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Was Impossible Not To

See Mr. Mafferton'S Good Opinion Of Me Rising In His Face. He Said He

Could Not Help Sympathising With The Paternal View,  But That Was All He

_Would_ Say; He Refrained Magnificently From Abusing Dicky. And We

Parted Mutually More Deeply Convinced Than Ever Of The Undesirability Of

Doing Anything Rash In The All Important Direction We Had Been

Discussing.

 

As We Disembarked At Colico To Take The Train For Chiavenna,  Mrs.

Portheris,  After Seeing That Mr. Mafferton Was Collecting The

Portmanteaux,  Gave Me A Word Of Comfort And Of Admonition. "Take My

Advice,  My Child," She Said,  "And Be Faithful To Poor Dear Richard. Your

Father Must,  In The End,  Give Way. I Shall Keep At Him In Your

Interests. When You Left Us This Afternoon," Continued The Lady

Mysteriously,  "He Immediately Took Out His Fountain Pen And Wrote A

Letter. It Was Directed--I Saw That Much--To A Mr. Arthur Page. Is He

The Creature Who Is To Be Forced Upon You,  My Child?" Mrs. Portheris In

The Sentimental View Was Really Affecting.

 

"I Think It Very Likely," I Said Calmly,  "But I Have Promised To Be

Faithful To Richard,  Mrs. Portheris,  And I Will."

 

But I Really Felt A Little Nervous.

 

 

Chapter 23

The Instant We Saw The Diligence Momma Declared That If She Had To Sit

Anywhere But In The Middle Of It She Would Remain In chiavenna Until

Next Day. Mrs. Portheris Was Of The Same Mind. She Said That Even The

_Interieur_ Would Be Dangerous Enough Going Down Hill,  But If The

Senator Would Sit There Too She Would Try Not To Be Nervous. The _Coupe_

Was Terrifying--One Saw Everything The Poor Dear Horses Did--And As To

The _Banquette_ She Could Imagine Herself Flying Out Of It,  If We So

Much As Went Over A Stone. As A Party We Were Strangers To The

Diligence; We Had All The Curiosity And Hesitation About It,  As Dicky

Remarked,  Of The Animals When Noah Introduced Them To The Ark. I Asked

Dicky To Describe The Diligence For The Purpose Of This Volume,  Thinking

That It Might,  Here And There,  Have A Reader Who Had Never Seen One,  And

He Said That,  As Soon As He Had Made Up His Mind Whether It Was Most

Like A Triumphal Chariot In a Circus Procession Or A Boudoir Car In an

Ambulance,  He Would; But Then His Eyes Wandered To Isabel,  Who Was

Pinker Than Ever In The Mountain Air,  And His Reasoning Faculties Left

Him. A Small German With A Very Red Nose,  Most Incoherent In His

Apparel--He Might Have Been A Baron Or Again A Hair-Dresser--Already

Occupied One Of The Seats In The _Interieur_,  So After Our Elders Had

Been Safely Deposited Beside Him The _Banquette_ And The _Coupe_ Were

Left,  As Mrs. Portheris Said,  To The Adventurous Young People. Dicky And

I Had Conspired,  For The Sustained Effect On Mrs. Portheris,  To Sit In

The _Banquette_,  While Isabel Was To Suffer Mr. Mafferton In The

_Coupe_--An Arrangement Which Her Mother Viewed With Entire Complacency.

"After All," Said Mrs. Portheris To Momma,  "We'Re Not In Hyde Park--And

Young People Will Be Young People." We Had Not Counted,  However,  With

The Senator,  Who Suddenly Realised,  As Dicky Was Handing Me Up,  That It

Was His Business,  In The Capacity Of Doge,  To Interfere. It Is To His

Credit That He Found It Embarrassing,  On Account Of His Natural,  Almost

Paternal,  Dislike To Make Things Unpleasant For Dicky. He Assumed A

Sternly Impenetrable Expression,  Thought About It For A Moment,  And Then

Approached Mr. Mafferton.

 

"I'D Be Obliged To You," He Said,  "If You Could Arrange,  Without Putting

Yourself Out Any,  To Change Places With Young Dod,  There,  As Far As St.

Moritz. I Have My Reasons--But Not Necessarily For Publication. See?"

 

Mr. Mafferton'S Eye Glistened With Appreciation Of The Confidence

Reposed In Him. "I Shall Be Most Happy," He Said,  "If Dod Doesn'T Mind."

But Dicky,  With Indecent Haste,  Was Already In The _Coupe_. "Don'T

Mention It,  Mafferton," He Said Out Of The Window. "I'M Delighted--At

Least--Whatever The Senator Says Has Got To Be Done,  Of Course," And He

Made An Attempt To Look Hurt That Would Not Have Imposed Upon Anybody

But A Self-Constituted Doge With A Guilty Conscience. I Took My

Bereavement In Stony Calm,  With Possibly Just A Suggestion About My

Eyebrows And Under-Lip That Some Day,  On The Far Free Shores Of Lake

Michigan,  A Downtrodden Daughter Would Re-Assert Herself; Poppa

Re-Entered An _Interieur_ Darkened By A Thunder-Cloud On The Brow Of His

Aunt Caroline; And We Started.

 

It Was Some Time Before Mr. Mafferton Interfered In The Least With The

Engadine. He Seemed Wrapped In a Cloud Of Vain Imaginings,  Sprung,

Obviously,  From Poppa'S Ill-Considered Request. I Understood His

Emotions And Carefully Respected His Silence. I Was Unwilling To Be

Instructed About The Engadine Either Botanically Or Geologically--It Was

More Agreeable Not To Know The Names Of The Lovely Little Foreign

Flowers,  And Quite Pleasant Enough That Every Turn In The Road Showed Us

A White Mountain Or A Purple One Without Having To Understand What It

Was Made Of. Besides,  I Particularly Did Not Wish To Precipitate

Anything,  And There Are Moments When A Mere Remark About The Weather

Will Do It. I Had Been Suffering A Good Deal From My Conscience Since

Mrs. Portheris Had Told Me That Poppa Had Written To Arthur--I Didn'T

Mind Him Enduring Unnumbered Pangs Of Hope Deferred,  But It Was Quite

Another Thing That He Should Undergo The Unnecessary Martyrdom Of

Imagining That He Had Been Superseded By Dicky Dod. On Reflection,  I

Thought It Would Be Safer To Start Mr. Mafferton On The Usual Lines,  And

I Nerved Myself To Ask Him Whether He Could Tell Me Anything About The

Prehistoric Appearance Of These Lovely Mountains.

 

"I Am Glad," He Responded Absently,  "That You Admire My Favourite Alps."

Nothing More. I Tried To Prick Him To The Consideration Of The Scenery

By Asking Him Which Were His Favourite Alps,  But This Also Came To

Nothing. Having Acknowledged His Approval Of The Alps,  He Seemed Willing

To Let Them Go Unadorned By Either Fact Or Fancy. I Offered Him

Sandwiches,  But He Seemed To Prefer His Moustache. Presently He Roused

Himself.

 

"I'M Afraid You Must Think Me Very Uninteresting,  Miss Wick," He Said.

 

"Dear Me,  No," I Replied. "On The Contrary,  I Think You Are A Lovely

Type."

 

"Type Of An Englishman?" Mr. Mafferton Was Not Displeased.

 

"Type Of Some Englishmen. You Would Not Care To Represent The--Ah,

Commercial Classes?"

 

"If I Had Been Born In That Station," Replied Mr. Mafferton Modestly,  "I

Should Be Very Glad To Represent Them. But I Should _Not_ Care To Be A

Labour Candidate."

 

"It Wouldn'T Be Very Appropriate,  Would It?" I Suggested. "But Do You

Ever Mean To Run For Anything,  Really?"

 

"Certainly Not," Mr. Mafferton Replied,  With Slight Resentment. "In Our

Family We Never Run. But,  Of Course,  I Will Succeed My Uncle In The

Upper House."

 

"Dear Me!" I Exclaimed. "So You Will! I Should Think It Would Be Simply

Lovely To Be Born A Legislator. In Our Country It Is Attained By Such

Painful Degrees." It Flashed Upon Me In a Moment Why Mr. Mafferton Was

So Industrious In collecting General Information. He Was Storing It Up

Against The Day When He Would Be Able To Make Speeches,  Which Nobody

Could Interrupt,  In The House Of Lords.

 

The Conversation Flagged Again,  And I Was Driven To Comment Upon The

Appearance Of The Little German Down In The _Interieur_. It Was Quite

Remarkable,  Apart From The Bloom On His Nose,  His Pale-Blue Eyes

Wandered So Irresponsibly In Their Sockets,  And His Scanty,  Flaxen Beard

Made Such An Unsuccessful Effort To Disguise The Amiability Of His Chin.

He Wore A Braided Cotton Coat To Keep Cool,  And A Woollen Comforter To

Keep Warm,  And From Time To Time He Smilingly Invited The Attention Of

The Other Three To Vast Green Maps Of The Country,  Which I Could See Him

Apologising For Spreading Over Mrs. Portheris'S Capacious Lap. It Was

Interesting To Watch His Joyous Sense Of Being In Foreign Society,  And

His Determination To Be Agreeable Even If He Had To Talk All The Time.

Now And Then A Sentence Bubbled Up Over The Noise Of The Wheels,  As When

He Had The Happiness To Discover The Nationalities Of His

Fellow-Travellers.

 

"Ach,  Is It So? From England,  From America Also,  And I From Markadorf

Am! Four Peoples,  To See Zis So Beautiful Switzerland From Everyveres In

One Carriage We Are Come!" He Smiled At Them One After Another In The

Innocent Joy Of This Wonderful Fact,  And It Made Me Quite Unhappy To See

How Unresponsive They Had Grown.

 

"In America I Haf One Uncle Got----"

 

"No,  I Don'T Know Him," Said The Senator,  Who Was Extremely Tired Of

Being Expected To Keep Up With Society In castle Garden.

 

"But Before I Vas Born Going,  Mein Uncle I Myself Haf Never Seen! To

Chicago Mit Nossings He Went,  Und Now Letters Ve Are Always Getting It

Is Goot Saying."

 

"Made Money,  Has He?" Poppa Inquired,  With Indifference.

 

"Mit Some Small Flours Of Large Manufacture Selling. Dose Small

Flours--Ze Name Forgotten I Haf--Ze Breads Making,  Ze Cakes Making,  Ze

Maedschen----"

 

"Baking Powder!" Divined Momma.

 

"Bakings--Powder! In america It Is Moch Eat. So Mine Uncle Blittens----"

 

"Josef Blittens?" Exclaimed Poppa.

 

"Blittens Und Josef Also! The Name Of Mine Uncle To You Is Known! He Is

So Rich,  Mit Carriage,  Piano,  Large Family--He Is Now Famous Also,  Hein?

My Goot Uncle!"

 

"He'S Been My Foreman For Fifteen Years," Said Poppa,  "And I Don'T Care

Where He Came From; He'S As Good An American Now As There Is In The

Union. I Am Pleased To Make The Acquaintance Of Any Member Of His

Family. There'S Nothing In The Way Of Refreshments To Be Got Till We

Next Change Horses,  But As Soon As That Happens,  Sir,  I Hope You Will

Take Something."

 

After That We Began To Rattle Down The Other Side Of The Julier And I

Lost The Thread Of The Conversation,  But I Saw That Herr Blittens'

Determination To Practise English Was Completely Swamped In The

Senator'S Desire To Persuade Him Of The Advantages Of Emigration.

 

"I Never See A Foreigner In His Native Land," Said Mr. Mafferton,

Regarding This One With Disapproval,  "Without Thinking What A Pity It Is

That Any Portion Of The Earth,  So Desirable For Instance As This Is,

Should Belong To Him." Which Led Me To Suggest That When He Entered

Political Life In _His_ Native Land Mr. Mafferton Should Aim At The

Cabinet,  He Was Obviously So Well Qualified To Sustain British

Traditions.

 

My Companion'S Mind Seemed To Be So Completely Diverted By This Prospect

That I Breathed Again. He Could Be Depended Upon I Knew,  Never To Think

Seriously Of Me When There Was An Opportunity Of Thinking Seriously Of

Himself,  And In That Certainty I Relaxed My Efforts To Make It Quite

Impossible That Anything Should Happen. I Forgot The Contingencies Of

The Situation In Finding Whiter Glaciers And Deeper Gorges,  And Looking

For The Bergamesque Sheep And Their Shepherds Which Baedeker Assured Us

Were To Be Seen Pasturing On The Slopes And Heights Of The Julier

Wearing Long Curling Locks,  Mantles Of Brown Wool,  And Peaked Calabrian

Hats. We Grew Quite Frivolous Over This Phenomenon,  Which Did Not

Appear,  And It Was Only After Some Time That We Observed The Baedeker To

Be Of 1877,  And Decided That The Home Of Truth Was Not In Old Editions.

It Seemed To Me Afterwards That Mr. Mafferton Had Been Waiting For His

Opportunity; He Certainly Took Advantage Of A Very Insufficient One.

 

"It'S Exactly," Said I,  Talking Of The Compartments Of The Diligence,

"As If Isabel And Dicky Had The First Floor Front,  Momma And Poppa The

Dining Room,  And You And I The Second Floor Back."

 

It Was One Of Those Things That One Lives To Repent If One Survives Them

Five Seconds; But My Remorse Was Immediately Swallowed Up In

Consequences. I Do Not Propose To Go Into The Details Of Mr. Mafferton'S

Second Attempt Upon My Insignificant Hand--To Be Precise,  I Wear Fives

And A Quarter--But He Began By Saying That He Thought We Could Do Better

Than That, 

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