Ameman ^/d ^ ,<^--« w m- fA (MA ^£AA/a/£J'/'£ MA/fA// m Digitized by the Internet Archive • in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/americangirlinloOOduncrich ^i^l<>-,% Fttmtis^iece THAT NICE MISS JAY PENNE AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON BY SARA JEANNETTE DUNCAN AUTHOR OF " A SOCIAL DEPARTURE" WITH EIGHTY ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. H. TOWNSEND NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1891 *: »*f ««.«»« Copyright, 1891, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. PREFACE FOR THE OTHER AMERICANS. I HAVE written this account onlj secondarily and at tlie instigation of publishers, for Americans. Primarily, I wrote it for the English people. I composed it in their country ; it was suggested by their institutions, and it is addressed to them. You will see, if you read it, that I had reasons for doing this. The reasons are in the first chapter, at the very beginning. As you have not far to look for them, therefore, and as it is quite unnecessary to print a thing twice in the same book, I will not go over them again. The object of this preface is chiefly to draw your attention to the fact that I am not talking to you, dear compatriot, so that you will un- derstand that there is no personal ground for any annoyance you may feel at what I say. Notwithstanding this, one of the Miss Wastgoggles, of Boston, has already taken the trouble to send me a rather severely reproachful letter about my impressions and experi- ences, in which she says that she would have written hers, if it had ever occurred to her to do so, very differently. I have no doubt that this is true. She also begs me to remem- ber that there are a great many different kinds of girls in America, numbers of whom are brought up " quite as they 483503 vi AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON, are in England." It is this remark of liers that makes me quote Miss Wastgoggles. I wisli to say in connection witli it that, while it is unreasonable to apologize for being only one kind of American girl, I do not pretend to represent the ideas of any more. Mamie Wick. No. 4000 Prairie Avenue, Chicago, Illinois, liovember 20, 1890. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE ' " THAT NICE MISS JAY PENNB '" ... . . Frontispiece INITIAL • I ' . . . . . , . .1 • THAT IS HOW HE MADE HIS FORTUNE ' . . . . . . 3 ' I THINK HE WILL RUN ' , . . . . . .4 ' SUE WAS TEACHING SCHOOL IN CHICAGO WHEN POl'PA MET HER ' . . 5 ' I AM AFRAID WE LOOKED AT IT WITH MORE INTEREST THAN WE EVER HAD DONE BEFORE ' . . . . . . . .8 ' WE SEEMED TO GET ON TOGETHER EVEN MORE AGREEABLY AFTER THAT ' . 18 ' WHAT PUZZLED ME WAS, WHY HE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ANOTHER CAB ' . 20 •"THOSE DISGUSTING AMERICAN GIRLS " ' ... .24 i WHERE SMALL BOYS GO ROUND ON ONE ROLLER SKATE ' . . .80 • FROM THE OUTSIDE I DIDN't THINK MUCH OF MRS. PORTHERIS'S HOUSE ' . 34 ' THEY SAT UP VERY NICELY INDEED ' . . . . .37 ' THE OLD LADY GATHERED HERSELF UP AND LOOKED AT ME ' . . . 39 ' IT WAS MISS PURKISS'S ADDRESS ' . . . . , .45 'SPENT HALF AN HOUR IN THE MIDST OK MY TRUNKS ' . . , . 46 ' I WAITED FOR THE LADY OF THE HOUSE A CONSCIOUS HYPOCRITE ' . 56 ' '* WE SENT TWO " ' . . . . , . . . 66 • " I CAN DROP YOU ANYWHERE YOU LIKE " ' . . , .69 ' ONE OF THE LADIES WAS SITTING BOLT UPRIGHT, WITH A STERN, MAJESTIC eye' . . . . . . . . . 73 • " THEN I LEAVE YOU, MISS WICK," SHE SAID, " TO THIS LADY — AND TO PROVIDENCE " ' . . . . . . . .77 Vlll AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON *"B1AKE him stop WAOGLING," I CALLED TO THE DRIVBB ' "'YOU HAVE THE TOB-BEGANINO — THAT MUST BE NICE"' . 'SOMEBODY HE CALLED ** DEAB-R-R HKAR-B-H-t\^^ '' • " I WILL NOT HAVE YOU IN STRIPES," I HEARD HIM SAY ' . • UPSET A CHILD WITH A TOPHEAVY BONNET ' . ' " PLEASE HOLD MY PARASOL, MR. MAFFERTON, THAT I MAY GET THE EXACT TRUTH FOR MY PENNY " ' . . . . . ' " WHAT DO YOU THINK OP THE UNDERGROUND ? " ' INITIAL ........ • " SO THIS IS WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR ! " ' . 'LORD MAFFERTON' . . . . . ' DISARRANGED MY FEATURES FOR LIFE ' . 'THE WHOLE PLACE SPOKE OF ITS CIIKAPNERS ' ' THAT GENTLEMAN IN THE CORNER IS A FEATURE OF YOUR 0MM15US SYSTK5I I think' ........ ' THE YOUNG WOMAN CRAWLED AWAY WITH THE NEGLIGENCE THAT BECAME THE DEABEST PLACE ' . . . . . , • A PERSON OP GREAT DIGNITY, IN HIGH, BLACK SLEEVES ' INITIAL ........ ' " YOU WICKED WOMAN " * •"REMEMBER, YOUNG LADY, THREE-THIRTY Slutrp"^ , INITLLL • W ' . • WE LOOKED AT SHAKESPEARE, SUPRKIME A^rOXG THKM ' « " life's a jest, and ALL THINGS SHOW IX ; I THOUGHT SO ONCK, AND NOW I KNOW IT " ' INITIAL ' I ' . • OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENTS GLORY IN IT ' . . , INITIAL * L ' . DANCING LIKE A DISJOINTED FOOT-RULE ' . . . . •"REVERSE?" HE SAID; "l DON'T THINK I EVER HEARD OF 11 " ' . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ix PAGR ' I OSTENSIBLY LOOKED AT THE LANDSCAPE ' , • • • • 182 ' THEY WERE ALL DIFFERENT FROM ANY AMERICAN GENTLEMEN ' . . 183 • ODDIE PRATTIE ' . . . . . . . . . 189 ' WE DROVE STRAIGHT OUT OF TOWN TO THE PARADE-GROUND ' . . 194 ^WITH THEIR GAY LITTLE PENNONS FLYING' . . , . . 197 ' WITH AN AIR OF INQUIRY ' . . . . . . . 203 ' IT BEGAN TO BE LIKE THE DIALOGUES IN THE OLD-FASHIONED READING - BOOKS ' . . . . . « . . . 207 • I WAS TAKEN BY SURPRISE ' . . . . . . . 209 INITIAL • L ' . , , . . . . . . 211 • LADY BANDOBUST ' . . . . . , . . 212 ' SHE WAS THE MOST UNINTERESTED PERSON I HAVE HAD THE PLEASURE OF TALKING TO IN ENGLAND ' . . . • . . . 214 'MR. BANGLEY COFFIN' ....... 224 •always, AS IF IN IRONY, BY A MAN WHO SOLI) GINGKRRREAD ' . . . 232 • AN ACTRESS ON THE LYRIC DRAG GAVE US A VERY FRANK AND FULL-FLAVOURED CRITICISM OP OUR DRESSES ' . • t • • • 233 • I FELT AS IF I WERE IN CHURCH ' . . * . ■ . 240 INITIAL 'l'. . , . . , . • . 243 ' THE RESPECTABLE SCOUT . , « • * . . 246 • A GENUINE BISHOP ' . . , . , . . . 263 INITIAL ' T ' . . ■ , , , • . . . 255 INITIAL • M ' . . . . . . , , . 263 ' HE LOOKED AMUSED AT MY IGNORANCE * , . , . . 267 INITIAL ♦ I ' . . . . . . . , .272 ' TWO TIDY LITTLE MAIDS "....... 275 • RnSS DOROTHY EXPLAINED THAT IT WAS A CURTSEY ' . . . 281 • " WHOEVER HEARD OF ATTENDING ONE OF HER MAJESTY'S DRAWING-ROOMS IN A FROCK MADE IN NEW YORK ! " ' . . , • . . 285 • I FOUND THE CURTSEY DIFFICULT AT FIRST ' , , , . 289 X AX AMI RICA GIRL IN LONDON .'AGS ' \VE 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 *"IP THIS IS MISS WICK, I don't SEE WHY I SHOULDN'T HAVE A KISS TOO " ' 311 ' EVEN THEN HE LOOKED, I REMEMBER, A SERIOUS PERSON ' . . . 315 'THE MISSES MAFFERTON, WHO ACCOMPANIED ME, TURNED QUITE PALE ' . 317 'THE ladies' STEWAKD* . . , , . . . . 320 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON AM an American Girl. Therefore, perhaps, you will not be surprised at anything further I may have to say for myself. I have observed, since I 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 beginning, to save complications. It may be necessary at this point to explain further. T know that in England an unmarried person, of my age, is not expected to talk much, especially about herself This was a little difficult for me to understand at first, as I have always talked a great deal, and, one might say, been encouraged to do it ; but I have at length been brought to understand it., and 2 ' ' ' ' kl^yAM^RJCAN CrIRl IN LONDON lately I have spoken with 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, fortunately, 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 newspapers. 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 witli the kind of young AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON women we are long ago ; and to me it is very curious that you should go on talking about us. I can't say that we object very much, because, while you criticise us considerably as a class, you are very polite to us individually, and nobody minds being criticised as a noun of multitude. But it has occurred to me that, since so much is to be said about the American Girl, it might be permissible for her to say some of it herself. I have learned that in England you like to know a great deal about people who are introduced to you — who their fathers and mothers are, their grandfathers and grandmothers, and even further back than that. So I will gratify you at once on this point, so far as I am able. My father is Mr. Joshua P. Wick, of Chicago, 111. — you may have seen his name in con- nection with the bak- ing-powder interest in that city. That is how . ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^o^t^^^^ ' he made his fortune — in baking-powder ; as he has often said, it is to baking-powder that we owe everything. He began by putting it up in small quantities, but it is an article that is so much used in the United States, and ours was such a very good kind, that the demand for it increased like anything ; and though we have not become so rich as a great many people in America, it is years since poppa gave his personal superintendence to the business. You will excuse my spelling it ' poppa'; I have called him that all my life, and ' papa ' doesn't seem to mean anything to me. 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 him to run for senator. There is a great deal of compliance about poppa, and I think he will run. Momma was a Miss Wactgaggle, of Bostx)n, and she was ' I THINK HE WILL LUN teaching school in Chicago when poppa met her. 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. Wastgagle-Wick ' ; but momma says 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. I / ^v. SHE WAS TEACHING SCHOOL IN CHICAGO WHEN POPPA MET HER' 6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON My father's father lived in England, and was also a manu- facturer, poppa says, always adding, ' in a plain way ; ' so I sup- pose whatever he made he made himself. It may have been boots, or umbrellas, or pastry — poppa never states ; though I should be disposed to think, from his 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. 1 am inclined to think that they were not people who achieved any great distinction in life ; but I have never held anything against 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 Wicks, or the Wastgaggles either, to let the oppor- tunity for distinction pass through any criminal negligence on their part. I am perfectly willing to excuse 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. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 7 We were all coming at first, poppa, and momma, and I — the others are still in school — and it had appeared among the ' City Personals ' of the ' Chicago Tribune ' that ' Colonel and Mrs. Joshua P. Wick, accompanied by Miss Mamie Wick ' — I forgot 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 momma 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 get 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 Europe several times, suggested that I should take a maid, and momma rather liked the idea, but I persuaded her out of it. I couldn't possibly have undertaken the care of a maid. And then we all thought of Mrs. 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 poppa, some- thing about some depressed California mining stock, I believe, which she thought poppa, as her nephew and an American, ought to take off her hands before it fell any lower. And I remember that poppa obliged her : whether as an A merican or S AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON as her nephew 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, Joshua Peter and Mary Wick, and all their 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 enjoy myself, and she wanted to cable that I was coming. But 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. Wick, of Chicago, and she would be 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 JAM not tnucli acquainted in New York, so I had only poppa and Mr. Winterhazel to see me 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 had 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 jnutual 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 said. We had allowed two days before the steamer sailed, so 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 ]\Ir. 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 nothing to New York for confusion and hurry, 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 be took me to hear a gentleman so AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON who was lecturing on the London of Charles Dickens, with a stereopticon, thinking that, as I 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 that politics were politics, and I suppose they are. Next day I sailed from North River Docks, Pier No. 2, a fresh wind blowing all the harbour into short blue waves, with the sun on them, and poppa and Mr. Winterhazel taking ofi their hats and waving their handkerchiefs as long as I could see them. I suppose I started for Great Britain with about as many comforts as most people have — poppa and Mr. 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 myself indeed, and began to depend a good deal upon Mrs. Portheris. 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON il should have thought everybody would have been more or less ac- quainted by that time, but, with the exception of a few gentlemen, people were standing or sitting round in the same little knots they came on board in. And yet it was very smooth. I was so perfectly delighted to be well again that I felt I must talk to somebody, so I spoke to one of a party of ladies from Boston who I thought might know the Wastgagles there. I was very polite, and she did not seem at all sea-sick, but I found it difficult to open up a conversation with her. I knew that the Bostonians thought a good deal of themselves — all the Wast- gagles do — and her manner somehow made me think of a story I once heard of a Massachusetts milestone, marked ' 1 m. from Boston,' 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. ' Well, we are 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 eyes, and a large old-fashioned muff, and a red cloud. Only an Englishwoman would be wearing a muff and a cloud like that in public — nobody else would 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 niake 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 neighbour about ' Daisy Miller,' which the neighbour agreed to. I know what they meant now. The gentleman, when he was not attending to his dinner, stared at the salt-cellar most of the time, in a blark, 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 eat very little Gorgonzola. ' Don't you like cheese ? ' she said, suddenly, a little as if I had offended her. I was so startled that I equivocated some- what. ' No'm, net 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- pearance, I suppose ? In that case, you wouldn't like it.' And I felt forgiven. She said nothing more until dessert, and then she startled me again. ' Have you been bad ? ' she inquired. I didn't know quite what to say, it seemed such an extia- ordinary question, but it flashed upon me that perhaps the lady was some kind of missionary, in which case it was my duty to be respectful. So I said that I hoped not — that at least 1 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!' ls\v. Mafferton was the gentleman whom I have mentioned in con- nection with the salt-cellars ; and my other neighbour seemed to know him, which, as they both came from England, did not 14 AN A ^f ERIC AN GIRL IN LONDON surprise me then, although 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. Mafferton 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 he 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 him 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 15 Bpecimen ! You must excuse my staring at you. But you'll have to get over that idea. Your friends will never in the world allow it — I suppose you Ificbve friends ? ' ' No,' I said ; ' only a relation.' The lady laughed. ' Do you intend that for a joke ? ' she asked. ' Well, they do mean different things sometimes. But we'll see what the relation will have to say to it.' Mr. Mafferton 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 for thought in them whatever ; yet they were very agreeable. Whether it was Mr. Mafferton's voice, or his manner, or his almost apologetic way of speaking, as if he knew that he was not properly acquainted, and ought not to do it, I don't know, but I liked hearing him make them. It was not, however, 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 Mr. 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 Mary ? ' 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 now 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 been brought up in an English schoolroom.' And just then, while I was wondering what would be the most appropriate thing i6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON to say to a lady who told you that her husband had been dead fifteen years, and was a distinguished man in his time, and wishing that I had been brought up in an English schoolroom, so that I could be polite about him, Mr. Mafferton came up. He had one of Mr. W. D. Howells' novels in his hand, and at once we glided into the subject of American literature. I re member I was surprised to find an Englishman so good-naturt'd 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. We had a most delightful conversation— I had no idea there was so much in Mr. ^lafferton — and Mrs. Torquilin 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 1 said 1 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 Mrs. 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 don't let them persuade you to do it. An Atlantic steamer is no 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, he said, ' that you wouldn't prefer the tea ? ' ' Oh yes, sir ! ' I said; ' we always have tea at half-past six at home, and I don't care about it so early as this. I'd much rather walk. But don't trouble to come with me if yon would like some tea.' ' I'll come,' he said, * if you won't call me '' sir." * Here he frowned a little and coloured. * It makes one feel seventy, you know. May I ask why you do it ? ' I explained that in Chicago it was considered polite to say * ma'am ' or ' sir ' to a lady or gentleman of any age with whom you did not happen to be very well acquainted, and I had heard it all my life ; still, if he objected to it, I would not use it in his case. He said he thought he did object to it — from a lady ; it had other associations in his ears. So I stopped calling Mr. INIafFerton 'sir'; and since then, except to very old gentlemen, I have got out of the way of using the expression. I asked him if there was anything else that struck him as odd in my conversation kindly to tell me, as of course I did not wish to be an unnecessary shock to my relation in Half-Moon Street. He did not say he would, but we seemed to get on together even more agreeably after that. Mr. Mafferton appeared to know nobody on board but Mrs. Torquilin ; and I made acquaintance with hardly anybody else, so that we naturally saw a good deal of each other, usually in the afternoons, walking up and down the deck. He lent me all his books, and I lent him all mine, and we exchanged opinions on 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 arguing 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 flavours of personality I had always been accustomed to. Mr. Mafferton 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 landing at Liverpool Docks in the middle of a wet April afternoon. Mrs. Torquilin had told me at breakfast not on any account to let my relations take me away before she had given me her address ; but when the time came I guess — if you will allow me — she must have forgotten, because the last time I saw her she was standing under a very big umbrella, which the maid held over her, 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. We 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 down 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 you sailed ? ' * No,' I said. * There wasn't time.' * Upon my word ! ' said Mr. Mafferton. Then, as T suppose r looked rather surprised, he added, hastily : ' I only mean that it seems so — so uncommonly extraordinary, you know ! But I so AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON would advise you, in that case, to give the bulk of your luggage into the hands of the forwarding agents, with instructions to send it early to-morrow to your friend's address. It is all you can do to- night,' said Mr. Mafferton, ' really. Ot course, you will go there imme- diately yourself.' 'No,' I responded, firmly; 'I think not, Mr. Mafferton. My rela- tion is very elderly, and probably in bad health. For all I 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 " M^tropole " in London. I will go to the Metropole for to-night, and have my things sent there. To-morrow I will go AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 21 and see my relation, and if she asks me to visit her I can easily telephone up for them. Thank you very much/ Mr. MafFerton looked as sober as possible, if not a little annoyed. Then he went and got the agent's young man, and asked me to poiut out my things to him, which I did, and got receipts. Then he told a porter to call a cab, and put my smaller valises into it. * I will put you in,' he said, and he gave me his arm 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 he very kindly gave me his card and address, and begged me to let him know if there was any- thing he could do for me. Then I rattled away through the blurred lights of your inter- minable twisted streets to the Metropole, fancying I saw West- minster Abbey or St. Paul's through the rain at every turn. When we stopped at last before the hotel, another hansom behind us stopped too, and though I am sure he didn't intend me to, I saw quite plainly through the glass — Mr. Mafferton. It was 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 night long I dreamed of Mrs. Portheri.9. 21 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON m I ONCE visited the Wastgagles in Boston with momma. It wai= a visit of condolence, just after the demise of a grandmother of theirs. I was going to say, that never since that occasion had I experienced anything like the solemnity of my breakfast at the Metropole the morning after I arrived. As a sad-faced waiter with mutton-chop 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 frofit of him, it was almost processional. And in the AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 2^ interval, when I turned round to look out of the window, and saw another of those respectfully-subdued waiters standing behind my chair, quite motionless, I jumped. A great many people were getting their breakfasts, not with the cheerful alac- rity which we use at home, but rather with a portentous deli- beration and concentration which did not admit of much talking. The silence was broken only in one corner, where a group of Americans seemed to have got accustomed to the atmosphere. When the English breakfasters raised their eyes from their papers and eggs-and-toast, they regarded my talkative com- patriots with a look which must have fairly chilled their tea. I hope nobody has ever looked at me like that in England The Americans were from Virginia, as I could tell by their accent, and their ' c'y'arn't ' and ' sis'r ' and ' honey ' and ' heap better.' But I have no doubt the English people, in their usual loftily com- prehensive fashion, set the strangers down as ' Yankees,' and no amount of explanation could have taught them that the ' Yankees are the New Englanders, and that the name would once have been taken as an insult by a Southerner. But the Virginians were blissfully indifferent to the British estimate of themselves, and they talked as freely of their shopping and sight-seeing as they would in Delmonico's or the Brunswick. To be perfectly honest, a conviction came to me then that sometimes we don't care enough. But, for my part, I liked listening to that Virginian corner. I'm afraid it was rather a late breakfast, and the lobby was full of people strolling in and out when I went through on my way to my room. I stood for a moment at the dining-room door looking at the lobby — I had heard so many Chicago people describe it — and I noticed in the seats that run around it, against the wall, two young women. They were leaning back nonchalantly, watching the comers and the goers. Both of 3 24 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON them had their knees crossed, and one had her hands in her jacket pockets. A man in the seat next them, who might or might not have belonged to them, was smoking a large cigar. Two English ladies came out from breakfast behind me, stood waiting for somebody, and said one to the other : ' Look at those disgusting American girls ! ' But I had seen the young women's boots. Just to be satisfied, I walked up to one of them, * " THOSE WSGUSTINO AMEBICAN GIRLS " ' and asked her if she could kindly tell me when I ought to post letters for New York. ' The American maiyel goes out Wednesdays 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 AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON t$ I started to see Mrs. Portheris at eleven o'clock on the morning of the 9th of April — a lovely day, a day which augured brightly 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 have 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 knitting and out into the busy street. Words have such an inspiring effect upon the imagination. All this had emanated from the ' dear ones,' and I felt confident and pleased and happy before- hand to be 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 may be weak- minded in me, but I simpl}' 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 'ansora,' 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 ? ' he 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 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 as it was a slippery day the horses attached to them sat down and rested a great deal oftener than I thought I should like. And when the animals were not poor old creatures that were 26 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON obliged to sit down in this precipitate way, they 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 there'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 GIRL IN LONDON 37 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. ' Bight 'ere, miss, ware you be a-standin' ! Bwif a flower, miss ? Only a penny ! an* lovely they are ! I)o 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. So 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 'Ammersmith '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 28 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON an' 'Ammersmith — it's all the saime, dependin' 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 ^owfeide ! ' 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 his 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 i'ell off the tops of any of the other 'buses, I concluded AN AMERICAN GIRL 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 about 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 who were travelling in the same direction as I was, only on a le\ el 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 'bas ! 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 wliite 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-shaved 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 monarchists 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 so devoted to London. 30 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON There was the smell, to begin with. I write ' there was,' 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 1 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 WHEBE SMALL BOYS GO BOUND ON ONE BOLLEE SKATE ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 31 assume aliases^ and break out into 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- thing, 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 some 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. I don't know whether you will like our admiring you on account of your griminess, but we do. At home we are so monotonously clean, architecturally, that we can't make any 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- Bide ! ' 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 Half-Moon 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-^Ioou Street, Piccadilly, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 33 IV FROM the outside T didn't think much of Mrs. Portheris's house. 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. Half-Moon 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 she 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 as 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 house, in spite of its grimy, old-fashioned, cramped appearance, 34 AN AMERICAA GIRL IN LONDON FBOU THE OUTSIDE I DIDN't THINK MUCH OF MRS. PORTHERIS'S HOUSB * I AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 35 a look of respectability which redeemed it. But I did not see at any window, behind the spotty evergreens, the sweet, sad face of my relation, though 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. Mrs. Portheris's exterior had prepared me for something 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. * Qxdie well, miss,' he replied, with the note of interrogation a little more obvious. 36 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON * 1 should like to see her. Is she in ?* * I'll h'inquire, miss. 'Oo shall I sai, miss ? * I thought 1 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 bodroom. ' No, sir,' I said ; * I'll wait here.' Then I thought of Mi-. Mafferton, and of what he had said about saying ' sir ' to people, and my sensations were 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 anythink, 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." He 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. ' Mi-s. J^ortheris 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 threat many old-fashioned ornaments under glass cases, and a tinkliug glass chandelier in the middle. There were several AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 37 oil-pa' ntings on the walls — low-necked portraits and landscapes, principally dark-green and black and yellow, with cows, and quantities of lovely china. The 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 time I noticed chiefly two young persons with the pinkest cheeks I ever saw, THEY SAT UP VERY NICELY IM1>EED out of a picture book, sifting near a window. They were dressed exactly alike, and their hair hung down their backs to their waists, although they must 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 Tussaud's — bat I daresay you have often noticed 38 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON it yourself. And standing in the middle of the room, with her hand on a centre-table, was Mrs. Portheris. My first impression was that she had been standing there for the last hour in that immovable way, with exactly that remark- able expression ; and it struck me that she could go on 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 Mrs. Portheris stout, she was massive — rather, of an impressive build. Her skirt fell in a commanding way from her waist, though it hitched up a little in front, which spoiled the effect. She had broad square 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 Egyptian antiquities in the British Museum, but I am unable to describe 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 the table. ' Miss Wich^' 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 Peter ? ' ' 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 ! My nephew by marriage- — a former marriage — a very distant con- nection.' 'Three thousand five hundred miles,' said I; *he lives in AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 39 Chicago. You have never been over to see us, Mrs. Portheris.' At this point 1 walked across to one of the spindly red chairs and sat down. I thought then that she had forgotten to ask me ; hut even now, when i know she hadn't, I am not at all ip-s^ ' THE OLD LADY GATHERED HERSELF UP AND LOOKED AT ME ' sorry T sat down, I find it is possible to stand up too much in this country. The old lady gathered herself up and looked at me. ' Where are your father and mother ? ' she said. 4 40 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON * In Chicago, Mrs. Portheris. All very well, thank you ! I had a cable from them this morning, before I left the hotel. Kind regards to you.' Mrs. Portheris looked at me in absolute silence. Then she deliberately arranged her 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 back. It began to grow very interesting to me, after the first shock of finding this kind of relation was over. I found myself waiting for what was to come next with the deepest interest. In America we are very fond of types — perhaps because we have so few among ourselves — and it seemed to me, as I sat there on Mrs. Portheris's spindly red chair, that I had come into violent contact with a type of the most valuable and pronounced description. Privately I resolved to stay as long as I could, and lose no opportunity of observing it. And my first observation was that Mrs. Portheris's expression was changing — losing its neutrality and beginning to radiate active opposition and stern criticism, with an uncompromising sense of duty twisted in at the corners of the mouth. There was no agitation whatever, and I thought with an inward smile of my relation's nerves. ' Then I suppose,' said Mrs. Portheris — the supposition being of the vaguest possible importance — 'that you are with a party of Americans. It seems to be an American idea to go about in hordes. I never could understand it — to me it would be most obnoxious. How many are there of you ? ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 4t ' One, Mrs. Porbheris — and I m the one. Poppa and momma had set their hearts on coming. Poppa thought of getting up an Anglo-American Soda Trust, and momma wanted particularly to make your acquaintance — your various Christmas cards have given us all such a charming idea of you — but at the last minute something interfered with their plans and they had to give it up. They told me to tell you how sorry they were.' ' Something interfered with their plans ! But nothing interfered with your plans ! ' * Oh, no ; it was some political business of poppa's — nothing to keep me ! * ' Then do I actually understand that your parents, of their own free vnll, permitted you to cross the Atlantic alone ? ' ' I hope you do, Mrs. Portheris ; but if it's not quite clear to you, I don't mind explaining it again.' ' Upon my word ! And you are at an hotel — which hotel ? ' When 1 told Mrs. Portheris the Metropole, her indigna- tion mounted to her cap, and one of the pink ribbons shook violently. 'It is very American!' she said; and I felt that Mrs. Portheris could rise to no more forcible a climax of disapproval. But I did not mind Mrs. Portheris's disapproval ; in fact, according to my classification of her, I should have been disappointed if she had not disapproved — it would have been out of character. So I only smiled as sweetly as I could, and said, ^ So am I.' ' Is it not very expensive ? ' There was a note of angry wonder as well as horror in this. 'I don't know, Mrs. Portheris. It's very comfortable.' ^ I never heard of such a thing in my life ! ' said Mrs. Portheris. * It's — it's outrageous! It's — it's not customary! 42 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON I call it criminal lenience on the part of my nephew to allow it. He must have taken leave of his senses ! ' ' Don't say anything nasty about poppa, Mrs. Portheris,' I remarked ; and she paused. ' As to your mother ' ' Momma is a lady of great intelligence and advanced views/ I interrupted, ' though she isn't very strong. And she is very well acquainted with me.' ' Advanced views are your ruin in America ! May 1 ask how you found your way here ? ' ' On a 'bus, Mrs. Portheris — the red Hammersmith kind. On two 'buses, rather, because I took the wrong one first, and went miles straight away from here ; but I didn't mind it — I liked it.' ' In an omnibus I suppose you mean. You couldn't very well be un it, unless you went on the top ! ' And Mrs. Portheris smiled rather derisively. ' I did ; I went on the top,' I returned calmly. ' And it was lovely.' Mrs. Portheris very nearly lost her self-control in her effort to grasp this enormity. Her cap bristled again, and the muscles round her mouth twitched quite perceptibly. ' Careering all over London on the top of an omnibus ! ' she ejaculated. ' Looking for my house ! And in that frock ! ' I felt about ten when she talked about my * frock.' ' Couldn't yoM feel that you were altogether too smart for such a position ? ' ' No, indeed, Mrs. Portheris ! ' I replied, unacquainted with the idiom. ' When I got down off the first omnibus in Cheap- side 1 felt as if I hadn't been half smart enough ! ' She did not notice my misunderstanding. By the time T had finished my sentence she was rapping the table with sup- pressed excitement. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 43 ' Miss Wick ! ' she said — and I had expected her to call me Mamie, and say I was the image of poppa ! — ' you are the daughter of my nephew — which can hardly be called a connec- tion at all — but on that account I will give you a piece of advice. The top of an omnibus is not a proper place for you — I might say, for any connection of mine, however distant ! I would not feel that I was doing my duty toward my nephew's daughter if I did not tell you that you must not go there ! Don't on any account do it again ! It is a thing people never do!' ' Do they upset ? ' I asked. ' They might. But apart from that, I must ask you, on personal — on family grounds — always to go inside. In Chicago you may go outside as much as you like, but in London ' 'Oh, no ! ' I interrupted, ' I wouldn't for the world — in Chicago ! ' which Mrs. Portheris didn't seem to understand. I had stayed dauntlessly for half an hour — I was so much interested in Mrs. Portheris — and I began to feel my ability to prolong the interview growing weaker. I was sorry — I would have given anything to have heard her views upon higher education and female suffrage, and the Future State and the Irish Question ; but it seemed impossible to get her thoughts away from the appalling Impropriety which I, on her spindly red chair, represented I couldn't blame her for that — I sup- pose no impropriety bigger than a spider had ever got into her drawing-room before. So I got up to go. Mrs. Portheris also rose, with majesty. I think she wanted to show me what, if I had been properly brought up, I might have expected reasonably to develop into She stood in the midst of her red brocaded farniture. with her hands folded, a model of what bringing up (;an do if it is unflinchingly persevered in, and all the mirrors 44 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON reflected the ideal she presented. I felt, beside her, as if I had never been brought up at all. ' Have you any friends in London ? ' she asked, with a very weak solution of curiosity in her tone, giving me her hand to facilitate my going, and immediately ringing the bell. ' I think not,' 1. said with decision. ^ But you will not continue to stay at the Metropole ! I heg that you will not remain another day at the Metropole ! It is not usual for young ladies to stay at hotels. You must go to some place where only ladies are received, and as soon as you are settled in one communicate at once with the rector of the parish — alone as you are, that is quite ar necessary step. Lights and fires will probably be extra.' ' I thought,' said I, ' of going to the Lady Guides' Associa- tion — we have heard of it in Chicago through some friends, who went round every day for three weeks with lady-guides, and found it simply fascinating — and asking them to get me a private family to board with. I particularly wished to see what a private family is like in England.' Mrs. Portheris frowned. ' I could never bring myself to approve of lady-guides,' she said, ' There is something in the idea that is altogether too — American.' 1 saw that the conver- sation was likely to grow personal again, so I said: 'Well, good-bye, Mrs. Portheris ! ' and was just going, when ' Stop ! * said my relation, ' there is Miss Purkiss.' ' Is there ? * said 1. * Certainly — the very thing ! Miss Purkiss is a very old friend of mine, in reduced circumstances. I've known her thirty-five years. She is an excellent woman, with the most trustworthy views upon all matters. In so far as our widely diiferent social positions have permitted. Miss Purkiss and 1 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 45 have been on terms, I may say, of sisterly intimacy since before you were born. She has no occupation now, having lost her position as secretary to the Home for Incurable Household Pets through ill-health, and a very limited income. She lives in au excessively modest way in Upper Baker Street — very convenient to both the omnibuses and Underground — and if you cast in *IT WAS MISS PUBKISS'S ADDRESS your lot with hers while you are in England, Miss Wick ' — here Mrs. Portheris grew almost demonstrative —'you need never go out alone. I need not say that she is a lady, but her cir- cumstances will probably necessitate her asking you rather more than the usual rate for board and lodging, in compensa- 46 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON tion for her chaperonage and companionship. All I can say is, that both will be very thorough. I will give you Miss Purkiss's address at ©nee, and if you drive there immediately you will be sure to find her in. John, call a hansom ! ' And Mrs. Forth eris went to her writing-table and wrote the address. * There ! ' she said, folding it up and giving it to me. ' By all means try to arrange with Miss Purkiss, and she, being a friend of my own, some afternoon, perhaps — I must think about it — I may ask her to bring you to tea ! Good-bye ! ' Vi.^^V^r:^ ' SPENT HALF AN HOUR IN THE MIDST OF MY TRUNKS As the door closed behind me I heard Mrs. Portheris's voice on the landing. ' Margaret and Isabel,' it said, * you may come down now ! ' * Ware to, miss ? ' said the driver. ' Hotel Metropole,' said I. And as we turned into Piccadilly AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 47 n little flutter of torn white paper went back on the wind to Mrs. Portheris. It was Miss Purkiss's address. After lunch I made careful notes of Mrs. Portheris, and then spent half an hour in the midst of my trunks, looking in the ' Board and Lodging ' rolumn of the ' Morning Post ' for accommodation which promised to differ as radically as possible i'ruiii Miss Purkiss's. 48 AN AMERICAS GIRL IN LONDON ^TY principal idea was to get away as soon as possible from the A Metropole. So long as I was located there I was within the grasp of my relation ; and as soon as she found out my insub- ordination in the matter of her advice, I had no doubt whatever that my relation would appear, with Miss Purkiss, all in rusty black, behind her — a contingency I wished to avoid. Miss Purkiss, I reflected, would probably be another type, and types were interesting, but not to live with — my relation had con- vinced me of that. And as to Mrs. Portheris herself, while I had certainly enjoyed what I had been privileged to see of her, her society was a luxury regarding which I felt that 1 could evercise considerable self-denial. I did not really contemplate being forced into Miss Purkiss and Upper Baker Street by Mrs. Portheris against my will, not for a moment ; but I was afraid the situation would be presented on philanthropic grounds, which would be disagreeable. Miss Purkiss as a terror I felt equal to, but Miss Purkiss as an object of charity might cow me. And Miss Purkiss in any staying capacity was not, I felt, what I came to Great Britain to experience. So I studied the columns of the ' Morning Post ' diligently for a haven of refuge from Miss Purkiss. I found it difficult to make a selection, the havens were so very different, and all so superior. 1 believe you talk about the originality of American advertising. I never in my life saw a AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 49 newspaper page to compare in either imagination or vocabulary with the one I scanned that day at the Metropole. It seemed 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 me until I had 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, Regent 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 and charmingly-refined home,' ' a mother's devoted super- vision,' ' fresh young society,' ' fashionably situated and ele- gantly furnished,' 'just vacated by a clergyman,' 'foreign languages understood ' — which 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 number of people who appeared in print with ' offerings ' of a domiciliary nature. ' A widow lady of cheerful temperament and artistic tastes offers ' ' The daughter of a late Civil Servant with a larger house than she requires offers ' This must have been a reference put in to excite sympathy, other- wise, what was the use of advertising the gentleman after he was dead ? Even from the sympathetic point of view, I think it was a mistake, for who would care to go and settle in a house the minute the crape was off the door ? Nobody. Not only original advertisements of the kind I was looking for, but original advertisements of kinds I wasn't looking for, appealed to my interest and took up my time that afternoon. ' Would any one feel disposed to lend an actress five pounds ? ^ * Temporary home wanted, with a family of quiet habits, in a 50 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON healthful neighbourhood, 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 him from ruin. Address, care of his solicitors.' ' A young gentleman, handsome, an orphan, of good education and agreeable address, wishes to meet with elderly couple with means (inherited) who would adopt him. Would make himself pleasant in the house. Church of England 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 without 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 mach more transparent, showing all the struggling mass, with its hands outstretched, on the other side. And yet I have heard English people 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 1 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 see about them. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 51 They were as much the same as the advertisements were different, especially from the outside. 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 be entirely unable to contradict her. This in itself was prejudicial. In America, if there is one thing 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 same 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, rather 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. 1 asked the servant-girl in the first place, about half-way up the fourth flight, if there was no elevator? ' No, indeed, miss,' she said ; 52 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ' I wishes there was ! But them's things you won't find but very seldom 'ere. We've 'ad American ladies 'ere before, and they alius asks for 'em, but they soon finds out they ain't to be 'ad, miss.' Now, how did she 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! Mrs. Jones, she only lets apartments. But there's a very nice restirong in Tottinim Court Road, quite convenient, an' your breakfast, miss, you couldj 'ave cooked 'ere, but, of course, it would be hextra, miss.' Then I remembered all I had read about people in liondon 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 t)n 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 53 after Mrs. Portheris, I felt that I required the companionship of something human. In the other two places I saw the landladies themselves in their respective drawing-rooms on the second floor. One of the drawing-rooms was ' draped ' in a way that was quite painfully aesthetic, considering the paucity 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 same scanty description. The only thing that had not made an effort 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 painted palm-leaf fan 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 high standard of starvation in that house, and she confirmed the impression. She was a Miss Hippy, a short, stoutish person, with very smooth hair, thin lips, 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 and a protest against being obliged to do it. I feel that the particular variety of smile she gave me with her ' Good morning ! ' — although it was after 4 p.m. — was one she kept for the use of boarders only, and her whole manner was an interrogation. When she said, 'Is it for yourself ? ' in answer to my question about rooms, I felt that I was undergoing a cross-examination, the result of which Miss Hippy was men- tally tabulating. ' We }wjV& a few rooms,' said Miss Hippy, ' certainly.' Then she cast her eyes upon the floor, and twisted her fingers up in 54 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON lier watch-chain, as if in doubt. * Shall you be long in London ? ' 1 said I couldn't tell exactly. ' Have you — are you a professional of any kind ?' inquired Miss Hippy. *Not that I object to professional ladies — they are often very pleasant. Madame Solfreno resided here for several weeks while she was retrenching ; but Madame 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 had head-ladies here ; and real ladies, I must say, I have gene- rally found them. Although hands, of course, I would not take ! ' I said I was not a professional. * Oh ! ' said Miss Hippy, pitiably baffled. * Then, perhaps, you are not a — a young 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 have^' she said. 'I think,' I replied, 'that you might as well. Otherwise I will not detain you any longer.' At which, curiously enongli, all hesitation vanished from Miss Elippy's manner, and she showed me all her rooms, and expatiated upon all their advan- tages with a single eye to pej-suading 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 $5 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 ' — Miss 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 off the dining- room ! * ' That is unfortunate,' I said, * since I think in this house I would prefer a room on the ground- floor. But if I decide to take one of the others I will let you know. Miss Hippy.' Miss 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 ! * My 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, which might have floated in from other regions, made it impossible. T waited for the lady of the house a conscious hypocrite. 6 56 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON She came in at last voluminously, rather out of breath but with great warmth of manner. ' Do sit down ! ' she said. * 1 WAITED FOR THE LADY OF THE HOUSE A CONSCIOUS HYPOCRITE ' *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 $7 see, I've got four young 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 come in to-day, j ust 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 bigger — thirty shillin's. You see, they're both bein' turned out at present, so it's rather unfavourable ! ' — and the lady drew in the deep breath she had lost going up the stairs. I 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 good-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 58 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 straight back to the M6tropole, very thankful indeed that that was evidently the thing to do next. If there had been no evident thing to do next, I was so depressed in my mind that I think I would have taken a ticket to Liverpool that night, and ray 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 houses, 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 nice 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 aftei 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- ai^reeable 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 childish and unreasonable. I wished then, 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. Then it means something. This one meant two cards on a salver and a mes- sage. One of the cards read : ' Mrs. Cummers Portheris,' wit h ' Miss PurJciss ' written under it in pencil ; the other, ' Mr. Charles Mafferton,' with ' 49, Hertford Street, May fair,' in one corner, and ' The Isthmian Club ' 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 that one lady was to be 'ere again to-morrow mornin' at ten, miss. The gentleman, he didn't leave no mes- Then my heart beat again, and joyfully, for I knew that I had missed my relation and Miss Purkiss, 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 came at dinner, when I discovered my neighbours to be two delight- ful ladies from St. Pa;ul, 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. 1 was AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 6i made to promise that I would send them my address when I was settled, and to this day I suffer from unquieted pangs of conscience because I failed to keep my 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 me 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. Ithad 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. T^^o 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. I 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 she came into my confidence, as it were, at once. ' What you want,' she 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 hinds^ 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 miuute ! ' the lady said, turning over the pages of another big book. * There's a great deal, as you probably know, in locality in London. We must try aud get you something in a nice locality. Piccadilly, for instance, is a very favourite locality — I think we have something in Half- Moon Street ' * Gracious ! ' I said. * No ! not Half-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 Half-Moon Street ! But we can easily give you something else — the other side of the Park, perhaps ! ' * Yes,' I said, earnestly. * Quite the other side, 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, very clean and nice. I think we'll put iliem down. And then two or three private ones — excuse me one minute. There ! I think among those/ with sudden gravity, ' you ought to find something suitable at from two to three-and- a-half guineas per week ; but if you do not, be sure to come in again. We always like to give our clients satisfaction.' The lady smiled again in that pardonable, endearing way ; and I was 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- ing. But she was so engaged 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 her face, and she coughed 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. * There is a — a charge,' she said, ' of two-and-sixpence. You did not know.' So I went back uncomfortably and paid. * Thanks, yes ! ' said the lady in the cage. ' T<^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 her. ' 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, T managed in the end to pay my very proper fee to the Lady Guides' Association, and I sincerely hope 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON mistake turned out rather pleasantly for me, because it led rae into further conversation with 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 off 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 numbers of people in London who only know enough about tlie Lady Guides' Association to smile when it is mentioned, and to say, ' Did you go there .? ' 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 offices 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 Metropole. Of course, I asked any number of questions about the scope and working of the Association, and the little lady answered them all with great fluency. It was nice to hear of such extended usefulness— how the Lady Guides engage governesses, or servants, or seats at the theatre, and provide AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 65 dinners and entertainments, and clothes to wear at them, and suitable manners ; and take care of children by the day — I ao not remember whether the little lady said tliey undertook to bring them up — and furnish eyes and understanding, certified, to all visitors in London, at ' a fixed tariff' — all except gentle- men unaccompanied by their families. ' Such clients,' the little lady said, with a shade of sadness, I fancied, that there should be 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-applicants, and there would be, of course, no necessity for sending young lady -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 gentlemau from Japan. He told us he never would have come to England if he had not heard of our Association, being a perfect stranger, with- out a friend in the place.' ' And unacquainted with English prejudices,' I put in. ' Quite so. And what could we do ? ' ' What did you do ? ' I inquired. ' We sent two /' responded the little lady, triumphing once more over the situation. ' Nobody could say an^x^^N 1 T struck me, from the outside, as oddly im- posing — Madame Tussaud,'s. Partly, I suppose, because it is always more or less treated jocosely, partly because of the homely little familiar name, and partly because a person's expecta- tions of a waxwork show are naturally not very lofty. I was looking out for anything but a swelling dome and a flag, and the high brick walls of an In- stitution. There seemed a grotesqueness of dignity about it, which was empha- sised by the solemn man at the turnstile who took the shillings 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 marble stairs, and the urns in the corners, and the oil paint- io6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ings on the landings, and everything. I began asking Mr. Mafferton questions immediately, quite in the subdued voice people use under impressive circumstances ; but he wasn't certain who the architect was, and couldn't say where the marble came from, and really didn't know how many years the wax- works had been in existence, and hadn't the least idea what the gross receipts were per annum — did not, in fact, seem to think he ought to be expected to be acquainted with these matters. The only thing he could tell me definitely was that Madame Tussaud was dead — and I knew that myself. ' Upon my word, you know,' said Mr. Mafferton, ' I haven't been here since I was put into knickers ! ' I was surprised at this remark when 1 heard it, for Mr. Mafferton was usually elegant 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 thinking of the old story about Americans draping the legs of their pianos ; but if I were you I would discount that story. For 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 ! Who is that ? and why is lie 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 fancy they're very complete — and reliable, Miss Wick,' lie said. ' You — you really mustn't depend upon me. It's such an unconscionable time since I left school.' I told Mr. Mafferton I was sure that was only his modest way of putting it, and that I knew he had reams of English 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 I was in the immediate society of all the 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 Mr. Mafferton, reflectively, a little way off. ' No,' I said, ' it's beautiful ! ' But I think he meant the selections, and I meant the kings and queens, to whom he was not paying the slightest attention. But I did not find fault with him for that — he 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 Republican principles. But to me those quaint groups of royalties in the robes and jewels of other times, 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 Madame Tussaud's better than any- thing else I've seen in England, at the risk of being considered io8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON a person of low intelligence. I know that Mr. James Russell Lowell — whom poppa always 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 English 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, however, ' that's as it may be.' All I know is, that whatever Mr. Lowell, 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. MafTerton, ' 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 brassinesa of the crowns and the glassiness of the jewels might obtrude themselves the second 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 mediasval romance in America — and there, about me, was the fairy tale realised : all the curious AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 109 old people who died of a ' surfeit of lampreys/ or of a bad temper, or of decapitation, or in other ways which would be 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 queens, any other distinction would be considered invidious. I looked up while I was thinking about them, and caught Mr. Mafferton 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. Mafferton. * Imbecile 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 round, a certain freedom of criticism — depended upon it, I had reason to believe afterwards, unwarrantably. * Let us look at them individually,' I said, rising. * Collec- tively, I find them lovable.* ' Well, now, I envy them ! ' replied Mr. Mafferton, with great coolness. This was surprisingly frivolous in Mr. Mafferton, who was usually quite what would be called a serious person, and just for a minute I did not quite know what to say. Then I laughed a little frivolously too. ' I suppose you intend that for a compliment, Mr. Mafferton,' 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 Mr. Mafferton — which made no AN AMERICAN CTRL IN LONDON the situation awkward 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 William the Conqueror ? ' I said, by way of changing the subject. ' It may be a little like his clothes,' said Mr. Mafferton, indifferently. * Oh ! don't say that, Mr. Mafferton. I'm sure he looks every inch a William the Conqueror ! See how polite he is to his wife, too — I suppose that's because he's French ? ' Mr. Mafferton didn't say anything, and it occurred to me that perhaps I 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. Mafferton, with that type of face — enterprising, you know — and hair tliat length, only it ought to be dark, and if the crown were only a wide-brimmed, soft felt hat — he reminds me very much of those Californian ranchers and miners Bret Harte and Joaquin Miller write about.' * Do you mean cowboys ? ' asked Mr. Mafferton, in a way 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 Canyon." ' ' Can't say 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 ic 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 HO THIS IS WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR !!2 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Curfew, and the Doomsday Book, and introducing old families into England ? ' Mr. Mafferton bit his moustache. I had never seen any- body bite his moustache before, though I had always understood from novels that it was done in England. Whether American gentlemen have better tempers, or whether they are afraid of injuring it, or why the habit is not a common one with us, I am unable to say. ' Really, Miss Wick,' Mr. Mafferton responded, with six degrees of frost, ' I — is there nothing about it in the cata- logue ? He established the only date which would ever stick in my memory — 1066. But you mustn't think he brought all the old families in England over with him. Miss Wick — it is incorrect.' ' I daresay,' I said ; ' people get such curious ideas about Kngland in America, Mr. Matferton.' But that did not seem to please Mr. Mafferton 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 J know of Mr. 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 William the Second, surnamed Rufus, 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, with 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 wondering whether they pulled the arrow out, because in my history it didn't say they did.' 'It's a fact,' said Mr. Mafferton ; ' one always does think of AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 113 the old chap with the arrow sticking in him. 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 daresay, it's been done scores of times.' * And sold to be lithographed in advertisements ! ' I added. *Ah, Miss Wick, that is the utilitarian American way of looking at things ! ' Mr. Mafferton 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 far as Henry the Second, Curtmantle, whom Madame Tussaud describes as a * wise and good king,' and who certainly has an amiable, open countenance, I noticed that all the crowns were different, and asked Mr. Mafferton about it — whether at that 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. Mafferton 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, sumamed Coeur de Lion, in some 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 said so to Mr. Mafferton, who agreed with me, though without enthusiasm. *The worst king who ever sat on the English 714 AX AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON tlirone ! ' I repeated, meditatively, quoting from Mndame Tussaud — * that's saying a great deal, isn't it, Mr. Mafli'erton ? ' My escort said No, he couldn^t say he thought it represented sucli an acme of wickedness, and we walked on, past swarthy little sad Charles the Second, in armour and lace, who looks — and how could he help it ? — as if he 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, including some of his wives, stepping forward in an impulsive, emotional way. listening, with grief in both his eyes, to the orchestra's rendition of Bury 1 Bury I Let the grave close o'er, as if deeply deprecating the painful necessity of again becoming a widower. It was beautiful to see the way the music worked upon his feelings. It will be impossible for me ever to think so badly of him again. * What is your impression of him ? ' 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 Mr. MafFerton's tone that, while it was pardonable to think badly of an English monarch, it was improper to a degree to find him amusing. Then T observed that they were all listening with Henry the AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 115 Eighth — Philippa of Hainault with her pink nose, and the Black Prince in mail, and Catharine of Arragon embracing her monkey, and Cardinal Wolsey 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 I 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 Mr. Mafferton — but somehow his manner did not encourage me to do it — whether in those very early times kings were able to wear their crowns eveiy day without exciting comment, as Madame Tussaud distinctly gives you the idea that they did. And it seemed to me that in those days it must have been really worth while to be a king, and be 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, Mr. 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 ! i6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XI I HAD not tlie least expectation of beiug fortunate enough to see your Parliament open, having always heard that all the peeresses wanted to go on that occasion, and knowing how little sitting accommodation you had for anybody. Americans find nothing more impressive in England than the difficulty of get- ting a look at your system of government — our own is so very 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. The thing an American tells first, and with most pride, when he comes home after visiting England, is that he has attended a sitting of Parliament and seen Mr. Gladstone; if he has heard your veteran politician speak, he is prouder still. So I had cherished the hope of some- how getting into the House while Parliament 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 Mr. Mafferton, with a note informing Lady 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 I don't think she intended to express her pleasure when she said, with an air of philosophical acceptance of whatever Fate might send, ' Provi- AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON \\^ dence only knows, my dear, how the old man will behave ! He may be as agreeable as possible — as merry as a grig — and he may be in a temper like the ' ; and Lady Torquilin com- pressed her lips and nodded her head in a way that told me how her remark would finish if she were not a member of the Church of England, rather low, and a benefactor to deep-sea fishermen and Dr. Barnardo, with a strong objection to tobacco in any form. ' We must avoid subjects that are likely to provoke him : local self-government for Ireland has given him apoplexy 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 upon me that this was Mr. Mafferton'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 you said was an old ' * Brute ! ' Lady Torquilin finished for me, seeing that I didn't quite like to. ' So he is, when he's in a rage ! I wouldn't be Lady Mafierton, poor dear, for something! 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 Torquilin's ' K,' I may say, while I am talking about it, was the ' O.M.G.' 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 raent, I am sorry we have nothing even remotely like it iu America. It was a nice day, a lovely day, an extraordinary day, the February day Lady Torqnilin and 1 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 suppose 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-sounding name, that suggests at least a mayor and a town council of its own. It was odd to find it about twenty minutes from anywhere in London, and not to 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 Torquilin immediately asked one of the policemen which way to go — I don't know any- body who appreciates what you might call the encyclopaedic value of the London police more that Lady Torquilin — and he waved us on. ' Straight ahead, madarne, and turn in at the 'orseback statyou,' he said, genially, the distance being not more than two hundred yards from where 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 1 at once pronounced to be peeresses, through the broad, quiet, red corridor that leads to the House of Lords. Ay AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 119 We were among the very first, and had our choice of the long, narrow seats that run along the wall in a terrace on each side of the Chamber. Fortunately, Lady Torquilin had attended other openings of Parliament, and knew that we must sit on the left; otherwise we 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 been awful. But, as it happened, we sat down very decorously in our proper places, and I tried to realise, as we looked at the crowded galleries and the 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. Most of the senators are grey -haired, and many of them are bald, but they all walk about quite nimbly, and talk before the proceedings begin with a certain vivacity ; and there are 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. The only thing I could feel in the House of Lords that morning was a concentrated atmospheric essence of Importance. I was thinking of a thing Senator Ingalls said to me two years ago, which was what you would call ' comic,* when the idea struck me that it was almost time for Parliament to open, and not a single peer had arrived. So I asked Lady Torquilin when the lords might be expected to come in. Up to this time we had been discussing the millinery bv which we were surrounded. ' 1 daresay there won't be many to-day,' said Lady Torquilin. ' Certainly very few so far ! ' ' Are there any here ? ' I asked her. *()li, yes — just opposite, don't you see, child! That well- 9 I20 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON set-up man with the nice, wholesome face, the third from the end in the second row from the bottom — that's Lord Rosebery ; 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 Rosebery.* *Tell me when I can look,' I said, 'because I want to awfully. But, Lady Torquilin, are those peers? They look very respectable and nice, I'm sure, but I did expect more in the way of clothes. Where are their flowing mantles, and their chains and swords and things ? ' ' Only when the Queen opens Parliament in person,' said Lady Torquilin. 'Then there is a turn-out! Now you can look at Lord Mafferton — the rude old man ! Fancy his having the impudence to. sit there with his hat on !' I looked at Lord Mafferton, who certainly had not removed his hat — the large, round, shiny silk 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 snubby nose, and little twinkling blue eyes, and a suggestion of white whisker 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 envy, from the fact that we can neither produce peers in our own country nor keep them there for any length of time ; but I was obliged to believe ray own eyes, and that is the way they reported Lord Mafferton from the othei' side of your Upper House. There were other gentlemen in the rows opposite — gentlemen all in black, and gentlemen in light waist- AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON I2! coats, 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 reason, 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 — that possibly the delicate distinctions and values that make up a peer would be 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 standing 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. Presently 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 minute to get something,' I said to Lady Torquilin ; and then she told 122 • AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON me what, of course, 1 ought to have known if 1 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, to 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 day be obliged to make a habit of dressing up 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 Vice-Chancellor read the Queen's letter, in which Her Majesty, so 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 Malfer- AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 123 ton in a pudgy, hearty way^ as he and Lady Torquilin and I departed together. ' So this is our little Yankee ! ' said Lord Mafferton, with his fat round chin stretched out sideways, and his hands behind his back. Now I am quite five-feet eight, and I do not like being called names, but I found a diffi- culty in telling Lord Maff'erton that I was not their little Yankee ; so I smiled, and said nothing. ' Well, well ! Come over the " duckpond " — isn't that what you call the Atlan- tic Ocean ? — to see how fast old Eng- land is going to pieces, eh ? ' ' Oh ! ' said Lady Torquilin, ' I think Miss Wick is delighted with England, Lord Mafferton.' ' Yes,' I said, ' I am. Delighted with it ! Why should any- body think it is going to pieces ? ' ' Oh, it's a popular fancy in some quarters,' said Lord LORD MAFFERTON. 124 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Mafferton. Being a lord, I don't suppose he winked at Lady Torquilin, but he did something 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. ' Miss Wick would like a look over the place, I suppose,' he said to Lady Torquilin. *You think it would be safe, eh? No explosives concealed about her — she doesn't think of blowing 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 went so fast. ' No doubt you've heard of Cromwell,' he said beside one door. I should have liked to know why he asked me, if there was no doubt of it ; but 1 suppose a lord is not necessarily a logician. 'This is the 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 Madame Tussaud's ? ' ' I dare say ! I dare say ! ' said Lord Mafferton. ' But not so fast, my dear young lady, not so fast ! You mustn't go m, you know. That's not allowable ! ' and he whisked us away to the Library. ' Of course, Miss Wick understands,' he said to Lady Torquilin, ' that every word 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 had 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 125 same time — they continually interrupted each other. It was in the Eoyal Banqueting Hall, for instance, where I was doing my best to meditate upon scenes of the past, that Lord Mafferton 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. They all seemed interested in each other in an observing way, too, and whether to bow or not to bow ; and when Lord Mafferton recognised any of them, he was usually recognised back with great cordiality. You don't see so much of that 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 British Government does not provide cuspidores for its legislators, which struck me as reflecting very favourably upon the legislative sense of propriety here, especially as there seemed to be no obvious demand for such a thing. ' Bless you, my dear young lady, you mustn't go in fhere ! * exclaimed Lord Mafferton at the door of the House, as I stepped in to take a perfectly inoffensive look at it. * Out with you quick, or they'll have you off to the Tower before you can say George Washington ! ' ' But why ? ' I asked, quite breathless with my sudden exit. * Young people should never ask " why ? " ' said Lord Mafferton, serio-comically. ' Thank your American stars that Salisbury or any of those fellows were not about ! ' This peer evidently thought I was very, very young — about twelve; but I have noticed since that not only peers, but all 126 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON agreeable old gentlemen in England, have a habit of dating you back in this way. It is a kindly, well-meant attitude, but it leaves you without very much to say. mSARRANOEP MY FEATURES FOR LIFE AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 177 I thought feminine privileges in your House of Commons very limited indeed then, but considerably more so when I attended a sitting with Lady Torquilin a week later, and disarranged my features for life trying to look through the diamonds of the iron grating with which Parliament tries to screen itself from the criticism of its lady relations. Lord MafFerton came up that day with us, and explained that the grating was to prevent the ladies from throwing themselves at the heads of the unmarried members — a singular precaution. The only other reason I could hear why it should not be taken down was that nobody had done it since it was put up — a remarkably British reason, and calcu- lated, as most things seem to be in this country, to last. Aad I saw your Prince that afternoon. He came into the Peers' Gallery in a light overcoat, and sat down with two or three friends to watch his people governing their country below. He seemed thoroughly interested, and at times, when Mr. OBrien or Mr. O'Connor said something that looked toward the dis- memberment of his empire, amused. And it was an instructive sight to see your future king pleased and edified, and unen- cumbered by any disagreeable responsibilities, looking on. 128 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XII I TOLD Lady Torquilin that the expression struclc me as profane. * How ridiculous you are, child ! It's a good old English word. Nobody will understand you if you talk about your " rubbers " in this country. " Goloshes," certainly. G-o- 1-o-S'h-e-s, "goloshes." Now, go directly and put them on, and don't be impertinent about the English language in Eng- land, whatever you may be out of it ! ' I went away murmuring, ^ " G-o-l-o-s-h-e-s, goloshes"! What a perfectly awful — literally unutterable word ! No, I love Lady Torquilin, and I like her England, but I'll never, never, never say " goloshes " ! I'd almost rather swear ! ' And as I slipped on the light, thin, flexible articles manufactured, I believe, in Rochester, N.Y., and privately compared them with the remarkable objects worn by the British nation for the purpose of keeping its feet dry, the difference in the descriptive terms gave me a certain satisfaction. Lady Torquilin and I were going shopping. I had been longing to shop in London ever ^ince I arrived, but, as Lady Torquilin remarked^ my trunks seemed to make it almost un- reasonable. So up to this time I had been obliged to content myself with looking at the things in the windows, until Lady Torquilin said she really couldn't spend so much time in front AY AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 129 of shop- windows — we had better go inside. Besides, she argued, of course there was this to be said — if you bought a good thing, there it was — always a good thing! ' And it isn't as if you were obliged to pinch, my dear. I would be the' last one to counsel extravagance,' said Lady Torquilin. ' Therefore we'll go to the cheapest place first ' — and we got an omnibus. It seemed full of people who were all going to the cheapest place, and had already come, some of them a long way, to go to it, judging by their fares. They were not poor people, nor respectably-darned people, nor shabby-genteel people. Some of them looked like people with incomes that would have enabled them to avoid the cheapest place, and some gave you the idea that, if it were not for the cheapest place, they would not look so well. But they had an invariable expression of content with the cheapest place, or appreciation of it, that made me quite certain they would all get out when we stopped there ; and they did. We went in with a throng that divided and hurried hither and thither through long ' departments,' upstairs and down, past counters heaped with cheapnesses, and under billowing clouds and streaming banners of various colours, marked Is. \\dj. and ll|c2. in very black letters on a very white ground. The whole place spoke of its cheapness, invited you to approach and have your every want supplied at the lowest possible scale of profit — for cash. Even the clerks — as we say in America, incorrectly, I believe — the people behind the counter suggested the sweet reasonableness of the tariff ; not that I mean anything invidious, but they seemed to be drawn from an unpretending, inexpensive class of humanity. The tickets claimed your attention every- where, and held it, the prices on them were so remarkably low ; and it was to me at first a matter of regret that they were all I30 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON attached to articles I could not want under any circumstances. For, the moment I went in. I succumbed to the cheapest place ; I desired to avail myself of it to any extent — to get the benefit * THE WHOLE PLACE SPOKE OF ITS CHEAPNESS ' of those fascinating figures personally and immediately. I fol- lowed Lady Torquilin with eagerness, exclaiming : but nothing would induce her to stop anywhere ; she went straight for the AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 131 trifles she wanted, and I perforce after her. ' There are some things, my dear,' she said, when we reached the right counter, ' that one 'must come here for, but beyond those few odds and ends — well, I leave you to judge for yourself.' This was calculated to dash a pei son's enthusiasm, and mine was dashed at once. There is nothing, in shopping, like a friend's firm and outspoken opinion, to change your views. I began to think unfavourably of the cheapest place immediately, and during the twenty-five minutes of valuable time which Lady Torquilin spent, in addition to some small silver, upon a box of pink paper trimmings for pudding-dishes, I had arrived at a state of objection to the cheapest place, which intensified as we climbed more stairs, shared more air with the British Public of the cheapest place, and were jostled at more counters. ' For,' Lady Torquilin said, ' now that we are here, though 1 loathe coming, except that it's something you ought to do, we really might as well see what there is ! ' — and she found that there were quite a number of little things at about a shilling and a ha'penny that she absolutely needed, and would have to pay 'jnst double for, my dear, anywhere else.' By that time my objection be- came active, and embraced the cheapest place and everything connected with it, quite unreasonably. For there was no doubt about the genuineness of the values ofr»>red all over its counters, or about the fact that the clerks were doing the best they could to sell seven separate shillings'-worth at the same moment to different individuals, or of the respectability of the seven people who were spending the seven shillings. It would have been a relief, indeed, to have detected something fraudulent among the bargains, or some very great adventuress among the customers. It was the deadly monotony of goodishness and cheapishness in everything and everybody that oppressed you. There were no 132 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON heights of excellence and no contrasting depths — all one level of quality wherever you looked — so that the things they sold at the cheapest place — sold with mechanical respect, and as fast as they could tie them up — seemed to lack all individuality, and to have no reason for being, except to become parcels. There was none of the exultation of bargain-getting ; the bargains were on a regular system of fixed laws — the poetic delight of an unex- pected ' reduction ' was wholly absent. The cheapest place resolved itself into a vast, well-organised Opportunity, and inside you saw the British Public and the Opportunity together. • 'Ere is your chainge, madam,' said the hollow-eyed young woman who had been waiting upon Lady Torquilin in the matter of a letter-weight and a Japanese umbrella. ' Thank you,' said Lady Torquilin. ' I*m afraid you get very tired, don't you, before the day is over?' my friend asked the young woman, with as sweet a smile as she could have given anybody. The young woman smiled back again, and said, ' Very, laadame'; but that was all, for three other people wanted her. I put this in because it is one of the little things she often says that show the niceness of Lady Torquilin. ' Now, what do you think of the cheapest place ? ' asked Lady Torquilin as we walked together in the Edgware Road. I told her as I have told you. ' H'mph ! ' said she. ' It's not a shop I like myself, but that's what I call being too picksome ! You get what you want, and if you don't want it you leave it, and why should you care ! Now, by way of variety, we'll go to the dearest place ; ' and the omnibus we got into rattled off in the direction of Bond Street. It struck me then, and often since, how oddly difierent London is from an American city to go shopping in. At home the large, important stores are pretty much together, in the business part of the city, and anybody can AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 133 tell from the mere buildings what to expect in the way of style and price. In London you can't tell at all, and the well-known shops are scattered over square miles of streets, by twos an^ threes, in little individaal towns, each with its own congregation of smaller shops, and its own butchers and bakers and news- stands, and post-office and squares and * places,' and blind alleys and strolling cats and hand organs ; and to get from one to another of the little towns it is necessary to make a journey in an omnibus. Of course, I know there are a few places pre- eminent in reputation and ' form ' and price — above all in price — which gather in a few well-known streets ; but life in all these little centres which make up London would be quite complete without them. They seem to exist for the benefit of that extra- vagant element here that has nothing to do with the small respect- able houses and the little domestic squares, bat hovers 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 Post.' The people who really live in London — the people of the little centres — can quite well ignore these places ; they have their special shop in Uxbridge Road or St. Paul's 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 Westboume Grove. 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 diflferent sub- municipalities. While I was thinking these things. Lady Torquilin poked me with her parasol from the other end of the omnibus. ' Tell him to stop ! ' she said, and I did ; at least, the gentleman in the comer made the request for me. That gentleman in the 134 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON corner is a feature of your omnibus system, 1 think. His arm, or his stick, or his umbrella, is always at the service oi any lady ' THAT OENTIjEMAN IN THE CORNER IS A FEATURE OF YOUR OMNIBUS SYSTEM, I THINK ' who wants the bell rung. It seems to be a duty that goes with the corner seat, cheerfully accepted by every man that sits there. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 135 We had arrived in Bond Street, at the dearest place. Frou) what Lady Torquilin told me, I gathered that Bond Street was a regular haunt for dearest places ; but it would be im- possible for any stranger to suppose so from walking through it — it is so u arrow and crooked and irregular, and the shops are so comparatively insignificant after the grand sweep of Regent Street and the wide variety of the circuses. For one, I should have thought circuses would be the best possible places for busi- ness in London, not only because the address is so easily remem- bered, but because once you get into them they are so extremely difficult to get out of. However, a stranger never can tell. Inside, the dearest place was a stronger contrast to the cheapest place than I could describe by any antithesis. There was an exclusive emptiness about it that seemed to suggest a certain temerity in coming in, and explained, considered com- mercially, why the rare visitors should have such an expensive time of it. One or two tailor-made ladies discussed something in low tones with an assistant, and beside these there was no- body but a couple of serious-minded shopwalkers, some very elegant young ladies-in-waiting, and the dummies that called your attention to the fashions they were exhibiting. The dummies were headless, but probably by the variety of their clothes they struck you as being really the only personalities in the shop. We looked at some of them before advancing far into the august precincts of the dearest place, and Lady Torquilin had a sweeping opinion of them. '■ Hideous ! I call them,' she said ; but she said it in rather a hushed tone, quite different from the one she would have used in the cheapest place, and I am sure the shopwalker did not overhear. ' Bulgarian atrocities ! How in the world people imagine such things ! And as to setting to work to 'mdli& them ' 10 £36 AN 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 were rather hard and unsympathetic ; they seemed to sacrifice every- thing to be in some degree striking ; their motto seemed to be, ' Let us achieve a difference ' — presumably from the fashions of places that were only dear in the comparative degree. While we were looking at them, one of the pale young women strolled languidly up and remarked, with an absent expression, that one of them was ' considered a smart little gown, moddam ! ' * Smart 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 the ignorance implied. Lady Torquilin went on to describe the kind of dress I thought of buying. ' Certainly, moddam ! Will you take a seat, moddam ? Something quite simple I think you said, moddam, and in muslin. I'll be with you in one moment, moddam.' And the 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 what I wore when I was a girl ! ' * Yes, moddam ! ' said the young woman, condescending to 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 IN 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. Certainly, moddam ! as 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 made 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. RAG GAVE US A VERT FRANK AND FULL-FLAVOURED CRITICISM OF OUR DRESSES ' '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 he^irt for another sovereign for the Paddock. On the way home she said she was sorry I had had such a dull day, and AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 235 tliat it was lier first and last attempt to ' screw ' Ascot. But I had not had at all a dull day — it had been immensely interest- ing, to say nothing of the pleasure of meeting Colonel and Mrs. Silverthorn. I quite agreed with Mrs. Bangley CofiSn, 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 Miss Wick miss -1 the Boats,' said Mr. MafFerton one day, over his after- noon-tea in Lady Torquilin's flat. I looked at Lady Torquilin, and said I thought Mr. Mafferton must be mistaken ; I had never missed a boat in my life, and, besides, we hadn't been going anywhere by boat lately. The reason we had put off our trip to Richmond five times was invariably because of the weather. Peter Corke happened to be there that afternoon, too, though she didn't make much of a visit. Miss Corke never did stay very long when Mr. 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. Mafferton, 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 terms by which you mean something that you do not say. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 237 The discussion ended, very happily for me, in an arrangement suggested jointly by Miss Corke and Mr. Mafferton. Lady Torquilin and I should go to Oxford to see ' the Eights.' Mr. Mafferton had a nephew at Pembroke, and no doubt the young cub would be delighted to look after us. Miss Corke's younger brother was at Exeter, and she would write to the dear boy at once that he must be nice to us. Peter was very sorry she couldn't come herself — 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, thinking about it, as it were, externally. As a name it is so constantly before us, and the terms of respect in which the English despatches speak of it are so marked, that its importance in our eyes has become extremely great. We think it a city, of course — no place could grow to such fame without being a city — and with us the importance of a city naturally invests itself in large blocks of fine buildings chiefly devoted to business, in a widely-extended and highly- perfected telephone system, and in avenues of Queen Anne i*esidences with the latest modern conveniences. And Lady Torquilin, on the way, certainly talked a great deal about ' the High ' — which she explained to be Oxford's principal thorough- fare — and the purchases she had at one time or another made on it, comparing Oxford with London prices. So that I had quite an extensive State Street or Wabash Avenue idea of ' the High.' Both our young gentlemen friends were fractional parts of the Eights, and were therefore unable to meet us. It had been arranged that we should lunch with one at two, and take tea with the other at five, but Lady Torquilin declared herself in urgent need of something sustaining as soon as we arrived, and 238 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON * Shall we go to the Clarendon to get it ? ' said she, * or to Boffin's?' * What is Boffin's ? ' I inquired. It is not safe, in English localisms, to assume that you know anything. ' Boffin's is a pastry-cook's.' Lady Torquilin informed me, and I immediately elected for Boffin's. It was something idyllic, in these commonplace days, when Dickens has been so long dead, that Boffin should be a pastry-cook, and that a pastry-cook should be Boffin. Perhaps it struck me especially, because in America he would have been a 'confectioner,' with some aesthetic change in the spelling of the original Boffin that I am convinced could not be half so good for business. And we walked up a long, narrow, quiet street, bent like an elbow, lined with low-roofed little shops devoted chiefly, as I remember them, to the sale of tennis-racquets, old prints, sausages, and gentle- men's neckties, full of quaint gables, and here and there lapsing into a row of elderly stone houses that had all gone to sleep together by the pavement, leaving their worldly business to the care of the brass-plates on their doors. Such a curious old street we went up to Boffin's, so peaceful, nothing in it but inoffensive boys pushing handcarts, and amiable gentlemen advanced in years with spectacles — certainly more of these than I ever saw together in any other place — never drowsing far from the shadow of some serious grey pile, ivy-bearded and intent, like a vener- able scholar — oh, a very curious old street ! ' Shall we get,' said I to Lady Torquilin, ' any glimpse of the High before we reach Boffin's ? ' Dear Lady Torquilin looked at me sternly, as if to discover some latent insincerity. ' None of your impertinence, miss,' said she ; ' iMs is the High ! ' I was more charmed and delighted than I can express, and as Lady Torquilin fortunately remembered several things we AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 239 urgently needed, and could buy to much better advantage in Oxford than in ' Town,' I had the great pleasure of finding out what it was like to shop in the High, and the other queer little streets which are permitted to run — no, to creep — about the feet of the great wise old colleges that take such kindly notice of them. It was very nice, to my mind, that huddling together of pastry-cooks and gargoyles, of chapels and old china shops, of battered mediaeval saints and those little modern errand-boys with their handcarts — of old times and new, preponderatingly old and respectfully new. Much more democratic, too, than a seat of learning would be in America, where almost every college of reputation is isolated in the sea of ' grounds,' and the only sound that falls upon the academic ear is the clatter of the lawn-mower or the hissing of the garden-hose. Nor shall T soon forget the emotions with which I made a perfectly inoffensive purchase in a small establishment of wide reputation for petty wares, called, apparently from time immemorial, ^ The Civet Cat ' — not reproachfully, nor in a spirit of derision, but bearing the name with dignity in painted letters. People who know their way about Oxford will understand how we found ours to Pembroke from the High. I find that I have forgotten. We stood at so many corners to look, and Lady Torquilin bade me hurry on so often, that the streets and the colleges, and the towers and the gardens, are all lost to me in a crowded memory that diverges with the vagueness of enchant- ment from Carfax and Boffin's. But at last we walked out of the relative bustle of the highways and byways into the quietest place I ever saw or felt, except a graveyard in the Strand— a green square hedged in with buildings of great dignity and solidity, and very serious mind. I felt, as we walked around it to ask a respectable-looking man waiting about on the other 240 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON side where Mr. Sanders Horton's rooms were, as if I were in church. ' Yes m ! This way'm, if ^/ow please,' baid the respectable- FELT AS IF I WERE IN CHURCH looking man. 'Mr. 'Orton's rooms is on the first floor h'up, 'm' ; and as Mr. Horton himself had come out on the landing to AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 241 receive us, and was presently very prettily shaking hands with us, we had no further difficulty. Our host had not considered himself equal to lunching two strange ladies unassisted, however, and as he looked a barely possible nineteen, this was not remarkable, Lady Torquilin thought afterwards. He immedi- ately introduced his friend. Lord Symonds, who seemed, if any- thing, less mature, but whose manners were quite as nice. Then we all sat down in Mr. Sanders Horton's pretty little room, and watched the final evolution of luncheon on the table, and talked about the view. ' You have a lovely lawn,' said I to Mr, Horton, who responded that it wasn't a bad quad ; and when I asked if the respectable-looking man downstairs was the caretaker of the college : ' Oh, nothing so swagger ! ' said Lord Symonds ; ' probably a scout ! ' And the presence of a quad and a scout did more than all the guide-books I read up afterwards to give me a realising sense of being in an English university centre. We looked at Mr. Ilorton's pictures, too, and examined, complimentarily, all his decorative effects of wood- carving and old china, doing our duty, as is required of ladies visiting the menage of a young gentleman, with enthusiasm. I was a little disappointed, personally, in not finding the initials of Byron or somebody cut on Mr. Horton's window-sill, and dis- tinctly shocked to hear that this part of Pembroke College had been built within the memory of living man, as Mr. Horton was reluctantly obliged to admit. He apologised for its extreme modemness on the ground of its comparative comfort, but seemed to feel it, in a subdued way, severely, as was eminently proper. Among the various photographs of boat-races upon the wall was one in which Mr. Horton pointed out ' the Torpids,' which I could not help considering and remarking upon as a curious name for a boating-crew. * Why are they 242 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON called that ? ' I asked ; * they seem to be going pretty fast.' * Oh, rather ! ' responded Mr. Horton. ' Upon my word, I don't know. It does seem hard lines, doesn't it ? Symonds, where did these fellows get their name ? ' But Lord Symonds didn't know exactly either — they'd always had it, he fancied ; and Lady Torquilin explained that * this yonng lady ' — meaning me — could never be satisfied with hearing that a thing was so because it was so — she must always know the why and where- fore of everything, even when there was neither why nor 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 honours in Classics. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 243 XXIII Had heard so much from Ecglish sources of the precocity and forwardness of very young people in America, that I was quite prepared to find a com- mendably opposite state of things in England, and I must say that, generally speaking, I was not dis- appointed. The extent to which young 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 or older gent'emen ; 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 Mr. Sanders Horton had been a Harvard Sophomore, and Lord 244 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Symonds's father had made his fortune out of a patent shoe- lace-tag, and we had 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 complexions would probably not have been so fresh, nor j:heir shoulders so broad, and the pencilling on 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 have been so negatively good as they were in Oxford, where they struck me as expressing an 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 Mr. Horton nor Lord Symonds will mind my implying that in Oxford they were nervous. People can't possibly help the way they have been brought up, and to me our host's nervousness was interesting, like his English accent, and the scout and the quad. Personally, I liked the feeling of superinducing bashfulness in two nice boys like those — it was novel and amusing— though I have no doubt they were much more afraid of Lady 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 was not Lady Torquilin's attached slave after twenty minutes' conver- sation with her. She did not humour them, or flatter 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 Mr. 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 AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 245 other one was left for me to talk to, which was usually dis- 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 Mr. Horton at one end with the cold joint, and Lord Symonds at the other with the fowl. It began, I remember, with bouillon. Lady Torquilin partook of bouillon, 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 bouillon 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 explain- 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 bouillon. Under the circumstances, it was impossible for me to put my miud to it. Presently Mr. Horton asked us if he might give us some salmon — not collectively, but individually and properly. Lady Torquillin first; and we said he might. He did not help Lord Symonds, and relapsed 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 mayonnaise. ' I — I beg your pardon,' said Mr. 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 scout had forgotteo the mayonnaise, and that I had been the means of making Mr. Sanders Horton very uncom- fortable indeed. Only one thing occurred to me to say, for which I hope I may be forgiven. 'Yes,' I returned, 'we like it with fish in America.' At which Mr. Horton looked in- terested and relieved. And I ate as much of the mixture as I could with a smile, though the salmon had undergone a vinegar treatment which made this diffi- cult. ' It is in Boston, is it not,' remarked Lord Symonds politely, 'that the people live 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, ap[)arently by mutual consent, refrained from partaking of it, the situation had reached a degree of unreasonableness which was more than Lady Torquilin could endure. ' Do you intend to eat no- thing ? ' she inquired, with the air of one who will accept no prevarications. ' THE RESPECTABLE SCOUT. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 247 * Oh, we'd like to, but we can't,' they replied, earnestly and simultaneously. ' We're still in training, you know,' Lord Symonds went on. ' Fellows have got to train pretty much on stodge.' And at this juncture Mr. Horton solemnly cut two slices of the cold beef, and sent them to his friend, helping himself to the same quantity with mathematical exactness. Then, with plain bread, and gravity which might almost be called severe, they attacked it. Lady Torquilin and I looked at each other reproachfully. This privation struck us as needless and extreme, and it had the uncomfortable moral effect of turning our own repast into a Bacchanalian revel. We frowned, we protested, we besought. We suggested with insidious temptation that this was the last day of the races, and that nobody would know. We commended each particular dish 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 adamant, if adamant could blush. They would not be moved, and at every fresh appeal they concentrated their attention upon their cold beef in a manner which I thought most noble, if a trifle 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 Torquilin 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 me most, but the things that did impress me 17 248 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON most, and these were, at Mr. Sanders Horton's luncheon, the splendid old silver college goblets into which our host poured us lavish bumpers of claret-cup, the moral support of the respect- able scout, and the character and dignity an ideal of duty may possess, even in connection with cold beef. I came into severe contact with an idiom, too, which I shall always associate with 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 you think so?' I said. I was not offended. 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. But 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. " M-a-g-d-a-1-e-n,'" returned Lord Symonds, very good-naturedly. ' Now that you speak of it, it is 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 J AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 249 spelled it triumpliantly. I should like to confront an American spelling-match with ' Magdalen/ though, and about eleven other valuable orthogi-aphical specimens that I am taking care of. In due course we all started for the river, finding our way through quads even greyer and greener and quieter than Exeter, and finally turning into a pretty, wide, tree-bordered highway, 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 Mr. Horton and Lord Syraonds wished to take us on the river before they were obliged to join their respective crews, and met hardly anybody except occasional strolling, loose- garmented undergraduates with very various ribbons on their round straw hats, which they took off with a kind of spasmodic gravity when they happened to know our friends. The tree- 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 warship to a Methodist church in Dakota, and wonderfully painted. These, Mr. Horton 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, leading to the top, and Mr. Horton showed us up, to wait until he and Lord Symonds got out the punt. The word * punting ' was familiar to nie, signifying an aquatic pursuit popular 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 250 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON standard to admire it by. It seemed to me an uninteresting vessel, and I did not like the way it was cut ojff at the ends. The mode of propulsion, too, by which Mr. Horton and Lord Symoiids got us around the river — poking a stick into the mud at the bottom and leaning on it — did not impress me as being dignified enough for anybody in Society. Lord Symonds asked me, as we sat in one end enjoying the sun — you get to like it in England, even on the back of your neck — what I thought of punting. I told him I thought it was immoderately safe. It was the most polite thing I could think of at the spur of the moment. I do not believe punting would ever become popular in America. We are a light-minded people ; we like an element of joyous risk; we are not adapted to punt. The people were beginning to come down upon the barges when we returned from this excursion, and it was thought best that we should take our places. The stream was growing very full, nob only of laborious punts containing three brightly-dressed ladies and one perspiring young man, but of all kinds of craft, some luxuriously overshadowed with flounced awnings, under which young gentlemen with cigarette-attachments reposed, protecting themselves further with Japanese paper umbrellas. The odd part of this was that both they and their umbrellas seemed to be taken by themselves and everybody else quite au serieiix. This, again, would be different in America. Mr. Horton left us with Lord Symonds, who had not to row, he explained 'to us, until later in the day; and presently we saw our host below, with the rest of his bare-legged, mus- cular crew, getting gingerly into the long, narrow outrigger lying alongside. They arranged themselves with great care and precision, and then held their oars, looking earnestly at a little man who sat up very straight in the stern — the cox. He AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 251 was my first cox, for I had never seen a boat-race before, ex- cepting between champions, who do not row with coxes, and 1 was delighted to find how accurately he had been described in the articles we read about English boating — his size, his erect - ness and alertness, and autocratic dignity. At a word from the cox every man turned his head half-way round and back again ; then he said, in the sternest accents I had ever heard, ' Are — you — ready ? ' and in an instant they were off. ' Where are they going ? ' Lady Torquilin asked. ' Oh, for a preliminary spin,' said Lord Syraonds, ' and then for the starting-point.* ' And when do the barges start ? ' I inquired, without having given the matter any kind of consideration. ' The barges ! ' said Lord Symonds, mystified. ' Do you mean these ? They don't start ; they stay here.' ' But can we see the race from here ? ' I asked. ' Beautifully ! They come past.' * Do I understand. Lord Symonds, that the Oxford boat-race takes place out there ? ' ' Certainly,' said he. * Why not ? ' ' Oh, no particular reason,' I returned — * if there is room.' * Rather ! ' the young gentleman explained. ' This is the noble river Isis, Miss Wick.' * It may not be so big as the Mississippi, but it's worthy of your respectful consideration, young lady,' put in Lady Tor- quilin. Thus admonished, I endeavoured to give the noble river Isis ray respectful consideration, but the barges occupied so much space in it that I was still unable to understand how a boat-race of any importance could come between us and the opposite bank without seriously inconveniencing somebody. It did, however, and such was the skill displayed by the 252 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON coxes in charge that nobody was hurt. It came off amid demonstrations of the most extraordinary nature, tin whistles predominating, on the opposite bank, where I saw a genuine bishop capering along with the crowd, waving his hat on his stick. It came off straight and tense and arrowy, cheered to the last stroke. * So near it ! ' said Lord Symonds, after shouting * Well rowed, Pembroke ! ' until he could shout no longer. * Near what ? ' I asked. * A bump,' said he, sadly ; ' but it was jolly well rowed ! ' and for the moment I felt that no earthly achievement could compare with the making of bumps. Such excitement I never eaw, among the Dons on the barges — my first Dons, too, but they differed very much; I could not generalise about them — among their wives, who seemed unaggressive, youngish ladies, as a rule, in rather subdued gowns ; among the gay people down from ' Town,' among the college men, incorrigibly uproarious ; among that considerable body of society that adds so little to the brilliance of such an occasion but contributes so largely to its noise. And after it was over a number of exuberant young men on the other side plunged into the noble river Isis and crossed it with a faw well- placed strides, and possibly two strokes. None of them were drowned. After that we had a joyous half-hour in the apartments, at Exeter, of Mr. Bertie Corke, whose brown eyes had Peter's very twinkle in them, and who became established in our affec- tions at once upon that account. Mr. Corke was one of the Exeter Eight, and he looked reproachfully at us when we inadvertently stated that we had lingered to congratulate Pem- broke. A GENUINE BISHOP. 254 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON * Pembroke got a bump, you know, yesterday,' I remarked, proud of the technicality. ' Yes,' returned Mr. Bertie Corke, ruefully, ' bumped us^ This was an unfortunate beginning, but it did not mar our subsequent relations with Miss Peter Corke's brother, which were of the pleasantest description. He told us on the way down once more to the noble river Isis the names of all those delightful elderly stone images that had themselves put over the college doors centuries ago, when they were built, and he got almost as many interiors into half an hour as his sister could. He explained to us, too, how, by the rules of the Uni- versity, he was not allowed to play marbles on the college steps, or to wear clothes of other than an * obfusc hue,' which was exactly the kind of thing that Peter would tell you — and expect you to remember. He informed us, too, that according to the pure usage of Oxonian English he was a * Fresher,' the man we had just passed being an unattached student, a * tosher,* probably walking for what in the vulgar tongue might be called exercise, but here was ' ekker.' In many ways he was like Peter, and he objected just as much to my abuse of the English climate. The second race was very like the first, with more enthu- siasm. I have a little folding card with ' The Eights, May 22 to 28, 1890,' and the names of the colleges in the order of starting, printed in blue letters on the inside. The ' order of finish ' from ' B. N. C to ' St. Edm. Hall ' is in Jilr- Bertie Corke's handwriting. I'm not a sentimentalist, but I liked the Eights, and I mean to keep this souvenir. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 255 XXIV HE records of my ex- periences in London would be very incom- plete without another chapter devoted to those Miss Peter Corke arranged for me. Indeed, I would need the license of many chapters to ex- plain at any length how generously Miss Corke fulfilled to me the offices of guide, philosopher, and friend ; how she rounded out my days with counsel, and was in all of them a personal blessing. Dispensing information was a habit which Peter Corke incorrigibly established — one of the things she could not help. I believe an important reason why she liked me was because I gave her such unlimited opportunities for indulging it, and she said I simulated gratitude fairly well. For my own part, I always liked it, whether it was at the expense of my accent or my idioms, my manners or my morals, my social theories or my general education, and encouraged her in it. I was pleased with 256 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON the idea that she found me interesting enough to make it worth while, for one thing, and then it helped my understanding of the lady herself better than anything else would have done. And many voyages and large expense might go into the balance against an acquaintance with Peter Corke. Miss Corke was more ardently attached to the Past than any- body I have ever known or heard of that did not live in it. Her interest did not demand any great degree of antiquity, though it increased in direct ratio with the centuries ; the mere fact that a thing was over and done with, laid on the shelf, or getting mossy and forgotten, was enough to secure her respectful con- sideration. She liked old folios and prints — it was her pastime to poke in the dust of ages ; I've seen her placidly enjoying a graveyard — with no recent interments — for half an hour at a time. She had a fine scorn of the Present in all its forms and phases. If I heard her speak with appreciation of anybody with whose reputation I was unacquainted, I generally found it safe to ask, intelligently, * When did he die ? * She always knew exactly, and who attended the funeral, and what became of the children, and whether the widow got an annuity from the Government or not. being usually of the opinion that the widow should have had the annuity. Of course, it w^s Miss Corke who took me down into Fleet Street to see where Dr. Johnson used to live. I did not hear the name of Dr. Johnson from another soul in London during the whole of my visit. My friend bore down through the Strand, and past that mediaeval griffin where Temple Bar was, that claws the air in protection of your placid Prince in a frock- coat underneath — stopping here a.n instant for anathema — and on into the crook of Fleet Street, under St. Paul's, with all the pure delight of an enthusiastic cicerone in her face. I think AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 257 Peter loved the Strand and Fleet Street almost as well as Dr. Johnson did, and she always wore direct descendants of the seven-league boots. This was sometimes a little trying for mine, which had no pedigree, though, in other respects ; but I must not be led into the statement that shoemaking is not scientific- ally apprehended in this country. 1 have never yet been able to get anybody to believe it. * This,' said Miss Corke, as we emerged from a dark little alley occupied by two unmuzzled small boys and a dog into a dingy rectangle, where the London light came down upon un- blinking rows of windows in walls of all colours that get the worse for wear — ' this is Gough Court. Dr. Johnson lived here until the death of his wife. You remember that he had a wife, and she died ? ' ^ I have not the least doubt of it,' I replied. ' I've no patience with you ! ' cried Miss Corke, fervently. * Well, when she died he was that disconsolate, in spite of his dictionaries, that he couldn't bear it here any longer, and moved away.' ' I don't think that was remarkable,' I said, looking round ; to which Miss Corke replied that it was a fine place in those days, and Johnson paid so many pounds, shillings, and pence rent for it every Lady Day. ' I am waiting,' she said, with ironical resignation, ' for you to ask me which house.' ' Oh ! ' said L ' Which house ? ' *That yellowish one, at the end, idjifcl' said Peter, with exasperation. ' Now, if you please, we'll go ! ' I took one long and thoughtful look at the yellowish house at the end, and tried to imagine the compilation of lexicons inside its walls about the year 1748, and turned away feeling that I had done all within my personal ability for the memory of Dr. 258 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Johnson. Mips Corke, however, was not of that opinion. ' He moved to Johnson's Court somewhat later/ she said, * which you must be careful to remember was not named from him. We'll just go there now.' ' Is it far ? ' I asked ; * because there must be other celebri- ties ' ' 'Far !' repeated Miss Corke, with a withering accent ; ' not ten minutes' walk ! Do the trams run everywhere in America? There may be other celebrities — London is a good place for them — but there's only one Samuel Johnson.' We went through various crooked ways to Johnson's Court, Miss Corke explaining and reviling at every step. ' We hear^ she remarked with fine scorn, ' of intelligent Americans who come over here and apply themselves diligently to learn London ! And I've never met a citizen of you yet,' she went on, ignoring my threatening parasol, ' that was not quite satisfied at seeing one of Johnson's houses — houses he lived in ! You are a nation of tasters, Miss Mamie Wick of Chicago ! ' At which I declared myself, for the honour of the Stars and Stripes, willing to swallow any quantity of Dr. Johnson, and we turned into a little paved parallelogram seven times more desolate than the first. Its prevailing idea was soot, relieved by scraps of blackened ivy that twisted along some of the window-sills. I once noticed very clever ivy decorations in iron upon a London balcony, and always afterwards found some difficulty in deciding between that and the natural vine, unless the wind blew. And 1 would not like to commit myself about the ivy that grew in Johnson's Court. * Dear me ! ' said I ; ' so he lived here, too ! ' I do not transcribe this remark because it struck me as particularly clever, but because it seems to me to be the kind of thing any- body might have said without exciting indignation. But Peter AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 259 immediately began to fulminate again. ' Yes,' she said, * he lived here too, miss, at No. 7, as you don't appear to care to know. A little intelligent curiosity,' she continued, ap- parently appealing to the Samuel Johnson chimneys, ' would be gratifying ! ' We walked around these precincts several times, while Miss Corke told me interesting stories that reminded me of Collier's ' English Literature ' at school, and asked me if by any chance I had ever heard of Boswell. I loved to find myself knowing something occasionally, just to annoy Peter, and when I said certainly, he was the man to whom Dr. Johnson owed his repu- tation, it had quite the usual effect. ' We shall now go to Bolt Court,' said my friend, ' where Samuel spent the last of his days, surrounded by a lot of old ladies that I don't see how he ever put up with, and from which he was carried to Westminster Abbey in 1784. Hadn't you better put that down ? ' Now Peter Corke would never have permitted me to call Dr. Johnson ' Samuel.' I looked round Johnson's Court with lingering affection, and hung back. 'There is something about this place,* I said, ' some occult attraction, that makes me hate to leave it. I believe, Peter, that the Past, under your influence, is beginning to affect me properly. I dislike the thought of remaining for any length of time out of reach, as it were, of the memory of Dr. Johnson,' Peter looked at me suspiciously. ' He lived at Bolt Court as well,' she said. ' Nowhere between here and there ? ' I asked. ' No friend's house, for instance, where he often spent the night ? Where did that lady live who used to give him nineteen cups of tea at 26o AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON a sitting ? Couldn't we pause and refresh ourselves by looking at her portals on the way ? * * Transatlantic impertinence,' cried Miss Corke, leading the way out, * is more than I can bear ! ' ' But,' I said, still hanging back, ' about how far ? ' When my dear friend gave vent to the little squeal with which she received this, I knew that her feelings were worked up to a point where it was dangerous to tamper with them, so I sub- mitted to Bolt Court, walking with humility all the way. When we finally arrived I could see no intrinsic difference 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. Johnson's domestic tastes must have undergone singularly little altera- tion. *He went from here to Westminster Abbey, I think you said,' I remarked, respectfully, to Peter. ' In 1784,' said Peter, who is a stickler for dates. * And has not moved since ! ' I added, with some anxiety, just to aggravate Peter, who was duly aggravated. ' Well,' I responded, ' we saw Westminster Abbey, you remember. And I took particular notice of the monument to Dr. Johnson. We needn't go ihere.^ * It's in St. Paul's ! ' said Peter, in a manner which wounded me, for if there is an unpleasant thing it is to be disbelieved. ' And which house did Dr. Johnson live in here ? ' I inquired. ' Come,' said Peter, solemnly, ' and I'll show you.' * It has been lost to posterity,' she continued, with depres- sion — ' burnt in 1819. But we have the site — there ! ' *0h!' I replied. 'We have the site. That is— that is AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 261 something, I suppose. But I don't find it very stimulating to the imagination.' ' You haven't any ! ' remarked Miss Corke, with vehemence ; and I have no doubt she had reason to think so. As a matter of fact, however, the name of Samuel Johnson is not a household word in Chicago. We don't govern our letter-writing by his Dictionary, and as to the ' Tatler ' and the ' Rambler,' it is impossible for people living in the United States to read up the back numbers of even their own magazines. It is true that we have no excuse for not knowing ' Rasselas,' but I've noticed that at home hardly any of the English classics have much chance against Rider Haggard, and now that Rudyard Kipling has arisen it will be worse still for elderly respectable authors like Dr. Johnson. So that while I was deeply interested to know that the great lexicographer had hallowed such a con- siderable part of London with his residence, I must confess, to be candid, that I would have been satisfied with fewer of his architectural remains. I could have done, for instance, without the site, though I dare say, as Peter says, they were all good for me. Before I reached Lady Torquilin's flat again that day, Peter showed me the particular window in Wine Office Court where dear little Goldsmith sat deploring the bailiff and the landlady when Dr. Johnson took the ' Vicar ' away and sold it for sixty pounds- -that delightful old fairy godfather whom everybody knows so much better than as the author of ' Rasselas.' And the ' Cheshire Cheese,' on the other side of the way, that quaintest of low-windowed taverns, 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 inquire about the pudding, and when we might come down and have 262 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON some ; but Peter said it was not proper for ladies, and hurried me on. As if an}'^ impropriety could linger about a place a hundred and fifty years old ! The Temple also we saw that day, and Goldsmith's 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 Westminster. Miss Peter Corke was entirely delight- ful in the Temple, whether she talked of Goldsmith's games and dancing over Blackstone's sedate head in Brick Court, or of Elizabeth sitting on the wide platform at the end of the Middle Temple Hall at the first performance of ' Twelfth Night,' where, somewhere beneath those dusky oak rafters, Shakespeare made another critic. Peter never talked scandal in the present tense, on principle, but a more interesting gossip than she was of a century back I never had a cup of tea with, which we got not so very far from the Cock Tavern in Fleet Street ; and I had never known before that Mr. Pepys was a flirt. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 263 XXV R. MAFFERTON frequently expressed his regret that al- most immediately after my arrival in London — in fact, during the time of my dis- appearance from the Metro- pole, and just as he became aware of my being with Lady Torquilin — his mother and two sisters had been obliged to go to the Riviera on ac- count of one of the Misses MafTerton's health. One afternoon — the day before they left, I believe — Lady Torquilin and I, coming in. found a large assortment of cards belonging to the family, which were to be divided between us, apparently. But, as Mr. Charles Mafferton was the only one of them left in town, my acquaint- ance with the MafFertons had made very little progress, except, of course, with the portly old cousin I have mentioned before, who was a lord, and who stayed in London through the entire session of Parliament. This cousin and I became so well ac- quainted, in spite of his being a lord, that we used to ask each other conundrums. ' What do they call a black cat in London?' was a favourite one of his. But I had the advantage of Lord 18 264 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON MafFert^n here, for he always forgot that he had asked the same conundrum the last time we met, and thought me tremendously clever when I answered, ' Puss, puss ! ' But, as I have said before, there were very few particulars in which this nobleman gratified my inherited idea of what a lord ought to be. One of the Misses Mafferton — the one who enjoyed good health — had very kindly taken the trouble to write to me from the Riviera a nice friendly letter, saying how sorry they all were that we did not meet before they left Town, and asking me to make them a visit as soon as they returned in June. The letter went on to say that they had shared their brother's anxiety about me for some time, but felt quite comfortable in the thought of leaving me so happily situated with Lady Torqnilin, an old friend of their own, and was it not singular ? Miss Mafferton exclaimed, in her pointed handwriting, signing herself mine ever affectionately, E. F. Mafferton. I thought it was certainly singularly nice of her to write to me like that, a perfect stranger; and while T composed an answer in the most cordial terms I could, I thought of all I had heard about the hearty hospitality of the English — ' when once you know them.' When I told Mr. Mafferton I had heard from his sister, and how much pleasure the letter had given me, he blushed in the most violent and unaccountable manner, but seemed pleased nevertheless. It was odd to see Mr. 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 Mr. Mafferton, and was glad when he said he had no doubt Eleanor and I would be great friends, and changed the subject. But it was about this time that another invitation from relatives of Mr. Mafferton's living in Berkshire gave me my one always- to-be -remembered experience of the country in England. Lady AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON . 25$ Torquilin was invited too, but the invitation was for a Tuesday and Wednesday particularly full of engagements for her. * Couldn't we write and say we'd rather come next week ? * I suggested. Lady Torquilin looked severely horrified. ^ I should think not\' she replied. * You're not in America, child. I hardly know these people at all ; moreover, it's you they want to see, and not me in the least. So I'll just send my apologies, and tell Mrs. Stacy you're an able-bodied young woman who gets about wonderfully by herself, and that she may expect you by the train she proposes — and see that you don't outstay your invita- tion, young lady, or I shall be in a fidget ! ' And Lady Torquilin gave me her cheek to kiss, and went away and wrote to Mrs. Stacy as she had said. An hour or two beyond London the parallel tracks of the main line stretched away in the wrong direction for me, and my train sped down them, leaving me for a few minutes undecided how to proceed. The little station seemed to have nothing whatever to do with anything but the main line. It sat there in the sun and cultivated its flower-beds, and waited for the big trains to come thundering by, and had no concern but that. Presently, however, I observed, standing all by itself beside a row of tulips under a clay bank on the other side of the bridge, the most diminutive thing in railway trans- port I had ever seen. It was quite complete, engine and cab, and luggage-van and all, with its passenger accommodation pro- perly divided into first, second, and third class, and it stood there placidly, apparently waiting for somebody. And I followed my luggage over the bridge with the quiet conviction that this was the train for Pinbury, and that it was waiting for mo. 266 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON There was nobody else. And after the porter liad stowed my effects carefully away in the van he also departed, leaving the Pin- bury train in my charge. I sat in it for a while and admired the tulips, and wondered how soon it would rain, and fixed my veil, and looked over the ' Daily Graphic' again, but nothing hap- ])nnecl. It occurred to me that possibly the little Pinbury train had been forgotten, and I got out. There was no one on the platform, but just outside the station I saw a rusty old coachman sealed on the box of an open landau, so I spoke to him. 'Does tliat train go to Pinbury?' I asked. He said it did. ' Does it go to-day?' I inquired further. He looked amused at my ignorance. ' Oh yes, lady,' he replied ; ' she goes every day — twice. But she 'as to wait for two hup trains yet. She'll be hoff in about 'alf an hour now ! ' — this reassuringly. When we did start it took us exactly six minutes to get to Pinbury, and I was sorry I had nqt tipped the engine-driver and got him to run down with me and back again while he was waiting. Wliatever they may say to the contrary, there are few things in England that please Americans more than the omni- potence of the tip. Two of the Stacy young ladies met me on the Pinbury plat- form, and* gave me quite the most charming welcome I have had in England. With, the exception of Peter Corke— and Peter would be exceptional anywhere — I had nearly always failed to reach any sympathetic relation with the young ladies I had come in contact with in London. Perhaps this was be- cause I did not see any of them very often or very long together, and seldom without the presence of some middle-aged lady who controlled the conversation ; but the occasions of my meeting with the London girl had never sufficed to overcome the natural curiosiry with which she usually regarded me. I rejoiced when 268 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON I saw that it would be different witli Miss Stacy and Miss' Dorothy Stacy, and probably with the other Misses Stacy at home. They regarded me with outspoken iut;erestj but not at all with fear. They were very polite, but their politeness was of the gay, unconscious sort, which only impresses you when you think of it afterwards. Delightfully pretty, though lacking that supreme inertia of expression that struck me so often as the finishing touch upon London beauty, and gracefully tall, without that impressiveness of development 1 had observed in town. Miss Dorothy Stacy's personality gave me quite a new pleasure. It was invested in round pink cheeks and clear grey eyes, among other things that made it most agreeable to look at her ; and yellow hair that went rippling down her back ; and the perfect freshness and unconsciousness of her beauty, with her height and her gentle muscularity, reminded one of an immature goddess of Oljmpia, if sudh a person could be imagined growing up. Miss Dorothy Stacy was sixteen past, and in a later moment of confidence she told me that she lived in dread of being obliged to turn up her hair and wear irretrievably long * frocks.* I found this unreasonable, but charming. In America all joys are grown up, and the brief period of pinafores is one of probation. We drove away in a little brown dogcart behind a little brown pony into the English country, talking a great deal. Miss Stacy drove, and I sat beside her, while Miss Dorothy Stacy occupied the seat in the rear when she was not alighting in the middle of the road to pick up the Pinbury commissions, which did not travel well, or the pony's foot, to see if he had a stone in it. The pony objected with mild viciousness to having his foot picked up ; but Miss Dorothy did not take his views into account at all ; up came the foot and out came the stone. The AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 269 average American girl would have driven helplessly along until she overtook a man, I think. I never saw a finer quality of mercy anywhere than the Stacy young ladies exhibited toward their beast. When we came to a rising bit of road Miss Dorothy invariably leaped down and walked as well as the pony, to save him fatigue ; when a slight declivity presented itself he walked again solemnly to the bottom, occasionally being led. He expected this attention always at such times, pausing at the top and looking round for it, and when it was withheld his hind-quarters assumed an aggrieved air of irresponsibility. When Miss Stacy wished to increase his rate of going by a decimal point, she flicked him gently, selecting a spot where communication might be made with his brain at least inconvenience to himself; but she never did any- thing that would really interfere with his enjoyment of the drive. Of course, Miss Stacy wanted to know what I thought of England in a large general way, but before I had time to do more than mention a few heads under which I had gathered my impressions she particularised with reference to the scenery. Miss Stacy asked me what I thought of English scenery, with a sweet and ladylike confidence, including most of what we were driving through, with a graceful flourish of her whip. She said I might as well confess that we hadn't such nice scenery in America. ' Grander, you know — more mountains and lakes and things,' said Miss Stac}^, * but not realhj so nice, now, have you ? ' No, I said ; unfortunately it was about the only thing we couldn't manage to take back with us ; at which Miss Stacy astonished me with the fact that she knew I was going to be a treat to her — so original — and I must be simply craving my tea, and it was good of me to come, and flicked the pony severely, so that he trotted for almost half a mile without a pause. 270 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON But we returned to the scenery, for I did not wish to be thought unappreciative, and the Misses Sf acy were good enough to be interested in the points that I found particularly novel and pleasing — the flowering hedges that leaned up against the fields by the wayside, and the quantities of little birds that chirruped in and out of them, and the trees, all twisted round with ivy, and especially the rabbits, that bobbed about in the meadows and turned up their little white tails with as much naivete as if the world were a kitchen-garden closed to the public. The ' bunnies,' as Miss Dorothy Stacy called them, were a source of continual delight to me. I could never refrain from exclaiming, ' There's another ! ' much to the young ladies' amusement. ' You see,' explained Miss Dorothy in apology, ' they're not new to us, the dear sweet things ! One might say one has been brought up with them, one knows all their little ways. But they are loves, and it is nice of you to like them.' The pony stopped altogether on one little rise, as if he wert^ accustomed to it, to allow us to take a side-look across the grey-green fields to where they lost themselves in the blue dis- tance, in an effort to climb. It was a lovely landscape, full of pleasant thoughts, ideally still and gently conscious. There was the glint of a river in it, white in the sun, with twisting lines of round-headed willows marking which way 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 k AY AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 271 the comers of the fields, cows, horses, crows. All as if it had been painted bj a tenderly conscientious artist, who economised his carmines and allowed himself no caprices except in the tattered hedge, full of May, in the foreground ; all as if Nature had understood a woman's chief duty to be tidy and delectable, except for this ragged hem of her embroidered petticoat. I dare say it would not seem so to you ; but the country as I had known it in America had been an expanse of glowing colour, diversified by a striking pattern of snake-fences, relieved by woods that nobody had ever planted, and adorned by the bare, commanding brick residences of the agricultural population. Consequently, delightful as I found this glimpse of English scenery, I could not combat the idea that it had all been care- fully and beautifully made, and was usually kept under cotton- wool. You would understand this if you knew the important part played in our rural districts by the American stump. ' Isn't it lovely?' asked Miss Stacy, with enthusiasm. Two cows in the middle distance suddenly disappeared behind a hay- rick, and for a moment the values of the landscape became con- fused. Still, 1 was able to say that it was lovely, and so neat — which opinion I was obliged to explain to Miss Stacy, as I have to you, while the brown pony took us thoughtfully on. 272 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XXVI DROVE in at the gates of Hallington House as one might drive into the scene of a dear old dream — a dream that one has half- believed and half-doubted, and wholly 'l^^'^t-' loved, and dreamed again all one's life long. There it stood, as I had always wondered if I might not see it standing in that far day when I should go to England, behind its high brick wall, in the midst of its ivies and laburnums and elms and laurel-bushes, looking across where its lawns dipped into its river at soft green meadows sloping to the west — a plain old solid grey stone English country-house so long occupied with the birthdays of other people that it had quite forgotten its own. Very big and very solid, without any pretentiousness of Mansard roof, or bow window, or balcony, or verandah ; its simple story of strength and shelter and home and hospitality was plain to me between its wide-open gates and its wide-open doors, and I loved it from that moment. It was the same all through — the Stacys realised the England of my imagination to me most sweetly and completely ; I found, A.V AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 273 that there had been no mistake. Mrs. Stacy realised it, pretty and fresh and fair at fifty, plump and motherly in her black cashmere and lace, full of pleasant greetings and responsible inquiries. So did the Squire, coming out of his study to ask, with courteous old-fashioned solicitude, how I had borne the fatigue of the journey — such a delightful old Squire, leftover by accident from the last century, with his high-bred phraseology and simple dignity and great friendliness. So did the rest of the Stacy daughters, clustering round their parents and their guest and the teapot, talking gaily with their rounded English accent of all manner of things — the South Kensington Museum, the Pinbury commissions, the prospects for tennis. Presently I found myself taken through just such narrow cor ridors and down just such unexpected steps as I would have hoped for, to my room, and left there. I remember how a soft wind came puffing in at the little low, tiny-paned window flung back on its hinges, swelling out the muslin curtains and bring- ing with it the sweetest sound I heard in England — a cry that was quite new and strange, and yet came into me from the quiet hedges of the nestling world outside, as I sat there bewitched by it, with a plaintive familiarity — ' 07/ckoo !'...' Cuckoo ! ' I must have heard it and loved it years ago, when the Wicks lived in England, through the ears of my ancestors. Then I discovered that the room was full of a dainty scent that I had not known before, and traced it to multitudinous little round flower-bunches, palest yellow and palest green, that stood about in 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 English sun. Ah, the charm of it! It is almost worth while being brought up in Chicago to come fresh to cuckoos and cowslips, and learn their 274 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON sweet meaning wlien 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, jind the climate of Illinois. We have no cowslips in Chicago, and no cuckoos; and the cable cars do not seem altogether to make up for them. I couldn't help wishing, as I leaned through my low little window into the fragrant peace outside, that Nature had taken a little more time with America. * Cwckoo ! ' from the hedge again ! I could not go till the answer came from the toppling elm-bonghs in the field corner, ' Cifcckoo ! ' And in another minute, if I listened, I should hear -, .... ^ X.KJl.^.-.V>V», it agam. Down below, in the meantime, out came two tid}^ httle maids in cap and apron, 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 duchess of Chicago, but without success. Her local interest could never be sufficiently depended upon, for one thing. Marguerite might plant, and Irene might water, but Arabella Maud would cer- tainly gather the fruits of their labour, if she kept her place long enough. And I doubt if the social duties of any of these ladies would leave them time for such idylls. * Ci^tikoo ! ' The bird caught it from the piping of the very first lover's very first love-dream. How well he must have listened ! . . . ' Owckoo ! ' I bade Miss Dorothy Stacy coriae in when I heard her knock and voice ; and she seemed to bring with her, in her innocent strength and youth and pinkness, a very fair and harmonious AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 275 counterpart of the cowslips and the cackoos. She came to know if 1 wasn't comingr down to tea. ' Listen ! ' I said, as the sweet ! !^;-.6i I ) I f lll^^^^^J iMiiS' 19 N 'A 'Xh TWO TIDY LITTLE MAIDS.' cry came again. ' i was waiting till he had finished.' It was better than no excuse at all. 276 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON * I think I can show you from here where I suspect they have stolen a nest, lazy things ! ' answered Miss Dorothy, sympatheti- cally, and she slipped her arm round ray waist as we looked out of the window together in the suspected direction. * Then you don't find them tiresome ? Some people do, you know.' * No,' I said, ' I don't.' And then Miss Dorothy confided to me that she was very glad ; ' for, you know,' she said, ' one canH like people who find cuckoos tiresome,' and we concluded that we really must go down to tea. At that point, however, I was obliged to ask 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 Atlantic, didn't you ? ' the third Miss Stacy remarked, enthusiastically, over the teapot. ^ How delightfully romantic to make a— a friend — a friend like that, I mean, on a ship in the middle of the ocean ! Didn't you always feel perfectly comfortable after- wards, as if, no matter what happened, he would be sure to save you?' * Kitty ! ' said Mrs. Stacy from the sofa, in a tone of helpless rebuke. ^ Mother, darling ! ' said Kitty, ' I do beg your pardon ! Your daughter always speaks first and thinks afterwards, doesn't she, sweetest mother! But you must have had that feeling,' Miss Stacy continued to me ; 'I know you had ! ' ^ Oh, no ! ' I returned. It was rather an awkward situation — I had no wish to disparage Miss Stacy's cousin's heroism, which, nevertheless, I had not relied upon in the least. 'I don't think I thought about being drowned,' I said. ' That proves it ! ' she cried in triumph. ' Your confidence was so perfect that it was unconscious ! Sweetest mother — there, I won't say another word ; not another syllable, mother AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 277 mine, shall pass your daughter's lips! But one d>oes like to show one's self in the right, doesn't one. Miss Wick?' — and Mrs. Stacy surrendered to an impulsive volume of embraces which descended from behind the sofa, chiefly upon the back of her neck. How pleasant it was, that five o'clock tea-drinking in the old- fashioned drawing-room, with the jessamine nodding in at the window and all the family cats gathered upon the hearthrug — five in number, with one kitten. The Stacy's compromise in the perpetually-recurring problem of new kittens was to keep only the representative of a single generation for family affec- tion and drawing-room privileges. The rest were obscurely brought up in the stables and located as early as was en- tirely humane with respectable cottagers, or darkly spoken of as ' kitchen cats.' There had been only one break in the line of posterity that gravely licked itself on the rug, or besought small favours rubbingly with purrs — made by a certain Satanella, who aie her hittens ! and suffered banishment in consequence. But this was confided to me in undertones by the second Miss Stacy, who begged me not to mention the matter to Dorothy. * We don't talk about it often, for Satanella was her cat, you know, and she can't get over her behaving so dreadfully.' Each 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 ; but none bore so dj,rk a blot as covered the memory of Satanella. Perhaps it is partly owing to my own fondness for pussies, but ever since I made the acquaintance of the Stacys I must confess to disparaging a family with no cats in it. It was naturally Dorothy who took me out to see the 278 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON garden — sweet, shy Dorothy, who seemed so completely to have grown in a garden that Lad}^ Torquilin, when she brought her pink cheeks afterwards to gladden tJie llat in Cadogan Mansions, dubbed her ' the Wild Rose ' at once. At any rate, Dorothy had always lived just here beside her garden, and never anywhere else, for she told me so in explaining her affec- tion for it. I thought of the number of times we had moved in Chicago, and sighed. It was not a very methodical garden, Dorothy remarked in apology — the dear sweet things mostly came up of their own accord year after year, and the only ambition Peter entertained towards it was to keep it reasonably weeded. A turn in the walk disclosed Peter at the moment with a wheelbarrow — the factotum of garden and stable, a solemn bumpkin of twenty, with a large red face and a demeanour of extreme lethargy. His countenance broke into something like a deferential grin as he passed us. ' Can you make him understand ? ' I asked Miss Dorothy. ^ Oh, I should think so ! ' she replied. ' He is very intelligent ! ' From his appearance I should not have said so. There was nothing ' sharp,' as we say in America, about Peter, though afterwards I heard him whistling ' Two lovely black eyes' with a volume of vigorous expression that made one charge him 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 lay in the middle in the sun ; the house broke into a warmly-tinted gable, red-roofed and plastered and quaint, that 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 279 shut it in from the lawns and the drive and any eyes that might not fall upon it tenderly. We sat down upon the garden-seat that somebody had built round the elm, Dorothy and I, and I looked at the garden as one turns the pages of an old story- book. There were the daisies in the grass, to begin with, all over, by hundreds and thousands, turning their bright little white-and-yellow faces up at me and saying something — I don't know quite what. I should have had to listen a long time to be sure it was anything but ' Don't step on me ! ' but I had a vague feeling that every now and then one said, ' Can't you remember?' Dorothy remarked it was really disgraceful, so many of them, and Peter should certainly mow them all down in the morning — by which her pretty lips gave me a keen pang. * Oh ! ' I said, ' what a pity ! ' ' Yes,' she said, relentingly, * they are dear things, but they're very untidy. The worst of Peter is,' she went on, with a shade of reflection, ' that we are obliged to keep at him.' I dare say you don't think much of daisies in the grass — you have always had so many. You should have been brought up on dandelions instead — in Chicago ! Then there were all the sweet spring English flowers grow- ing in little companies under the warm brick wall — violets and pansies and yellow daffodils, and in one corner a tall, brave array of anemones, red and purple and white. And against the wall rose-bushes and an ancient fig-tree ; and farther on, all massed and tangled in its own dark-green shadows, the ivy, pouring out its abundant heart to drape and soften the other angle, and catch the golden rain of the laburnum that hung over. And this English Dorothy, with her yellow hair and young-eyed innocence, the essence and the flower of it all. 19 28o AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON Near the stables, in our roundabout ramble to the kitchen- garden, Dorothy showed me, with seriousness, a secluded corner, holding two small mounds and two small wooden tablets. On one the head of a spaniel was carved painstakingly and painted, with the inscription, ' Here Lies a Friend.' The second tablet had no bas-relief and a briefer legend : ' Here Lies Another.' ' Jack,' said she, with a shade of retrospection, ' and Jingo. Jack died in — let me see — eighteen eighty-five. Jingo two years later, in eighteen eighty-seven. I didn't do Jingo's picture,' Miss Dorothy went on, pensively. ' It wasn't really necessary, they were so very much alike.' About the kitchen-garden I remember only how rampant the gooseberry-bushes were, how portentous the cabbages, and how the whole Vegetable Kingdom combined failed to keep out a trailing company of early pink roses that had wandered in from politer regions to watch th^ last of the sunset across the river and beyond the fields. ' I have a letter to send,' said Miss Dorothy, ' and as we go to the post-office you shall see Hallington.' So we went through the gates that closed upon this dear inner world into the wind- ing road. It led us past ' The Green Lion,' amiably couchant upon a creaking sign that swung from a yellow cottage, past a cluster of little houses with great brooding roofs of straw, past the village school, in a somewhat bigger cottage, in one end whereof the schoolmistress dwelt and looked out upon her lavender and rue, to the post-office at the top of the hill, where the little woman inside, in a round frilled cap and spectacles, and her shawl pinned tidily across her breast, sold buttons and thread, and ' sweeties ' and giuger ale, and other things. My eye lighted with surprise upon a row of very familiar wedge- ehaped tins, all blue and red. They contained corned beef, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 281 and they came from Chicago. ' I know the gentleman who puts those up very well,' I said to Miss Dorothy Stacy ; ' Mr. W. P. Hitt, of Chicago. He is a great friend of poppa's. ' Really ! ' said she, with slight embarrassment. ' Does he — does he do it himself? How clever of him ! ' On the way back through the village of Hallington we met several stolid little girls by ones and twos and threes, and every little girl, as we approached, suddenly lowered her person and her petticoats by about six inches and brought it up again in a perfectly straight line, and without any change of expression whatever. It seemed to me a singular and most amusing demonstration, and Miss Dorothy explained that it was a curt- sey — a very proper mark of respect. 'But surely,' she said, ' your little cottager girls in America curtsey to the ladies and gentlemen they meet ! ' And Miss Dorothy found it difficult to understand just why the curtsey was not a popular genuflection in America, even if we had any little cottager girls to practise it, which I did not think we had, exactly. Later on we gathered round a fire, with the cats, under the quaint old portraits of very straight-backed dead-and-gone ladies Stacy in the drawing-room, and 1 told all I 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 they 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON and the Stacys, when they thought of this, became more cheerful. Further on, the Squire handed me a silver candlestick at the foot of the stairs with the courtliness of three generations past; and as I went to bed by candle-light for the first time in my life, I MISS DOROTHY EXPLAINED THAT IT WAS A CURTSEY.' wondered whether I would not suddenly arrive, like this, at the end of a chapter, and find that I had just been reading one of Rhoda Broughton's novels. But in the morning it came in at the window with the scent of the lilacs, and I undoubtedly heard it again — ' Cuckoo !'...' Ot^ckoo ! ' AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 283 XXYII * TTAVEN'T you some letters, child, to your Ambassador, or _L_L whatever he is, here in London ? ' asked Lady Torquilin one morning. ' Why, yes,' I said, * I have. I'd forgotten about them. He is quite an old friend of poppa's — in a political way ; but poppa advised me not to bother him so long as I wasn't in any difficulty — he must have such lots of Americans coming over here for the summer and fussing round every year, you know. And I haven't been.' * Well, you must now,' declared Lady 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 I should put in an appear- ance again. Besides, the Maffertons wish it.' * The Maffertons wish it ? ' I said. ' Dear me ! I consider that extremely kind. I suppose they think I would enjoy it very much. And I dare say I should.* * Lady Mafferton and I talked it over yesterday,' liady 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 being an American, by your American man's wife. Indeed, I dare say it's obligatory. So we must see about it.' And Lady Torquilin and Lady Mafferton, with very little assistance from me, saw about it. In the moment that succeeded the slight shock of the novel 284 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON idea, I found a certain delirium in contemplating it that I could not explain by any of the theories I had been brought up upon. It took entire possession of me — I could not reason it away. Even in reading my home letters, which usually abstracted mo altogether for the time, I saw it fluttering round the corners of tl 6 pages. ' What would they say,' I thought, * if they knew I was going to be presented to the Queen — their daughter, Mamie Wick, of Illinois ? ' Would they consider that I had com- promised the strict Republican principles of the family, and reprobate the proceeding ! The idea gave me a momentary con- science-chill, which soon passed off, however, under the agreeable recollection of poppa's having once said that he considered Her Majesty a very fine woman, and for his part he would be proud to be introduced to her. After all, being presented was only a way of being introduced to her — the way they do it in England. I felt pretty sure the family principles could stand that much. As a matter of fact, you know, very few Americans have any personal objection to royalty. And I dismissed the idea, abandoning myself to the joy of preparation, which Lady Tur- quilin decreed should begin the very 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 week ? — we planned so many other things for this one ! ' ' Child, child,' returned Lady Torquilin, impressively, * in the coming fortnight we have barely time ! You must know that we don't do things by steam and electricity in this country. You can't go to Court by pressing a button. We haven't a 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 28c " ' WHOEVER HEARD OF ATTENDING ONE OF HER MAJESTY'S DRAWING-ROOMS IN A FROCK MADE IN NEW YORK 1 " ' 286 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON seventh time I had my Court dress tried on, I became con- vinced that Lady Torquilin was right. You do nothing by steam and electricity in this country. I found that it took ten days to get a pair of satin slippers made. Though, ' of course, if you were not quite so particular, mi?ss, about that toe, or if you 'ad come about them sooner, we could 'ave obliged you in less time,' tbe shoemaker said. In less time ! A Chicago firm would have made the slippers, gone into liquidation, had a clearing sale, and reopened business at the old stand in less time ! I like to linger over that fortnight's excitement — its details were so novel and so fascinating. First, the vague and the general, the creation of two gowns for an occasion extraordinary, mentioned by head ladies, in establishments where a portrait of Her Majesty hung suggestively on the wall, almost with bated breath. Lady Torquilin for once counselled a mild degree of extravagance, and laughed at my ideas — though she usually respected them about clothes — when I laid out for her inspection three perfectly fresh New York dresses, quite ideal in their way, and asked her if any of them would ' do.' ' You have a great deal to learn, child ! ' she said. ' No, they won't, indeed ! Who ever heard of attending one of Her Majesty's Drawing-Rooms in a frock made in New York ! I'm not saying you haven't very nice taste over there, my dear, for that you have ; but it stands to reason that your dressmakers, not having Court instructions, can't be expected to know anything about Court trains, doesnH it ? ' From which there was no appeal, so that the next day or two went in deep conferences with the head ladies aforesaid and absorbed contemplation of resultant patterns — which Lady Torquilin never liked to hear me call ' samples.' I was spared the trial of deciding upon a colour combination ; being a young lady I was to go in white, Lady Torquilin gave me to under- AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 287 stand, by edict of the Court. But should I have the train or the petticoat of the brocade, or would I prefer a bengaline train with a bodice and petticoat of cfr^i^p, due chine ? Should the train come from the shoulder or be ' fulled ' in at the waist ; and what did I really think myself about ostrich tips grouped down one side, or bunches of field flowers dispersed upon the petticoat, or just a suggestion of silver embroidery gleaming all through ; or perhaps mademoiselle might fancy an Empress gown, which would be thoroughly good style— they had made three for the last Drawing-Room ? I had never been so wrouglit up about any dress before. Privately, I compared it to Lady Torquilin with the fuss that is made about a wedding-dress. ' My dear,' she exclaimed, candidly, ' a wedding-dress is nothing to it ; as I dare say,' she added, roguishly pinching my cheek in a way she had, ' it won't be long before you find out ! ' But I don't think Lady Torquilin really knew at the time anything about this. It was not too much to say that those two Court dresses — Lady Torquilin was going in a scheme of pansy-coloured velvet and heliotrope — haunted our waking and sleeping hours for quite five days. Peter Corke, dropping in almost at the beginning, declared it a disgraceful waste of time, with the whole of Chelsea a dead-letter to me, and came again almost every afternoon that week to counsel and collaborate for an hour and a half. I may say that Miss Corke took the matter in hand vigorously. It was probably a detail in the improve ment of my mind and my manners which she could not con- scientiously overlook. ' Since you have the audacity to wish to kiss the hand of a sovereign who is none of yours,' said she, with her usual twinkle, ' you'll kindly see that you do it properly, miss ! ' So she gave us explicit instructions as to 288 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON the right florist, and glover, and laceman, and hairdresser, to which even Lady Torquilin listened with respect ; ' and do not he 'persuaded^' said she, with mock-severe emphasis, 'to go to anybody else. These people are dear, but you are perfectly safe with them, and that's important, don't you think ? ' Peter even brought over a headdress she wore herself the season before, to get the American effect, she said, and offered to lend it to me. It consisted of three white ostrich feathers aud a breadth of Brussels net about a yard and a half long hanging down behind, and I found it rather trying as an adornment. So I told her I was very much obliged, but I didn't consider it becoming, and I thought I would go with nothing on my head. At which she screamed her delightful little scream, and said indeed I wouldn't, if the Lord Chamberlain had any- thing to say in the matter. And when I found out just how much the Lord Chamberlain had to say in the matter — how he arranged the exact length of my train and cut of my bodice, and what I wore in my hair — the whole undertaking, while it grew in consequence, grew also in cliarm. 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 quite my own way, and the Lord Chamberlain had had nothing to do with it. I enjoyed his interference. This was hard to reconcile with democratic prin- ciples, too. I intend to read up authorities in Anglo-American fiction who may have dealt with the situation when I get home, to see if they shed any light upon 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 simple tyranny if he were allowed to prescribe colours for middle-aged AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 289 ladies, for instance, and had commanded Lady Torquilin to appear in yellow, which is almost the only colour she can't wear. As it was, he was very nice indeed about it, allowing I FOUND THE CURTSEY DIFFICULT AT FIBST. her to come in a V-shaped bodice on account 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 290 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON not a private letter, but a sort of circular — ^just which dress- makers had the V-shaped patterns the 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 straight to the proper sources for informa- tion to have a comfortable mind. With that letter, if anything went wrong, the Lord Chamberlain could clearly be made re- sponsible — 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 have 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 her ' day,* and who had lived all their lives in England, as it was to me. They 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 Royal presence. If 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 heard 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 by 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-past six in the afternoon, almost in tears, because she had failed to per- suade me to take a few lessons, «.t a guinea a lesson, from a AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON ,291 French lady who made a specialty of debutante presentations. I think I should have taken them, the occasion found me with so little self-reliance, if it had not been for Lady Torquilin. But Lady Torquilin said No, certainly not, it was a silly waste of money, and she could show me everything that was necessary for all practical purposes as well as Madame Anybody. So several mornings we had little rehearsals, Lady Torquilin and I, after breakfast, in my room, by which I profited much. We did it very simply, with a towel and whatever flowers were left over from dinner the night before. I would pin the towel to my dress behind and hold the flowers, and advance from the other end of the room to Lady Torquilin, who represented Her Majesty, and gave me her hand to kiss. I found the curtsey difficult at first, especially the getting up part of it, and Lady Torquilin was obliged to give me a great deal of practice. * Remember one thing about the Queen's hand abso- lutely, child,' said she. ' You're not, under any circumstances whatever, to help yourself up by it ! ' 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. 292 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XXVIII I KNOW I sLall enjoy writing this chapter, I enjoyed its prospective contents so much. To be perfectly candid, I liked going to Court better than any other thing I did in England, not excepting Madame Tussaud's. or the Beefeaters at the Tower, or even ' Our Flat ' at the Strand. It did a great deal to reconcile me, practically, with monarchical institutions, although, chiefly on poppa's account, I should like it to be under- stood that my democratic theories are still quite unshaken in every respect. It seems to me, looking back upon it, that we began to go very early in the morning. I remember a vision of long white boxes piled up at the end of the room through the grey of dawn, and a very short nap afterwards, before the maid came knocking with Lady Torquilin's inquiries as to how I had slept, and did I remember that the hairdreseer was coming at nine sharp ? Tt 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 Victoria. And yet, of course, to be quite candid, that was only half the excitement the knock brought ; the other half was 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 293 that we should take our morning meal in retirement. She was a kind, pleasant, loquacious hairdresser. * I'm glad to see you've been able to take a good breakfast, miss,' she said, as she puffed and curled me. ' That's 'alf the battle ! ' She was sorry that she had to come to us so early, ' but not until two o'clock, miss, do I expect to be for one moment off my feet, what with Ontry ladys who don't wish to be done till they're just getting into their carriages — though for that I don't blame them, miss, and nobody could. I'm afraid you'll find these lappits very wearing on the nerves before the day is out. But I'll just pin them up so, miss — and of course you must do as best pleases you, but my adoice would be, don't let them down for anyhodj, miss, till you start.' But I was not sorry the hairdresser came so early. It would have been much more wearing on the nerves to have waited for her. Perhaps you will find it difficult 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 acquire a new meaning and importance, while those of special relevance had the charm that might arise from the mingling of a very august occasion with a fancy-dress ball. When I was quite ready, it seemed to me that 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 monarchical prejudices, which I thought be- coming in masquerade. I was too much fascinated 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 294 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON inside, with little buds dropping and caught in its trailing ribbons — there is a great deal of the essence of a Royal function in a Drawing-Koom bouquet. And then Lady Torquilin, with a new graciousness and dignity, quite a long way off it' 1 had not been conscious of sharing her state for the time. Lady Torquilin s appearance gave me more- ideas about my own than the pier- glass did. ' Dear me ! ' I thought, with a certain rapture, ' do I really look anything like fhrd ? ' We went down in the lift one at a time, with Charlotte as train-bearer, and the other maids furtively admiring from the end of the hall. Almost everybody in Cadogan Mansions seemed to be going out at about the same time, and a small crowd had gathered on each side of the strip of carpet, that led from the door to the carriage. It was Lady Mafferton's carriage, lent for the occasion, and the footman and coachman were as impressive as powder and buff and brass buttons would make them. In addition, they wore remarkable floral designs about the size and shape of a cabbage-leaf upon their breasts immediately under their chins. That was another thing that could not have been done with dignity in America. The weather looked threatening as we drove off, precisely at twelve o'clock, and presently it began to rain with great industry and determination. The drops came streaming down outside the carriage windows ; fewer people as we passed leaned out of hansoms to look at us. Inside the Mafierton carriage we were absurdly secure from the weather ; we surveyed our trains, piled up on the opposite seat, with complacency ; we took no thought even for the curl of our feathers. We counted, as we drove past them to take our place, and there were forty carriages in line ahead of us. Then we stopped behind the last, in the middle of a wide road, heavily bordered under the trees with WE WENT DOWN IN THE LIFT, ONE AT A TIME, WITH CIIARLOTTF! AH TBAIN-BEABJiR.' 20 2q6 an AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON damp people and dripping umbrellas — there for the spectacle. All kinds of people and all kinds of umbrellas, I noticed with interest — ladies and gentlemen, and little seamstresses, and loafers and ragamuffins, and apple-women, and a large propor- tion of your respectable lower middle-class. We sat in state amongst them in the rain, being observed, and liking it. I heard my roses approved, and the nape of my neck, and Lady Tor- quilin's diamonds. I also heard it made very unpleasant for an elderly young lady in the carriage in front of ours, whose appearance was not approved by a pair of candid newsboys. The policemen kept the people off, however ; they could only approach outside a certain limit, and there they stood, or walked up and down, huddled together in the rain, and complaining of the clouded carriage windows. I think there came to me then, sitting in the carriage in the warmth and pride and fragrance and luxuriance of it all, one supreme moment of experience, when I bent my head over my roses and looked out into the rain — one throb of exulting pleasure that seemed to hold the whole meaning of the thing I was doing, and to make its covet- able nature plain. I find my thoughts centre, looking back, upon that one moment. It was three o'clock before we moved again. In the hours that came between we had nothing to do but smell our flowers, discuss the people who drove past to take places farther down the line, congratulate ourselves upon being forty-first, and eat tiny sandwiches done up in tissue paper, with serious regard for the crumbs ; yet the time did not seem at all long. Mr. Oddie Pratte, who was to escort us through the palace and home again, made an incident, dashing up in a hansom on his way to the club to dress, but that was all. And once Lady Torquilin had the footman down to tell him and his brother- functionary under AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 297 the big umbrella to put on their rubber coats. 'Thank you, my lady ! ' said the footman, and went back to the box ; but neither of them took advantage of the permission. They were going to Court too, and knew what was seemly. And the steamy crowd stayed on till the last. 2q8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XXIX RESENTLY, when we were not in the least expecting it, there came a little sudden jolt that made us look at each other precipitatel}-. Lady Torquilin was quite as nervous as I at this point. ' What has become of Oddie ? ' she exclaimed, and descried a red coat in a cab rolling up beside us with in- tense relief. As we passed through the Palace gates the cab dit^appeared, and chaos came again. ' Naughty boy ! ' said Lady Torquilin, in bitterness of spirit. ' Why, in the name of for- tune, could u't he have come with us the carriage ? Men have no nerves, my dear, none whatever ; and they can't understand our having them ! ' But at that moment we alighted, in a maze of directions, upon the wide, red-cai-peted steps, and whisked as rapidly as possible through great corridors AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 299 ' AND CHAOS CAME AGAIN. 300 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON with knots of gentlemen in uniform in them to the cloak-room. ' Hurry, child ! ' whispered 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 others, 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 on 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 regalarly-curving lines of chairs, occupied by the ladies of the forty carriages that were before us. Every head wore 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 many 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 as 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 own AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 301 property, and not connected with her Majesty in any personal way whatever. ' Here you are/ said somebody close behind us. ' How d'ye do, Auntie? How d'ye do. Miss Wick? 'Pon my word, I'm awfully sorry I missed you before; but you're all right, aren't you ? The brute of a policeman at the gates wouldn't pass a hansom.' It was Mr. Oddie Pratte, of course, looking particularly handsome in his red-and-plaid uniform, holding his helmet in front of him in the way that people acquire in the Army, and pleased, as usual, with the world at large. ' Then may I ask how you came here, sir ? ' said Lady Torquilin, making a pretence of severity. ' Private entree ! ' responded Mr. 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 his 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 ? ' Mr. 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 he 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, 302 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON breaking in a hundred places into the foam of those 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 Mr. Oddie Pratte and I — and presently we were inextricably massed about half-way from its despairing outer edge, 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 clung with one hand to her prodigious bouquet, protecting her pendent 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 lady immediately in front of us. She did not know of her misfortune, poor thing, but she had a vague and undetermined sense of woe, and she turned to us with speaking eyes. ' I've lost mamma,' she said, unhappily. ' Where is mamma ? I must go to mamma.' And she was not such a very young lady either. But Lady Torquilin, in her kind- ness of heart, said, ' So you shall, my dear, so you shall ! ' and Mr. Pratte took his aunt's bouquet 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 gi-eat effect upon the brilliancy of the scene. A sudden movement among the ladies nearest the silken AN AMERICAN GIRL.. IN lONDON 303 barrier — a sudden concentration of energy that came with the knowledge that there was progress to be made, progress to Royalty! A quick, heaving rush through and beyond into another apartment full of emptiness and marble pillars, and we were once more at a standstill, having conquered a few places — brought to a masterly inactivity by another silken cord and another Gentleman of the Court, polite but firm. In the room beyond we could see certain figures moving about at their ease, with no crush and no struggle — the ladies and gentlemen of the Private Entree. With what lofty superiority we invested them ! They seemed, for the time, to belong to some other planet, where Royal 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 Mr. Oddie Pratte, ' and then I'll 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 Maj. 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. We're not good enough.' A large-boned lady in fronts red velvet and cream — with a diminutive major in attendance, turned to him at this, and said with unction, ' I am sure, Edwin, that is not the case. I have it on excellent authority that the Queen is jpleasedj 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 ! 'Pon my word, I don't think I ought to go. I'll join you at ' * If you desert me, Edwin, I shall die ! ' said the bony lady, 304 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON in a strong undertone ; and at that moment the crowd broke again. Oddie slipped away, and we went on exultantly two places, for the major had basely and swiftly followed Mr. Pratte, and his timid spouse, in a last clutching expostulation, had fallen hopelessly to the rear. About twenty of us, this time, were let in at once. The last of the preceding twenty were slowly and singly pacing after one another's trains round two sides of this third big room towards a door at the farther corner. There was a most impressive silence. As we got into file I felt that the supreme moment was at hand, and it was not a comfortable feeling. Lady Torquilin, in front of me, put a question to a gentleman in a uniform she ought to have been afraid of — only that nothing ever terrified Lady Tor- quilin, which made it less comfortable still. * Oh, Lord Maffer- ton,' said she — I hadn't recognised him in my nervousness and his gold lace — ^ How many curtseys are there to make ? ' ' Nine, dear lady,' replied this peer, with evident enjoyment. * It's the most brilliant Drawing-Koom of the season. Every Royalty who could possibly attend is here. Nine, at the least ! ' Lady Torquilin's reply utterly terrified me. It was confi- dential, and delivered in an undertone, but it was full of severe meaning. ' I'm full of rheumatism,' said she, ' and I shan't do it.' The question as to what Lady Torquilin would do, if not what was required of her, rose vividly before me, and kept me company at every step of that interminable round. * Am I all right ? ' she whispered over her shoulder from the other end of that trailing length of pansy-coloured velvet. ' Perfectly/ I said. But there was nobody to tell m& that I was all right — I might have been a thing of shreds and patches. Somebody's IT WAS MY TUBN 3o6 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON roses had dropped ; I was walking on pink petals. What a pity ! And I had forgotten to take off my glove ; would it ever come unbuttoned ? How deliberately we were nearing that door at the farther end ! And how could I possibly have supposed that my heart would beat like this ! It was all very well to allow one's self a little excitement in preparation ; but when it 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. ' Remember, Mamie Wick,' said I to myself, * you don't believe 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 hand ! And in another moment it would be — it was my turn ! I felt the touches on my own train, I heard somebody call a name I had a vague familiarity with — * Miss Mamie Wick.' I was launched at last towards that little black figure of Royalty with the Blue Ribbon crossing her breast and the Koh-i-nor sparkling there ! Didu^t you believe in queens. Miss Mamie 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 me. And one awful moment when I couldn't quite tell whether I had backed out of all the Royal presences or not, AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 307 made up my mind that I had, then unmade it, and in agony of spirit turned and hacked again ! It was over at last. I had kissed the hand of the Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, and — there's no use in trying to believe anything to the contraiy — I was proud of it. Lady .Torquilin and I regarded each other in the next room with pale and breathless congratulation, and then turned with one accord to Oddie Pratte. ' On the whole,' said that young gentleman, blandly, ' you did rae credit ! ' 3oS AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON XXX T AM writing this last chapter in the top berth of a saloon ^ cabin on board the Cunard s.s. ' Etruria,' which left Liver- pool June 25, and is now three days out. From which it will be seen that I am going home. Nothing has happened there, you will be glad to hear, perhaps. Poppa and momma, and all the dear ones of Mrs. Portheris's Christmas card, are quite in their usual state of health. The elections are not on at present, so there is no family depression in connection with poppa's political future. I am not running away from the English climate either, which had begun, shortly before I left, to be rather agreeable. I have been obliged to leave England on account of a Misunder- 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 at 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. AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 309 It occurred almost as soon as the family returned from the South of France, where they had been all spring, you remember, from considerations affecting the health of the eldest Miss Mafferton — with whom I had kept up, from time to time, a very pleasant correspondence. One day, about three weeks after the Drawing-Room, when Lady Torquilin and I could scarcely ever rely upon an afternoon at home, we came in to find all the Mafferton cards again in. There was a note, too, in which Mrs. Mafferton begged Lady Torquilin to waive ceremony and bring me to dine with them the following evening. ' You can guess,' said Mrs. Mafferton, ' how anxious we must be to see her.' There was a postscript to the invitation, which said that although Charlie, as we probably knew, was unfortunately out of town for a day or two, Mrs Mafferton hoped he would be back in the course of the evening. ' Well, my dear,' said Lady Torquilin, ' it's easily seen that I can't go, with those Watkins people coming here. But you shall — I'll let you off the Watkinses. It isn't really fair to the Maffertons to keep them waiting any longer. I'll write at once and say so. Of course,' Lady Torquilin went on, * under ordinary circumstances I shouldn't think of letting you go out to dinner alone, but in this case — there is sure to be only the family, you know — I don't think it matters/ So Lady Torquilin wrote, and when the time came lent me Charlotte to go with me in a hansom to Hertford Street, May- fair. ^ Be sure you bring me back a full and particular account of how they all behave, child,' said she, as she looked me over after my toilette was made ; * I shall be interested to hear.' A massive butler let me into the usual narrow, high-ceiled Mayfair hall, richly lighted and luxurious ; the usual convenient maid in a white cap appeared at the first landing to show the way 3IO AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON to the proper room for my wraps. After Lady Torquilin's ex- pression of interest in how they behaved, I had been wondering whether the Maffertons had 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 I had been growing accustomed to those of the English nation ; as a whole they no longer struck me forcibly. I quite anticipated some fresh ones, and the opportunity of observing them closely. The drawing-room seemed, as I went in, to be full of Maffer- tons. There were more Maffertons than china plates on the wall, than patterns on the carpet. And yet there were only the four young ladies and their mother and father. The effect was produced, I think, by the great similarity between the Misses Mafferton. Not in actual face or figure ; there were quite per- ceptible differences there. 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 me and at their mamma, waiting until it should be entirely proper for them to come forward. They were dressed a good deal alike, in low tones of silk, high necked, rather wrinkling 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 behind. I have never been sure about their ages — they might have been anything from twenty-five to forty ; but Isabella, whom they spoke of as the youngest, seemed to me to be the most serious and elderly of all. Mrs. Mafferton was a very stout old lady, with what is called a fine face. She wore a good many 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 AN AMERICAN GJRL IN LONDON beamed upon me — not an impulsive beam, however, ratlier a beam with an element of caution in it. * You are very welcome, Miss Wick. Indeed, we have been looking forward to this. I think you ought to let me give you a kiss ! ' Of course I did let Mrs. Mafferton give me a kiss — it was impossible to refuse. But I thought myself singularly favoured ; it did not seem at all in accordance with the character of the family to fall upon the neck of a stranger and embrace her by way of welcoming her to dinner. I was still further of that opinion when each of the Misses Mafferton followed the example of their mamma, and saluted me tenderly on the same cheek. But I immediately put it down to be an idiosyncrasy. ' We are so glad to see you at last,' said the eldest. ' Yes, indeed ! ' said the second. 'We began to think we never should,' said the third. ' We really did ! ' said the fourth. ' Papa,' said Mrs. Mafferton, ' this is Miss Wick, of whom we have all heard so much.' She spoke very close to the ear of an old gentleman in an arm-chair screened from the fire, with one leg stretched out on a rest ; but he did not understand, and she had to say it over again : ' Miss Wick, of whom we have all heard so much. Poor dear ! he does not hear very well,' Mrs. Mafferton added to me. * You must use the speaking-trumpet, I fear, Miss Wick.' * Well,' said old Mr. Mafferton, 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 the young ladies laughed and pro- tested, * Oh, fie, papa ! ' For my part I began to think this idiosyncrasy singularly common to the family. Then the eldest ISliss Mafferton put one end of a long black speaking-trumpet into my hand, aud Mr. Mafferton, seeing her AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 313 do this, applied the other to his ear. I had nothing whatever to say, but, overcome with the fear of seeming rude, I was raising it to my lips and thinking hard when I felt two anxious hands upon my arm. ' Do excuse us ! ' exclaimed a Miss MafFerton, ' but if you wouldn't mind holding it just a little farther from your lips, please ! We are obliged to tell everybody. Otherwise the voice makes quite a distressing noise in his poor ears.' At which every semblance of an idea left me instantly. Yet I must say something — Mr. Mafferton was waiting at the other end of the tube. This was the imbecility I gave expression to. * I came here in a cab ! ' I said. It was impossible to think of anything else. That was not a very propitious beginping; and Mr. Mafferton's further apology for not being able to take me down to dinner, on the ground that he had to be takea down by the butler himself, did not help matters in the very least. At dinner I sat upon Mr. Mafferton's right, with the coiling length of the speaking-trumpet between us. The brother came in just before we went down — a thin young man with a ragged beard, a curate. Of course, a curate beiug there, we began with a blessing. Then Mrs. Mafferton said. * I hope you won't mind our not having asked any one else, Miss Wick. We were selfish enough to want you, this first evening, all to ourselves.' It was certainly the Mafferton 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 Mafferton. It began to seem to me that none of these young ladies considered themselves entitled to au opinion in the first person singular. 314 A.V AMERTCAN CTRL IN LONDON An idea appeared to be, as it were, a family product. ^ She was very sorry,' I said. * And so, I am sure, are we,' remarked Mrs. MafFerton, gra- ciously, from the other end of the table. ' It was through dear Lady Torquilin, I believe, that you first met our son, Miss Wick?' I began to feel profoundly uncomfortable — I scarcely knew exactly why. It became apparent to me that there was something in the domestic atmosphere with which I was out of sympathy. I thought the four Miss Maffertons looked at me with too much interest, and I believed that the curate was purposely distracting himself with his soup. I corroborated what Mrs. Mafferton had said rather awkwardly, and caught one Miss Mafferton looking at another in a way that expressed distinct sympathy for me. I was quite relieved when Mrs. Mafferton changed the subject by saying, ' So you are an American, Miss Wick ? ' and I was able to tell her something about Chicago and our methods of railway travelling. Mrs. Mafferton was very pleasant about Americans ; she said she always found them nice, kind-hearted people. The curate said, thoughtfully, crumbling his bread, that we had a vast country over there. ' Francis ! ' exclaimed the Miss Mafferton who sat next to him, playfully abstracting the crumbs, ' you know that's naughty of you ! I'm afraid you've come to a very nervous family. Miss Wick. I felt myself blushing abominably. 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 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 315 EVEN THEM, I REMEMBEli, HE LOOKED A SEKIOUS PEKSON.' 3i6 A A AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON absorption, and say that nervous disorders did sometimes run in families, or something equally imbecile! ' But Charlie's nerves are as strong as possible ! ' said another Miss Mafferton, reproachfully, to her sister. We had other general conversation, and I spoke into ]\Ir. Mafferton's trumpet several times with a certain amount of coherence ; but I remember only the points which struck me as of special interest at the time. Among them was the proposal that, if I were willing, Mrs. Mafferton should drive me on Tuesday week — that would be to-day — to see an invalid married sister living in Hampstead who was most anxious to welcome me. How could I say I was not willing ! Then, after dinner, in the drawing-room, Mrs. Mafferton took me aside ' for a little chat,' and told me what a good son Charles had always been, and showed me several photographs of him at earlier stages, from the time he wore a sash and pinafore. Even then, I remember, he looked a serious person. After which I had another little chat with two of the Misses ^K.fferton together, who explained what a devoted brother they had always had in Charlie. ' We are so glad you've been kind to him," they said, impulsively. ' Of course we haven't seen him yet since our return, but his letters have told us ihai much.' I tried in vain to rack my brain for occasions on which I had been kind to Mr. Charles Mafferton, and longed for an attack of faiut- ness or a severe headache. ' Indeed,' I said, * it was always your brother who was kind — to Lady Torquilin and to me.' At which the young ladies smiled consciously, and said something about iliai being perfectly natural. Then, just as I was wondering whether I absolutely must wait for Charlotte to arrive in a cab to take me home as Lady Torquilin had arranged, and as the third Miss Mafferton ' THE MISSES MAFFERTON, WHO ACCOMPANIEr ME, TURNED QUITE PALE.' 31 8 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON was telling me how noble but how uninteresting it was of Francis to take up extreme Ritualistic views and vow himself to celibacy, the door-bell rang. ' There's Charlie now ! ' exclaimed the Misses Mafferton all together. ' I must really go ! ' I said precipitately. 'I — I promised Lady Torquilin 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 Ameiican mail goes out to-morrow — at least, I iJiirik it does — and — and (rooc^-night, Mrs. Mafferton ! Good- niglit^ Mr. Mafferton ! ' I said it very rapidly, and although they were all kind enough to meet my departure with protest, I think it was evident to them that for 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 meeting Mr. Charles Mafferton before his family. Two of them came upstairs with me to get my wraps, and assured me in various indirect ways that they quite understood — it was awkward. Coming down, we met Mr. Charles Mafferton at the door of the drawing-room. The Misses Mafferton, who accompanied me, turned quite pale when they heard me assure 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 the conversation that took place between Mr. Mafferton 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 left me to infer that I had been incon- AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 319 sistent, though I am sure I could make no self-accusation which would be more baseless. Privately, I thought the inconsistency was his, and that it was of the most glaring description. 1 am of opinion, with all due respect to your English customs, that if Mr. Mafferton desired to marry me, he should have taken me, to some extent, into his confidence about it. He should not have made Lady Torquilin the sole repository of the idea. A single bunch of roses, or basket of fruit, or box of candy addressed to me Specially, would have been enough to give my thoughts a proper direction in the matter. Then I would have known what to do. But I always seemed to make an unavoid- able second in Mr. Mafferton's attentions, and accepted 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. Mafferton would be an unlikely thing to occupy the liveliest imagination. Perhaps Mr. Mafferton did not know how his family had intended to behave to me. At all events, he offered 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. ' Etruria ' to-day. The ladies' steward of the ' Etruria,' a little fellow with large blue eyes and spectacles and a drooping moustache, is very polite and attentive. His devotion, after Mr. Mafferton'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 me the idea that 1 had treated her badly too. I should be so sorry to 320 AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON think that 1 had treated Lady Torquilin badly. She Feeined to think that I should have told her in the very beginning that I was engaged to Mr. Arthur Greenleaf Page, of the Yale University Staff. She seemed to think that I should have told everybody. I 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 things quite so much in America as you do in England, I thiuk. They are not so openly known and discussed. I must apolo- gise to myself for bringing Mr. Page in even at this stage, but it seemed to be unavoid- able. I don't know at all, by the way, what Arthur will say to this last of my English experi- ences. He may not consider it as ' formative ' as he hoped the others would be. There is only TH£ LADIES' STEWARD.- ono thing that AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 321 makes the thought endurable for an instant — it would have been nice to be related to the Stacys. Just before sailing the purser supplied me with dear consola- tion in the shape of a letter from 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 reproaches. ' 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 I'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 vei-y 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 chnpter of that one too. Dear Peter I A D. APPLETON & CO.^S PUBLICATIONS. AN UNCONVENTIONAL TRAVEL-BOOK. SOCIAL DEPARTURE: How Orthodocia and I went Round the World by Ourselves. By Sara Jeannettb Duncan. With 112 Illustrations. i2mo, cloth. Price, $1.75 The NEW YORK HERALD says : " This is one of the brightest stories of travel that ever came from a feminine pen. . . . It is a cheery, witty, decorous, charming book— one which should amuse some men and delight many women." The NEW YORK EVENING POST says: " Widely read and praised on both sides of the Atlantic and Pacific, the diary is now republished in New York, with scores of illustrations which fit the text exactly and show the mind of artist and writer in unison." The BOSTON DAIL Y ADVERTISER says • "... It is to be doubted whether another book can be found so thoroughly amusing from beginning to end." The BOSTON EVENING TRANSCRIPT says: " A very bright book on a very entertaining subject. We commend it to those readers who abhor the ordinary statistical book of travels." The ST LOUIS REPUBLICAN says: " A brighter, merrier, more entirely charming book would be, indeed, difficult to find." Mrs. P. T. Barnum's Letter to the NEW YORK TRIBUNE says. " For sparkling wit, irresistibly contagious fun, keen observation absolutely poetic appreciation of natural beauty, and vivid descriptive- ness, it has no recent rival." New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3. & 5 Bond Street. D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. A CHARMING AUTOBIOGRAPHY. T 'HE LIFE OF AN ARTIST. By Jules Breton. With Portrait. Translated by Mrs. Mary J. Serrano. i2mo. Bound in cloth, $1.50. ' . . , One of those books the success of which is assured from the first because jt Its perfect naturalness. . . . The reader of Jules Breton's memoir . . . will close the book without having experienced one misgiving as to its entire truthfulness. From the first page to the last his memoir will be found not merely readable, but fascinating, and the translator has very well reproduced his charms of style, his beautiful simplicity, and that perfume of the love of Nature which breathes through the book and ennobles it." — New York Tribune. " The method and spirit . . . are most delicate and delightful. . . . Filled with the poet's glow and the philosopher's peace." — New York Sun. " One understands modem France the better for this autobiography of her highly gifted son." — Boston Pilot. "Jules Breton, by writing his autobiography, has conferred a lasting favor on the lovers of this class of literature." — Detroit Journal. IV IDOW GUTHRIE. A Novel. By Richard Mal- colm Johnston. Illustrated by E. W. Kemble. i2mo. Bound in cloth, $1.50. "It is understood that Colonel Johnston regards ^ Widow Guthrie' as his strongest work." " One of the happiest, sweetest, quaintest novels that have come from the press in along time is 'Widow Guthrie,' a vigorous, breezy, and faithful picture of life in the South in the days before the war. There is no lack of virility, but there is also a re- finement which is exquisite because it is genuine, and a humor which is mellow and sweet because it springs from a clean imagination." — Brooklyn Standard-Union. "It is full of strong descriptions and curious and forcible character delineations. There is remarkable freshness in the figures of the story. The duel and the slaying of Duncan Guthrie are descriptive masterpieces " — Nerv York Sun. " The Widow Guthrie stands out more boldly than any other figure we know — a figure curiously compounded of cynical hardness, blind love, and broken-hearted pathos. ... A strong and interesting study of Georgia characteristics wi^hout de- pending upon dialect. There is just sufiicient mannerism and change of speech to give piquancy to the -whoXe."— Baltimore Sun. "... Some remarkably vivid portraitures of character. . . . The book is one that will please men as well as women." — Boston Evening Gazette. New York: D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street. T D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. ''HE STORY OF MY HOUSE. By George H. Ellw ANGER, author of " The Garden's Story." With an Original Etching by Sidney L. Smith. Also many Head and Tail Pieces, i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. Even a more delightful book than " The Garden's Story." Though seemingly devoted to the house proper, the essays are filled with the freshness of country life and the beauty of external nature. T HE GARDEN'S STORY; or, Pleasures and Trials of an Amateur Gardener By George H. Ellw anger. With Head and Tail Pieces by Rhead. i2mo. Cloth, extra, $1.50. "Mr. Ellwanger's instinct rarely errs in matters of taste. He writes out of the fullness of experimental knowledge, but his knowledge differs from that of many a trained cultivator in that his skill in garden practice is guided by a refined aesthetic sensibility, and his appreciation of what is beautiful in nature is healthy, hearty, and catholic. His record of the garden year, as we have said, begins with the earliest violet, and it follows the season through until the witch-hazel is blossoming on the border of the wintry woods. . . . This little book can not fail to give pleasure to all who take a genuine interest in rural life." — The Tribune, New York. 'J^HE FOLK-LORE OF PLANTS. By t. F. This- -/ ELTON Dyer, M. A. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. " A handsome and deeply interesting volume. ... In all respects the book is ex- cellent. Its arrangement is simple and intelligible, its style bright and alluring. . . To all who seek an introduction to one of the most attractive branches of folk- lore, this delightful volume may be warmly commended "—A^tf^^.y and Queries. F LOWERS AND THEIR PEDIGREES. By Grant Allen, author of " Vignettes of Nature," etc. Illus- trated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. "' No writer treats scientific subjects with so much ease and charm of style as Mr. Jrant Allen. " The study is a delightful one, and the book is fascinating to any one who has either love for flowers or curiosity about them." —Hartford Courant. iSTew York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street. D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. OUTINGS AT ODD TIMES. By Charles C. Abbott, author of " Days out of Doors " and " A Naturalist's Rambles about Home." i6mo. Cloth, gilt top, $1.25. Dr. Abbott's delightful studies in Natural History have become familiar to many readers, and his new volume is suggestive, instructive and always interesting. A NATURALIST' S RAMBLES ABOUT HOME. By Charles C. Abbott. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. " The home about which Dr. Abbott rambles is clearly the haunt of fowl and fish, of animal and insect life ; and it is of the habits and natuie of these that he discourses pleasantly in this book. Summer and winter, morning and evening, he has been in the open air all the time on the alert for some new revelation of instinct, or feeling, or character on the part of his neighbor creatures. Most that he sees and hears he reports agreeably to us, as it was no doubt delightful to himself Books like this, which are free from all the technicalities of science, but yet lack little that has scien- ifi value, are well suited to tlie reading of the young. 1 heir atmosphere is a healthy yi for boys in particular to breathe." — Boston Transcript. P\^y^ OUT OF DOORS. By Charles C. Abbott. *-^ author of "A Naturalist's Rambles about Home." i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. " * Days out of Doors ' is a series of sketches of animal life by Charles C. Abbott, a naturalist whose graceful writings have enteitained and instructed the public before now. The essays and narratives in this book are grouped in twelve chapters, named after the months of the year. Under ' January ' the author talks of squirrels, musk- rats, water-snakes, and the predatory animals that withstand the rigor of winter; under ' February ' of frogs and herons, crows and blackbirds ; under ' March ' of gulls and fishes and foxy sparrows, and so on appropriately, instructively, and divertingly through the whole twelve." — The New York Sun. T HE PLAYTIME NATURALIST. By Dr. j. E Taylor, F. L. S., editor of " Science Gossip." With 366 Illu - trations. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. " The work contains abundant evidence of the author's knowledge and enthusiasm, and any boy who may read it carefully is sure to find something to attract him. The style is clear and lively, and there are many good illustrations." — Nature. New York : D. APPLETON & CO., i, 3, & 5 Bond Street. i RETURN TO the circulation desk of any University of California Library or to the NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY BIdg. 400, Richmond Field Station University of California Richmond, CA 94804-4698 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 2-month loans may be renewed by calling (415)642-6753 1-year loans may be recharged by bringing books to NRLF Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date DUE AS STAMPED BELOW JUL 61992 ■h^ *1996 RECEIVED '^FP ^ 8 1996 CIRCULATION DEPT. NOV 13 2001 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES COmbDllSB 483503 UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA LIBRARY