"Kind, my dear," she exclaimed in a shocked tone. "What business
have they to be 'kind'? It is for us to be kind, for _them_ to be
respectful. I cannot say I met any such. I had an experience once
which left an indelible impression on my mind. You," she continued,
turning to one of the other women, who were drinking in this
unprejudiced view of our country, "can have no conception of what
that country really is. While we were in New York, trying to save
something out of the wreck of the Erie, my husband met a man from the
West who told him that there was a fortune to be made in
silver-mines, and he started with him to look into it. I may say
here that he lost every penny he put into this venture. The mines
were 'pickled'--no, I think the word they used was 'salted.'
"However, that does not signify now--what I was going to tell you
was, that he was detained longer than he had expected, and wrote me
to join him in a place called Cheyenne. So I started; but what I
endured in those sleeping-cars I never told even my husband. It
wasn't proper! The passengers were of the most ordinary type, mostly
bagmen, I should say. And the women! Vulgar and overdressed. I
must say, however, I was rather pleased with the black man who waited
on the passengers. He was rather grotesque, but was the only one I
saw who seemed to have at all the bearing of a servant, and even he
had a habit of smiling when spoken to which looked like impudence,
till one learned that the poor creature had never been properly
trained. Well, at length we reached Cheyenne. I had been told that
it was the capital of the State, or whatever the district was called,
and you may imagine my disgust when I found that it was a mere jumble
of miserable wooden houses.
"My husband was not there to meet me--he had gone into the mountains
to inspect a mine, and there had been a 'wash-out' or a 'hot-box.' I
am sure I do not know the difference; I only know it was either the
one or the other which continually caused delays. So there I was,
with no one to meet me, and it was night. I looked round for a
porter, and of course there was none. I saw a rough-looking man
leaning against the station-house, and said to him: 'My man, carry my
portmanteau to the hotel, please.'"
The pause which followed was so long that I thought the story ended,
or that the narrator had fallen asleep. But I was mistaken--her
emotion choked her. Finally one of the others said:
"And what happened then?"
In a sepulchral tone she answered: "_He spat!_ Then, without a word,
he picked up the bag and led the way to the hotel. I handed him a
shilling, and instead of touching his cap--by the way, it was not a
cap at all, but a hat with a huge brim--which, if you please, he took
off with a flourish and, declining the tip, remarked: 'Always a
pleasure to help a lady!' I thought I should have died of shame at
his insolence!"
I nearly choked, but fortunately did not, for every one else was
shocked. After a painful silence Lady Agatha continued: "I must say
some people have a peculiar sense of humor. I told this shocking
story to Charlie Beresford, and he laughed till the tears ran down
his face, and asked me to let him put it into a book he is writing on
America. But I would not consent. It might give offense--Americans
are very sensitive--and I think it most important that nothing should
be done to cause ill-feeling between the two countries, for, as Sir
George was saying at dinner, one cannot tell how soon we may need one
another's help."
Here Gertrude, who had been walking on the terrace with the
complacent secretary, came in and took me to her room to talk about
the blue-eyed Guy.
Now you see why I do not want John to see this letter. He thinks he
has a strong sense of humor, but it is ten to one he would no more
understand the dowager than she understood the gentleman in the
sombrero. How I should like to meet Sir Charles Beresford and hear
him on dowagers and cowboys!
But, honestly, are not the English the most impossible people! I do
not mean ridiculous--no one would accuse them of being that--but
funny as the camel is. "There ain't no sich animal." Only there is!