in America, whatever Peter Corke may say, if wo have a strong point, it is names — l5i^ A.y AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON * wlio was ^IIcliJicl DiMvlnii? jiiid wliy w.-is //«■ onlitlcd to fl bu.st ? ' ' lie wroh' tim '• l\)lyoll)i()ii,'' ' suKl Misi Corki', Jis il" llitit were all thciv was to say about it. * Do you know,' I .saiil — ' I am asluinu'd to confess it, but even of so well-known and interesting a work of genius ns the ** Polyolbion '' I have romniitted very few pages to memory ! ' 'Oh!' returned ^Fiss Peti'r, 'you're getting nnb>\'irable ! There's a lovely epitaph for you, of Edmund Spenser's, " whoso divine spirrit needs noe othir witnesse than the workes which he left behind him." You will kindlv make no ribald remarks about the spelling, as I perceive you are thinking of doing. Try and remember that we taught you to spell over there. And when Edmund Spenser was buried, dear damsel, there came a company uf poets to the funeral — Shakespeare, doubt- less, among them — and cast into his grave all manner of elegies.' ' Of their own composition ?' I inquired. ' Stupid ! — certainly ! And the pens that wrote them ! ' I said I thought it a most beautiful and poetic thing to have done, if they kept no copies of the poems, and asked ^liss Corke if she believed anything of the kind would be possible now. ' Bless you ! ' she replied. ' In the first place, there aren't the poets ; in the second place, there isn't the hero-worship ; in the third place, the conditions of the poetry-market arc dif- ferent nowadays — it's more expensive than it used to be ; the poets would prefer to send wreaths from the florist's — you can * get quite a n;ce one for twelve-and-six ; ' and JVter Corke made a little grimace expressive of disgust with the times, ' Wo AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 159 tisetl to li;iV(' ;ill ))(>i'fs iiiid no ])ul)lic, iiow we li;ivt' all i)iiljlic and no pootsi' she dt't-larcd, 'now that Ac is o;(>ii(<--nn(l Tennyson can't live for over.' Miss Corke pointod with lior parasol to a iianio in \\\\> stone close to my ri^dit foot. I had been looking about me, and above me, and everywhere but there. As I read it I took my foot away quickly, and went two or three paces off. It was so uidooked-for, that name, so new to its association with death, that I stood aside, held by a sudden sense of intrusion. IFe had always been so hi<,'h and so far off in the privacy of his genius, so revered in his solitudes, so unapproachable, that it took one's l)reath away for the moment to have walked unthinkingly over the grave of Robert Browning. It seemed like taking an advantage one would rather not have taken — even to stand aside and read the plain, strong name in the floor, and know that he, having done with life, had been brought there, and left where there could Ijc no longer about him any wonderings or any surmises. ^liss Corke told me that sbe knew him, ' as one can say one knows such a man,' and how kindly his interest was in all that the ordinary people of his acquaintance like herself were thinking and doing; but the little, homely stories she related to me from her personal knowledge of him seemed curiously without relevance then. Nothing mattered, except that he who had epitomised greatness in his art for the century lay there beneath his name in the place of greatness. And then, immediately, from this grave of yesterday, there came to me light and deiinition for all the graves of the day before. It stole' among the quaint lettering of the inscriptions, and into the dusty corners of the bas-reliefs, and behind all the sculptured scrolls and laurels, and showed me what I had somehow missed seeing sooner — all that shrined honour means in England; and just iu that one little corner iCo AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON liONV f,n*o.it lidr possesHionH are! !Mis.s Corko said sotnetlilti^ al)()iit tlio royal tombs ami tlio coronation chair, and the ^vax; clfigics in the chamber al)ovo the Islip Chapel, and getting on ; l)iit, ' if yon don't mind,' I said, ' I should like to sit down hero for a while with the other Americans and think.* (r II An AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON i6i XV T is said tliat tliere are four liuiulretl people in New York wlio are exclusive, and tliero are a few more on l^eacon Hill in Boston, and in Philadelphia. But most Ameri- cans are opposed to exclusiveness. I know that nothing of the sort flourishes in Chicago. Generally and individually, Americans be- lieve that every man is as good as his neighbour ; and we take pains to proclaim our belief when- ever the subject of class distinction is under discussion. Poppa's views, however — representing those of the i^iajority in an individual, as we hope they soon may do in a senator — are strongly against any theory of exclusiveness whatever. And I will say for poppa, that his principles are carried out in his practice; for, to my knowledge, neither his retirement froju busi- ness and purchase of a suburban lakeside residence, nor even liis nomination for the Senate, has made the slightest diti'erenco in his treatment of any human being. And yet Americans coming over here with all their social theories in their trunks, Bo to speak, very carefully packed to be ready at a moment's liotice, very seldom seem to find a use for them in England. I Vas brought up, you mi^ht say, on poppa's, and momma agreed M 1 62 AX AM ERICA X CIRL IX LOXDOX Willi liliu oil most points, with the one qiuilliicatiou tliat, if you cuiiUlii't have nice society, it was niucli better to go without any — 'Scarce company, ^velcolne trumpery!' momma always declared would never be her motto. Vet since I have been in l"]nglaiid 1 have hardly had occasion to refer to them at all. 1 listened to an American author about it a while ago, before 1 had any inienliou of writing my own English experiences, and he said the reason Americans liked the exclusiveness over liere w.is because its operation gave them such perfect types to study, each of its own liitlo circle; while at homo we are a great inde- terminate, shifting mass, and a person who wanted to know us as a nation must know us very largely as individuals first. I thought that might be a very good reason for an author, especially for an author who liked an occasional cup of tea with a duchess; but I was not sure tliat it could be claimed by a person like myself, only over on a visit, and not for any special purpose of biological research. So I went on liking the way you shut sonie people out and let other people in, without inrpdring further as to why I did — it did not seem profitable, especially when I reflected that my point of view was generally from the inside. ^My d;.mocratic principles are just the same as ever, though — a person needn't always approve wliat she likes. I shall take them b;^ck quite unimpaired to a country where they rve indispensable- vvhere you really want them, if you are going to be comfortable, every day of your life. Nevertheless, I know it was the * private ' part of the ' Private View ' that made mo so anxious to go to the Academy on the first da^ of ^May this year. The pictures would be there t)ie second day, and the day following, and days indefinitely after that, and for a quarter of u dollar I could choose my own time and ci''cumstj'nce3 of going to see them. I might, weather AN ami: /UC. IX i.IRL IX LOXDOX 163 ponnitting, have taken my 'view' of tlie Academy in llie puli- licity of five or six otlier pv'ople wlio, like me, would have paid a sliillinij^ a-]")iece to get in; l)iit I found ' 'If iiri'lirriiig tlie privacy of tlio five or six: hundred who did not pay - ]nvferring it immenselv. Besides, I liad licard all mv life of llu' • Private A'iew.' livery year there' are special cablegrams ahout it in our newspapers — who were there, and what they wore — g-eiierally to the extent of at least a column and a half. Our special cor- respondents in London glory in it, and rival each other, adjec- tivally, in describing it. Lady Torquliin had been talking about it a good deal, too. She said it was ' a thing to see,' and sho meant to try to get me an invitation. Lady 'J'orfpiilin went every year. Lut when the thirtii'th day of April came, Lady 'l\)r(|nllin told me in the evening, after dinner, that she hadn't been able to manage it, and showed me the cai'd upon which the ' I 'resilient and Mendjers of the Koyal Academy of Arts •' n-cpiested '" the pleasure of the company of Lady Torqiiilin,' only, 'Not trans- ferable.' 'It's very tiresome of them,' said Lady 'j'oriiuilin. 'to put that on. It means that you positively must not givo it to any- bodv. Otherwise I would have handed it over to vou, chiKl, with the greatest pleasure — I don't i-are a pin's i)oint about U'oiui', and vou could have jjone with the I'astelle-Jirowns. IJut there it is ! ' Of course, nothincr would have iiuluced me \o take l.adv Torquilin's invitation, and de])ri\-e lu'r of the pleasure of going; but I pinned her veil at the back, and saw her otf down tho elevator, next day at two, with an inti'usity of regret which cannot come often in the coursi' of an ordinary lifetime. I was describing my feelings in a letter, addressed, I think, to Mr. M 2 ^^isiji:. ' oun srECLVL coriiespondekts GLonv ih ii ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 165 Wiuterliazel, when, abouc an hour later, Lady Torqnilin appeared again, flii.slied witli exertion, and sank panting into a chair. ' Get ready, cliild ! ' said slie. ' I'd wear vour tailor-made : those stairs will kill nie, but there was— no time — to waste on the b"ft. I can get you in — hurry up your cakes ! ' 'But aiu I iuvited?' I askt-d. ' Certainly you are— by a Jioval Aeadeinieian in person— so /// •' ' I flew, and in twenty minutes Lady Tonpiilin and I were engaged in our usual altercation with a cabman on tlu^ wav to Burlington House. AVhen he had got his cab and animal well into a block in J'ond Street, and nothing of any sort could possibly happen without the sanction of aJove-like policeman at the crossing. Lady Torquilin took the ojiportunity of telling mo liow it was that she was able to come for me. ' "^'ou see,' she said, 'the very first person 1 had the good luck to meet when [ Avent in was Sir Bellamy JJelhuny— you remendier Sir Bellamy Bellamy at the .Mintherringtons? I tell you frankly that I wouldn't have mentioned it, my dear, unless he had first, thongh 1 knew perfectly well that what Sir IJelhimv JJellamv can't do in that Academy simply can't be done, for you know I'm the last one to /nish ; but he did. '• "Where is your young fi-iend ? ' said he. Then 1 took my chance, and told him Iiow I'd asked that old screw of a Af(mkhoiise Diddlinirton for two, and oulv <'-ot one, and how I couldn'l possibly give ir to vdu because it was printed ''Not transferable," and Jiow disa])pointed y< nice about it. '• My dear Lady 'ronpiihii,' he said, "we were cliildren together, and von never came to mc I should have been ddvjiiled ! " ' '' Well," I said, " Sir Bellamy, can't we do anything jdjoufc it now ? " " It's ratlier late in the day," said lie. " It h lato iu i65 AX AM/UaCAX (//A'A /.\' LOMJOX the day,"' said I. " Oli, I s;!y ! "' said ho, ''sli;- imisj, come ifi^ho wants to — any friend of yours, l^ady 'I'orjiiiilin" — siicli a hum- bug as tlu^ man is! ''it's ;i l)il irreL^'ulai','" he went on, '-and wc won't sav an\ thiu'^ abonl i(, hut it vou like to }j:o and yet I lier, and see lliat slie carri 's fliis in with lier" (lioiv Lady 'JV>r- i quilin ]irc)duced a fat. palc-hlue c'atal(>,Lrui> hook), '" tliere won't bo anv difhcuUv. 1 f'aiicv."' So tliere vou are, Miss AVick, pro- ! vided with Sir IJellamy Ijellamy's own catalogue to admit you — initdt's not a eom])limenf, I don't know wliat is! ' j 'I don't feel as if I had Leen properly invited,' I said; ' I'r.i ^ afraid I ou^'htn't to fjro, F.ady Tonpiilin.' ' Kuhhish, ehild ! ' said she. ' Do vou want them to send a deputation for vou ? ' And afii'r that, what could I sav ? *lfold up your head, and look perfectly indilfercnt,' advist^l Lady 'I'onpiilin, as our hansom deposited us in the courtyard Ijcforo the outer steps. ' Don't grasp that cataK)gue as if i( »• were a l»anner; carry it carelessly. Now follow me.' And liady 'I'orfpiilin, wilh great dignity, a sense of rectitude, and a catalogue to which she was proju'rly entitled, followed by me with vague apprelu'usions, a bad conscience, and a catalogue that didn't belong to nn\ walked intolhe Private A'iew. Nobody said anything, though i fancied one of the two old gentlemen in crimson and black by the door looked knowingly at the other when 1 passed, as much as to say : ' About that tailor-made there is sonu'thing fraudulent.' J say 1 'fancied,' though at the time I was certain they did, because my iuuigination, of course, may iuive liail something to do with it. 1 know 1 was very glad of the shelter of iiady 'I'orcpiilin's unimpeachable respecta- bility in front. ' 'J'liere now,' she said, when we were well into | the crowd, 'we're both here, and it's much nicer, isn't it, dear':" than for you to come with strangers, even if I could liave made ylX AMF.h'/CAX GIRL L\ Ia^XPOX 167 up my mind iliat it was rii^lit ^yn' you to he iulniif Ud t)n a ticket plainly marked "not transferablo "— wliicli f really don't think, dear. I should have 1)een aMe to do.' We moved aindessly with the throng, and were immediately overtaken and possesced by the spirit that seemed to be abroad — a spirit of wondtT and criticism and speculation and searching, that first embraced our nearest neighbours, went ofl' at random to a curiously-dressed person in perspective, focussed upon a celebrity in a corner, and spent ilself in the shifting crowd. Lady Torqnilin bade mo consider whether in all my life before I had ever seen such remarkable gowns, and I was obliged to con- fess that I had not. Some of them were beaut iful, and some were not ; many were what you so very properly and aptly call ' smart,' .ind a few were artistic. All of them, pretty and ugly, I might have encountered at home, but there was one species of ' frock ' which no American, I think, could achieve with impunity. It was a protest against conventionalism, very much gathered, and usually presented itself in colours unattainable out of a London fog. It almost always went with a rather discouraged-looking lady having a bad complexion, and hair badly done up ; and, invariably, it dragged a little on one side. I don't know exactly why that kind of dress would b > an impossible adjunct to the person of an American woman, but I am disposed to believe there is a climatic reason. We have so much sun and oxygen in the United States that I think they get into our ideas of clothes ; and a person upholstered in the way I have mentioned would very likely find herself specially and tli-' peel fully described in the newspipers. Ibit J do not wish to Oe thought impertinent about the development of this particular English dress ideal. It has undoubted points of interest. I had a better opportunity of observing it at the Academy Soiree in June, when i68 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON it sliccl abrofid tlie suggestion of a Tennysonian idyll left ont all niglit. Latly Torquilin had just pointed out to mo two ducliessef; : one large and round, wlio was certainly a duchess hy mistake, and the other tall and beautiful, -svith just such a curved upper lip as a duchess ought to have, and a coronet easily imnginablo under her bonnet, and wo were talking about them, "svhen I saw somebody I knew. He was a middle-aged gentleman, and I had a very interesting association with his face, though I couldn't for the moment remember his name or where I had met liini, I told Lady Torquilin about it, with the excited eagerness that a person always feels at the sight of a familiar face in a foreign land. ' >Somo friend of poppa's, I am certain,' I said ; and although I had only Iiad a glimpse of him, and immediately lost him in the crowd, wo decided to walk on in that direction in the hope of seeing him again. He reappeared at a distance^ and again we lost him ; but we kept on, and while Lady Torquilin {stopped to chat with her numerous acquaintances I looked out carefully for my father's friend. .1 knew that as soon as he t'aw me he would probably come up at once and shake hands, and then the name would come back to me ; and I yearned to ask a thousand things of (Miicago. We came face to face with him unexpectedlv, and as his eve ciuLilit mine careles^dv it dawned upon mo that the last time I hud seen him it was ivA in a long grey overcoat and a ailk liat — there was sometliif/g incongruous in that. Ah-o, I reniendjered an insolent grl/zled chin and great duplicity. ' Oh ! ' I said to Lady Tonpiilin, ' I don't know him at all ! It's ' * It's Mr. Bancroft ! ' said Lady Torquilin. ' ^Vho is Mr. Bancroft ? ' said I. ' It's the Abbe Latour ! ' I had enjoyed 'The Dead Heart' so much a fortnight before, but I was glad I did not bow before I recognised that it was \\ AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 169 gentleman w'ltli wliom I li;ul tlii> lionoiir of possessing only len- aiul-sIxponc(^ worth of ac(|u;iintan('i\ I saw the various scandals of the year as well. Lady Torquilin mentioned them, just i'O call my attention to their dresses, generally giving her opinion that there liad been altotrether too much said about the mattiM*. Ladv Torquilin did not know many of the litiM'ary people who were present, but she indicated ^fr. Anstey and ^\\\ "William Ulack, whoso woi'ks arc extreuu'ly popular with \\'>^ and it was a particular pleasure to be able to describe them when I wrote home next day. I wanted to see Mr. Oscar AViKle very especiiLlly, but somebody told Jiady ^roniiilliii he was at the Crosvenor — 'and small loss, I consider! ' said she ; ' he's just like any other man, dear child, onlv with more nonsense in his head than most of them!' Ihit it was not iu the nature of thiugs or people that Lady Tonpiilin should like Mr. Oscar AVilde. ]5efon' we went she showed mo two or three lady-jtnu'nalists busy takiug notes. ' 'Phere's that nice ^liss Jay IVune,' said Lady Ton|uiliu. 'I know all the -lav IViines — such a li^erarv familv! And Miss Jay IVnne always wauls to know wluit I've got on. I thiidv I nmst just spealc to her, dc. ;, if you don't miiul waiting ono moment ; and I h^n w. 'II <>o. 'She asked alMiiil, yoii, too^ de;u',' said my friend when she rejoined mi", with a lilt!'' iindg.' o'" e'lUgrat uiat ion. I should, perlia[)s, iia\t' staled brfori' t h:it I hi iv were a nuudur of artists walking around trviu''- to la'cp awav IVoui tiieir own pictures; but this 1 gathered of mysell', ft.i', with the exception of Sir Bellamy ]>ellamy, who had gout* away. Lady 'rorquilin did not know anv of them. I noticed, too, that the walls of the rooms we were in were covereil with pitrtui-es, i)ut they did not seem to have anything to do with the Private \'iew. 170 /i.V AMLKJCA.X OIKL JN LO.XDON XVI \\^W\ ^^ ^DY POWDERBY'S ball ■ ~^" rl"""^^ was the first I attended in I % A> London, and therefore, I I \m su])pose, made the strongest tJtkmmammtmmitUi impression upon me. It was quite different from a Chicago ball, though the differences were so intangible — not consisting at all in the supper, or tlie music, or the dresses, or tlie decorations — that I am by no AX AMERICA X GIRL IX I.OXDOX 171 means sure that I can explain tluMn ; so 1 bc^^ that you will not be disappointed if you fail to learn from my idea t)f a liondon ball wliat a Chicafjfo ball is like. It is very easy for you to find out personally, if you liappen to be in Chicago. We went in a four-wheeler at about eleven o'clock, and as the driver dri'W up before the strip of carpet that led to the door, the first thint^that struck me was the little crowd of peoph^ standing waiting on either side to watch the guests go in. I never saw that in Chicago — that patience ciul self-abnegation. I don't tliink the frecborn American citizen would find it con- sistent with his dignity to hang about the portals of a party to which he had not been invited. He would take pains, on the contrary, to shun all appearance of wanting to go. Inside 1 expected to find a crowd — 1 think balls are gene- rally crowded wherever they are given ; ])ut I also expected to be able to get through it, in which for quite twenty minutes [ was disappointed. JJoth Lady Tonpiilin and I m;ide u[) our minds, at one time, to spend the rest of the evening in our wraps; but just as we had abandoned ourselves to this there came a breaking and a parting among the people, Jind a surgi^ in one direction, which Lady Torquilin explained, as we took advantage of it, by the statiMuent that the suj)per-room had been opened. Li the cloak-room several ladies were already preparing for dc^parture. 'Do you suppose they are illy' I asked Lady 'l\)r(|uilin, as we stood together, while two of the maids repaired our damages as far as they were able. ' Why do they go Iiouk^ so early ? ' ' 7/ume, child!' said Jiady 'Jonpiilin, with a withering emphasis. ' They're going on ; J daresay they'\-e got a couple more dances a-piece to put in an appearance at to night.' Lady 172 AX AMERICAN GIRL LV LONDON Torqnilln did not approve of what she called 'excessive riot/ and ni'ViT accepti'd more than one invitation an evening; ko I was nnfainiliar with London ways in this respect. I'resently I had anotlur ohject-lesson in the periion of a lady who came in and gave her cloak to the attendant, saying, * ]*iit it where you can get it easily, please. Ill want it again in a quarter of an liour.' I tliought as I looked at her that social pleasures must be to such an one simply a series of topographical experiments. I also thought I should have somctliing to say when next I heard of the hurry and high pressure in which Americans lived. ' It's of no use,' said Lady Torquilin, looking at the stairs ; * we c:\n never get i:p ; we might as well go with tlie rest and ' ' Jfave some supper,' added somebody close behind us ; and Lady Tonjuilin said: 'Oh, Charlie ]\[atrerton ! ' though why she should have been surprised was more than I could inuigine, for Charlie Matlerton was nearly always at hand. Wherever we went to — at honu's, or concerts, or the theatre, or sight-sei'ing, in any direction, ^Ir. ^lallerton turned up, eitlu'r expectedly (»r unexpectedly, with great precision, and his manner toward Lady Tortpiiliii was always as devoted as it could be. I have not mentioned him often before in describing my experiences, and shall probably not mention him often again, because after a time I began to take liiui for granted as a detail of almost every- thing we did. liady Torquilin seemed to like it, so I, of course, had no right to object; and, indei'd, 1 did not particularly mind, because Mr. ^fafferton was always nice in his manner to me, and often very interesting in his remarks. But if Lady Torquilin had not told me that she had known him in short clothes, and if I liad jiot been ixn-fectl^ certain she was liir tpo sejisibl^ to AN AM En tc Ay: cini. tx i.oxdox 173 p^lvo Tier jifTi'd ions io a ixtsou so much younjjfcr lliaii lirrsclf, I clon't know what I would liavo thouL^lit. So W(3 wt'iit witli tlio rest and had soini' supix-r, and, In llio anxious interval during' which Lfidy 'ronjuilin and I ot-cuiilcd a position in the doorway, and Mr. MalU'rton reconnoitred for ono of the littl') round tables, 1 n'd what liad Ix'cn pu/.zlinLC nio so ahout the house ever since 1 had come into it. Except for the peo})le, and the flower di'corations, and a few chairs, it- was absolutely empty. The i)eople furnished it, so to speMk, .novinj? about in the hrilliancv of their dresses and diamonds, and the variety of their manners, to such an extent that I had not been able to particularise before what I felt was lacking to this ball. It was a very curious lack — all the crewel-work, nnd Japanese bric-a-brac, and flower lamp-shades, that j^oto make up a home; and the substitute for it in the piy lights and ilowers, and exuberant supper-table, and dense mass of people, «j^ave mo the feeling of having been permitted to avail myself of a Ijrillianfc opportunity, rather than of being invited to share the hospitality of Lady Torrpiilln's friendfj. ' Has Lady Powderby just moved in ?* I asked, as wo sat down around tw(3 bottles of champagne, a lot of things iilnc'cs, a triple arrangement of knives and forks, and a pyramid ot apoplectic strawberries. 'Lady I'owderby doesn't live liere,' Lady Tonpiilln s:ud. 'No, Charlie*, tlinnk you — sweets fur you young ])eoj>K> if you like — savouries for me!' and my friend exi)lained \o me that Lady Powderby wns 'at homo' at this particular address only for this ])articular evening, and had probably paid a good many guineas house-rent for the night ; after which I tried in vain to feel a sense of p;'rsonal gratitude for my strawberries, which I was not privih^gcd even to cat with my hostess's fork — though, 174 '^A^ AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON of course, I knew tliat this was mere sentiment, and that prac- tically I "vvas as much indebted to Lady Powderby for her strawberi'ies as if she had grown them herself. And, on general grounds, I was reall}^ glad to have had tlie chance of attending this kind of ball, which had not come within my experience before. I don't think it would occur to anybody in Chicago to hire an empty house to give an entertainment in ; and though, now that I think of it, j\dmer's Hotel is certainly often utilised for this purpose, it is generally the charity or benevolent society liop that is given there. During supper, while Lady Torquilin was telling Mr. Maffer- ton how much we had enjoyed the ' Opening,' and how kind liis cousin had been, I looked round. I don't know whether it is proper to look round at a ball in England — it's a thing I nrver should have thought of doing in Chicago, where I knew exactly what I slio', ■' see if I did look round — but the im- personal nature of L-ad}^ Powderby's ball gave "le a sense of irresponsibility to anybody, and the usual code of manners seemed a vague law, without any particular applicability to present circumstances. And I was struck, much struck, with the thorough business-like concentration and singleness of purpose that I saw about me. The people did not seem much acquainted, except by twos and threes, and ignored each other, for the rncsfc part, in a calm, high-level way, that was really educating to see. But they were not without a common senti- ment and a common aim — they had all come to a ball, where it devolved upon them to dance and sup, and dance again — to dance and sup as often as possible, and to the greatest possible advan- tage. This involved a measuring-up of what there was, which seemed to be a popular train of thought. There Avas no undue levity. If a joke had been made in that supper-room it would AX A.] f ERIC AX GIRL IX lOXDOX 175 have exploded more violently tli:m t^o cluuiipagne-Lottles. Indeed, there was as great and serious decorum as Avas possible among so many human beings who all required to be fed at once, with several changes of plates. I observed a great deal of be- haviour and a great similarity of it — the gentlemen were alike, and the ladies were alike, except that some of the ladies were a little like the gentlemen, and some of the gentlemen were a little like the ladies. This homogeneit\ was remarkable to me, considerincf how few of them seemed to have even a bowinuf acquaintance with each other. But the impressive thing was the solid unity of interest and action as regarded the supper. We struggled upstairs, and on the first landing met a lady- relation of our hostess, with whom Lady Torquilin shook hands. ' You'll never find her,' said this relation, referring to Lady ]^o\vderby. 'The Dyngeleys, and the I'orterhouses, and the Bangley Coffins have all come and gone without seeing her.' But I may just state here that we did find her, towards morning, in time to say good-bye. When I say that the floor of Lady Powderby's (temporary) ball-room was full, I do not adequately express the fact. It was replete — it ran over, if that is not too impulsive an expression for the movement of the ladies and gentlemen who were twirling round each other upon the floor, all in one direction, to the music. With the exception of two or three couples, whose excited gyration seemed ([uite tipsy by contract, the ball upstairs was going on with the same profound and determined action as the ball downstairs. I noticed the same universal look of concentration, the same firm or nervous intention of properly discharging the responsibilities of the evening and the numbers of the programme, on the face of the sweet, fresh dC'hatante^ steadily getting pinker ; of the middle-aged, 176 AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON inilitmy man, dancing liko a disjointed foot-rnle; of ti.c stout old lady in crimson silk, very low in the neck, who sat against ' i)A^•cI^;a like a disjointed foot-hule ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 177 tlie wall. The popular theory seciiicd to be that the dancing was something to be Done — tlie consideration of enjoyment brought it to a lower plane. And it was an improving sight, thouo'h sad. !Mr. ]\rafferton asked me for Xumbers seven, and nine, and eleven — all waltzes. I knew \\o would be obliufcd to, out of politeness to Lady Torquilin, who had got past daneing iiersclf; but I had been dreadino- it all the time I siieut in wateliinijr the other men go round, while Mr. ]\ralferton sought for a chair for her. So I suofo-ested that we should trv Nundjer seven, and see how we got on, ignoring the others, and saying something weakly about my not haviug danced lor so long, and feeling absolutely certain that I should not be able to acquit myself with the erectness — to speak of nothing else — that seemed to be imperative at Lady Powderby's ball. ' Oh ! I am sure we shall do very -w; 11,' said ]\[r. ]\[afFerton. And we started. I admire English dancing. I am accustomed to it now, and can look at a roomful of people engaged in it without a sym- pathetic attack of vertigo or a crick in my neck. I think it is, perhaps, as good an exposition of the unbending, unswerving quality in your national character as could be found anywhere, in a small way ; but I do not think an American ought to tamper with it without preliminary training. Mr. Mafferton and I started — he with confidence, I wi(h indecision. You can make the same step with a pair of scissors as Mr. ]\Iafrerton made ; I did it afterwards, when I explained to Lady Tor({uilIn how impossible it was that I should have danced nine and eleven with him. Compared with it I felt that mine was a caper, and the height of impropriety. You will argue from this that they do not N 178 AA AMERICAN GIRL JN LONDON go together well ; and that is quite correct. "We in- serted ourselves into the moving mass, and I went hopelessly round the Maypole that Mr. Mafferton seemed to have turned into, several tiraeK. Then the room began to reel. ' Don't you think we Iiad better reverse ? ' I asked ; ' I am getting dizzy, I'm afraid.' Mr. Mafferton stop- ped instantly, and the room camerififhtau-ain. ' Reverse ? ' he said ; I don't think I ever heard of it. I thought we were getting on capitally ! ' And when I ex- '"BEVERSK?" HE SAID; "l DON't THINK I EVKU HEARD OF IT " ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 179 plained to him that reversing!' meant tui'ninijf round, and eroinir the other way, he declared that it was quite impracticable — that we Avould knock everybody el^e over, and that he had never seen it done. After the last argument I did not press the matter. It took very little acquaintance with ]\[r. ^TafTerton to know that, if he had never seen it done, he never would doit. 'We Avill try going back a bit,' he proposed instead; with the result that after the next four or five turns \w. began to stalk away from me, going I knew not whither. About four minutes later we went back, at my urgent request, to Lady Torquilin, and Mr. ]\[afferton told her that we had * hit it off admirably.' I tliink ho must have thought we did, because he said something about not having been quite able to catch mj'-step at first, in a way that showed entire satisfaction with his later performance ; which was quite natural, for ]\Ir. Mafferton was the kind of person who, so \ow<-x as lie was dointr his best himself, would hardly be aware whether anybody else was or not. I made several other attempts with friends of Lady Torquilin and Mr. Mafferton, and a few of them were partially successful, though I generally found it advisable to sit out the latter parts of them. This, when room could be found, wns very amusing; and I noticed that it was done all the way up two flights of stairs, and in every other conceivable place that offered two seats contiguously. I Avas interested to a degree in one person with whom I sat out two or three dances running, lie was quite a young man, not over twenty-four or live, I should think — a nephew of Lady Torquilin, and an oflicer in the Army, living at Aldershot, very handsome, and wore an eyeglass, which was, however, quite a common distinction. I must tell you more about him again in connection with the day Lady Torquilin and N 2 i8o AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON I spent at Aldorsliot at his invitation, because lie really deserves a chapter to liimself. But it was he who told me, at Lady Powderby's ball, referring to the solid mass of humanity that packed itself between us and the door, that it was witli the greatest difficulty that he finally gained the ball-room. 'Couldn't get in at all at first,' said he, 'and while I was standin' on the outside edge of the pavement, a bobby has the confounded impudence to tell me to move along. ' " Can't,"" ' says I—" I'm at the party." ' I have always been grateful to the Aldershot officer for giving me that story to remember in connection with Lady Powderby's ball, although Mr. Mafferton, when I retailed it, couldn't see that it was in the least amusiug. ' Besides,' he said, ' it's as old as " Punch.'' ' But at the end of the third dance Mr. Maffer- ton had been sent by Lady Torquilin to look for me, and was annoyed, I have no doubt, by the trouble he had to take to find me. And Mr. Mafferton's sense of humour could never be con- sidered his strong point. V 1 AA' AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON iSi XVII A GREAT many otlier pooplo were going to Aklcrsliot tlio ■A day we went there— so many that the train, whicli wo were almost too hite for, had nowhere two spare seats together. Just at the hist minute, after Lady Torqnilin had decided that we mnst travel separately, the guard unlocked the door of a first-class carriage occupied by three gentlemen alone. It afforded much more comfortable accommodation than the car- riage Lady Torquilin was crowded into, but there was no time to tell her, so I got in by myself, and sat down in the left-hand corner going backward, and prepared to enjoy the landscape. The gentlemen were so much more interesting, however, that I am afraid, though I ostensibly looked at the landscape, I paid much more attention to them, which I hope was comparatively proper, since they were not aware of it. They were all rather past middle age, all very trim, and all dressed to ride. There the similarity among them ended ; and besides being different from one another, they were all different from any American gentlemen I had ever met. That is the reason they were so deeply interesting. One, who sat opposite me, was fair, with large blue eyes and an aquiline nose, and a well-defined, clean-shaven face, all but his graceful moustache. He was broad-shouldered and tall, and muscular and lean, and he lounged, illuminating his con- versation with a sweet and easy smile. He looked very clever, \82 AX AMI'.RICAX GIRL IX I.OXDOX iiiid 1 lliiiik lie imist liuvc Ix'.-ii tokl all his lilo that ho re- scmbk-d the Dukt^ of AWllington. 'I'ho ono in the otkiT corner, opposite, \Yas rosy and roujid-faced, with twinkling blue eyes and a grey moustache, and he made a com- fortable angle with his rotund person and the wall, crossing liis excellent legs. >' ' I OSTENSIBLY LOOKED AT THE LANDSCAPE ' The one on mj side, of whom I had necessarily an imperfect view, was very grc}', and had a straight nose and a pair of level eyes, rather pink about the edges, and carefully-cut whiskers AX AME!^ICAX CIRI. IX I.OXDOX •S;, nncl slopiiio- sliouldfi's. lie "ho lost — seeming to think that I had, and that that was what had attracted my attention. The yonng officer was at Aldershot Station to meet us, looking quite a different person in his uniform. I can't pos- sibly describe the uniform, or you would know the regiment, and possibly the officer, if you are acquainted with Aldershot — which he might not like. But I may say, without fear of identifying him, that he wore a red coat, and looked very hand- some in it — red is such a popular colour among officers in England, and so generally becoming. He was a lieutenant, and his name was Oddie Pratte. By the time I found this out, which was afterwards, when Mr. Pratte had occasion to write two or three letters to me, which he signed in that way, I had noticed how largely pet names cling to gentlemen in England — not only to young gentlemen in the Army, but even to middle-aged family men. Mr. Winterhazcl's name is Bertram, ' ODDIE I'ltATIIE ' 190 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON and I sliould be interested to hear wht t lie would say if any one addressed him as ' Bertie.' I think he would be mad, as "■e say in America. If I had ever called him anything but Mr. Winterhazel — which I have not — I would do it myself when I return, just for an experiment. I don't think any gentleman in the United States, out of pinafores, could be called ' Bertie ' with impunity. We would contract it into the brutal brevity of *Bert,' and 'Eddie' to 'Ed,' and 'Wi'lie' to 'Will,' and ' Bubby ' to ' Bob.' But it is a real pleasing feature of your civilisation, this overlapping of nursery tenderness upon maturer years, and I hope it will spread. What 'Oddie' was derived from I never got to know Mr. Pratte well enough to ask, but he sustained it with more dignity than I would have believed possible. That is the remarkable — at any rate a remarkable — characteristic of you English people. You sustain eN'e-.y thing with dignity, from your Lord Mayor's Show to your farthing change. You are never in the least amused at yourselves. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 191 XVIII * 4 WF"LY glad 3'on've been aljle to conic!' said ^fr. Pralfo, -^^ leading the way to his dogcart, quite a marked figure, in his broad red shoulders, among the dark-coloured crowd at tlio station. ' There's so much going on in the village I was afraid you'd change yonr mind. Frightful state df funic, I assure you, every time the post came in ! ' Mr. I'ratte spoke to Lady Torquilin, but looked across at me. AVe are considerably moro simple than this in America. If a gentleman wants to say some- thing polite to you, he never thinks of transmitting it through somebody else. But your way is much the most convenient. It gives one the satisfaction of being complimented without the embarrassment of having to reply in properly negative terms. So it was Lady Torquilin who said how sorry we should have been to miss it, and I found no occasion for remark until wo were well started. Then I made the unavoidable statement that Aldershot seemed to be a pretty place, though I am afraid it did not seriously occur to me that it was. 'Oh, it's a hole of sorts ! ' remarked INTr. Pratte. ' Put to see it in its pristine beauty you should be hero when it rains. It's adorable then ! ' P»y that time I had observed that ]\Ir. Pratte had very blue eyes, with a great deal of laugh in them. His complexion you could find in America only at the close of the seaside season, among the people who have just come liomo, and even then it would be patchy — it would not have the solid 192 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON rlclmess of tint that ]\[r. Prattc's had. It was a wliolesome complexion, and it went very well with the rest of Mr. Pratte. I liked its tones of brown and red, and the way it deepened in his nose and the back of his neck. In fact, I might as well say in the boGfinnin": that I liked ]Mr. Pratte alto<]fetlier — there was something very winning abont him. His manner was vari- able : sometimes extremely flippant, sometimes — and then he let his eyeglass drop — profoundly serious, and sometimes, when he had it in mind, preserving a level of cynical indifterence that was impressively interesting, and seemed to stand for a deep and unsatisfactory experience of life. Tor the rest, he was just a tall young subaltern, very anxious to be amused, with a dog. j\Ir. I'ratte went on to say that he was about the only man in the place not on parade. There was some recondite reason for this, which I have forgotten. Lady Torquilin asked him how his mother and sisters were, and Le said : ' Oh, they were as fit as possible, thanks, according to latest despatches,' which I at once mentally put down as a lov'ely idiom for use in my next Chicago letter. I wanted, above all tliings_^ to convince them at home that I was wasting no time so far as the l.-aiguage was concerned ; and I knew they would not understand it, which was, of course, an additional pleasure. I would express myself very clearlv about it though, I thouglit, so as not to suggest epilepsy or any- thinof of that sort. Americans are nearly always interested in public buildings. We are very proud of our own, and generally point them out to strangers before anything else, and I was surprised that Mr. ]^ratte mentioned nothing of the sort as we drove through Aldershot. So the first one of any size or importance that met my eye I asked him about. ' Tliat, I suppose, is your jail ?' I said, with polite interest, as we came in sight of a long building AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 193 with that shnplicity of exterior that always characterises jails. Our subaltern gave vent to a suppressed roar. ' What is she saying now ? ' asked Lady Torquilin, who had not been paying attention. ' She says — oh, I say, Auntie, what a score ! ]\Iiss Wick lias just pointed out that building as Aldershot j'n7/' I ' Isn't it?' said L ' I'm afraid ]Miss Wick is pullin' our log, Auntie ! * Now, I was in the back seat, and what could have induced I ^\y. Pratte to charge me with so unparalleled and impossible a familiarity I couldn't imagine, not being very far advanced in tlie language at the time ; but when Mr. Pratte explained that ■ the buildings I referred to were the officers' quarters, with hi3 own colonel's at one end — and ' Great Scott ! ' said Mr. Pratte, going off again, ' What would the old man say to that ? ' — I felt too much overcome by my own stupidity to think about it. I have since realised that I was rather shocked. It was, of course, im- possible to mention puljlic buildings again in any connection, and, although I spent a long and agreeable day at Aldcrshot, if you j were to ask me whether it had so much as a town pump, I couldn't tell you. But I must say I am not of the opinion that it had. To speak American, it struck me as being rather a one-horse town, though nothing could be nicer than I found it as a military centre. We drove straight out of town to the parade-ground, over a road that wound through rugged-looking, broken fields, yellow with your wonderful flaming gorse and furze, which struck mo as contrasting oddly with the neatness of your landscajies gene- rally. When I remarked upon their uncultivated state, Mr. Pratte said, w^ith some loftiness, that military operations wero not advantageously conducted in standing corn — meaning wheat i 194 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON — and I tlecidecl for ihe rest of (ho day to absorb infonnation, as fur as possible, witliout inquiring for it. It was a lovely day — no clouds, no dust, nothing but blue sky, and sunshine on the gorse ; and plenty of people, all of whom seemed to have extreme views upon the extraordinary fineness of the weal her, were on their way to the parade- ground, chielly driving in dogcarts. AVhenever we passed a WE DUOYE STRAIGHT OUT 01'' roSVN TO THE PAllADE-OllOUNi) ' lady in anything more ambitious, ]\[r. Pratto invariably saluted very nicely indeed, and told Lady 1'orquilin that she was tht> wife of Colonel So-and-so, commanding the somethingth some- thing. And I noticed all through the day what a great deal of consideration these ladies received from everybod}^, and what extraordinary respect was accorded to their husbands. I have no doubt it is a class distinction of yours, and very proper ; but AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 195 1 could not liolp tliinking of the iiniiibcr of colonels and tlioir families we have at home, and how little more wo think of them on that account. Poppa's liead man in the baking- powder business for years was n colonel — Colonel Canister ; so is poppa himself — and I never knew eitlier of them show that they thought anything- of it. I suppose momma's greatest friend is ]Mrs. Colonel Pabbly, but that is because their tastes are similar and their families about the same age. For that matter, I daresay one-third of the visiting-cards momma receives have * Colonel' between the ' Mrs.' and the last name. It is really [ no particular distinction in America. I AVe were rather lale, and all the bv'st places had been taken up by the dogcarts of other people. The}' formed an ai)pareiitly unbroken front, or, more properU', back, wherever we wanted to get in. By some extraoi'dinary means, however, more as a matter of course than anything else — it couldn't have been done \ in America — ^Fr. Pnitte inserted his dogcart in an extremely advantageous position, and I saw opposite, and far off, the long, long double line of soldiers, stretching and wavering as the country dipped and swelled under the sky. ' \\\ a minute,' said ]\[r. TVatte, 'you'll hear the "furious joy'" — and an instant later there came splitting and spitting against the blue, from east to west, and from west to east, the chasing white smoke- jets of the fen do joh. You have a few very good jokes in ]']nglanel. It seemed to me that two of tlie bands which defied each other for the rest of the morning began playing at that instant to prevent any diminution in the furious joy, while the long line of soldiers broke up into blocks, each block going off somewhere by itself; and Mr. Pratte told Lady Torquilin about a dance in town the night before, where he met a lot of people he loved. 2 196 AN AMERICAN GIRT. IN LONDON ' AVas the fair and only one tliere?' Lady Torqullin inquired witli archness ; and Mr. Pratte's countenance suddenly became rueful as he dropped his eyeglass. ' Yes,' he said ; ' but there's a frost on — we don't play with each other anymore!' And I believe other confidences followed, which I did not feel entitled to hear, so I divided my attention between the two bands and thejiarade. One band stood still at a little distance, and played as hard as possible continually, and every regiment sent its own band gloriously on ahead of it with the colonel, generally getting the full significance out of a Scotch jig, which Mr. Pratte said was the ' march-past.' It made a most magnificently effective noise. I hope the person for whoso benefit that parade was chiefly intended — I believe there is always some such person in connec- tion with parades — was as deeply impressed with it as I was. it was the first time I had ever seen English soldiers in bulk, and they presented a threatening solidity which I should think would be very uninteresting to the enemy. There are more interstices in our reu'iments — I think it must be admitted that we are nationally thinner than you are. Besides, what we are still in the habit of calling ' our recent unpleasantness ' hap- pened about a quarter of a century ago, and I shouldn't think myself that a taste for blood could survive that period of peace and comfort, to be very obvious. Certainly, Chicago parades had not prepared me for anything so warlike as this. Not that I should encourage anybody to open hostilities Avith us, however. Though we are thin, we might be found lively. The cavalry regiments were splendid, with the colonel's horse as conscious as anybody of what was expected of him, as the colonel's horse, stepping on ahead; and particularly the Lancers, with their gay little pennons flying ; but there was not the rhythmic regularity in their movement that was so beautiful to AA' AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 197 SCO in tlio infantry coming aftor. Lady Torquilin found it very absurd — there were so many points to notice that were more admirabk' — that the parade was that long, saw from the rear as once ; but it seemed to of martial order in it, That, and the swing of gleam of the sun on thing I liked best in the whole quick, instant crinkle that we every man bent his kuee at me to have the whole essence and to hold great fascination, tlie Highlanders' kilts, and the their philabegs, and the pride * WITH THEIR GAY LITTLK PENNONS FLYING ' of their marching. That Aldershot Highland regiment, with its screaming bagpipes, seemed, to my Chicago imagination, to have 198 Ay AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON liorilcrcrs, and I licartl tlio story of the Isjuidiila coloura, wifli tlio (^iioeii's littlu ^'•old wrculh above tlieiu, tliut wont, preciouHly furled, in tlio middle. T wished then — though it is not consistent with the ^lonroo doctrine — that wo had a great standing army, with traditions and a constant possibility of foreign fighting. It may bo discouraging to the increase of the male popidation, but it encourages sentiment, and is valuable on that account. So they all came and passed and went, and came and passed and went again, three times — the whole ten thousand cavalry, infantry, artillery, commissariat, and)ul;ince, doctors, mules, and all — with a great dust, and much music, and a tremendous rattling and bumping when the long waggons came, at the rear of which a sintflo soldier sat in each, with his le7/t'/'e.N'. Then came lunch at the mess, at which, as the colonel took care of Lady Torquilin, I had the nndivided attention of Mr. Oddie Pratte, which I enjoyed. ]Mr. I'ratte was curious upon the subject of American girls at home — he told me lie began to believe himself misinformed about them — seriouslv, and dropping his eyeglass. lie would like to know accurat(>ly — under a false impression one made such awkward mistaktV) — well, for instance, if it were true that they wi're up to all son s of games at home, how was it they were all so deucedly solemn when they came over here ? Mr. Pratte hoped I wouldn't bo offended — of course, he didn't mean that / was solemn — but — well, I. knew what he meant — I mmi know ! And wouldn't I have some more sugar for those strawberries ? ^ I like ci'owds of sugar, don't you ? ' said .Mr. Oddie Pratte. Another thing, he had always been told that they immediately wanted to see AVhitechapel. Now he had asked every American girl he'd met this season whether she had seen AVhitechapel, and not one of 'em had. He wasn't going to ask me on that account. They didn't, as a rule, seem to see the joke of the thing. Mr. Pratte would like to know if I had ever met the M'Clures, of New York Nollio ^I'lUuiv was a givat pal cU' lus— and was (lisa|>- pointotl that I luulu't. '.riio couvorsatldii turiunl to India, whlthor W\\ Pratto's ivginuMit was onloroil to procood inunodiatoly, and I ivcoivod a t' iniplemeuts {^'i war, ami cliarming pluttograjihs, and the perfornuiuce i^fMr. Pratte's in- tellectual, small dog. That ended tlu» Aldershot paradi-. "We have so few parades of any sort in America, <>\cept when some- body of importance dies — and then tlu^y are a[)t {y) be depressiug — that I was particularly glad to have seen it. AX ./J//;AVcVLV (/V/OZ /X LOXIWX 201 XIX 1)(H'PA'S iiiteros^ts in l.oiulou nocossltutiHl lils luiviiii^ lawvtM's thore—Mossrs. Pink, rink iV IV., vi' Tlioapsielo. If you know New York, vou will uudorstaml nu> wliou I sav that 1 Inul always thought ChoapsiJo a kiuil oi' l>owory, probably full o( scfoml-haud clothing shops and itv-froani }nii lours -t ho la.-t phuv I should think of looking tor a rospectablo tirin of solicitors in, ospooially after cherishing the idea all my life that London lawyers >vere to be found only in Chancery iiane. Uut that wis Messrs. Pink t'S: Pink's address, and the mistake was t>ne oi' the larire number vou have been kind enouijh io correct for me. ^It was a matter of some regret to po[)pa that Messrs. Pink *!;• Pink were bachelors, and could not very well be expected \o exert themselves for me personally on that account ; two Mrs. Piidmselves out more or less to do it. Put there was no Mrs. Pink, so 1 was indebted to these gentlemen for monev onlv, which thev sent me whenever T wrote to them tor it, by arrangement with poppa. 1 was surprised, therefore, to receive one morning an extrcuuly ])olile note li\nu Messr' Pink »It Pink, begging nu* to name an afternoon when it would bo convenient for nu> to call at their otlice, in order that Messrs. Pink t!v: Pink might luive the honour of discussing with me iv matter oi' private business importunt to mvself. I tlumght it tlelightfully exciting, 202 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON and wrote at once tliat I would come next day. I speculated considerably in the meantime as to what the important private matter could possibly be — since, beyond my address, Messrs. ]*ink & Pink knew nothing whatever of my circumstances in London — but did not tell Lady Torquilin, for fear she would think she ought to come with me, and nothing spoils an important private matter like a third person. '1st Floor, Messrs. Dickson & Dawes, Architects; 2nd Floor, Norwegian Life Insurance Co. ; 3rd floor, jSIessrs. Pink & I'ink, Solicitors,' read the framed directory inside the door in black letters on a yellow ground. I looked round in vain for an elevator-boy, though the narrow, dark, little, twisting stairway was so worn that I might have known that the pro- jDrietors were opposed to this innovation. I went from floor to floor rejoicing. At last I had found a really antique interior in London ; there was not a cobweb lacking in testimony. It was the very first I had come across in my own private investigations, and I had expected them all to be like this. Four or five clerks were writing at high desks in the rocm behind the frosted-glass door with ' Pink & Pink ' on it. There was a great deal of the past in this room also, and in its associations — impossible to realise in America — which I found gratifying. The clerks were nearly all elderly, for one thing — grey-headed men. Since then I've met curates of about the same date. The curates astonished me even more than the clerks. A curate is such a perennially young person with us. You would find about as many aged schoolboys as elderly curates in America. I suppose our climate is more favourable to rapid development than yours, and they become full-fledged clergymen or lawyers after a reasonable apprenticeship. If not, they must come within the operation of some evolutionary law by which they AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 203 disappear. America is a place wliere there is very little room for anachronisms. Beside the elderly clerks, the room liad an air of old leather, and three large windows with yellow blinds pmned vp — in these days of automatic rollers. Through the windows I noticed the cheerful chimneys and spires of London, E.G., rising out of that lovely atmospheric tone of yellow which is so becoming to them ; and down below — if I could only have got near enough — 1 am cerhiin I should have seen a small dismantled graveyard, with mossy tombstones of different sizes a long way out of the perpendicular. I have become accustomed to finding graveyards in close connection with business enterprise in London, and they appeal to me. It is very nice of you to let them stay just where they were put originally, when you are so crovrded. At home there isn't a dead person in existence, so to speak, that would have a chance in a locality like Cheapside. And they must suggest to you all sorts of useful and valuable things about the futility of ambition and the deceitful- ness of riches down there under vour very noses, as it were, whenever you pause to look at them. I can quite understand your respect for them, even in connection with what E.G. frontage prices must be, and I hope, though I can't be sure, that there was one attached to the oflSces in Cheapside of Messrs. Pink & Pink. The clerks all looked up with an air of inquiry when I went in, and I selected the only one who did not immediately duck WITH AN AIIl OF INQUinV ' 204 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON to Lis work again for my interrogation. It was an awkward interrogation to make, and I made it awkwardly. ' Are tlie Mr. Pinks in ? ' I asked ; for I did not know in the least how many of them wanted to see me. ' I believe so, miss,' said the elderly clerk, politely, laying down his pen. 'Would it be Mr. A. Pink, or Mr. W. W. Pink ? ' I said I really didn't know. 'Ah! In that case it would be Mr. A. Pink, Shouldn't you say so ? ' — turning to the less mature clerk, who responded loftily, from a great distance, and without looking, ' Probably.' AVhereupon the elderly one got down from his stool, and took me himself to the door with ' Mr. A. Pink ' on it, knocked, spoke to someone inside, then ushered me into the presence of Mr. A. Pink, and withdrew. The room, I regret to say, did not match its surroundings, and could not have been thought of in connection with a grave- yard. It was quite modern, with a raised leather wall-paper and revolving chairs. I noticed this before I saw the tall, thin, depressed-looking gentleman who had risen, and was bowing to me, at the other end of it. He was as bald as possible, and might have been fifty, with long, grey side-whiskers, that fell upon a suit of black, very much wrinkled where Mr. Pink did not fill it out. His mouth was abruptly turned down at the corners, with lines of extreme reserve about it, and whatever complexion he might have had originally was quite gone, leaving only a modified tone of old-gold behind it. ' Dear me ! ' I thought, ' there can be nothing interesting or mysterious here.' Mr. Pink first carefully ascertained whether I was ]\Iiss Wick, of Chicago ; after which he did not shake hands, as I had vaguely expected him to do, being poppa's solicitor, but said, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 205 * Prny be seated, jNIiss Wick ! ' — and we both sat down in tlio revolving cliairs, preserving an unbroken gravity. ' You have been in London some weeks, I believe, Miss Wick,' said Mr. A, Pink, tentatively. He did not know quite how long, because for tlio first month I had plenty of money, without being obliged to apply for it. I smiled, and said ' Yes ! ' with an inflection of self-congratulation. I was very curious, but saw no necessity for giving more information than was actually asked for. ' Your — ah — father wrote us that you were coming over alone. That must have required great courage on the part of — liere Mr. Pink cleared his throat — ' so young a lady ; ' and Mr. Pink smiled a little narrow, drearj' smile. ' Oh, no ! ' I said, ' it didn't, Mr. Pink.' ' You are — ah — quite comfortable, I hope, in Cadogan Mansions. I thlnh it is Cadogan ]\ransions, is it not ? — Yes.' ' Very comfortable indeed, thank you, IMr. Pink. They aro comparatively modern, and the elevator makes it seem more or less like home.' ]\rr. Pink brightened ; he evidently wished me to be discur- sive. ' Indeed ! ' he said — ' Ye-es ? ' ' Yes,' I returned ; ' when I have time I always use the elevator.' ' That is not, I think, the address of the lady your father mentioned to us as your only relative in London, Miss Wick ? ' ' Oh no,' I responded, cheerfully ; ' ]\rrs. Cummers Portheris lives in Half-Moon Street, ^Mr. Pink.' ' Ah, so I understand. Pardon the incpiiry, ^liss Wick, but was there not some expectation on your father's part that you would pass the time of your visit in London with Mrs. PorLheris ? ' 2c6 AN AMKRICAX GIRL /X LOXDOX ' On all our parts, Mr. Piiik. Jkit it vaiiislied the day after 1 arrived' — and I could not help smiling as I remembered the letter I had written from the ^letropole telling the Wick family about my reception by my affectionate relation. Mr. Pink smiled too, a little doubtfully as well as drearily this time. He did not seem to know quite how to proceed. ' I'ardon me again, ]\liss Wick, but there must be occasions, I should think, when you would feel your — ah — comparative isolation' — and ]\[r. Pink let one of his grey whiskers run through his long, thin hand. ' ^'ery seldom,' I said ; 'there is so much to see in London, ^\\\ Pink. Even the store-windows are entertaining to a stranger' — and I wondered more than ever what was coming. 'I see — 1 see. You make little expeditions to various points of interest — the Zoological (hardens, the Crystal Palace, and so forth.' It began to be like the dialogues in the old-fashioned read- ing-books, carefully marked ' Q.' and ' A.' *Yes,' I said, 'I do. I haven't seen the Zoo yet, but I\o seen ]\Irs. Por ' ; there I stopped, knowing that Mr. ]'ink could not be expected to perceive the sequence of my ideas. Put he seemed to conclude that he had ascertained as much as was necessary. ' I think, Miss Wick,' he said, ' we nnut come to the point at once. You have not been in England long, and you may or may not be aware of the extreme difli- culty which attaches — er — to obtaining — that is to say, which Amer — foreigners find in obtaining anything like a correct idea of — of social institutions here. To a person, I may say, with- out excellent introductions, it is, generally speaking, impos- sible.' I said I bad heard of this difficulty. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 207 *IT BEaAN TO BE LIKE THE DI.VLOOUES IN THE OLD-FASIIIOXED READING -BOOK*' 2o8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ' I do not know whether you, personally, have any curiosity upon this point, but ' I hastened to say that I had a great deal. * But I should say that it was probable. There are few persons of j'our intelligence, IMiss Wick, I venture to hazard, by whom a knowledge of ]"]nglish society, gained upon what might be termed a footing of intimacy, would fail to be appreciated.' I bowed. It was flattering to be thought intelligent by j\Ir. ]^ink. ' The question now resolves itself, to come, as I have said, straight to the point. Miss Wick, into whether you would or would not care to take steps to secure it.' ' That would depend, I should think, upon the nature of the stops, ^Ir. I'ink. I may as well ask you immediately whether they have anything to do with Miss Purkiss.' ' Nothing whatever — nothing whatever ! ' Mr. Pink hastened to assure me. ' I do not know the lady. The steps which have recommended themselves to me for you would be taken r.pon a — upon a basis of mutual accommodation, J\liss Wick, involving remuneration, of course, upon your side.' ' Oh ! ' said I, comprehendingh'-. 'And in connection with a client of our own — an old, and, I may sny, a highly-cs'/eemetr — and Mr. Pink made a little respectful forward inclination of his neck — ' client of our own.' I left the burden of explanation wholly to Mr. Pink, content- ing myself with looking amiable and encouraging. ' A widow of Lord Bandobust,' said JMr. Pink, with an eye to the effect of this statement. The effect was bad — I could not help wondering how many Lord Bandobust had, and said, ' Really ! ' w4tli an effort to conceal it. ' Lady Bandobust, somewhat late in life — this, of course, is AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 209 confidential, ]\liss AVick — finds herself in a position to — to ap- preciate any slight addition to lier income. His lordship's rather peculiar will — but I need not go into that. It is, perhaps, ' I WAS TAKEN BY SURPRISi: ' sufficient to say that Lady Bandobust is in a position to give you every advantage, Miss Wick — e\:cv\j advantage.' This was fascinating, and I longed to hear more. ' It seems a little indefinite,' said I to Mr. Pink. 210 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ' It does, certainly — you ;ire (juite right, Miss Wick — it does. Beyond iipproaching you, liowever, and ascertaining your views, I am not instructed to act in tlic matter. Ascertaining your views in particular, I should say, as ri'gards the sum mentioned by liady Bandobust as a — a proper ecpiivalent — ahem ! ' * AVliat is her latlyship's charge ? ' I intpiired. ' Lady Bandobust would expect three hundi'ed pounds. ^Fy client wi.^hes it to be understood that in naming this figure she takes into consideration the fact that the season is already well ()})ened,' Mr. Pink said. ' Of course, additional time must be allowed to enable you to wiitc to your parents,' ' I see,' I said ; ' it does not strike me as exorbitant, Afr. IMnk, considering wliat Lady Bandobust has to sell.' Air. rink smiled rather uncomfortably. 'You Americans are so humorous,' he said, with an attempt Jit affability. ' AVell ' — drawing both whiskers through his hand conclusively, and suddeidy standing up — ' will you step this way, ^Miss Wick ? f My client has done mo the honour of calling in person about this matter, and as your visits, oddly enough, coincide, you will \ bo glad of the opportunity of going into details wdtli her.' And Air. A. Pink opened the door leading into the room of Mr. W. W. Pink. I was taken by surprise, but am afraid I should have gone in even after time for mature deliberation, I was !-o deeply, though insincerely, interested in the details. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 211 XX iDY BAXnoBUST, may I liaw tlio lioiionr of in- trodiicincjr Miss AVick, of riiicago?' saicKAIr. Pink, f oleniiily, jjowing as if lie Linif^elf wero Icing introduced to someljody. ' I could not do betlei-, I am sure, Miss Wick, than leave you in Lady Bando- bust's hands ' — with which master-stroke of politeness Mr. Pink withdrew, leavincr me, as he said, in Lady Bando- bust's hands. She was a little old woman in black, witli sharp eyes, a rather large, hooked nose, and a discon- tented mouth, over which hovered an expression of being actively bored. She had sloping shoulders, and little thin fingers in gloves much too long for them, and her bonnet dated back five seasons. Her whole appearance, without offering any special point for criticism, suggested that appreciation of any pecuniary advantage of which Mr. Pink had spoken, though her manner gave me definitely to P 2 21: AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON unclerslaiul tliat slio did not caro one jot about it. She was looking out of the window when j\lr. I'ink and I came in, and ' LADY BAXDOBTJST ' after acknowledging my bow with a small perfunctory smile, a half-effort to rise, and a vague vertebral motion at the back of A.V AMICRICAX (;/A'A IX LOXDON 213 her neck, she looked out of tlio window ai^'ain. I uni convinced tliat there was notliin*:^ in the view that coukl possibly interest lier, yet consta?itly, in the course of our conversation, Lady Bandobust looked out of the window. 8ho was tlio most un- interested person T have had the pleasure of talkinfj to in I]niifland. I said it was a lovely day. * Yes,' said Lady Bandobust. ' Mr. Pink tells me you are an American, ]\Iiss AVick, thonjj^h anybody could see that much. He knows your father, I believe ? ' * Not personally, I thiidc,' I returned. * Poppa has never visited England, Lady Bandobust.' * Perhaps we had better say " financially,'' then — knows him financially.' ' I daresay that is all that is necessary,' I said, innocently at the time, though I have since understood Lady Bandobust's reason for looking at me so sliarply. * You come from Chinchinnatti, I understand from Mr. Pink,' she continued. ' I beg your pardon ? Oh, Cincinatti ! No, from Chicago, Lady Bandobust.' ' I understood from lsh\ Pink that you came from Chincliin- natti — the place where people make millions in tinned pork. I had a nephew there for seven years, so I ought to know some- thing about it,' said Lady Bandobust, with some asperity. ' But if you say you are from Chickago, I have no doubt you are right.' ' Mr,, Pink informed me,' continued Lady Bandobust, * that he thought you might feel able to afford to see a little of English society. I've noticed that Americans generally like to do that if they can.* I i \ :E,.Q iu V'l ' i; l;i i'l'l'. "..Ill c--- / SSi^ li<^ >^'\ V v,\ ;?)ii rii I. ■^i^ii '^VJ I '. I " im 'WXJi WAa XlUi aiOfiX UNINTKUKSTED PERSON I HAVE UAD lUE I'lJiAJiUlUi OH XAIiKINO TO IN ENGLAND.' r .■ '■■ i AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 215 I said I was sure it would l;o iiitorestinuf. ' Ifc is very difficult,' said Lady Eandobust — ' oxtromoly difficult. It is impossible that you sliould know how difficult it is.' I remarked modestly, by w\ay of reply, that I believed few thijn-s worth haviim* were casv to g-ct. Lady Baiidobiist ignored the generalisation. ' As ^Ir. Pirdc lias probably told you, it cos^s money," said she, with another little concessive smile. ' Then, perhaps, it is not so dillicult after all,' I replied, amiably. Lady Bandobust gave me another sharp look. ' Only you rich Americans can afford to s;iv that,' she said. ' Jiut ^NFr. Pink has told me that flie expense would in all likelihood be a matter of indifference to your people. That, of course, is important.' ' Poppa doesn't scrimp,' I said. * He likes us to have a good time.' ' Regardless,' said Lady Bandobust — ' regardless of the cost ! That is very liberal.' ' Americans,' she went on, ' in English society are very fortunate. They are always considered as — as Americans, you understand ' ' I'm afraid I don't,' said I. ' And I think, on the whole, they are ratlier liked. Yes generally speaking, I think I may say they are liked.' I tried to express my gratification. ' As a rule,' said Lady Bandobust, absently, ' they spend so much money in England.' ' There can be no doubt of the (tdcantiujes of an experience of English society,' she continued, ratlier as if I had suggested one. ' To a young lady especially it is invaluable — it leads to 2i6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON so mucli. I don't know quite to wliat extent you would ex- pect ' Here Lady Bandobust paused, as if waiting for data on wliicli to proceed. 'I would expect ?' I repeated, not quite understanding. ' But I think I could arrange a certain number of balls, say four ; one or two dinners — you wouldn't care mucli about dinners, though, I dare say ; a few good " at homes " ; a Saturday or so at Hurlingham — possibly Ascot ; but, of course, you know every- thing would depend upon yoiu'self.' ' I could hardly expect you to make me enjoy myself. Lady Bandobust,* I said. ' That altogether depends upon one's own capacity for pleasure, as you say.' 'Oh, altogether! ' she returned. ' Well, we might say six balls — thoroughly good ones ' — and Lady Bandobust looked at me for a longer time together than she had yet — ' and fossiUij the lloyal Inclosure at Ascot. I say '• possil>ly " because it is very difficult to get. And i house-party to finish np with, which really ought to be extra, as it doesn't properly belong to a London season ; but if I can at all see my way to it,' Lady Bandobust went on, ' I'll put it into the three hundred. There are the Allspices, who have just bought Lord Frere ton's place in Wilts — I could take (i;///body there ! ' ' Your friends must bo very obliging. Lady Bandobust,' said I. ' The Private View is over,' said Lady Bandobust ; ' but there is the Academy Soiree in June, and the lloyal Colonial Institute, and a few tilings like that.' * It sounds charming,' I remarked. ' We might do something about the Four-in-hand,' Lady Bandobust continued, with some impatience. * Yes ? ' I said. A.V AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 217 There was a pause, in wliicli I cast about nie for some way of escape. I felt tliat my interest in Lady Bandobust was exhausted, and that I could not pretend to entertain lier scheme any longer with self-respect. Besides, by this time I cordially hated her. But I could think of no formula to retreat under, and resigned myself to sit there helplessly, and defend myself as best I could, until I was dismissed. Lady Bandobust produced her last card. ' The Duchess of Dudlington gives a/e/e on the twelfth,' she said, throwing it, as it w^ere, upon the table. * I should probably be able to take you there,' ' The Duchess of Dudlington?' said I, in pure stupidity. *Yes. And she is rather partial to Americans, for some extraordinary reason or another.' The conversation flagged again. ' Presentation — if that is what yon are thinking of — w^ould be extra, Miss AVick,' Lady Bandobust stated, firmly. ' Oh ! — how much extra, Lady Bandobust ? ' My prospective patroness did not hesitate a minute. ' Fifty pounds,' she said, and looked at me inquiringly. ' I — I don't think I was thinking of it, Lady Bandobust,' I said. I felt mean, as we say in America. ' Yon were not! Well,' said she, judicially, 'I don't know that I would advise the outlay. It is a satisfactory thing to h.ave done, of course, but not nearly so essential as it used to be —nothing like. You can get on without it. And, as you say, fift}- pounds is fifty pounds.' \ knew I hadn't said that, but found it impossible to assert 'he fact. ' Miss Boningsbill, whom I took out last season, I did pre- sent,' Lady Bandobust continued ; ' but she went in for every- 1 2i8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON tiling — perhaps more extensively than you would be disposed to do. It might facilitate matters — giv^e you an idea, perhaps — if I were to tell you my arrangements with ]\Iiss Boningsbill.' ' I should like to hear them,' I said. * She did not live with me — of course, chaperonage does nob imply residence, you understand that. When she went out with me she called for me in her brougham. She had a brougham by the month, and a landau for the park. I should distinctly advise you to do the same. I would, in fact, make the arrange- ment for you. I know a very reliable man.' Lady Bandobusfc paused for my thanks. 'Generally speaking, Miss Boningsbill and I went out to- gether; but when I found this particularly inconvenient, she took one carriage and I the other, though she always had her choice. I stqndated only to take her to the park twice a week, but if nothing interfered I went oftener. Occasionally I took her to the play — that bores me, though. I hope you are not particularly fond of the theatre. And then she usually found it less expensive to get a box, as there were generally a few other people who could be asked with advantage — friends of my own.' ' She had a box at Ascot, too, of course,' Lady Bandobubt went on, looking down her nose at a fly in the corner of the window-pane ; ' but that is a matter of detail.' ' Of course,' I said, because I could think of nothing else to say. ' I gave her a ball,' Lady Bandobust continued ; ' that is to say, cards were sent out in my name. That was rather bungled, though — so many friends of mine begged for invitations for friends of theirs that I didn't know half the people. And Miss Boningsbill, of course, knew nobody. Miss Boningsbill was dis- satisfied about the cost, too. I was foolish enough to forget to AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 219 tell her beforehand. Everything came from my own particular tradespeople, and, uainrally, nothing was cheap. I never niggle,* said Lady Bandobust, turning her two little indifferent black eyes full upon nio. ' Miss Boningsbill insisted on having her name on the cards as well,' she said: '" Lady Bandobust and Miss Boningsbill," you understand. That I should not advise — very bad form, I call it.' ' She was married in October,* Lady Bandobust continued, casually. The second son of Sir Banbury Slatte — the eldest had gone abroad for his health. I knew the Banbury Slattes extremely well — excellent family.' ' ]\Iiss Boningsbill,' Lady Bandobust went on, absently, ' had nothing like your figure.' ' Was she an American ? ' I asked. *No — ]\[anchcster,' answered Ladv Bandobust, laconical! v. ' Cotton-spinners.' 'My dressmaker tells me she finds a marked differenco between English and American figures,' I remarked ; ' but I am afraid it is not to our advantage. Wo are not nearly so fine as you are.' ' Ah ! ' said Lady Bandobust. ' Who U your dressmaker ? she asked with interest. ' I spoke of the firm whose place of business, though not I mentioned in any guide-book, I had found to repay many visits. 'Oh, those people!' said Lady Bandobust. 'Dear, I call them. Smart enough for evening frocks, but certainly not to be depended upon for anything else. I should strongly advise you to try Miss Pafty, in Regent Street, and say I sent you. And for millinery, do let me recommend IMadame Marie. I would give you a note to her. An excessivehj clever woman — a i 220 AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON personal friend of my own. A liusband and two sons to support, so she makes bonnets. I J>eUeve the Princess goes to her regularly. And you pay very little more than you do any- where else. And now, with regard to our little scheme, what do you think, :\[iss Wick ? ' ' Ileally, Lady IJandobust,' said I, ' I am afraid I must think about it.' A decided negative was an utter impossibility at the time. ' Ah ! ' said Lady Bandobust, ' perhaps you think my terms a little high — just a trifle more than you expected, perhaps. Well, suppose we say two hundred and fifty ? ' ' I had no expectations whatever about it, Lady Bandobust,' I said ; ' I knew nothing of it up to about an hour ago.' ' Two hundred,' said Lady Bandobust. ' I am afraid I have no idea of the value of — of such things, Lady Bandobust,' I faltered. ' I can bring it as low as one hundred and fifty,' she returned, ' but it would not be quite the same, Miss Wick — you could not expect that.' The rest of the conversation, which I find rather painful to call to memory, may perhaps be imagined from the fact that Lady Bandobust finally brought her offer down to seventy-five pounds, at which point I escaped, taking her address, promising to write her my decision in the course of a day or two, and feel- ing more uncomfortably contemptible than ever before in my life. We happened to be making visits in Park Lane next day, and as Lady Bandobust lived near there, I took the note myself, thinking it would be more polite. And I found the locality, in spite of its vicinity to Park Lane, quite extraordinary for Lady Bandobust to have apartments in. ♦-. AX AMERICAxN GIRL IN LOXDON 221 I met Lady Bandobust once again. It was at an ' at home ' given by Lord and Lady Mafferton, where everybody was asked ' to meet ' a certain distinguished traveller. Oddly enou.di I was introduced to her, and we had quite a long chat. B^ut I noticed that she had not caught my name as my hostess pro- nounced it-she called me ' Miss Winter ' during the whole of our conversation, and seemed to have forgotten that we had ever seen each other before ; which was disagreeable of her in my opinion. ' 222 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XXI I WENT to Ascot with the 13angloy Codins— Mr., :^^rs., and the two Misses liangh^y Coffin. I didn't know tlie Bangley Coffins very well, but they were kind enough to ask Lady Tor- (juilin if I might go with them, and l^ady Torquilin con- sented with alacrity. ' You couldnH go awaj'' from England without seeing Ascot,' said she. ' It would be a sin ! It's far too much riot for me ; besides, I can't bear to see the wretched horses. If they would only learn to race without beating the jioor beasties ! To say nothing of the expense, which I call enormous. 80 by all means go with the Bangley Coffins, child — they're lively people — I daresay you'll enjoy yourself.' Lady Torquilin was surprised and disappointed, how^ever, when she learned that the party would go by train. ' I wonder at them,' she said, referring to the Bangley Coffins ; ' they know such a lot of people. I would have said they were morally cer- tain to be on somebody's drag. Shall you care to go by train ? ' AVhereupon I promptly assured Lady Torquilin that I was only too happy to go any way. So we started, the morning of the Gold Cup day, I and the Bangley Coffins. I may as well describe the Bangley Coffins, in the hope that they may help to explain my experiences at Ascot. I have to think of j\Irs. Bangley Coffin very often myself, when I try to look back intelligently upon our proceedings. Mrs. Bangley Coffin was tall, with a beautiful figure and pale AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 223 gold hair. The ]\Iisses Bangley Coffin were also tall, with prospectively beautiful figures and pale gold hair. I never saw such a resemblance between mother and daughters as tliere was between the ]Misses Bangley Coffin and their mamma. They sat up in the same way, their shoulders had the same slope, their elbows the same angle. The same lines developed on the countenance of Mrs. Bangley Coffin were undeveloped on the countenances of the Misses Bangley Coffin. Except in some slight matter of nose or eyes, Mr. Bangley Coffin hardly suggested himself in either of the young ladies. AVhen they spoke, it was in their mother's voice and in their mother's manner — a manner that impressed you for the moment as being the only one in the world. Both they and their mamma had on dresses which it was perfectly evident they had never worn before, and of which they demanded my opinion with a frankness that surprised me. ' What do you think,' said they, ' of our Ascot frocks ? ' I admired them very much; they represented, amongst them, nearly all the fashionable novelties, and yet they had a sort of conventional originality, if I may say such a thing, which was extremely striking. Tliey seemed satisfied with my applause, but promptly fell upon me for not meriting applause myself. ' "W'e saw you,' they said unitedly, ' in that frock last Sunday in the park ! ' — and there was a distinct reproach in the way they said it. ' It's quite charming ! ' they assured me — and it was — ' but it's not as if you hadn't quantities of them ! Do you mean to say Lady Torquilin didn't tell you you ought to have a special frock for Ascot ? ' ' She said I should do very well in this,' I declared, ' and that it would be a sin to buy another ; I had much better give the money to Dr. Barnardo ! ' Whereat Mrs. Bangley Coffin and the two Misses Bangley Coffin looked at one another and remarked, ' How like Lady Torquilin ! ' 224 AiV AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ' I tlidn't givo it to Dr. IJariiardo,' 1 continued — to which Mrs. Bangley Coffin rejoined, in parentliesis, ' I should hope not ' — ' but I'm <^dad Lady TorquiUn did not advise me to get an Ascot frock, though yours are very pretty. I feel that I couldn't have sustained one — I haven't the personality ! ' And indeed this was quite true. It occurred to mo often again through the day ; I could not have gone about inside an Ascot frock without feeling to some extent the helpless and meaning- less victim of it. The Bangley Coffin girls thought this supreme nonsense, and declared that I could carry anything off, and Mrs. Bangley Coffin said. I with pretended se- v verity, that it was } not a question of t feeling but of loolc- \ ing ; but they united \\ in consoling me so e successfully that I a at last believed my- si self dressed to jjer- o fection for Ascot — t. if I had only worn ai something else to |1 the park the Sun- ai day before ! t« The husband t and father of the \t Bangley Coffins was ~ a short, square- m shouldered gentleman with bushy eyebrows, a large mous- in tache, plaid trousers, and a grey tail-coat that was a very tJi MR. BANGLEY COFFIN. i i AN AMKlUCAN GIRL /X LOXDOX 225 tl^'ut fit rouiul tlio waist, lie liiid an expression C'f deep sa<^acity, antl lie took from an inner pocket, and fondled now and then, a case containing six very large brown cigars. His look of peculiar anticipative intelligence, combined with the cigars, gave me the idea that we should not be overburdened with^fr. Bangley Coflin's society during the day — which proved to be a correct one. It did not seem to me, in spite of what Lady Torquilin had Eaid, that it was at all unpopular to go to Ascot by rail. Trains 1^'ere leaving the station every four or live minutes, all full of people who preferred that way of going ; and our own car, which was what, I believe, you call a ' saloon carriage,' had hardly an empty seat. They looked nice respectul)le people, too, nearly all in Ascot frochs, though not perhaps particularly interesting. What surprised me in connection with the ride T\as the length of it ; it was not a ride, as I had somehow expected, of twenty minutes or lialf an liour from London, but a journey of, I forget how many, interminable hours. And what surprised me in connection with the people was their endurance of it. They did not fuss, or grow impatient, or consult their t.atches as the time dragged by ; they sat up, calm and placid fnd patient, and only looked occasionally, for refreshment, at iheir Ascot frocks. They seemed content to take an enormous Amount of trouble for the amusement which might be supposed 10 be tickling their fancy at the other end of the trip— if there 'as any other end — to take it unshrinkingly and seriously. [t gave me an idea of how difficult it is to be amused in England -unless vou are a forei«?ner. Ascot to them was no lij^ht latter, and to me it was such a very light matter. I tried to lagine any fifty Americans of my acquaintance dressing up in leir best clothes, and speeding six or seven hours of a day Q 226 yiA' AMERICAN GIRT. IN LONDON in prolractt'd iiiilwiiy journeys, for tlio sake of ;i lidlc fun in between ; and I failetl. It's as iiuicli as we would do to inaugu- rate a prewident, or bury a p^eneral who saved tlio Union. We won Id consider llio terms lii<,di. But, of course, it is impos- j sible for mo to say liow we might beliave if we had Distinguislied Occasions, with lloval Inclosures inside them. AVc started witli a sense of disappointment, wliich seemed to comr^ in through the windows and enveh)p tlie Bangley rV)fllns, becanso ' some people ' they had expected failed to appear upon the platform. ]\Ir. liangley Collin looked par- ticularly depressed. 'Don't see how the deuce we're going to arrange!' he said to ]\lrs. Bangley Coflin, with nnction. 'Oh, there's sure to be toniebody, Joey, love!' she returned, cheer- fully; ' and in any case, yon see, we have you.' To which ^Fr. J juii^il '.''*' Collin gave a dubious and indistinct assent. I did not get on well wlllt ^'r. j^angley Coffin. He seemed to mean well, but he had a great many phrases which I did not in the ' least nnderstand, and to which ho invariably added, '7\s you i say in America.' It was never by any chance a thing we did say in America, but nothing could make J\rr. Bangley Coffin |j believe that. I can't say that we had mnch general conversa- f ] tion either, but in what there was I noticed great good-feeling between the ]\Iisses Bangley Coffins and their mamma. ' The bonnet of that Israelite at the other end of the carriage wonld suit you to a "T", mummie,' one of them re-^ marked in joke. The bonnet was a terrible affair, in four shades ^ of heliotrope. IC 'Yes,' replied Mrs. Bangley Coffin, smiling quite good-ltl naturedly ; ' that's about my form.' iai The Bangley Coffins were all form. Form, for them, regu-t" lated existence. It was the all-compelling law of the spheres,»'e AJV AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 227 tho test of all liiiiiiaii ,'ictioii uiul desire. 'CJood form' wns Iho iilLiinute expression of their respect, ' IkuI loriii ' their liii:il tleclu- ration of cont(>iTipt. I'l-rhaps I should inisjiidge the nan^-jey ('odins if I said form was tlieir conscience, and I don't want to mis- judge them — they were very pleasant to me. ]3ut I don't think they would liavo cared to risk their ett'nial salvation upon any religious tenets that were not entirely comvio H faut — I nu'an the ladies Bangley Coffin. The head of their house twisted his moustache and seemed more or less indillerent. There is no doul)t that, in the end, we did got to Ascot, and left our dust-cloaks in charge of that oMii^'inu,- miildle-agcd i)erson O lit) ij 1 who is to be found in every ladies' waiting-room in l"]ngland. There was some discussion as to whether wo should or should not leave our dust-cloaks with her — they were obviously' uiilx^- coming, but, obviously also, it might rain. However, in the end we did. INFrs. Ijangley Coflin thought we might trust to i'rovidence, and Providence proved itself worthy of ^[rs. l^angloy Coffin's confidence. Again, as we joined tho crowd that surged out of the station, I noticed that look of anxious expectancy on the face of tho Eanglev Coflin faniilv. It was keener than before, and all- embracing. I even fancied I noticed an understood division of survey — an arrangement by which ^Ir. Eangley Coflin looked to the north, and ]\[rs. Bangley Coflin to the south, one young lady to the east, and the other to the west. ' AVe really must keep an eye open,' said ^Mr. Bangley Coffin. ' Coming this way ? "Oh ! Hullo, I'ipply, old man ! Hare you ? ' with extreme cor- iliality, to a short, very stout gentleman in grey, with a pink face nd a hooked nose, and a white moustache, and a blue-spotted ,|necktie — a New Yorker, I was sure, before he spoke. Pipply responded with very moderate transports, and shook hands q2 2 2S Ay AMERICA:.! CIRL IX LOXDOX liastily with tlie laJiea attached to Mr. Bangley Coffin. 'Airs. Pipply's with yon, I see,' continued Mr. Bangley Cofiin, joyously, ' and that charming sister of hers ! Kitty, we mud see whether they have forgotten us, mustn't we ? ' — and he and Kitty advanced upon two very much-accented fair ladies in frilled inuslins and large flowery hats. They were dressed as fashionably as Bond Street could dress them, and they were as plump and pretty as could be, but perhaps just a little too big and blue of eye and pink-and-white of complexion quite to satisfy the Bangley Cofiin idea of ' form.' It Avould be difficult" to account otherwise for what they did. For the Pipplj^s, they were very amiable, but, as you might say, at bay ; and after reproaching the Bangley Coffins with having never, never, never come to see them, after promising solemnly to do so at Cannes, where they had all had nHch a good time together, JMrs. Pipply proceeded to say thr.'.: she didn't know whether we were driving— if not, they had room for one, and we might arrange to meet again somewhere. ' How good of yon ! ' said Mrs. Bangley Coffin, and looked a| lier two daughters. ' We're really obliged to you,' said ^Iv. Bangley Coffin, and bent a gaze of strong compulsion upon his wife. The young ladies smiled, hesitated, and looked at me. I couldn't go. I had not even been introduced. There was an awkward pause — the kind of pause you never get out of England — and as the Pipplys, rather hulfed and rather in a liurry, were movini^ off, Mrs. Bangley Coffin covered their retreat, as it were, with the unblushing statement that she was afraid we must try to keep our little party together. And we lost the Pipplys ; where- upon Mr. Bangley Coffin regarded his family with the air of a disciplinarian. ' They're certain to be on a drag,' said he, ' and no end of Pipply's clubs have tents. Why didn't one of you go ? Not classy enough, eh ? ' Whereupon they all with one accord j I A.V AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON -ii^ I hoiXan to make excuse, after wliicli we walked on in a troubled silence. It was very dusty and very steep, that narrow hill that so many people find fortune at the top or ruin at the bottom of, leading to the heart of Ascot. But the day had brightened, and the people — all going uphill — were disposed to be merry, and two one-armed sailors sat in the sun by the side of the road singing ballads and shouting, 'Good luck to you, ladies! 'so that my spirits gradually rose. I didn't see how I could help enjoying myself. ' I always think it's such a frightful charge for admission to the Grand Stand,' said ]\rrs. Bangley Coffin, as we walked up the arboreal approach to it. 'A sovereign! Of course, they have to do it, you know, to keep the mob outj but really, when one thinks of it, it U too much ! ' I thought this a real kindness of ^Frs. Bangley Coffin, because if I had not known it was so much 1 might have let ^fr. Bangley I Coffin pay for ray ticket too. It was about this time that Mr. Bangley Coffin disappeared, lie launched us, as it were, upon the crowded terrace in front of the Grand Stand, where at every turn the Misses Bangley Coffin expected to see a man they knew. lie remained semi-detached and clinging for about a quarter of an hour, coming up with an jigreeable criticism upon a particular costume, darting off again to talk to a large, calm man with an expansive checked shirt-front and a silk hat well on the back of his head, who carried a note- ])ook. Then, once, !Mrs. Bangley Coffin addressed him, think- ing him behind her. ' Joey, love ! ' said she. ' Joey, love ! ' said she again, turning her head. But Joey was utterly and wholly gone. I believe he explained afterwards that he had lost us. * There ! ' said Mrs. Bangley Coffin, with incisiveness ; * now we mmi see somebody we know ! Pet, isn't that Sir Melville 230 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Cartns ?' It was, and Sir JNTelvillo came up in response to Mrs. IJanglcy Coffin's ej'oglass and bow and smile, and made himself extremely agreeable for about four minutes and a-qnarter. Then l;e also took off his hat with much charm of manner and went .'iVw'iy. So did a nervous little Mr. Trifugis, avIio joined ns for a short time. He said he was on the Fitzwalters's drag, and it was Eo uncommon full he had apprehensions about getting back. AVhose drag were we on ? and didn't we think it was drawing- near the halcyon hour of luncheon ? ' Nobody's,' said Mrs. Bangle}^ Coffin, I'-'utedly. ' "We came by train this year. Joey is suffering from a fit of economy — the result of o lire foot's behaviour at the Derby. It is about time for luncheon.' "Whereat ]Mr. Trifugis dropped his eyeglass and looked absently over his left shoulder, blushing hard. Then he screwed Lue eyeglass in again very tight, looked at us all with amiable indefiniteness, took off his hat, and departed. 'Little beast!' said ISIrs. Bangley Coffin, candidly ; ' there's not the slightest reason why he couldn't have given us all luncheon at the Lyric enclosure.' Then I began to see why it was so necessary that we should meet somebodv we knew — it meant sustenance. It was, as ^Ir. Trifugis had said, (piite time for sustenance, and neither the I^angley Coffin family nor I had had any since breakfast, and it it had not been for that consideration, which was naturally a serious one, I, for my part, w^ould have been delighted just tu go round, as we seemed likely to do, by ourselves. There was no band, as there never is in England — I suppose because Edward the Confessor or somebody didn't like bands ; but there was everything else that goes to give an occasion brilliance and variety — a mingling crowd of people with conventionally AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 231 picturesque clothes and interesting manners, sunliglit, flngs, a race-course, open boxes, an obvious thrill of excitement, a great many novel noises. Besides, it was Ascot, and its interest was intrinsic. ' I think we must try the drags,' said Mrs. Bangley Coffin — • and we defiled out into the crowd beyond the gates, whose dress is not original, that surges unremuneratively between the people who pay on the coaches and the people who pay on the Lawn. It was more amusing outside, though less exclusive — livelier, noisier. Men were hanging thick against the palings of the Lawn, with expressions of deep sagacity and coloured shirts, calling uninterruptedly, ' Two to one bar one ! ' ' Two to one Orveito ! ' and very well dressed young gentlemen occasionally came up and entered into respectful conference with them. We were jostled a good deal in the elbowing multitude, audit seemed to me to be always, as if in irony, by a man who sold ginger- bread or boiled lobsters. We made our way through it, how- ever, and walked slowly in the very sluidow of the drags, on top of which people with no better appetites than we had were ostentatiously feasting. We were all to look out for the Pibbly hats, and we did — in vain. ' I can't imagine,' said Mrs. Bangley Coffin to each of her daughters in turn, ' why ijoa didn't go witli them ! ' We saw Mr. Trifugis, and noted bitterly that he luul not been at all too late. An actress on the Lyric drag gave us a very frank and full-flavoured criticism of our dresses, but it was unsatisfying, except to the sensibilities. 'Shall we try behind, mamma?' asked one of the young ladies. * Who could possibly see us behind ? ' exclaiuied Mrs. Bangley Coffin, who was getting cross. Nevertheless, we did try behind, and somebody did see us — several very intelligent footmen. * la there no place,' I inquired for tlic fourth or fifth time, 232 AM AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ' where we could Jmij a little light refreshment?' Mrs. Bangley Coffin didn't say there was not, but seemed to think it so im- '^\- • ALWAYS, AS IF IN IROXV, HY A MAN WHO SOLD GINGERBREAD ' probable that it was hardly v,orth our while to look. ' Nobody lunches at Ascot, ^Miss Wick,' she said at last, with a little AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON !33 asperity, ' except on the drags or at the club enclosures. It's — it's impossible.' \ • AN ACTRESS ON THE LYRIC PRAO OAVK fS A VERY FRANK AND FULIi-FLAVOURED CRITICISM or Ol'R DRESSr.S ' 'Well,' I said, ' I think it's very unenterprising not to make provision for such a large number of people. If this were in 234 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON America ' But just then we came face to face with Colonel and Mrs. B. J. Silverthorn, of St. Paul's, Minnesota. To say that I was glad to see these old friends in this particular emergency is to say very little. I knew the Colonel's theory of living, and I was quite sure that starving for six hours on an English race- course had no place in it. I knew his generous heart, too, and was confident that any daughter of poppa's might rely upon it to the utmost. So, after introducing Mrs. and the Misses Bangley Coffin, I proceeded to explain our unfortunate situation. * Can you tell us,' I begged, * where we can get something to eat ? ' The Colonel did not hesitate a moment. * Come right along with me,' he said. ' It isn't just the Fifth Avenue Hotel, but it'll do if you're hungry, and I guess you are ! ' And we all followed him to the rather abridged seclusion of the restaurant behind the Grand Stand. The Colonel did it all very hand- somely — ordered champagne, and more dishes than twice as many people could have disposed of; but the cloud that rested upon the brows of Mrs. and the Misses Bangley Coffin did not disperse with the comforting influence of food, and they kept a nervous eye upon the comers and goers. I suppose they had waited too long for their meal really to enjoy it. We parted from Colonel and Mrs. Silverthorn almost im- mediately afterwards — they said they wanted to go and have another good look at the Royalties and Dukes in their own yard, and Mrs. Bangley Coffin thought it was really our duty to stay where Mr. Bangley Coffin might find us. So we went and sat in a row and saw the Gold Cup won, and shortly after took an early train for London, Mrs. Bangley Coffin declaring that she had no heart for another sovereign for the Paddock. On the way home she said she was sorry I had had such a dull day, and AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 235 that it was jier first and last attempt to ' screw ' Ascot. But I had not had at all a dull day — it had been immensely interest- ini^'-, to say nothing of the pleasure of meeting Colonel and Mrs. ►Sil'/erthorn. I quite agreed with ^Mrs. llangley Coffin, however, that it is better to make liberal arrangements for Ascot when you go as an Ascot person. 236 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XXII * T DON'T know what we were about to let ]\Iiss "Wick miss JL the Boats,' said Mr. MafFerton one clay, over liis after- noon-tea in Lady Torquilin's flat. I looked at Lady Torquilin, and said I thought ^Ir. Mafferton must be mist.'iken ; I liad never missed a boat in my life, and, besides, we liadn't been going anywhere by boat lately. Tlie reason we had put off our trip to llichmond live times was invariably because of the weather. I'eter Corke happened to be there that afternoon, too, though she didn't make much of a visit. ]\Iiss Corke never did stay very long when ls\\\ ^Mafferton was there — he was a person she couldn't bear. She never called him anything but ' That.' She declared you could see hundreds of him any afternoon in Piccadilly, all with the same hat and collar and expression and carnation in their button-holes. She failed to see why I should waste any portion of my valuable time in observing Mr. IMafferton, when I had still to see ' Dolly's Chop House,' and Guy the King-maker's tablet in Warwick Lane, and the Boy in Panyer Alley, and was so far unimproved by anything whatever relating to Oliver Goldsmith or Samuel Johnson. She could not understand that a profoundly unin- teresting person might interest you precisely on that account. But, ' Oh you aborigine ! ' she began about the Boats, and I presently understood another of those English descriptive termg by which you mean something that you do not sav. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 237 Tlio discussion umletl, very happily forme, in an arrangeniont suggested jointly by ^liss Corke and ^Ir. ^fafferton. Lady Torquilin and I should go to Oxford to see ' the Eights.' -NFr. jMafferton had a nephew at Pembroke, and no doubt the young cub would be delighted to look after na. Miss Corke's younger brother was at Jvxeter, and she would write to the dear bov jit once that ho must be nice to us. Peter was very sorry she couldn't come lierself — nothing would have given her greater pleasure, she said, than to show me all I didn't know in the Bodleian. I suppose we have rather a large, exaggerated idea of Oxford in America, thinkin didn't know exactly either — they'd always had it, he fancied ; and l^ady Torquilin explained that ' this young lady' — meaning me — could never be f-atisfied with hearing that a thing was s(j because it was so — she must always know the why and where- fore of everything, even when there was neither why noi where- fore; at which we all laughed and sat down to luncheon. But I privately made up my mind to ask an explanation of the Tor- pids from the first Oxford graduate with honours that I met, and I did. He didn't know either. He was not a boating-man, however; he had taken his hono ir; in (.Musics. J — AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 243 XXIII II Al) licanl so imicli from English sources of the precocity and forwardness of very young people in America, that I was quite l)repared to find a com- mendably opposite state of things in Knghind, and I must say that, generally speaking, I was not dis- appointed. Hie extent to \vhich voung ladies and gentlemen under twenty- two can sit up straight and refrain from conversa- tion here, impressed me as much as anything I have seen in society. I have not observed any of this shyness in married ladies o^ older gentlemen ; and that struck me oddly, too, for in America it is only with advancing years that we become conscious of our manners. I have no doubt that, if the Eights had been in America — where they would probably be called the Octoplets — and ]\Ir. Sanders Horton Ii.'kI been a Harvard Sophomore, and Lord R 2 244 ^^^^^ AMERICAN GIRL IX LOXDON Synioiids's father had made his fortune out of a patent slioe- lace-tag, and we liad all been enjoying ourselves over there, we might have noticed a difference both in the appearance and the behaviour of these young gentlemen. They would certainly have been older for their years, and more elaborately dressed. Their comjilexions would probjibly not have been so fresh, nor their shoulders so broad, and the pencilling ou Mr. Hortou's upper lip, and the delicate, fair marking on Lord Symonds's, would assuredly have deepened into a moustache. Their manners would not liave be».*n so negatively good as they were in Oxford, where they struck me as expressing tin ideal, above all things, to avoid doing those things which they ought not to do. Their politeness would have been more effusive, and not the least bit nervous ; though I hope neither ls\\\ Horton nor Lord Symonds will mind my implying that in Oxford they were nervous. People can't possibly help the way they liave been brought up, and to mo our host's nervousness was interesting, like his I'higlish accent, and the scout and the quad. Personally, I liked the feeling of superinducing bash fulness in two nice boys like those — it was novel and anuising — though I have no doubt they were much more afraid of J^ady Torquilin than of me. I never saw a boy, however, from twelve to twenty-three — which strikes me as the span of boyhood in England — that wr • not Lady Torquilin's attached slave after twenty minutes' conver- sation with her. She did not humour them, or Hatter them, or talk to them upon their particular subjects; she was simply what they called 'jolly' to them, and their appreciation was always prompt and lively. Lady Torquilin got on splendidly with both ^fr. Sanders Horton and Lord Symonds. The only reason why Mr. Horton's lunch was not an unqualifiedly brilliant success was that, whenever she talked to one of our hosts, the AN AMERICA X GIRL IN LONDON 245 other one was left for me to talk to, "which was usnallv tli^:- tressing for both of us. It was an extremely nice lunch, served with anxious defer- ence by the respectable-looking little man who had come upstairs, and nervously commanded by !^^^. Horton at one end with the cold joint, and Lord Symonds at the other with the fowl. It began, I remember, with homlhrn. Lady Torquilin partook of huiitllun, so did I ; but the respectable scout did not even offer it to the young gentlemen. I caught a rapid, inquiring glance from Lady Torquilin. Could it be that there was not honilbm enough ? The thought checked any utterance upon the subject, and we finished our soup with careful indifference, while Lord Symonds covered the awkwardness of the situation by expl tun- ing to me demonstratively the nature of a Bump. I did not understand Bumps then, nor did I succeed during the course of the afternoon in picking up enough information to write intelli- gently about them. But this was because Lord Symonds had no houillon. Under the circumstances, it was impossible for mo to put my mind to it. Presently ^Ir. ITorton asked us if he might give ua some salmon — not collectively, but individually and properly, Lady Torquillin first ; and we said he might. He did not help Lord Symonds, and rela'">sed himself, as it were, into an empty plate. It was Lady Torquilin's business to inquire if the young gentle- men were not well, or if salmon did not agree with them, and not mine ; but while I privately agitated this matter, I unobservantly helped myself to maijonnaine. ' I — I beg your pardon,' said IMr. Sanders Horton, in a pink agony ; ' that's cream ! ' So it was, waiting in a beautiful old-fashioned silver pitcher the advent of those idylls that come after. It was a critical moment, for it instantly flashed upon me that the 246 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON respectable pcout had forgotten the maijoniuilaCj and that I had been the means of making Air. Si ders Horton very uncom- fortable indeed. Onlv one thinjj occurred to me to sav, for which I hope I may be forgiven. ' Yes,' I returned, ' we like it with fish in America.' At which jMr. Horton looked in- terested and relieved. And I ate as much of the mixture as 1 could with a smile, though the salmon had underofone a vinejjfar treatment which made this diffi- cult. ' It is in Boston, is it not,' remarked Lord Svmonds politely, ' that the people livo almost entirely upon beans?' And the conversation flowed quite generally until the advent of the fowl. It was a large, well-conditioned chicken, and when the young gentlemen, apparently by mutual consent, refrained from partaking of it^ the situation had reached a desrree of unreasonableness which was more than Lady Torquilin could endure. ' Do you mtend to eat no- thing ? ' she inquired, with the air of one who will accept no prevarications. • THE RESPECTABLE SCOUT.' AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 2.\'/ ' Oh, we'd iike to, but we can't,' they replied, earnestly and siinultaneously. ' We're still in trainin<»', you know,' Lord Synionds went on. ' Fellows have got to train pretty nnich on stodge.' And at this juncture ]\Ir. Horton solemnly cut two slices of the cold beef, and sent them to his friend, helping himself to the same quantity with mathematical exactness. 1'hen, with plain bread, and gravity which might almost be called severe, they attacked it. Lady Torqnilin and I looked at each other rep. )achfully. This privation struck us as needless and extreme, and it had the uncomfortable moral effect of turning our own repast into a liacchanalian revel. AVe frowned, we protested, we besouglit. AVe suggested with insidious temptation that this was the last day of the races, and that nobody would know. We commended each particular disii in turn, in terms we thought most appetis- ing. It was very wrong, and it had the sting which drives wrong-doing most forcibly home to the conscience, of being entirely futile, besides engendering the severe glances of the respectable scout. The young gentlemen were as adanuint, if adamant could blush. They would not be moved, and at every fresh appeal they concentrated their attention npon their cold beef in a manner which I thought most noble, if a trille ferocious. At last they began to look a little stern and disapproving, and we stopped, conscious of having trenched disrespectfully upon an ideal of conduct. But over the final delicacy of Mr. Horton's lunch, the first of the season. Lady Torqnilin regarded them wistfully. ' Not even gooseberry tart ? ' said she. And I will not say that there was no regret in the courageous rejoinder : ' Not even gooseberry tart.' I am not pretending to write about the things that ought to have impressed mo most, but the things that did impress mo \' 248 Ay AMERICAN GIRL LV LONDON most, and these wero, at ]\Ir. Saiitlers llortou's lunclieon, tlic splendid old silver college goblets into which our host poured u> lavish bumpers of claret-cup, the moral support of the respect- able scout, and the character and dignity an ideal of duty m:i possess, even in connection with cold beef. I came into severi contact with an idiom, too, which I shall always associate witl that occasion. Lord Symonds did not belong to Pembroke College, and I asked him, after we had exchanged quite a good deal of polite conversation, which one he did belong to. - , ' How lovely these old colleges are,' I remarked, ' and so nice and impressive and time-stained. Which one do you attend, Lord Symonds?' ' Maudlin,' said Lord Symonds, apparently taking no notice of my question, and objecting to the preceding sentiment. 'Do vou think so?' I said. I was not oITended. I had made up my mind some time before never to be offended in England until I understood things. ' I'm very sorry, but they do strike an American that way, you know.' Lord Symonds did not seem to grasp my meaning. ' It is jolly old,' said he. 'Not so old as some of 'em. New, for instance. 1' c I thought you asked my college. Maudlin, just this side of Maudlin bridge, you know.' ' Oh ! ' I said. * And will you be kind enough to spell your college. Lord Symonds ? I am but a simple American, over here partly for the purpose of improving my mind.' 'Certainly. " ]\I-a-g-d-a-l-e-n,"' returned Lord Symonds, very good-naturedly. ' Now that you speak of it, it u rather a rum way of spelling it. Something like " Cholmondeley." Now, how would you spell " Cholmondeley ? " * I was glad to have his attention diverted from my mistake, but the reputation of ' Cholmondeley ' is world-wide, and I I AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 249 Spelled it triunipliantly. I should like to confront an American spelling-match with ' ^.lagdalen,' though, and about eleven other valuable orthographical specimens that I am taking care of. In due course we all started for the river, finding our way 1' rough quads even greyer and greener and cpiieter than i']xeter, and finally turning into a pretty, wide, tree-bordered higlnvay, much too well trodden to be a popular Lovers' Walk, but dustily pleasant and shaded withal. We were almost an hour too early for the races, as ^Ir. Ilorton and Lord Symonds wished to take us on the river before they were obliged to join their respective crews, and met hardly anybody except occat-ional strolling, looso- garmented undergraduates with very various ribbons on their round straw hats, which they took off with a kind of spasmodic I gravity when they happened to know our friends. The tree- 5 bordered walk ended more or less abruptly at a small stream, bordered on its hither side by a series of curious constructions reminding one of all sorts of things, from a Greek war:^hip to a Methodist churcl in Dakota, and wonderfully painted. These, Mr. Ilorton explained, were the College barges, from which the race was viewed, and he led the way to the Exeter barge. There is a stairway to these barges, heading to the top, and !^^r. Ilorton showed us up, to wait until ho and Lord Symonds got out the punt. The word 'punting' was familiar to me, signifying an aquatic pursuit jiopular in England, but I had never even seen a punt, and was very curious about it. I cannot say, however, that the English punt, when our friends brought it round, struck me as a beautiful object. Doubtless it had points of excellence, even of grace, as compared with other punts — I do not wish to disparage it — but I suffered from the lack of a I 250 AN AMERICAN CIRL IN lONDON standard to admire it by. It seemed to me an niiinterestinpf vessel, and I did not like the way it was cut off at the ends. The mode of propulsion, too, by which ^Ir. Horton and Lord 8ymonds got us around the river — ])()liLV 257 IVter loved tlio StiiMid suid l''l»><'t Streft. jilniosfc us woll as J)r. Joliiisoii did, and slie ulwjiys wore dinn'f. dosaMnlMiits of tlu^ Beven-li'ii<:^ue boots. Tlils was soiuctimrs a little tryiii<^' for mine, which had no |UMli(^Mve, thoiipfh, in other respects ; hut I must not ))e led into thf statenuMit, that shoeniakin^' is n<»f seitMitilic- nlly Jipprehendt'd in this country. I luive never yet hren nhlo to ufet anybody to believe it. ' This,' sjiid Miss (*orke, as we etiuMyed IVoni a d.irk littlo alley occupied by two uninu///led small boys juid a do*^ into a diufjfy rectiui^de, where the iiOiidon liu'lit came down upon nn- blinkinj' rows of windows in wiills of jill colours that iret tlie worse for woir 'tliis is (MMigh Court. \)\\ .brhnson lived here until the death of his wife, ^'ou remember th;il he had a wile, ; nd she died ? ' ' I hiive not the least doubt (»l'it,' I r.-plii-d. '!"v(^ no patience with you!' crie(l Mi>s Corhe, I'erviMitly. ' Well, when she died ho was that disconsolate, in spitt^ of his dictionaries, that he couldn't bear it here any lonu^er, and moved away.' 'I don't think that was remarkable,' 1 said, lookinpj round; " to which ^Iiss C\)rke replied that it was a line place in thosjj day'<, and Jcjhnson paid so many jiounds, shilliuLTs, jmd ])ence rent for it every Ladv Dav. ' I am waifinLT.' she said, with ironical resignation, 'for you to ask me whieli lioti: e.' 'Oh!' said I. 'Which house?' 'That yellowish one, at the end, idjit!' said Tei-r with exasperation. ' Now. if you please, well go! ' I took one long and thouirhtful look at the yellowish houso at the end, and tried to imagine the compilation of lexicons inside its walls about the year 17 58, and turned away feeling that I Lad done all within my personal ability for the memory of Dr. 8 258 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Johnson. !A[iFS Corke, liowever, was not of tl'at oi»inion, * He moved to Johnson's Court soniowluit hiter,' slio said, ' whicli von must hn carofid to ronifMuhor was nol named from liini. AWIl jtist fjfo tlioi'o now.' ' Ik it far ? ' I asked ; ' becjiu.sc tliere must Ije otlier cehdu'i- 1 ics ' '' YnvV r('j)caied Miss Corke, with a witlieriiiL,' accent ; ' nob ten minutes' walk! J)o the trams run crrnji'-hrrc in Anu'rica? There may bo otlier celebrities — London is a p^ood place for them — ])ut therr's only ono 8amuei .lolmson.' Wo went throujj^li various crooked wiys to Johnson's Court, | !Miss Corke exphiininllier"s ' Mnglish Jiiterature ' at sdiool, and asked me if by any chrnuM' F had ever heard of ]?oswell. I loved to find myself knowing something occasionally, just to annoy ]*ett'r, and when I said certainly, lie was the man to whom J)r. Johnson owed his rcpu- talion, it had (Uiite the usual effect. 'We shall now go to l^olt Court,' said my friend, 'where Sanniel spent the last of his days, surrounded by a lot of old ladies that 1 don't see how lie ever jiut up with, and from which he was carried to Westminster Abbey in 1781-. Hadn't you better put that down ? ' Now J'eter Corke would never have permitted me t(» call Dr. Johnson 'Samuel.' I looked round Johnson's Court wilh lingering afreclinu, and [hung back. ''I'here is something about this place,* J said, some occult attraction, that makes me hate to leave it. i [believe, Peter, that the I'ast, under your influence, is beginning Ito afl'ect me properly. I dislike the thought of remaining for iny length of time out of reach, as it were, of the memory of Dr. Johnson.' Pc'cr looked at me suspiciously, 'lie lived at Dolt Court IS well,' she said. * Nowhere between hero and there ? ' I asked. ' No friend's 'Use, for instance, where he often spent the night? Where I that lady live who used to give him nineteen cups of tea at ■ 2 26o AX AMERICylX GIKT IX LOXP KY a sitting? Couldn't wo pause and ri'fn'sli ourselves l)y looking' at her portals on the way ? ' ' Transatlantic import inonco,' crii'd Miss Corke, leading tlio way out, ' is more than T can l)ear ! ' ' But,' I said, still hanging ])ack, • al)out how far ?' AVhen my dear friend gave vent to tho little scpieal with which she received this, I know that lier feelings wei'e worked up to a point where it was dangerous to tamper with them, sol sub- mitted to Bolt (/ourt, walking with luimility all the way. When we finally arrived J could see no intrinsic diflerence between this court and the others, except that rather more — recently — current literature had blown up from an adjacent news-stall. For a person who changed his residence so often, Dr. Johnsons domestic tastes must have undergone singularly little altera- tion. 'lie went from here to AVesttuiuster Abbey, I think yoii said,' 1 remarked, respect fid ly, to Peter. ' In 1781,' said IVtor, who is a stickler for dates. ' And has not moved s'nce ! ' I added, with some anxiety, just to aggravate IVter, who was duly aggravated. ' Well,' I responded, ' we saw Westminster Abbey, yon remember. And I took particular notice of the monument to Dr. Johnson. AVe needn't go ikerc.^ 'It's in St. Paul's! ' said Peter, in a mamier which woundeil me, for if there is an unpleasant thing it is to be disbelieved. ' And which house did ]Jr. Johnson live in here ? ' I inquired. ' Come,' said Peter, solemnly, ' and I'll show you.' ' It has been lost to posterity,' she continued, with dcpre slon — ' burnt in 1819. But wo have the site — there ! ' ' Oh ! ' I replied. ' We have the site. That is — that i- I AX AMEBIC AX GIRL IX LOXDOX 261 sometliing, I siijipose. But T don't find it very istiiuulating to tlu' iiM{igin:itiut I've noticed that at honu? liardiv anv <'f the I'jiylish classics have much chance against liider Haggard, and now that Jiudyard Kipling has arisen it will b(^ worse still for ehh'Hy respectable authors like Dr. .bthnson. So that v.hile I was deej)ly interested to know that th»^ great lexicographer had hallowed such a con- siderable part of London with his resideiu'e, 1 must coid'ess, to be candid, that I would have been satislieil with fewer (,f his architectural renudns. 1 could have done, for instance, without the site, thouyh 1 dare sav, as IV'ter savs, thev were all jjfood I'or me. Before I reached Lady 'i'onpulin's flat again that day, Peter showed me tlui particular window in Wine Otlice (,'ourt where dear little (Joldsnuth sat deploring the baililf ami the landlady when Dr. Johnson took the ' \ icar ' awav and sold it for sixtv pounds- -that delightful old fairy godfather whom everybody knows so nuich better than as the author of ' IJasselas.' And the ' Cheshire Cheese,' on the (jt her siile of the way, that (puuntesfc of low-windowed tavi'rns, where the two sat with their friends over the famous pudding that is still served on the same day of the week. Here I longed in especial to go inside and inrpnre about the pudding, and when we might come down and huvo 2(2 AX AMERICAN GIRL /.V LONDON pome; Ijiifc IVter said it was not proper for ladies, and hurried me on. As if any impropriety could linger about a place a luiiidred and fifty years old! Tlio Temple also wo saw tliat day, and (Joldsmitirs quiet, solitary grave in the shadow of the old Knights' Church, more interesting and lovable there, somehow, than it would be in the crowd at Westininstt*r. ]\iiss Peter Corke was entirely delight- ful ill the Ti'mple, whether she talked of CJoldsmith's games and daneing over lilackstone's sedate head in llrick Court, or of I'llizabi'th sitting on the wide platform at the end of the ^fiddle Temple Ifall at the first performance of 'Twelfth Night,' where, fcomewherc beneath those dusky oidc rafters, Shakespeare nuide anotlu'r critic. Peter never talked scandal in the present tense, on princi [)!(', but a more interesting gossip than she was of a centuiT back I never had a cup of tea with, which we got not BO V(>ry far from the Cock 'J'avern in Fleet Street ; and I had never kjjown before that Mr. Pepys was a flirt. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 263 XXV 1{. :\IAFFKim')N fivqnontly t'xpivssi'd Ill's rc^MVt tliat al- most imincdiiili'lv afhT my arrival in l.ojidoii — in fact, (.hiring' tlic tiiiu* of my dis- ai>i)t'amiK'e from tlie Mrtro- pole, and just as lie In'camt^ aware of mv lic'in«f with I^adv Torqiiiliii — liis molluT and two sisters liad \)vv\\ oljlio-cd to «jro to llie Ivivit'r.'^oii ac- (■•iint of one of tlie Misses MafcrtoiTs licallli. One aflenioou — tlie dav bcfoi'e tliey left, I believe — Lady Torfpiilin and T, cominjjf in, found a larije assortment of cards belonyfiiiLT to tin' familv, wliicli wi-re to be divided between us, aj)parently. Hut, as Mr. CliarK's Mafferton was the only one of them left in town, my aecjuaint- ance with tlie ^fattertons had made very little progress, i>xcept, of course, with the portly old cousin 1 have mentioned before, who was a lord, and who staved in London throuufh the entire session of l*arliament. 'j'his cousin and 1 became so well ac- cjuuinted, in spite of his bein<( a lord, that we used to ask each other conundrums. ' What dothevcall a black cat in London':'' was a favourite one of his. But I had the advantat'c of Lord 264 AA' AMF.KICAX GIRL L\ LOXDOX Mafrerton liero, for be always forgot that he had asked the samo conundrum the last time we met, and tliou^^ht lue tremendously clever when I aiis\v»'red, ' Puss, puss ! ' iiut, as I have said before, there were very fi'W parliculars in wliich this nobleinuii ^Ijratilied my inlieritfd i(h'a (»!' w hat a lord ought to he. One of the Misses MatftTtDU the oui* who enjoyed good liealth — had very kiu'ilv taken tlie tr<»uble to write to me from the Iviviera anice friendly letter, saying how sorry they all were that we did not meet befon^ they left Town, and asking me to malvt! them a visit as soon as tiiey retiirned in June. 'J'he letter went on to sav that they had share«l their bn^ther's anxiety about me for some time, but felt (juite comfortable in the thought of leaviug me so happily situated with liady Tonjuilin, an old friend of their own, and was it not singular? Miss Mafferton exclaimed, iu lier jioiuled handwriting, signing herself mine eyer alfectionately, I']. I"\ Mafl'ertou. I thouLfht it was certainly singulai'ly nice of her to write to me like that, a ju'rfect stranger; and while I com[)osed an answer in the most cordial terms I could, \ thought of all I had heard about the hearty hos[)itality of the Knglish — ' when once you know them.' When I told Afr. MafH'rton I had lieard from his sister, and how much ])leasun^ the letter had given nu», lie blushed in the most violent and unaccountable manner, but seemed pleased nevertheless. It was odd to st>e ^fr. Mafferton discomposed, and it discomposed me. I could not in the least understand why his sister's politeness to a friend of his should embarrass !^^r. ^lafferton, and was glad when he said he had no doubt Kleanor and I would be great i'riends, and clianged the subject. But it was about this time that another invitation from relativesj of Mr. Afaflerton's living in Bi-rkshire gave me my one always- , ti>-be-remembered experience of the country in England. Lady I /IX AMERICA X (i/h'f. /.y /O.V/UKV 2^$ Torquilin was invited \i')iK l>ut tin- iii\ itatli.ii was for a 'l\ioslatform, but jnst outside tlie station 1 saw a rusty old eoaehman seated on tlie box of an open landau, so [ spoke to him. ' Doe; that train ^^o to lMid)ury?' I asked. Ib> said it did. ' Dues it ;e Americjins more tlian the omni- potence of the tip. Two of the Stacy young ladies met me on the I'inbury phil- firm, and gave me quite the most cluinning welcome [ have liad in England. AVith the exct^pti thev lost themselves in the blue dis- tance, in an etlbrt to climb. It was a lovely landscape, full of pleasant thoughts, ideally still and gently conscious, '^fhere was the glint of a river in it, white in the sun, Avitli twisting lines of round-headed willows markinp- which wav it went : and other trees in groups and rows threw soft shadows across the contented fields. These trees never blocked the view ; one could always see over and beyond them into other peaceful stretches, with other clumps and lines, greyer and smaller as they neared the line where the low, blue sky thickened softly into clouds and came closer down. An occasional spire, here and there a farmhouse, queer, old-fashioned hayricks gossiping in AN A ME RICA X GIRL {X LOXDOX 271 tlip corners of tlio fiekls, cows, liorsep, cr(»\vs. All jis if if luid been painted by a tenderly conscientious artist, who economised Jn's carmines and allowed himself no caprices except, in the tattered hedge, full of ^lay, in the foivgronnd ; all as if Nature liad understood a woman's chief duty to be tidy and delectable, except for this ragged liem of lier endiroidered petticoat. I dare say it would not seem so to you ; but the country as I liad hiiown it in America had been an expanse of glowing coloui", diversified by a striking pattern of snake-fences, relieved by woods that nobody had ever })lanted, and adorned by tlie bare, commanding ])rick residences of the agricultural population. Consequently, deliglitful as I found thiy glimpse of English scenery, I could not combat the idea that it liad all been care- fully and beautifully made, and was usually kept under cotton- wool. You would understand this if you knew the important })art played in our rural districts by the American stump. ' Isn't it lovely?' asked Miss Stacy, witli enthusiasm. Two cows in the middle distance suddenly disappeared behind a hiiy- rick, and for a monuMit the values of the landscape became con- fused. kStill, 1 was able to say that it w/s lovely, and so neat — • which opinion I was obliged to explain to ^Miss 8tacy, as I have to you, while the brown pony took us thoughtfully on. 27'* AV A.]//-/aCAX CINL IN LONDON XXVI V "m. i>lv<)\r: in nf (lie ^ates cf f l;illinoff)ii Jioiisc as om^ i)ii,ulil (li'ivc into the scene f»f a dear old dream — a dreajii tlial one lias lialf-helieved and lialf-douhted, and wholly 1(»V((I and dreamed wm\\\\ all one's life lonjjf. There it si o' 1(1, jis I had alway;; wondered if I might not see it standin<]f in that far day when I shonld go to Ihio'hnid, hcliind its liioU bilck wall, in the midst of its ivies p/id labnrnnms and t>lnis and lanre^bnshes, looking across where its lawns dijijied into its river at soft green meadows sloping to the Vv'est - a ])lain old s's and I'l'sponsible in({iiirit'S. So (lid the S(jniiv, conun^' (»u! of his stndy to ask, with cdui'teons oKl-lashit)ned solicit luh', lu»\\ I had borne tlie fatin-iie of tlu' journey — sncli a deli<^]itrul nM S(iiiirt', Ud't over by accident from tlie last century, witli liis Infill-bred i)hraseoh)Lry and siniijlo iliynity and !>'reat friendliness. So did tlu^ rest of the Stacy daugliters, clustering round their parents ;ind their guest and the teajiot, talking gaily \\ith tlieir rounded Knglisli accent of all luauner of things the South Kensington Museum, the I'inbury coiiiniissions, the prospects for tennis. I'resently 1 found myself taken throuu'h iust such narrow cor ridors and down just such une\])ected step.^ as I would have hoped for, to my room, and left there. I remember how a soft wind canu^ putling in at the little low, tiny-paiied window Hung l)ack on its hinges, swelling out the musliu curtains and brinn-- iiig with it tho sweetest S(jund I heard in l*]ngland — a cry that was quite new and strange, and yet came into me from the quieb liedges of tlie nestling world outside, as J sat there bewitched by it, with a plaintive familiarity — ' C/zrkoo ! ' . . . 'Cuckoo!' I must have heard it and loved it yeai'S ago, when the AVicks lived in iMigland, through the ears of niy ancestors. Then I discovered that the room was full of a dainty scent that I had not known before, ami traced it to multitudinous little round llower-bunches, palest yellow and palest green, that stood about iu everything that would hold them — fresh and pure and deli- cious, all the tender soul of the spring in them, all the fairness of the meadows and the love of the shy Enn-lish sun. Ah, the (liarui of it! It is almost worth while being broimht up in .'vhicago to come fresh to cuckojs and cowslips, and learn their T 274 -^A' AMERICAX GIRL IX LOXDOX sweet meaning when you are grown up and can understand It. I mean, of course, entirely apart from the inestimable advan- tages of a Republican form of Government, female emancipation, and the climate of Illinois. "Wo have no cowslips in Chicago, and no cuckoos ; and the cable cars do not seem altogether to mal:o up for them. I couldn't lielp wi^liing, as I leaned througli my low little window into the fragrant peace out:iide, that Nature had taken a little more time with America. ' ^ '//'koo ! ' from the hedge again! I could not go till the answer came from the toppling elm-boughs in the field corner, ' ' V/( koo ! ' And in another minute, if I listened, I should hear it again. ])own below, in tlio meantime, out came two tidy little maids in cap and apion, and began to weed and to potter about two tidy little plots — their own little gardens anybody might know by the solicitude and the comparisons they indulged in — the freedom, too, with which they pulled what pleased them- selves. It was pretty to see the little maids, and I fell to con- jecturing such a scene In connection with the domestic duchcsy of Chicago, but without success. Her local interest could never ' be sufficiently depended upon, for one thing. INIarguerite might plant, and Irene might water, but Arabella Maud would cer- tainly gather the fruits of their labour, if she kepther place loui enough. And I doubt if the social duties of any of these ludic would leave them time for such idvlls. ' CVc'koo ! ' The bird caught it from the piping of the very iirst lover's very first love-dream. How well he must ha\i listened! . . . ' (7<^c'koo ! ' I bade ]\Iis9 Dorothy Stacy come in when I lieard her knocl and voice ; and she seemed to bring with her, in her innoceii strength and youth and pinkness, a very fair and harmoniou: , AX AMERICAN GlIU. IX LOXDON 75 counterpart of the cowslips and the cuckoos. Slio came to know if I w su't coming down to tea. ' Listen ! ' I said, ay the sweet 111. pjffiiff ' TWO TIDY LITTLE MAIDS.' [TV came asfain. 'I was waiLini? till he had finislicd.' It was ijetter than no excuse at all. T 2 276 AN AMERICAN CIRL IN LONDON * I tliiuk I can show j'ou from here where I siis2)ect they havf stolen a nest, lazy things!' answered ^liss Dorothy, sympatheti- cally, and she slipped her arm round my waist as we looked oul of the winJow together in the suspected direction. ' 'J'hen you don't find them tiresome ? Some people do, you know.' ' No,' 1 said, 'I don't.' And then Miss Dorothy confided to me that she was very glad; ' for, you know,' she said, ' one cuiLt like people who find cuck(Jos tiresome,' and we concluded that we really must go down to tea. At that point, however, I was obliged to asl; Miss Dorothy to wait until I did a little towards improving my appearance. I had quite forgotten, between the cuckoos and the cowslips, that I had come up principally to wash my face. ' You met our cousin on the ship crossing the Atlantli*, didn't you?' the third JMiss Stacy remarked, enthusiastically over the teapot. ' llow delightfully romantic to make a— a friend — a frieiul like iJiaf, I mean, on a ship in the middle of the ocean ! ])idn't you always feel perfectly comfortable after- wards, as if, no matter what happened, he would be sure to save you ? ' ' KHtij ! ' said ]\rrs. Stacy from the sofa, in a tons of lielpless rebuke. ' Mother, darling ! ' said Kitty, ' I Jo beg your pardon I Your tiaughter always spesd-cs first and thinks aftei'wards, doesn't she, sweetest mother ! Ihit you must have had that feeling,' Miss Stacy continued to me ; ' I know you had ! ' ' Oh, no ! ' 1 returned. It was rather an jiwkward situation • — I had no wish to disparage Miss Stacy's cousin's heroism, which, nevertheless, I had not I'elied upon in the least. ' 1 don't think I thought about being drowned,' I said. 'That proves it ! ' she cried in triumph. ' Y'our confidenci^ was so perfect that it was unconscious ! Sweetest mother — there, I won't say another word ; not another syllable, mother .7.V AMEh'lCAX CiRf. IX /.(l\7hKV 277 mint', shall pass your claui^liter's lips! Hut oin' '/'»>■ likt> to rliow one's self in tlio vi)^]\f, docsiri nii(>, .Miss Wick?' — and ^\vF-. >Stacv surrenilt'ivil to an iinnnlsivo voUnne of cnibracos wliicli desccMided from boliind the sofa, v^hit'lly upon lln' Ifack (if IitT neck. How [)lcasant it was, that live o'clock (e.-i-di-inkini^Mn thcold- fa^hionctl drawin^j^-rooin, with the jessamine noddin;^^ in at the window and all the family cats <(athered upon the heartlirn<^ — live in nundxT, with one kitten. Tla^ Stacy's cempromiso in the perjX'tually-recui'riiiL,' jirnLlem of now kittens was to keep only the representative of a single generation for famil}' alVec- tion and drawing-room privih^ges. The tosIj were obscurely brought up i]i the stables and locatetl as early as was en- tirely humane with respectable cottagers, or darkly spoken of as 'kitchen cats.' Tiiero liad been onlv one break in the line of posterity that gravely licked itself on the rug, or Ijesought small favours rubbingly with purrs -made by a certain Satanella, who afe licr kHfevs ! and suffered banishment in consequence. I)ut this was confided to me in undertones by the second Miss Stacy, who begged me not to mention the matter to ])orothy. ' We don't talk about it often, for Satanella was lier cat, you know, and she can't get over her behaving so dreadfully.' I'kcli cat had its individual history, and to the great-great- grandmother of them attached the thrilling tale, if I remember rightly, of having once only escaped hanging by her own mus- cular endurance and activity; out mme bore so dark a bbt as covered the memory of Satanella. I'erhaps it is partly owing to my own fondness for pussies, but ever since I made the acquaintance of the Stacys I must confe'SS to disparaging a family with no cats in it. It was naturally Dorothy who took me out to see tlie 278 AN AM/:iaC.\X GIRI. IX I.OXDON gai'ilcn — sweet, shy Dorotliy, wlio sceiiu'd ^o cninplett'ly toli.'ive ^•own ill w. i^ardcn tliat. I^ady 'rnrfiiiiliii, wlicii sIk* Lroii^'lit licr pink cheeks uf'terwards to glathlen llio flat in (ud(>;^Mn ;^[,insi()iis, didjlKHl lier ' tlie Wild liose ' nt once. At any rale, J)(»r()l]iy had always lived just here heside her «,'arden, and never unywhere else, for she lold me so i;: e.\|»laining her affee- lion for it. 1 thought of (lu' number of limes we had moved in Chicago, and sighed. It was not w very mcthodleal garden, Dorotliy remarked in apology — the dear sweet Ihings mostly came up of their own accord year after yeiir, and the oidy andntion IVter entci'taincd towards it was to kct^}) it reasonably weeded. A turn in tin' walk disclosed I'ebu* at the moment with a wheelbarrow — the factotum of garden and stable, a solemn bumpkin of twenty, with a l.'irgo red face and a demeanour of extreme lethargy. His countenance broke into something like a deferential grin as he passed us. 'Can yon make him understand?' I asked Miss Dorothy. ' Oh, I should think so!' she repliinl. 'Jle is very intelligent !' From liis appearance 1 should not have said so. There was nothing ' sharp,' as wo say in America, about Peter, though afterwards I heard liim whistling 'Two lovely black eyes' with a volume of vigorous expression that made on(3 charge liim with private paradoxical sweethearting. But I was new to the human product after many generations of the fields and hedges. It was a square garden, shut in from the road and the neighbours by that high old red-brick wall. A tennis-court lav in the middle in the sun ; the house broke into a warmly-tinted gable, red-roofed and plastered and quaint, tliat nestled over the little maids in the larder, I think, at one end; a tall elm and a spreading horse-chestnut helped the laurestinus bushes to /I A' AMERICAN C.IRI. IX lA^XDOX z:s antl In'ought it up again in a perfectly stra' /it line, and without any change of expression whatever. It seemed to me a singular and most atnusing demonstration, aiul ]\liss JJorothy explained that it was a curt- sey — a very proper mark of respect. 'But surely,' she said, *your little cottnger girls in America curtsey to the ladies and gentlemen tliey nu^et ! ' And Mi-;s ])orotliy found it diflicult to understand just why the curtsey was not a popular genntlection in America, even if we had any little cottager girls to practise it, which J did not think we had, exactly. l>ater on we gathered I'ound a fire, with the cats, under the quaint old portraits of very straight-backed dead-and-gono ladies Stacy in the drawing-room, and 1 told all 1 knew about the Apache Indians and Niagara Falls. I think I also set the minds of the Stacy family at rest about the curious idea that we want to annex Canada — they had some distant relations there, I believe, whom thev did not want to see annexed — although it appeared that the relations had been heterodox on the subject, and had said they wouldn't particularly mind! I suggested that they were probably stock-raising in the North- west out there, and found our tariff inconvenient; and the Stacys said Yes, they were. I continued that the union they would like to see was doubtless commercial, and not political ; 282 AX AMERICAN (URL IX LOXDOX und the Stacys, wlicn llicy lliouii'lit of this, lu'caiiic more cheerful. Further ou, the Scjiiirc hniidcd uv a silver candlestick at the foot of tlie stairs with the courtliness of thi'ee generations past; and as I went to Led by candle-light for the first time iu my life, I 'mil;!:; DuKOTJIY KXI'LAINKI) that it WAU a CUliTEEY.' wondered whether 1 wouhl not suddenly arrive, like this, at the end of a chapter, and find that 1 Jiad just l)een reading one of lihoda l^roniifhton's novels. Jkit in the morning it came in at the window with the scent of the lilacs, and I undoubtedly heard it again — ' Cuckoo !'...' C/".'koo ! ' J.y AMr./UCAX GIRL IN LONDON 283 XXVII 'TTAVEX'T you .MMiio letters, cliild, to your Amba.'^SiuIor, or J-L ^vllateve^ lie is, ]u>iv iu London?' asked Jiady TorquilMi one mornin<^. ' Why, yes,' I said, ' J have. I'd forgotten about thein. lie is quite an old friend of poppa's— in a political way ; but poppa advised me not to lx)ther liini so long as I wasn't in any difliculty — he must have such lots of Americans coming over liere for the summer and fussing round every year, you know. And I haven't been.' 'Well, you must now,' declared J^ady Torquilin, 'for I want you to go to Court with me a fortnight from to-day. It's five years since I've gone, and quite time ^ should put iu an appear- ance again. Besides, the Maff'ertons wish it.' ' The ^laffertons wish it ? ' I said. ' Dear me ! I consider that extremely kind. 1 suppose they think I would enjoy it very much. And 1 dare snv I should.' 'Lady MafFerton and 1 talked it over yesterday,' Lady Tor- quilin continued^ 'and we agreed that although either she or I might present you, it would be more properly done, on account of your Ijeing an American, by your American man's wife. Indeed, I dare say it's obligatory. 80 we must see about it.' And liudy Torquilin and J^ady Mafferton, with very little assistance from nie, saw about it. In the moment that succeeded the slight shock of the novel :84 AX AMi:i tlnMu-it's 1 bad liocn brought up upon. It took entire ] ■ ts.scssion of me — I cimld not reason it away. Even in reading' my licnie lrt!(M's, nliicli nsually abstracted uio altogether fov tlie time, I saw it llntlering round the corners o^ tie pages. 'What would they say,' I thought, ' if they knew \ wjis going to be presen(((l to the Queen — tlieir daugliter, Mamie Wick, of liliiiois?' Would they considfU' tliat 1 had coni- pr()inis(MJ the sli-ict Iv^'puMican principles of tin' family, and reproljale the proceeding! The idea ga\'e me a momentary con- £cience-chilb which soon passed oil". 1io\\e\(M*, under the agreeable recollection of [)oppa"s having once said that he considered Her jNIajesty a very tine woman, and for his [)art he would be jiroud to be introduced to her. After all. heing ])resented was only a ■way of being introduced to Ikm- the way they do it in Kngland. I felt pretty sure the family princi[)les could stand that much. Asa matter of fact, you know, \cry few AnuM-icans have any ])crsonal objection to jdyalty. And 1 dismissed the idea, abandoning myself to the joy of preparation, which Jiady Tor- cpiilin decreed should begin the \vy\ next day. I thought this, though pleasurable, rather unnecessary at first. 'Dear Lady Torquilin,' said I, in the discussion of our Court dresses, ' can't we see about them next Aveek ? — Ave planned so many other things for this one ! ' ' Child, chikl,' returned Lady Torquilin, impressively, ' in the coming fortnight we htive h'irch/ time ! You must know that we don't do things by steam and electricity in tliis country, ^'ou can't go to Court, by pressing a button. We haven't u moment to lose. And as to other arrangements, we must just give everything up, so as to have our minds free and comfortable till we get the whole business over.' Afterwards, about the ^A AMERICAN GIRL L\ LOXI)(>X 2^- '• ' WUOEVEn HEARD OP ATTENDING ONE OK HKU .MA.IKS 1 v's DRAWING llOOilS IN A riiUv-'K .MADE IN NEW \01Ui ! " ' 286 AN AM ERIC AX GIRL IN I.OXDoX seventh time I liatl my Court tlres^ tiieil on, I became con- vinced tliat Lady Torquilin was right. You do nolhing by steam and electricity in tliis country. I found that it took ten days to get a pair of satin slippers made. Though, 'of course, if yon were not qiilta so particular, miss, about that toe, or if you 'ad come about them tul .^Iimild I liavo tlu^ train or the petticoat of tlio brocade, or would T prefer a bengaliue train with a bodice and petticoat of crrj>c (h chine? Should the train come from the slionldor or bo ' fullml ' in at tlie waist; and what did I really tliink myself about ostrich tips grouped down ono side, 0-; bunches of lield llcwt-r.-; dispersed upon llif petticoat, or just a f^iKjijc^tinii of fiilv<'r cmbi'Miili'iy cjeiiinini^' nil througli; or perliaps ma(]i'ui(ii,-flle miijlil rimcy ;m l']nii>ri'ss o'uwu, wliieli would bo tliorouti'lilv s. ' ATy deai',' slio exclaimed, candidly, ' a wi'dding-di'ess is iKjlliiinj to it; as I dare say,' she added, roguishly pinching my cheek in a way she had ' it won't be lovig before vou find out!' But I don't think Lady Torquilin really knew at the time anytlung about this. It was not too much to say tli:if tlios;' two Court dresses — Lady Torquilin was going in a selienii' of ])ansy-coloured velvet and heliotrope — haunted our waking and slee[)ing liours for quite five days. IVter Corke, di-opping in almost at the beijinninjjf, declared it a disLTacefid wnsh^ of tinii\ with tho whole of Clielsea a dead-leller to uie, and came again almo.it every afternoon that week to counsel and collaborate for an hour and a half. I may say that ]\liss Cm-ke took the matter in hand vigorously. It was prol)ably a detail in the inqn-ove- ment of my mind and mv manners which s:ie could not con- scientiously overlook. 'Since you luirc the audacity to v/isli to kiss the hand of a sovereii>'a who is none of vours,' said she, with her usual tv.inkle, 'you'll kindly see that you do it properly, miss!' Ho slie gave us explicit instructions as to 2?H AX AMF.R/CAX GIRL /X I.OXDOX tlie riglit fli)ris*,, iiiul ^luwr, and lact'iiiiin, uml halrJresst'r, to ^vliirli (Acii Lady 'J'(»r(|uiliii listfiu'd \sitli rcsptvt ; ' and r/'» //'// III'. jK'i-!l»t I wouhl erlain hud to sav in the matter — how hei arran<(ed the exact length of my train and cut of my bodice, and what I wore in my hair — the whole mulertahing, while it grew in consequence, grew also in charm. It was interesting in quite a novel way to come within the operation of these arbitrary requirements connected with the person of royalty. I liked getting ready to go to Court infinitely better than if I had been able to do it (piite my own way, ami the Lord Chamberlain had had nothing to do with it. I enjoyed In's interference. This was hard to reconcile with democratic prin- ci[)les, too. I intend to read up authorities in Anglo-American fiction who nuiy have detdt with the situation when I get home, to see if they shed any light u])on it, just for my own satisfac- tion. But I think it is a good thing that the Lord Cham- berlain's authority stops where it does. It would be simjile tyranny if he were allowed to prescribe colours for middle-aged /l.V AMF.RJCAX Cini. 1 \ I.OXDOX -.o ^S9 latlif'S, '(^^y instance, and luid ('(onni.-inilt'd Lady Toniniliti to appi-ar in yell(jw, wliidi is almost the only colonr slic can't wcai'. As it, was, lie was very nici' iiidct'd ahoiit it, allou'innr' '1 loiMi Tin: crinsrY iih-i-kti.t \t fiksi, her to come in a V-sliaped bodice on ax'oiint of her predisposi- tion to bronchitis; but she had to write and ask him very politely indeed. He told her by return post— of course it was u not a priv.'ito letter, but i\ sort of circular — ^just which tlress- makers had the V-shaped patterns tlie Queen liked best in such cases as hers, and Lady Torquilin at once obtained them. After that she said she had no further anxiety — there was nothing like going straiglit to the proper sources for informa- tion to have a comfortable mind. AVith that letter, if anything went wrong, the Lord Chamberlain could clearly be made ]"e- sponsiblc — and what did one want more than that? One thing that .surprised me during that fortnight of pre- paration was the remarkable degree of interest shown in our undertaking by all our friends. I should h;ivo thought it an old story in London, but it seemed just as absorbing a topic to the ladies who came to see Lady Torquilin on lier ' day,' and who had lived all their lives in England, as it was to me. Thev were politely curious upon every detail ; they took another cup of tea, and said it was really an ordeal ; they seemed to take a sympathetic pleasure in being, as it were, in the swirl of the tide that was carrying us forward to the Eoyal presence. Tt the ladies had been presented themselves they gave us graphic and varying accounts of the occasion, to which we listened with charmed interest; if not, they brought forth stories, if anything more thrilling, of what had happened to other people they knew or had heaid of — the lady whose diamond necklace broke as she bent; the lady who forgot to take the silver paper out of her train at home, and left it in the arms of the Gentlemen of the Court as she sailed forward; the lady who was attacked bv violent hysteria just as she passed the Duke of Edinburgh.' !Miss Corke's advice — though we relied upon nobody else — was supplemented fifty times; and one lady left us at half-jMist six in the afternoon, almost in tears, because she had failed to per-^ suade me to take a few lessons, at a guinea a lesson, fron: a yiX AMERICAN CIRf. IX LOXDOX 291 Fivncli Ifiily wlio made a speelalfy of dchiilantc pivsentiitions. I tliliik I should liave taken them, the occasion found mo witli so little self-reliance, if it had not been for Lady Torquilin. But Lady Torquilin sai'l No, certainly not, it was a silly wasto of money, and slie could show me everythin>iirsrff up lij H ! ' And then I would be the Queen, and Lady Torquilin, just to get into the way of it again, would pin on the towel and carry the roses, and curtsey to me. u 2 XXVITT I KNOW I shall enjoy wrlllii^' tin's cliaptcr, T t'lijoyt-il its prospectivo contents so niucli. To lie [x'l'lrctly candid, 1 liked going to Court Letter tlian any other thing 1 did in England, not excepting Maihnne 'i'ussaud's, or the lirefeatei-s iit the Tower, or even ' On r Flat ' at the Strand, it did a gniit deal to reconcile nie, practically, Avitli monai-ehical institnlioiis. although, chiefly on poppa's account, I sliduld like it to he under- stood that luy democratic theories iire still (uiite unsh.akiMi in every respect. It seems to nit', looking ]>aek uj'on it, that we began to go very early in the morning. I ivniemher a, vision of long ^vhIt(' boxes piled up at the end of the room through the grey of dawn, and a very shorbnap afterwards, before the maid came knocking with Lady Torqnilin's inqidries as to how 1 had sh'pt, and did 1 remember that the hairdresj-er was coming at nine sharp? It was a gentle knock, but it seemed to bristle with portent as I heard it, and brought with it the swift realisation that this was Friday at last — the Friday on which I should see Queen A^ictorin. And yet, of course, to bo quite candid, that was only half the excitement the knock brought ; the other half Avas that Queen Victoria should see me, for an instant and as an individual. There was a very gratifying flutter in that. The hairdresser was prompt. She came just as Charlotte was going out with the tray. Lady Torquilin having decreed AX A}U:h'/(\l\ (//AV. /\' /.i>\ni)Y '93 tliil wo .'shoulil tiikc (»iir moniiiio- mca] ji, i-ftirtMiinif. She was a kind, plcasaiif, l()(|iiaciiMis Iiwirdrcshrr. ' I'lu .i^lad lo si'c yoiTNc Ik-cii {\\^\^^ lo l;d<(> a <^'n(.d lircidvfast-, miss," .sho said, iis slic pulll'd ami ciirli'd uif. ' 'I'liat's 'alf llio batfl(S lie was sorry lli;il slic Ii.id locmnt' fo us so early, 'huh iiol uiilil Iwo (.'cldck, iiii.^s,di> I cxpt'cl (o l)f Inr ouo moment off my fcof, wliat with Oiilry l.idys wlio doii'l, wisli to l)e done till thry'iv jus( <,n'lJiiiM- inlo jhrir cjiiTiii^tros—iJK.tinrh for that T don't Itl.imo iliem, miss, and noiiodv lould. I'm afraid you'll find (licse k-i])|.i(s \vv\ wearing- on I lie nerves bi'fore tlio day is out. r.ut I'll jn;l |iin llicni up so, miss and of course you must do Jis best jtlcasrs you, but my mlr'u'c would bo, don't let fhem down fop f/////l)udy, miss, lill you start.' But I was not sorry the hidrdresser cauio so early. It would have been much moro weaiing on the nerves to liavo waited for lier. Perhaps you will find it dlflicult to understand the interest with which I watched my own development into a lady dressed for Court. Even the most familiar details of costume seemed to acrpiire a new meaning and importnice, while those of special relevance had the charm that might arise from the minirlino- of a very august occasion with a fancy-dress ball. AVhen I was quite ready, it seemed to me tliat I was a different person, very pretty, very tall, with a tendency to look backward over my shoulder, wearing, as well as a beautiful sweeping gown, a lofty and complete set of montirchical prejiulices, wdiichi thought be- coming in mascpierade. J was too much fliscinated with my out- ward self. I could have wished, for an instant, that the Declara- tion of Independence was hanging about somewhere framed. Then the advent of the big square wooden box from the florist's, and the gracious wonder of white roses and grasses 2'j.\ AX AMERICAN GIRL IX I.OXPiiX iiibicle, with littlo Liuls (lr()p[)iiig {iiid tvuii^Hit in its truiliiiL,'' ribbons — there is a great deal of the essence of ti lloyal function in a Drawing-lloom bouquet. And tlien Lady ^'onpiilin, witli a new graciousness and dignity, quite a long way off if 1 had not been conscious of sluiring her state for the time. Jiady Torquilin's appearance gave nie more ideas aljout my own than tlie pi nervous as J at this point. ' What Arrs become of Oddic ? " she exclaimed, and descried a red coat in ti cal) rolling up beside us with in- tense relief. As we passed \ through the Palace gates the cab di.sappeared, and chaos came again. 'Naughty boy!" said Lady Torquilin, in bitterness of s[)irit. ' Why, in the name of for- tune, couldn't he have come with u.> !^ in the carriage ? ]\reii have // ' ^ nerves, my dear, none wliatever ; and they can't understand our having them ! ' But at that moment we alighted, in a m«ize of directions, upon the wide, red-carpetetl steps, and whisked as rapidly as possible through great corridor! I A\ AMERICAN GIRL IX LONDON 299 ♦and chaos came again.' .^oo AX AMFJUCAX GIRL LV LONDON with knots of geutlenicii in uiiifunn in them to the cloak-room. * Hurry, child ! ' wliisptn-ed Lady Torquilin, handing our wraps to the white-capped maid. ' Don't let these people get ahead of us, and keep close to me ! ' — and 1 observed the same spasmodic haste in everybody else. With our trains over our arms we fled after the othei'S, as rapidly as decorum would permit, through spacious halls and rooms that lapse into a red confusion in my recollection, leaving one of my presentation cards somewhere (ju the way, and reaching the limit of permitted progress at last with a strong sense of security and comfort. We found it in a large pillared room full of regularly-curving lines of chairs, occupied by the ladies of the forty carriages that were before us. Every head w^ore its three white feathers and its tulle extension, and the aggregation of plumes and lappets and gentle movements made one in the rear think of a flock of tame pigeons nodding and pecking — it was very ' quaint/ as Lady Torquilin said when I pointed it out. The dresses of these ladies immediately be- came a source of the liveliest interest to us, as ours were appa- rently to those who sat near us. In fact, I had never seen such undisguised curiosity of a polite kind before. But then I do not know that I had ever been in the same room with so niany jewels, and brocades, and rare orchids, and drooping feathers, and patrician features before, so perhaps this is not surprising. A few gentlemen were standing about the room, holding fans and bouquets, leaning over the backs of the ladies' chairs, and looking rather distraught, in very becoming costumes of black velvet and silk stockings and shoe-buckles, and officers in uniform were scattered through the room, looking &6 if they felt rather more important than the men in black ; as I dare say they did, repre- senting that most glorious and impressive British institution, the Army, while the others were only private gentlemen, their owu AX AMERICAN GIRL IX I.OXDOX 3or property, and not connected with lier ^Majesty in any personal way whatever. ' Here yon are/ .said somebody close beliind iis. ' How d'ye do, Auntie? How d'ye do, Miss Wick? 'Pon my word, I'm awfully sorry 1 missed yon before ; but you're all right, aren't you ? The brute of a policeman at the gates wouldn't pass a hansom.' It was ^fr. Oddie ]*ratte, of coui'se, looking particularly liandsome in liis red-and-plaid uniform, holding liis helmet in front of him in the way that people ac(pdre in the Army, and pleased, as usual, with tlie world at large. 'Then may I ask liow you came hen', sir?' said Lady Torqnilin, making a pretence of severity. ' Private cnMe ! ' responded ^fr. Pratte, with an assumption of grandeur. 'Fellow drove me up as a matter of course — no apologies ! They suspected I was somebody', I guess, coming that way, and I gave the man liis exact fare, to deepen the im- pression. Walked in. Nobody said anything! It's what you call a game o' bluff, Auntie dear ! ' ' A piece of downright impertinence ! ' said Lady Torquilin? pleasantly. * It was your red coat, boy. Now, what do you think of our gowns ? ' Wx. Pratte told us what he thought of them with great amiability and candour. I had seen quite enough of him since the day at Aldershot to permit and enjoy his opinion, which even its frequent use of ' chic ' and ' rico ' did not make in any way irreverent. This young gentleman was a connoisseur in gowns ; he understood them very well, and we were both pleased that lie liked ours. As we criticised and chaffed and chatted a door opened at the farther end of the room, and all the ladies rose precipitately and swept forward. It was like a great shimmering wave, radiant in colour, :,o2 A A' AMERICAN C/RL I.\ /.OXDON breaking in a liuiulred places into tlie foam of tliose dimpling feathers and streaming lappets, and it rushed with unanimity to the open door, stopping there, chafing, on this side of a silk rope and a Gentleman of the Court. We hurried on with the wave — Lady Torquilin and ]\[r. Oddie Pratte and I — and presently we were inextricably massed about half-way from its despairing outer ed{?e, in an encounter of elbows which was only a little less than furious. Everybody gathered her train over her left arm — it made one think of the ladies of Nepaul, who wear theirs in front, it is said - and cliing with one hand to her prodigious bouquet, protecting her pi'uilent head-dress with the other. ' For pity's sake, child, take care of your lappets,' exclaimed Lady Torquilin. ' Look at that ! ' I looked at ' that ' ; it was a ragged fragment of tulle about a quarter of a yard long, dependent from the graceful head of a young latly immediately in front of us. She did not know of her misfortune, poor thing, but she had a vague and undetermined pense of woe, and she turned to us with speaking eyes. ' l"ve lost mamma,' she said, unhappily. 'Where is mamma? I miid go to mamma.' And she was not such a very young lady either. But Lady Torquilin, in her kind- ness of heart, said, ' 80 you shall, my dear, so you shall ! ' and ;^rr. Pratte took his aunt's ])0uquet and mine, and held them, one in each hand, above the heads of the mob of fine-ladyhood, rather enjoying the situation, I think, so that we could crowd together and allow the young lady who wanted her mamma to go and find her. Mr. Oddie Pratte took excellent care of the bouquets, holding them aloft in that manner, and looked so gallantly handsome doing it that other gentlemen immediately followed his example, and turned themselves into flowery can- delabra, with great effect upon the brilliancy of the scene. A sudden movement among the ladies nearest the silken AN AMERICAN CJRt. IN LONDON 303 barrier — a sudden concentration of energy that came with the knowledge that there was progress to be made, progress to Iloyalty ! A quick, heaving rush througli and beyond iuto another apartment full of emptiucss and marble pillars, and wo were once more at a standstill, liaving conquered a few places — brought to u masterly Inactivity by anr)ther silken cord and another Gentleman of the Court, polite but firm. In the room bevond we could see certain fiofures uiovinii; about at their ease, with no crush and no striiyo-le — the ludit'S ;ind <>;entlemen of the Private Entree. AVith what loffy siqit-riority we invested them ! They seemed, for the time, to belong to some other planet, where Eoyal beings grew and smiled at every street-corner, and to be, on the other side of that silken barrier, an immeasurable distance off. It was a distinct shock to hear an elderly lady beside us, done up mainly in amethysts, recognise a cousin among them. It seemed to be self-evident that she had no right to have a cousin there. ' I'll see you through the barrier,' said ls\v. Oddie Pratte, ' and then 111 have to leave you. I'll bolt round the other way, and be waiting for you at the off-door. Auntie. I'd come through, only Her jSfaj. does hate it so. Not at all nice of her, I call it, but she can't bear the most charming of us about on these occa- sions. AVo're not good enouoh.' A large-boned lady in front — ^ red velvet and cream — with a diminutive major in attendance, turned to him at this, and said with unci ion, ' I am sure, Edwin, that is not the case. I have it on excellent authority that the Queen is itlcased when gentlemen come through. Remember, Edwin, I will not face it alone.' ' I think you will do very well, my dear! ' Edwin responded. * Brace up ! Ton my word, I don't thiidc I ought to go. I'll join you at ' * If you desert me, Edwin, Z" alcall die ! ' said the bony lady, 304 yix AMr.RicAX (://:i. /x /ox/xw in a stroiifif iindertoni' ; jind al thai iikidu'IiI Iln> ci'fiwd lu-Mkc af^ain. Odtlie slij)})iil away, ;iii-acini4' aCtfi' (Hic another's trains round two sidi^s ol'tliis lliii-d hi^' romn towards .1 door at the farther corner. There was a most ini|ti'essi\(' silence. Ah W;' got into file .1 felt that the su[)reine )n(tnienl wasal hand. and it was not a coinfortahle feeliniL;'. Lady 'rorijuilin, in IVoiil of me, put a question to a o-entlenian in a ninfonn she oiiL;'ht to have been afraid of only that nothiiiL'' ever ierrilied Lady 'I'oi-- quilin, which made it less coml'oi'table still. 'Oh, L'lrd Mailer- ton,' said she— I hadn't recon-uised him in my nerronsness and his gold lace — ' How many curtseys are tliei'e to make ?' 'Nine, dear lady,' replied this peei-, with evident eujoynu'iit. * It's the most bi'illinnt Prawintf-K'oom of tiie season. h]\('r\ Koyalty wdio could possibly attend is here. ^.'in{^, at the least ! ' Lady Tonpnlin's reply utierly tei-rilled me. It was cond- dential, and delivered in an undei'ton(\ but it was full of sever(> meaning. 'I'm fidl of rheumatism," said she, 'and I shan't do it.' The cpiestion as to what Lady '^^ronpiilin would do, if no! what was required of her, ros(^ vividly befoi'o me, and kept nie company at every step of that internniudjlo round. 'Am I all right?' she whispered over her shoulder from the other end ol that trailing length of pansy-coloured velvet. ' JVrfectly,' I said. But there was nobodv to tell me that I was all rio-ht — I might have been a thing of shreds and patches. Somebody's 'it was my TUIIN.' 306 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON rosos Imd dropped ; I w;is walking on pink potals. AVliah n, pity ! And I Imd forprotton to tako off my ji^lovo ; would it oxt^v come nnbntloiK^d ? ITow deliberately wo were nearinjy tluit door at the farther end ! And liow coidd I possibly have RupposiMJ that my heart would beat like this! It was all very well to allpw one's self a little excitement in preparation ; but when i( came to the actual event I reminded myself that I had not had the slightest intention of being nervous. I called all my demo- cratic principles to my assistance — none of them would come. ' llemember, ]Mamie Wick,' said I to myself, ' you don't lielieve in queens.' But at that moment I saw three Gentlemen of the Household bending over, and stretching out Lady Torquilin's train into an illimitable expanse. I looked beyond, and there, in the midst of all her dazzling Court, stood Queen Victoria. And Lady Torquilin was bending over her liand ! And in another moment it would be — it was my turn ! I felt tho touches on my own train, I heard somebody call a name I had a vague familiarity with — ' i\Iiss ]Mamie Wick.' I was launched at last towards that little black figure of Royalty with the Blue Eiblion crossing her breast and the Koh-i-nor sparkling there ! JDidw't you believe in queens, Miss IMamie Wick, at that moment ? I'm very much afraid you did. And all that I remember after was going down very unsteadily before her, and just daring the lightest touch of my lips upon the gracious little hand she laid on mine. And then not getting nearly time enough to make all of those nine curtseys to the beautiful sparkling people that stood at the Queen's left hand, before two more Gentlemen of the Court gathered up my draperies from behind my feet and threw them mercifully over my arm for mo. And one awful moment when I couldn't quite tell whether I had backed out of all the Royal presences or not, AN A }[ ERIC AX GIRL IX I.OXDOX \^7 Jiinde up my mind lliafc 1 li.-ul, tli.Mi iiiini;..!.. ih, mid in n;x*"iy of spirif, tnrnod ami Imrkod (ii/ni,, ' If, wns ovor ;.f, li.sf. 1 l,i,d kissod the Imnd of tli.^ Qu.-.mi .,f CJre.-.t, nriffiin und Irolnnd, and—lliciv's no iiso in tnin-.^ <,, iH'li.'vo nnyniin;,' been obliged to leave England on account of a ]\Iisunder- standing. In order that you should quite see that nobody was parti- cularly to blame, I am afraid I shall have to be very explicit, which is in a way disagreeable. But Lady Torquilin said the day I came away that it would have been better if I had been explicit sooner, and I shall certainly never postpone the duty again. So that, although I should much prefer to let my English experiences close happily and gloriously with going to Court, I feel compelled to add here, in the contracted space a^ my disposal, the true story of how I went to dine with Mr. Charles Mafferton's father and mother and brother and sisters in Hertford Street, Mayfair. AX AMERICAN GIRL IX LOXIHW 3-9 It occiirretl almost a.s soon ns the family returnetl from tlio South of France, wliere they had heen all spring, you rcniemher, fi"om considerations aflrctinw- the health oi' tliit eldest ^liss iMaH'erton — with whom I had kept up, fi'om time to time, Ji very pleasant correspondence. ()iu> day, about three weeks after the Drawinuf-Uoom, when Ladv Toi'(|uilin and 1 could scarcrlv ever rely upon an afternoon at home, we came in to liiul all the ]\faiferton cju'dsau;ain in. 'I here was 11 note, ((w>, in which JNTi'S. .MafTerton l)ei!<>'(Ml i^ady 'ror(iuilin I0 waive ceremony and brln^- ni'.' to dine with llu-ni the following- evening. ' You can guess,' saidJNfrs. Matn-rlon, ' how anxious we must bi' to seelier.' There was a postscrii)t to tlu^ invitation, which said that althougli diarlie, as we ])robably knew, was unfortunately out of town j'oi' a (lav or two. All's Mailei'tou hoped he would be bat k in tlie course of the ex cuing. ' Well, my deal'," stiid Lady Tortpiilin, ' it's easily seen that I can't go. \\itli those AV^atkins ]teoj)le coming here. Hut you shall — ril let von off the \Vatkinses. It isn't rcallv fair to tlic Mafferfons to keep them waiting any longer. Ill write at once and say so. Of course," Lady Tonpiilin went on, ' under orthnarv circumstances I shouldn't think of lettini'' von j^o out to dinner alone, but in this ease — thei'e is sure to be oidv the family, yt)U know — I don't think it 'natters.' So Lady 'ronpiilin wrote, and when the time came lent mo Charlotte to go with me ia a hansom to Hertford Strtei^ ^Lty- fair. ' lie sure you bring me back a full and particular account of how' they all behave, child,' said she, as slie looked me over after my toilette was made ; ' I shall be interested to hear.' A massive butler let me into tlu^ usual narrow, hiu-h-ceiled Mayfair hall, richly lighted and luxurious ; the usual convenient maid in a white cap appeared at the first landing to show the way 3(0 /i.y /!.]//■: A'/c/ix ciRL IX i.oxnnx t.) tlic proper room for my wrap^^. xVfter Lad}' Torquilln's ex- pression of iuterest in liow they beliavctl, I liad been wonderinj^ wlietlier the Maffertons liad any idiosyncrasies, and I did not waste any unnecessary time in final touches before going down to see. I like people with idiosyncrasies, and lately T had bcc^ m'owino" accustomed to those of the Enuflish nation : as a, wlioh' they no longer struck me forcibly. I (piite anticipated sonic fresh ones, and the opportunity of observing theju closely. Tlu^ drawing-room seemed, as I went in to be full of .Malfcr- ■jtuis. There were iiKU'e ]\laf]'ert(»ns tliaii cliina phitcs on tlu^ Willi, than [)al ferns on the c;ir[)('t. And yet there were only the four vounu" ladit's and their niolhci' iind father. The cU'eet was produced, I tliink, by the gri'at similarity between the Misses ]\ratlerton. Not in actntd face or tigurc^ ; there were quite per- ceptible differences theie. The likeness lay in an indefinable shade of manner and behaviour, in the subdued and unobtrusive way in which they all got up and looked at nu?i ami at their mamma, waiting until it should be entirely proper for them to come forward. They wert' dressed a good deal alike, in low tones of silk, luLz'h necked, raflier wrinklino- at the shoulders, and finished with lace frills at the throat and wrists, and they all wore their hair parted in the middle, brushed smoothly back over their ears, and braided neatly across and across behiiul. 1 have never been sure altout their ages — they might liave been anything from twenty-live to forty ; but Isabella, whom they spoke of as the youngest, seemed to me to Ije the most serious and elderly of all. IMrs. Mafterton was a very stout old ladv, with what is called a fine face. She wore a good numy old-fashioned rings.^ and a wide lace collar over her expansive black silk, and as she came heavily forward to meet me she held out both her hands, and 312 AX AMKRICAX CIRL IX LOXDOX beamed upon hip —not nn impulsive boiiiii, liowcvcr, ratlier a heaiii wltli an olciiicnt of caution in if. ' Vou are very welcome, Mi.ss AN'ick. Indeed, we have l)een lookin"' forward to this. I tlnidc von oiitjlit to \A. me yivc von a kiss ! ' Of conrse I did let ^Frs. JNTaflcrton o-ive me a kiss — it was impossible to rcfnse. Ibit I thonolit myself singnlarly favonred ; it did not seem at all in accordances with the character of the family to fall njion the neck of a stranger and embrace her by way of welconung her to dinner. T was still fnrther of that opinion when each of the INFisses Maflerton followed the example of their mannna, and saluted me tenderly on the same checiv". But I immediately put it down to be an idiosyncrasy. ' AVe are so glad to see you at last,' said the eldest. ' Yes, indeed ! ' said the second. ' AVe began to think we never should,' said the third. ' AVe really did ! ' said the fourth. *Papa,' said ]\lrs. JMatterton, ' this is ]\liss Wick, of whom we have all heard so much.' >Slie spoke very close to the ear of an old gentleman in an arm-chair screened from the (ire, witli one leg stretched out on a rest ; but he did not understand, and she had to say it over again : ' iMiss Wick, of whom we have all heard so nnich. .l\)or de^ir! he does not hear very well,' INFrs. Mafferton added to me. ' You nuist use the speaking-trumpet, I fear, Miss Wick.' 'Well,' said old .Afr. INfafferton, after shaking hands with me and apologising for not rising, ' if this is Miss Wick, I don't see why I shouldn't have a kiss too.' At which Mrs. Mafferton and all vhe young ladies laughed and pro- tested, 'Oh, fie, papa!' For my part I began to think this idiosyncrasy singularly connnon to the family. Then the eldest Miss !Mafferton put one end of a long black speaking-trumpet into my hand, and Mr. Mafferton, seeing her to. ' T t liiuk of/ AX AM ERIC AX GIRL IX LOXDOX 313 do tliis, applied tlie other to his ear. 1 had nothing wliatever to say, but, overcome witli tlie fear of seemino- nide, I was raisin^ it to my lips and thinldng liard when I frit two anxious hands upon my arm. M)o excuse us!' exelaimt'd a ]\Jiss jSrafferton, ' but if you wouldn't mind liolding it just a little farther from your lips, please ! A\^e are obliged to tell everyl)ody. Otherwise the voice makes quite a distressing noise in his poor ears.' At which every semblance of an idea left me instantlv. Yet Inmst say something -Mr. ;>iuf!l>:-t(>n was waiting at the other end of the tube. This was the indjecility I gave expression to. came here in a cab ! ' I said. It was impossible to th anything else. 'J'hat was not a very propitious beginning; and M r. :N[aflerton's further apology for not lieing able to take jue down to dinner, on the ground that he had to be takeu down by the butler himself, did not help matters iu the verv least. At dinner I sat upon I\rr. lAralVerton's I'ight, with the coiling length of the speaking-trumpet between us. 'JMie brother came in just before we went down— a thin young man with a ragged beard, a curate. Of course, a curate being there, we began with a blessing. Then Mrs. Mafferton said, ' I hope you won't mind our not liaving asked any one else, Miss Wick. We were selfish enough to want you, this first evening, all to ourselves.' It was certainly the Mafterton idiosyncrasy to be extrava- gantly kind. I returned that nothing could have been more delightful for me. 'Except that we think that dear naughty Lady Torquilin should have come too!' said the youngest Miss JSrafferton. It began to seem to me that none of these young ladies considered themselves entitled to an opinion in the first person sincrular. 3f4 ^-y ami:ricax r,iia. ix i.oxnox All idea appeaivd to be, as it were, a family product. '■ SIio was very sorry/ I said. * And so, I am sure, are we,' reiiuuked Mrs. Mafferton, gra- ciously, from tlie otlior end of tlio tables ' It was tlirough dcs'ir J^ady Torquilin, I believe, that you first met our son, ^liss Wick ? ' I began to feel profoundly nncomfortable — I scarcely knew exactly wliy. It bt'came apparent to ni(> that there was something in the domestic atniosphei*e willi which I was out of sym[Kit]iy. 1 thought the four Miss MaHortons looked at me with too mucji interest, and I belirvccl that the curate was purposely distracting himself with his soup. 1 corroborated what J\Irs. ]\laHerton li;id said rather awkwardly, and caught one ^Miss ]\rafh'rton looking at another in a way that expressed distinct sympathy for ine. I was quite relieved Avhen ^Frs. ]\laflerton changed the subject by saying, ' So you are an American, j\Iiss AV'ick ? ' and I was able to tell her something about Chicago and our methods of railway travelling. JMrs. INfatferton was very pleasant about Americans; she said she always found them nice, kiiul-hearted people. The curate said, thoughtfully, crumbling his bread, tliat we had a vast country over there. * Francis ! ' exclaimed the ]\Iiss Mafferton wdio sat next to liim, playfully abstracting the crumbs, ' you know that's naughty of you ! I'm afi'aid you've come to a very nervous familv, ]\liss AVick.' I felt myself blushing a])ominably. The situation all at once defined itself and became terrible. How could I tell the Maffertons, assembled there around their dinner-table, that I was not coming to their family ! ' Burgundy, miss ?' How could I do anything but sip my claret with immoderate AA' AMJJUCAX ulRL IX LOiXDON 315 ' EVKN riiEN, I i!i:Mi;Mm:R, he lookku a seuious vkhson.' 3i6 AX AMJ:h'Ii'AX <>!/:/. IX /.C\/>(>X iiljs<'ir|)tlnnj Mini ■;iy Ili;il iici'voiis (liscriliTs (li.l • uni.t imr nin In i'aiiiilit'S, or sdiihtliinu' cipi.-illy iiiilHM'ili- ! ^ IJut ( 'li;il'lic"s lli'l'\i's ;irti ;is ^l|•(lll;;• as linssiMc I ' ;;iiil aiiotlicr Miss Mallri-foii, ifprn.'iclif.illy, In lici' sl>lt'r. We liad otiit'i' ^'I'lui-al coiiviTsat ion. and I spoke iiitn Mr. Alaircrloii's li'iiiiipct st'vrnil limes with a ccrlain atiiowiit of colid'ciu'i' ; l)iit I I'ciiiciiilior only tlio poinl-; w liidi slnicl< iiic ;is (>rs[)ocial interest at tlie time. Aiuonn" them \v;is the prnjiosal tliat, if I were willing', Mrs. .M;ill'erton should driNc me on 'J'liesday 'SV(\'k tliat would lie to-d;iy tosee;in iii\alid marrieil sister livin_t( in JIaiiipstead \\ho Wiis most anxious to NNcKome mo. .Ifow(' ])ersoii. Ai'ter which 1 had another lit! If ehatwith t w o of t he M iixs IMafierton toii'ethel-, who e\'[»l;iincd wli.il a (ie\iited hroliier tlle_\ had always had in ("harlie. ' ^\'e '//•'■ so n'hid _\on"\e hoen kind to him,' they said, imjMilsively. 'Of course we haxcn't seen him yet since our return, })ut his letlei's ha\-e told us l/ml niueli." 1 tried in vain to rack my brain lor oeewsions on which 1 hail heeii kind to Mr. (Miarles .Mallertoii, and longed lor an attack of faint- ness or u severe headache. ' Indeed,' 1 sahl, * it was always your jjrother who was kind to Lady Tonjuilin and to me.' At which the young ladies smiled consciouslv, and said sonu'thing about ///*'/ being iierfectK natural. Then, just as 1 was wondering wdiether I al)soluteIy must wait for Charlotte to arrive in a cab to take me home as Lady Torquiliu liad arranged, and as the third Miss ^lafferton 'Mmm '\-^ ^^"^ r.m ^i *»y f h^ »■ ' THE MISSES MAFFEUTON, WHO ACCOMPANIED ME, TURNED QUITE PALE. 3i8 AX A.'ifEA'/CA.V CJKL IX LONDON wjiH tclliiirr IIH5 liow ii*)l)lt» l)iif, ]i()\v imiiitfM'cstiiif,' if. wfis; df Francis to tnko up cxtronK' I'ifii.'ilistic viows and vow liinisolt'to celibacy, the (loov-l)oll r.-in'r. 'TIipiv'h Charlio now!' cxcljiiinod tlio ]\Iissos Munorf"oii all together. 'I must really go ! ' I said preciplfnfely. 'T — I promised Lady Torqnilin to be home early ' — noting with despair by the gold clock under glass on the mantel that- it was only a quarter to ten — ' and the American mail goes out to-nioi'mw ~ at least, I Ihmlx it does — and— and ^'"0(?-niglit, ]\Irs. JMallerton ! Good- ?i?V//i/, jMr. ^Maflerton ! ' J saiil it very rapidly, and although they were all kind enough to meet my depaiture with jn'otest, I think it was evident to them that I'or some reason or other I really must go. The young ladies exchanged glances of under- standing. I think their idea was that I dreaded the embarrass- ment of meetino; Mr. Charles IMaflerton before his familv. Two of them came upstairs with me to get my wraps, and assured me in various indirect ways that they quite understood — it wax awkward. Coming down, we met ^Mr. Charles ]\[afrerton at the door of the drawing-room. The ]\lisses IMaflerton, who accompanied me, turned quite pale when they heard me fissure their brother that there was not the slightest necessity that he should accompany me home. I could not persuade him of this, however, and we drove away together. I am afraid I cannot possibly report tlie conversation that took place between Mr. IMafferton and myself in the cab. Look- ing back upon it, I find it difficult to understand clearly, as I dare say he does if he ever thinks about it. After I had made him see quite plainly that it was utterly, absolutely impossible, which was not easy, he Icfb me to infer that I had been incon- AX AMERICA.X GIRL IN LONDON 319 fiivsfent, tlioiijjflj I nni snro T could in.'ike no soir-accuf*af Icm wliiVli would l>p more basolt'ss. JVivafclv, I tlionjriit. tlio inconsisfenrv was Ills, and that if. was of I lie most ^dariiit^ description. I am of opinion, with all due rrsprct to yotir I'lnr^lish rnstonis, that if Ml*. .Mafl'ertou desired to inarrv nie, lie should liave taken nie, to some extent, into his ermfidenee ahout it. Jfe should iu)t have made Lady Tonjuilin the sole repository of the idea. A siujL^le bunch of roses, or haskt^t of fruit, or l»ox of candy addressed to nie specially, would have been enon<^!i to give my thoughts a proper direction in the matter. 'I'hon I would have known what to do. J3ut I alwavs seemed to make an nnavoid- able second in Mr. ]\IafFerton's attentions, and accejited my share of them generally with an inward compunction. And I may say, without any malice at all, that to guess of one's own accord at a developing sentiment within the breast of Mr. jSIatferton would be an unlikely thing to occupy the liveliest imagination. I'erhaps Mr. Mutlerton did m^t know how liis family had intended to behave to me. At all events, he otlered no apology for their conduct. I may say that the only thing of any con- sequence that resulted from our drive was the resolution which I am carrying out on board the s.s. ' Ktruria ' to-day. The ladies' steward of the ' Etruria,'a little fellow with large bhie eyes and spectacles and a drooping moustache, is very polite and attentive. His devotion, after Mr. Maffer. n*s, seems the embodiment of romance. I shall hesitate about tipping him. He has just brought me some inspiring beef-tea, which accounts for those asterisks. The worst of it was Lady Torquilin's scolding next morning —not that she said anything unkind, but because it gave mo the idea that I had treated her badly too. I should bo go sorry to 320 //.\' AM URIC AX GIRL IX LOXDOX think that I had fronted Lady Torquiliu badly. She seemed to think that I shoidd have told her in the very beginning that I was encfafj'ed to ls\x. Arthur ■fe"{-j^ ' THE ladies' STEWAED.' (Jreenleat* I'age, of the ^'ale University Staff'. She seemed to think that I should have told everybody. 1 don't see why, especially as we are not to be married until Christmas, and one never can tell what may happen. Young ladies do not speak of these thiugs (juite so much in America as you do in England, I think. 'J 'hey are not so openly known and discussed. I must apolo- gise to myself for bringing Mr, Pacre in even at this stage, but it seemed to be unavoid- able. I don't know at all, by tin way, wnat Arthur will say t( this last of ni} English experi ences. He ma} not consider it n 'formative' a he hoped tli' others would \>y There is on! one thing th;. u- AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 321 makes the thouglit eiidurabk' for un instant — it would have been nice to be related to the Staeys. Just before sailinj^the purser supplied me with dear consola- tion in the shape of a letter fi-oni Miss Peter Corke. It was a ' characteristic ' letter, as we say when we want to say a thing easily — bewailing, advising, sternly questioning, comically repro- bating, a little sad and deprecating by accident, then rallying to herself again with all sorts of funny reprosiches. ' I meant to have done so much, and I've done so little ! ' was the burden of it, recurring often — ' I meant to have done so much, and 1 Ve done so little ! ' Dear Peter ! She can't possibly know how much she did do, though I'm taking my unformed mind back to a comparatively immature civilisation, and shall probably con- tinue to attend a church where they use spring-edged cushions and incandescent burners. Peter's England will always be the true England to me. I shall be able to realise it again easily with some photographs and Hare's ' Walks in London,' though I am afraid I have got all her delightful old moss-grown facts and figures mixed up so that I couldn't write about them over again without assistance as intelligently as before. And Peter says she doesn't mind going on in my second volume, if only I won't print it ; which is very good of her when one thinks that the second volume will be American, and never written at all, but only lived, very quietly, under the maples at Yale. I hope she may be found in the last chapter of that one too. Dear Peter 1