A Voyage Of Consolation - Sara Jeannette Duncan (namjoon book recommendations .txt) 📗

So Easy

With An English Girl. They Don'T Seem To Think It'S Proper To Analyse

Your Character. They'Re So Maidenly."

 

"And So Unenterprising," I Said,  But I Said It To Myself.

 

"Isabel Was Actually Beginning To _Lead Up To The Subject_," Dicky Went

On. "She Asked Me The Other Day If It Was True That All American Men

Were Flirts. In another Week I Should Have Felt That She Would Know What

Was Proposing To Her."

 

"And You Were Going To Wait Another Week?"

 

"Well,  A Man Wants Every Advantage," Said Dicky Blandly.

 

"Did You Explain To Isabel That You Were Only Joining Our Party In The

Hope Of Meeting Her Accidentally Soon Again?"

 

"What Else," Asked He In Pained Surprise,  "Should I Have Joined It For?

No,  I Didn'T; I Hadn'T The Chance,  For One Thing. You Took The First

Train Back To Rome Next Morning,  You Know. She Wasn'T Up."

 

"True," I Responded. "Momma Said Not Another Hour Of Her Husband'S Aunt

Caroline Would She Ever Willingly Endure. She Said She Would Spend Her

Entire Life,  If Necessary,  In avoiding The Woman." But Dicky Had Not

Followed The Drift Of My Thought.

 

I Added Vaguely,  "I Hope She Will Understand It"--I Really Couldn'T Be

More Definite--And Bade Mr. Dod Good-Night. He Held My Hand

Absent-Mindedly For A Moment,  And Mentioned The Effectiveness Of The

Ponte Vecchio From That Point Of View.

 

"I Didn'T Feel Bound To Change My Tickets Less Ten Per Cent.," He Said

Hopefully,  "And We'Re Sure To Come Across Them Early And Often. In The

Meantime You Might Try And Soften Me A Little--About Lot'S Wife."

 

Next Day,  In The Ufizzi,  It Was No Surprise To Meet The Miss Binghams.

We Had A Guilty Consciousness Of Fellow-Citizenship As We Recognised

Them,  And Did Our Best To Look As If Two Weeks Were Quite Long Enough To

Be Forgotten In,  But They Seemed Charitable And Forgiving On This

Account,  Said They Had Looked Out For Us Everywhere,  And _Had_ We Seen

The Cuttings In The Vatican?

 

"The Statues,  You Know," Explained Miss Cora Kindly,  Seeing That We Did

Not Comprehend. "Marvellous--Simply Marvellous! We Enjoyed Nothing So

Much As The Marble Department. It Takes It Out Of You Though--We Were

Awfully Done Afterwards."

 

I Wondered What Phidias Would Have Said To The "Cuttings," And Whether

The Miss Binghams Imagined It A Briticism. It Also Occurred To Me That

One Should Never Mix One'S Colloquialisms; But That,  Of Course,  Did Not

Prevent Their Coming Round With Us. I Believe They Did It Partly To

Diffuse Their Guide Among A Larger Party. He Was Hanging,  As They Came

Up,  Upon Miss Cora'S Reluctant Earring,  So To Speak,  And She Was

Mechanically Saying,  "Yes! Yes! Yes!" To His Representations. "I

Suppose," Said She Inadvertently,  "There Is No Way Of Preventing Their

Giving One Information," And After That When She Hospitably Pressed The

Guide Upon Us We Felt At Liberty To Be Unappreciative.

 

I Regret To Write It Of Two Maiden Ladies Of Good New York Family,  And A

Knowledge Of The World; But The Miss Binghams Capitulated To Dicky Dod

With A Promptness And Unanimity Which Would Have Been Very Bad For Him

If Nobody Had Been There To Counteract Its Effects. He Walked Between

Them Through The Vestibules,  Absorbing A Flow Of Tribute From Each Side

With A Complacency Which His Recent Trying Experiences Made All The More

Profound. There Was Always A Something,  Miss Nancy Declared,  About An

American Who Had Made His Home In england--You Could Always Tell. "In

Your Case,  Mr. Dod,  There Is An Association Of Bond Street. I Can'T

Describe It,  But It Is There. I Hope You Don'T Mind My Saying So."

 

"Oh,  No," Said Dicky,  "I Guess It'S My Tailor. He Lives In bond Street;"

But This Was Artless And Not Ironical. Miss Cora Went Further. "I Should

Have Taken Mr. Dod For An Englishman," She Said,  At Which The

Miscalculated Mr. Dod Looked Alarmed.

 

"Is That So?" He Responded. "Then I'Ll Book My Passage Back At Once.

I'Ve Been Over There Too Long. You See I'Ve Been Kind Of Obliged To

Stay For Reasons Connected With The Firm,  But You Ladies Can Take My

Word For It That When You Get Through This Sort Of Ridiculous Veneer

I'Ve Picked Up You'Ll Find A Regular All-Wool-And-A-Yard-Wide

City-Of-Chicago American,  And I'M Bound To Ask You Not To Forget It.

This English Way Of Talking Is A Thing That Grows On A Fellow

Unconsciously,  Don'T You Know. It Wears Off When You Get Home."

 

At Which Miss Cora And Miss Nancy Looked At Each Other Smilingly And

Repeated "Don'T You Know" In derisive Echo,  And We All Felt That Our

Young Friend Had Been Too Modest About His Acquirements.

 

"But We Mustn'T Neglect Our Old Masters," Cried Miss Nancy As Those Of

The First Corridor Began To Slip Past Us On The Walls,  With No Desire To

Interrupt. "What Do You Think Of This Greek Byzantine Style,  Mr. Wick?

Somehow It Doesn'T Seem To Appeal To Me,  Though Whether It'S The

Flatness--Or What----"

 

"It _Is_ Flat,  Certainly," Agreed The Senator,  "But That'S A Very

Popular Style Of Angel For Christmas Cards--The More Expensive Kinds.

Here,  I Suppose,  We Get The Original."

 

"That Is Tuscan School,  Sir--Madam," Put In The Guide,  "And Not

Angel--Saint Cecilia. Fourteen Century,  But We Do Not Know That Artiss

His Name. In The Book You Will See Cimabue,  But It Is Not

Cimabue--Unknown Artiss."

 

"Dear Me!" Cried Momma. "St. Cecilia,  Of Course. Don'T You Remember Her

Expression--In The Catacombs?"

 

"She'S Sweet,  Always And Everywhere," Said Miss Cora,  As We Moved On,

Leaving The Guide Explaining St. Cecilia With His Hands Behind His Back.

"And You Did Go To Capri After All? Now I Wonder,  Nancy,  If They Had Our

Experience About The Oysters?"

 

"A Horrid Little Man!" Cried Momma.

 

"Who Showed You The Way To The Steamer----"

 

"And Hung Around Doing Things The Whole Enduring Time," Continued My

Parent,  As Mark Antony'S Daughter Turned Her Head Aside,  And Drusus,  The

Brother Of Tiberius,  Frowned Upon Our Passing.

 

"He Must Have Been Our Man!" Cried Both The Misses Bingham,  With

Excitement.

 

"In The Manner Of Taddeo Gaddi," Interrupted The Guide,  Surprising Us On

The Flank With A Holy Family.

 

"All Right," Said The Senator. "Well,  This Fellow Proposed To Bring Our

Party Oysters On The Steamer,  And We Took Him,  Of Course,  For The

Steward'S Tout----"

 

"Exactly What We Thought."

 

"Since _You_ Are Going To Tell The Story,  Alexander,  I May Remind You

That He Said They Were The Best In The World," Remarked Momma,  With

Several Degrees Of Frost.

 

"My Dear,  The Anecdote Is Yours. But You Remember I Told Him They

Wouldn'T Be In It With Blue Points."

 

"Now _What_," Exclaimed Miss Nancy,  With Excitement,  "Did He Ask You For

Them?"

 

"Three Francs A Head,  Nancy,  Wasn'T It,  Mrs. Wick? And You Gave The

Order,  And The Man Disappeared. And You Thought He'D Gone To Get Them;

At Least,  We Did. Nancy Here Had Perfect Confidence In Him. She Said He

Had Such Dog-Like Eyes,  And We Were Both Perfectly Certain They Would Be

Served When The Steamer Stopped At The Blue Grotto----" Miss Cora Paused

To Smile.

 

"But They Weren'T," Suggested Momma Feebly.

 

"No,  Indeed,  And Hadn'T The Slightest Intention Of Being." Miss Nancy

Took Up The Tale. "Not Until We Were Taking Off Our Gloves In The Hotel

Verandah,  And Making Up Our Minds To A Good Hot Lunch,  Did Those Oysters

Appear--Exactly Half A Dozen,  And Bread And Butter Extra! And We

Couldn'T Say We Hadn'T Ordered Them. And The Lunch Was Only Two Francs

Fifty,  _Complet_. But We Felt We Ought To Content Ourselves With The

Oysters,  Though,  Of Course,  You Wouldn'T With Gentlemen In Your Party.

Now,  What Course _Did_ You Pursue,  Mrs. Wick?"

 

"Really," Said Momma Distantly,  "I Don'T Remember. I Believe We Had

Enough To Eat. Surely That Is Little Moses Being Taken From The

Bulrushes! How It Adds To One'S Interest To Recognise The Subject."

 

"By B. Luti," Responded Miss Nancy. "I _Hope_ He Isn'T Very Well Known,

For I Never Heard Of Him Before. Now,  There'S A Domenichino; I Can Tell

It From Here. I Do Love Domenichino,  Don'T You?"

 

I Suppose The Senator Knew That Momma Didn'T Love Domenichino,  And Would

Possibly Be At A Loss To Say Why; At All Events,  He Remarked That,

Talking Of Capri,  He Hoped The Miss Binghams Had Not Felt As Badly About

Inconveniencing The Donkeys That Took Them To The Top Of The Cliff As

Momma Had. "Mrs. Wick," He Informed Them,  "Rode An Ass By The Name Of

Michael Angelo,  Perfectly Accustomed To The Climate,  And,  Do You Believe

It,  She Held Her Parasol Over That Animal'S Head The Whole Way." At

Which Everybody Laughed,  And Momma,  Invested With An Original And

Amiable Weakness,  Was Appeased.

 

"Of Michelangelo We Have Not Here Much," Said The Guide Patiently.

"Drawings Yes,  And One Holy Family--Magnificent! But All In another Room

W'Ich----"

 

"Now What Bramley Said About The Ufizzi Was This," Continued The

Senator. "'You'Ll See On Those Walls,' He Said,  'The Best Picture Show

In The World,  Both For Pedigree And Quality Of Goods Displayed. I'D Go

As Far As To Say They'Re All Worth Looking At,  Even Those That Have Been

Presented To The Institution. But Don'T You Look At Them,' Bramley Said,

'As A Whole. You Keep All Your Absorbing-Power For One Apartment,' He

Said--'The Tribune. You'Ll Want It.' Bramley Gave Me To Understand That

It Wasn'T Any Use He Didn'T Profess To Be Able To Describe His Sublimer

Emotions,  But When He Sat Down In The Tribune He Had A Sort Of

Instinctive Idea That He'D Got The Cream Of It--He Didn'T Want To Go Any

Further."

 

We Decided,  Therefore,  In Spite Of Such Minor Attractions As Those Of

Niobe And Her Daughters,  At Once To Achieve The Tribune,  Feeling,  As

Poppa Said,  That It Would Be Most Unfortunate To Have Our Admiration All

Used Up Before We Reached It. The Guide Led The Way,  And It Was Beguiled

With The Fascinating Experience Of The Miss Binghams,  Who Had Met Queen

Marguerite Driving In The Villa Borghese At Rome And Had Received A Bow

From Her Majesty Of Which Nothing Would Ever Be Able To Deprive Them.

"Of Course We Drew Up To Let Her Pass," Said Miss Nancy,  "And Were

Careful Not To Make Ourselves In any Way Conspicuous,  Merely Standing Up

In The Carriage As An Ordinary Mark Of Respect. And She Looked Charming,

All In Pink And White,  With A Faded Old Maid Of Honour That Set Her Off

Beautifully,  Didn'T She,  Cora? And Such A Pretty Smile She Gave Us--They

Say She Likes The Better Class Of Americans."

 

"Oh,  We'Ve Nothing To Regret About Rome," Rejoined Cora. "Even Peter'S

Toe. I Wouldn'T Have Kissed It At The Time If The Guide Hadn'T Said It

Was Really Jupiter'S. I Was Sure Our Dear Vicar Wouldn'T Mind My Kissing

Jupiter'S Toe. But Now I'M Glad I Did It In any Case. People Always Ask

You That."

 

When We Arrived At The Little Octagonal Treasure Chamber Mr. Dod And

Miss Cora Sat Down Together On One Of The Less Conspicuous Sofas,  And I

Saw That Dicky Was Already Warmed To Confidence. Momma At Once Gave Up

Her Soul To The Young St. John,  Having Had An Engraving Of It Ever Since

She Was A Little Girl,  And The Senator Went Solemnly From Canvas To

Canvas On Tip-Toe With A Mind Equally Open To Job And The Fornarina. He

Assured Miss Nancy And Me That Bramley Was Perfectly Right In Thinking

Everything Of The Tribune,  And With Reference To The Dancing Fawn,  That

It Was Worth A Visit To See Michael Angelo'S Notion Of Executing Repairs

To Statuary Alone. He Gave The Place The Benefit Of His Most Serious

Attention,  Pulling His Beard A Good Deal Before Titian'S Venus (Which

Poppa Always Did In connection With This Goddess,  However,  Entirely

Apart From The Merit Of The Painting) And Obviously Making Allowances

For Her Of Medici On Account Of Her Great Age. At The End Of The Hour We

Spent There It Had The Same Effect Upon Him As Upon Colonel Bramley,  He

Did Not Wish To Go Any Further; And We Parted From The Miss Binghams,

Who Did. As I Said Good-Bye To Miss Cora She Gave My Hand A Subtly

Sympathetic Pressure,  Whispered Tenderly,  "He'S Very Nice," And

Roguishly Escaped Before I Could Ask Who Was,  Or What Difference It

Made. Having Thought It Over,  I Took The First Opportunity Of Inquiring

Of Dicky How Much Of His Private Affairs He Had Unburdened To Miss Cora.

"Oh," Said He,  "Hardly Anything. She Knows A Former Young Lady Friend Of

Mine In Syracuse--We Still Exchange Christmas Cards--And That Led Me On

To Say I Thought Of Getting Married This Winter. Of Course I Didn'T

Mention Isabel."