How many persons must perforce get all their romance at second hand! Of
course, as my dear father often said, gentlewomen should get their
experiences from books and from the stage, and no lady experiences the
primal emotions except vicariously. But none the less I had occasionally
been aware of the desire to live more full a life than hitherto
circumstance had rendered possible. Now I was brought into such intimate
contact with a young career that I felt almost as though I were indeed
living it myself, and not half an hour after my entrance upon my new
duties I was, as it were, engulfed in the personality of my charge.
"Come on into your room!" she said, picking up my carpetbag as easily as
if it had been a mere trifle. "Come on, Dicky; bring the box!"
The Dicky person obeyed whistling a jaunty tune, and presently I found
myself established in a most luxurious bedroom. The chauffeur vanished,
closing the door, and Peaches, disposing the luggage upon a receptable
constructed for that very purpose, perched upon the foot of the bed, her
long limbs making that lofty elevation none too high for her. I soon
learned that she seldom sat upon a chair if anything else offered.
"Say, Miss Talbot," she began as I laid out my toilet articles--"say,
Miss Talbot, isn't Dick a king?"
"Eh?" said I, startled.
"I said isn't Dick a corker?" she repeated. "Do you know, I would have
just about died out on the ranch if it hadn't been for him. Pa picked
him up in Fresno when he was a hopper--picking hops with a bunch of
greasers. Brought him home for me to play with. We went swimming
together and riding together and everything when we were kids. Then pa
sent him to school with me, and when he got some learning he gave him a
job as foreman on the home outfit."
"He seems a nice young person," said I, "but he is a chauffeur!"
"You bet he is!" said Peaches enthusiastically. "The first car pa bought
made him that! He can do anything with a car. I am in love with him!"
"Miss Pegg!" I said horrified. "A servant! What would your father say!"
"He'd say considerable!" remarked Peaches. "But he doesn't know it. And
anyhow, I don't want to marry Dicky, even if he is your cousin. I just
like being in love with some one, and he's simply crazy about me!"
Her innocence, not to say ignorance, was appalling. High time, indeed,
that she had a proper chaperon!
"You must not play with so serious a subject!" I said severely. "And the
young man is no relation of mine!"
"How can you be sure of that?" asked the terrible young woman. "There
may have been some live wire in your family that went West, you know!"
To this I had no reply, for in point of fact my father's younger brother
had indeed been a wild spirit who refused to enter the ministry and had
vanished to the West, from which region he had never returned nor sent
any token of his existence except, upon one occasion shortly after his
departure, a specimen of polished redwood, which at that very moment was
reposing in our curio cabinet at home. I determined, however, to make no
mention of the circumstances. One is so seldom able to avoid one's
relatives.
"Do you not think a simpler frock would be better for luncheon?" I
asked, changing the subject. Love was rather too personal a matter on
which to press just at first, but really the girl's clothing was
certainly somewhere within my legitimate province. "Your gown is very
beautiful. And you won't be offended, but I am sure your father expects
me to tell you these things."
She looked at my own costume by way of reply; not rudely, but frankly
and interestedly.
"I don't believe you know one scrap more about clothes than I do!" she
said at last. "We both of us look the limit. But after all, what does it
matter? You are dowdy and I am crude, but we should worry!"
"Come on down or pa will be clawing the air," was her greeting.
She left me then to my unpacking and I did not see her again for about
two hours. Then she stuck her head in abruptly, without knocking. "He
certainly can eat, though I don't think much of the food in the East.
You ought to see the meals in California!"
There was no resisting the young giantess. With no further ado she swung
me along to the parlor, where her still more gigantic parent gave me an
absent-minded greeting, quite as if I had been in his employ for years.
He took a sheaf of papers to the table with him, and we descended to the
dining room, I vaguely wondering whether or not the young chauffeur
would join us. Peaches seemed to discern my thought.
"Dick won't eat with us since pa bought him that trick suit of clothes!"
she complained. "And he says he actually likes wearing them, though I
know perfectly well he only does it because he thinks it gives us
class."
During luncheon Mr. Pegg spoke only once.
"All ready to sail to-morrow?" he inquired.
"Yep!" replied his daughter. "Say, pa," she went on, "Miss Talbot's got
a cousin in Monte Carlo that's a honest-to-goodness countess!"
"Cable her we are coming!" said Silas Pegg truculently.
And though I believe that Mentone had been our original destination the
cable was actually dispatched, though I wondered somewhat how Cousin
Abby would receive it. In her girlhood she had been rather formal, and I
entertained a qualm or two about sending it. But we were not asking to
visit her, so things might not be too dreadful after all. Besides which,
I was beginning to experience a distinct liking for these Californians
with all their native crudities. My world was a magic one now, and a
visit to the Veruchio household appeared no more strange than any other
part of my adventure.
Next morning Alicia opened my door quite unceremoniously and disclosed
herself clad in a nautical costume of blue serge with a sailor collar
and a little white hat absurdly set upon her magnificent head.
"Heave ahoy!" she called cheerily. "We are about to sail the ocean blue!
How do you like my pull-for-the-shore effect? Say, have you ever been on
a boat? Is it anything as bad as a Pullman sleeper?"
"My dear, I have been on neither!" I protested.
"Gee, I hope the berths are longer!" she exclaimed. "They were built on
the idea that none of the natives would want to leave California, I
guess, and they were darn near right! So you've never been anywhere.
Well, I had a hunch I'd be the one to do the chaperoning. Never mind,
I'll show you the world. I have decided overnight that I really ought to
take you in charge, and I'm not one to shirk my duty."
"Very well, my dear," said I. "But first may I suggest that a simple
coat and skirt would be less conspicuous and quite as appropriate? Will
you not change to it, if you have one?"
"All right; I will if you will smooth out those groups of curls," said
Peaches, eying me critically.
"But I have worn them always!" I protested, shocked.
"Just the same, they are the limit!" she said stubbornly. "And so are
those silk gloves. Come on, let me fix your hair! No--I have a bright
idea. Let's have the girl that does hair here in the hotel fix you up.
Come on, be a sport!"
I looked at myself in the mirror, and truth to tell my curled fringe did
appear a trifle old-fashioned. But I refused, with thanks and dignity.
"Miss Peaches!" I said. "Your father engaged me as I am, and I feel it
incumbent upon me to remain thus."
"Oh, all right!" said she, and strode out of the room. I fancied she was
angry; but to my surprise, upon our departure she appeared clad in quite
a lady-like tailored suit and a small hat.
"Oh, I know when somebody gives me a real tip," she said, though I
hadn't spoken; and then, accompanied by a most stupendous array of
luggage, including my own small trunk and valise, we set forth upon the
most perilous journey of which I could conceive.
Indeed, indeed I was grateful throughout it for the thought that our
minister, Mr. MacAdams, prayed so loudly for the safety of travelers by
land and sea each Sunday, and that this was Saturday, hence there would
be but little delay between our departure and the weekly renewal of his
petition. For we began our travels in no less a vehicle than a terrific
red automobile driven by the irrepressible Richard, or Dick, Talbot, who
greeted me cheerfully and somehow not actually disrespectfully as
"Cousin Mary," which was not, of course, in any sense correct.
I entered the vehicle with much unuttered protest. I did not like motor
vehicles and had indeed never entered one before, having always
maintained their inelegance. My dear father kept horses, though it is
true he died somewhat prior to the invention of automobiles.
Nevertheless I took my seat beside Mr. Pegg in the rear, and concealed
as best I might a terror which was not lessened when, stopping at the
railway station, Talbot, the chauffeur, was dismissed to gather up some
spare bags, and Peaches took the steering gear. The remainder of the
ride is a blur in my memory, filled with a horrid realization that we
upset an apple cart, or I thought we had, until looking backward I saw
it miraculously intact; that we seemingly murdered two police officers,
most certainly grazed a load of baled hay, and barely escaped collision
with a dozen pedestrians. Yet at the conclusion of this momentous
experience Mr. Pegg, who had calmly smoked a large cheroot during the
trip, complimented his daughter upon her skill. I was beginning to
understand their cryptic speech a little better or else I should not
have comprehended.
"Some speed queen!" he remarked.
"One hoss or sixty, I should trouble which!" said she.
And then Talbot, the chauffeur, or Richard, as I determined to call him,
reappeared, and together with a crowd of porters and other travelers we
passed into the gloomy cavern of a covered dock and up a most precarious
gangway into a ship which differed little upon first acquaintance from
the great hotel we had just left, except that the apartments were rather
smaller. I had once before taken a boat trip to Nantucket to see an old
servant of ours who was ill, and the vessel which conveyed me was not in
the least like the Gigantic. But the impression of the latter's
resemblance to a hotel was presently removed from my mind. In point of
fact everything was removed from not only my mind but from the other
portions of my anatomy which delicacy prevents my dwelling on.
Suffice to state that the fact of our being in possession of the state
apartments, the novelty of the compact arrangements, the excitement of
the trip, the amazing crowds of strangers--all presently were as naught
to me. Even my princely emolument was as nothing, and the sacrifice I
had made for my sister appeared of no importance. Nothing appeared of
any importance except the distress of my body. I longed most ardently
for the stability of the house on Chestnut Street, and it seemed
inconceivable that I had ever left my dear sister of my own free will.
My idea of paradise became distorted from the true conception to a
vision of any place other than that in which I was. Death, once so far
removed from my desire, seemed the only tolerable condition. I may
remark in passing that this state of mind did not develop in me until
after the boat had passed Boston Light and encountered the waters of the
Atlantic.
The account of my first impressions of a transatlantic voyage will never
be written by me, as they contain material fit only for a _materia
medica_. How people can take such a trip for pleasure is to me a mystery
as insoluble as the fourth dimension, which was a favorite topic with my
dear father. But incredible as it may seem, some persons on the boat
actually laid claim to an enjoyable experience, and among these Spartans
were my employer and his daughter; and also, by the latter's evidence,
the chauffeur, who was traveling first class. Peaches came frequently to
the side of my brass bedstead and bathed my forehead with cologne water
the while she attempted to cheer me with an account of her doings.
"I told pa I'd have to look after you!" she said triumphantly. "And I
will. Never mind, Miss Governess, I'll get you to Europe alive and show
you the country. Couldn't you come on deck? It's a swell deck, and
there's the nicest young man up there. We've got acquainted, and Dick is
terribly jealous!"
"Alicia!" I managed to gasp. "Who is the young man?"
"I don't know!" she said truthfully. "I forgot to ask his name, but he's
a regular sailor in good standing."
"Do you mean to say you've scraped acquaintance with a common sailor?" I
said feebly. "Oh! Alicia! I fear I am neglecting my duty to you, and yet
heaven knows I have no choice!"
"If you'd only get up and out you'd be better!" she pronounced. "And we
might find a captain or a mate or something for you. Couldn't you eat a
little steak and onions?" she added anxiously. "It would give you
strength."
Later she returned and sat beside me with a look of rapture upon her
face. I was in an exhausted state despite the herb tea which I had had
made by the sea-going chambermaid from my own medicine cabinet, and
taken with difficulty, yet I was calm enough for her speech to impress
me.
"The moon is up," she said dreamily. "And the waves are like the Sierra
Mountains gone mad and reeling drunkenly in their purple-and-black
mystery, with the foam like the snows that the yellow sun never melts.
The air is like wine. I am glad he kissed me."
"Oh, Peaches, Peaches! Who kissed you?" I moaned, struggling to my elbow
in horror.
"Dick," she replied. "Somebody had to kiss somebody on a night like
this, and it just happened to be us. Don't worry, it really isn't
important. I never lose my head, though between ourselves I sometimes
wish I could. When I do I'll marry the clever man. But I've never met
him yet, and sometimes that makes me sad. I want to be in love. Really
in love. Don't you?"
Despite my condition I could not but be attentive.
"I do not dwell upon such subjects," I replied.
"Oh, yes you do!" said Peaches imperturbably. "Everyone does! Even cows
and birds and Chinese cooks. But some of us, like you, don't have much
luck, and some, like me, have a trick played on them by Nature that
ruins everything."
"How so, my dear?" I asked.
"I'm too tall!" said Peaches in a sudden burst of indignation at fate.
"I'd have to lean over to spoon with anybody I ever met! My shoulder is
the highest and therefore the handiest! My hand is generally the
biggest! Oh, Lord! How can a girl love a man she has to bend down to
kiss?"
And suddenly she rushed from the cabin, overcome with emotion, leaving
me to sniff at a camphor bottle and contemplate an entirely new, to me,
phase of feminine tragedy. And incidentally to feel more deeply a sense
of the responsibility of my position toward this amazingly innocent,
terrifyingly frank young savage, who wanted to be in love and did not
hesitate to say so, and who kissed the chauffeur simply and solely
because it was a moonlit night! I felt thoroughly convinced that
Euphemia would not approve of any such conduct, and that my dear father
would have condemned it utterly, and I made every effort to rise next
day and finish out the voyage in close proximity to my charge.
But somehow or other the span of time had escaped me during my
indisposition, and upon completing my toilet, with the aid of the young
person who had brewed my herb tea, I learned to my astonishment that we
were in port and that my ability to rise was founded, not, as I had
fancied, in my having attained what is rather indelicately known as "sea
legs," but was due to the fact of the boat being at a standstill. I only
then realized that I had been ill for five days. Richard, the chauffeur,
accompanied Peaches when she came to get me, and somehow or other they
evolved me through the complications of the dock, and at last I stood
upon foreign soil.
Not, of course, that the English are really foreigners, as my dear
father often remarked. But I must confess that the soil of Liverpool
felt quite foreign to me. It appeared, in fact, entirely unsteady and
of a heaving disposition, more what one might have expected of the
neighborhood of Vesuvius and the other earthquake countries. But Peaches
only laughed at me when I called her attention to the circumstance.
"It's you that's unsteady, not the street!" she jeered. "Gee, what a
town! What a country! They ought to see San Francisco! Why, we've done
twice as well in half the time!"
I confess I was disappointed with what I saw of England, which was
little enough, because Mr. Pegg stopped only long enough to pick up an
English car, which had been ordered far in advance and was awaiting us
at Liverpool. It was a monstrous affair of black trimmed with vermilion,
and recalled to my mind nothing so much as the far-famed dragon which
was slain by St. George--so strong and fierce and capable it looked.
Richard, the chauffeur, almost wept at sight of it.
"Oh, baby doll!" he said over and over. "If that isn't some engine!"
"Some lug box!" remarked Peaches in that cryptic language in which she
spoke to her familias. "Must have set pa back a bushel of berries!"
"I want to hit the trail for the Calais boat!" said Mr. Pegg. "We aren't
going to stay in England. There's no art in England. I had an English
remittance man working for me once and he told me so. He says all the
good art is in the Catholic countries, except what has been smuggled out
of them. He told me so, and he was a educated feller. He educated me out
of the entire pay roll one week, and is now working for the U. S.
Government in San Quentin."
"But, Mr. Pegg!" I ventured to protest. "Think of Westminster Abbey and
the Tower and Stratford-on-Avon, the home of Shakespere, and--and real
English muffins and English culture generally. Surely you do not intend
to deprive your daughter of it?"
"Not by a damn sight. Meaning no offense, Miss Talbot!" said Silas. "But
the trouble is they all speak English over here, and we got enough
Boston accent right on your person. I figure that foreign travel is
foreign travel, and I mean we should go right to Rome, the home of art;
and after we do it up thoroughly, work back along the coast where they
speak in Italian and French. Somehow it's foreigner!"
There was no denying that, and disappointed as I was I held my peace.
Mr. Pegg had a way of ordering our existence ahead, as if we were a part
of his business. And indeed I presently ascertained that the plunge
toward Italy was at bottom a commercial undertaking. It was the orange
and olive groves, not the art galleries, that lured him.
"I'm thinking of forming an American-Italian olive crushers'
association," he confided to me as we sped alarmingly along a toy road
amidst scenes which I am sure would have proved quaint had we been going
slowly enough to see them. "And an orange trust that will be a
world-wide proposition. Oranges are a great little fruit--eat 'em, drink
'em and preserve 'em--the wood is swell. A great game, Miss Talbot, that
hurts nobody and is of benefit to all. I'm to meet this here Pagreleri,
the president of the Sorrento Company; and while Peaches and you trot
round to the picture shows--I mean galleries--I'll put in a little sight
seeing on God's green hills! I'd rather see the prospect of a hundred
thousand vats of brine and oil than the finest picture any artist ever
drew."
"Are we going to the Ritz, pa?" said Peaches, breaking in with a shout
from her seat in front beside Richard. "I'm dying to see if the Ritz is
as nice as the St. Francis, though I bet it won't be!"
"Yep!" said the parent, and began operations upon a new cigar. And that
is all that I saw of London the historical. The dining room and the
bedrooms of a hotel that had not twopennyworth of difference from that
in Boston. We dined at seven in an almost empty salon, and went
afterward to see a motion picture of some American by the name of
Charles Chapin or something of the sort, an amazing affair centering
about a custard pie and not at all to my taste. Mr. Pegg and Miss
Peaches were enormously intrigued by it, as was Richard, the chauffeur,
whom they insisted should accompany them. They laughed continuously; at
what, I could not appreciate. And it was in this theater that we first
beheld that young man who was fated to play so conspicuous part in our
lives, and, alas, in the career of many a newspaper reporter as well!
It is my impression that I was the first to notice him, and my attention
was directed to him by the curious behavior of two men who sat directly
in front of me. Except for their observations concerning him he might
easily have escaped my notice. But as the entertainment offered me was
so far removed from my understanding my interest was focused upon the
personnel of those members of the audience who chanced to be seated
nearest me. My dear father was in the habit of saying that observation
of the human race is the truest form of education and I have ever
diligently tried to follow whatever precepts he laid down. And so this
evening I had in turn observed a stout person in a beaded gown, a pair
of young soldiers in red coats, and then the two men directly in front
of me. They were unobtrusive in appearance, but palpably of Latin
extraction. Their clothing was nondescript and they would have passed
unnoticed in a crowd. One wore a little black mustache and the other
bore a slight scar near his left ear. As I looked at them I perceived
that they were giving even less attention to the picture than myself,
and seemed to be furtively searching for something out in the vast area
of semidarkness ahead of us. Suddenly one clutched the other by the arm
and spoke.
"There he is!" he said in a low tone, speaking in French.
Instantly both became alert. Almost imperceptibly the man with the scar
contrived to point without raising his hand. But I followed the
direction of his companion's eyes, and made out the objective, a young
man who sat on the curve of the orchestra seats just under the balcony,
below us. His position was such that when he turned his head it was
possible to see his profile against the exit light beyond. And it was a
profile one would not easily forget. I at once thought of Romeo--that
daring young Italian lover who met so unfortunate an end, and whose
tragic story was one of the secret absorptions of my girlhood. Yet this
young man even in the dimness of the theater conveyed a sense of
strength which had not been convincing to me in the actor whom I had
once seen in that part. He sat well above his neighbors in height, and
there was a certain swing and rhythm to his broad shoulders as he swayed
with amusement at the projection of the cinematograph that conveyed
remarkable resiliency and buoyant youth or, as I fear my charge would
express it, "pep." He was a gentleman, I could see that, of unusual
elegance, and attractive enough to command my attention without what
followed on the part of the two other observers. Both spoke in French.
"Sapristi! He will not escape this time!" said the man with the
mustache, pitching his voice very low. "The eel!"
"Will you do for him at the door?" whispered the other. "Or as he
attempts to reach the hotel?"
"I have something better than that," said the first. "We know he has it
on him. The hotel may be too late. He must not get to the theater door
before we do--or else----"
I heard no more because of the sudden palpitations of my heart, which
seemed likely to smother me. These two men were plainly robbers planning
to waylay and perhaps murder that nice-looking young man who sat there
in such innocent, unconscious enjoyment of the photographic antics of
the Charley person! It was too terrible!
How could I warn him? Should I attempt to explain the situation to the
competent Mr. Pegg and the muscular Richard? That would be impossible of
accomplishment without also precipitating matters with the conspirators,
who would surely overhear me. As I was rapidly revolving these thoughts
action was violently put upon me. The picture flashed "The End," and the
young man whose life was in danger rose to leave, as did several others.
His seat, as I have stated, was downstairs, while we occupied a box.
Thus he was far nearer the door than were we. As he rose, so did the
Frenchmen in front of me. In order to make their exit it was necessary
for them to pass my seat, which was a step above them. As they turned
to come up I rose with a little cry and took the only course open.
I fainted most dexterously, knocking down one of them and collapsing
upon the bosom of the other, and lay there in a determined stupor until,
according to my calculations, the young man must be quite well away. The
confusion was dreadful and it was no pleasant matter fainting by intent
upon the bosom of an intended assassin, but it served to delay them for
all of ten minutes, at the end of which time I came to under the anxious
ministrations of my own people and of the two foreigners, whom Peaches,
an unconscious accessory, pressed into active service much against their
will. And my apparent accident served a double purpose, thus proving my
dear father's maxim that virtue is its own reward, for it disclosed the
fact that I had made a real impression upon the emotional side of my
charge.
"Oh, Free, you dear old thing!" she was saying as I opened my eyes. "Say
you are not hurt! Dear--please say you are all right!"
"I feel dreadfully!" I murmured feebly, looking her right in the eye.
And then I did something which, having been reared a gentlewoman, I had
never anticipated doing. I deliberately winked at her. And Peaches took
it marvelously. In a flash of understanding that I had some ulterior
motive behind my behavior she maintained what she calls her poker face
and winked back, and, assisting me in what she now knew to be my
pretense, helped me to a cab and back to the hotel.
Needless to say, however, I was not permitted to sleep that night until
she had the whole story from me. She came into my chamber with her
heavy hair hanging over her shoulders in two monstrous braids of molten
gold, and swathed in an outrageous robe of crimson-and-blue satin so
that she looked like a magnificent animated American flag. She curled up
upon the foot of my bed and listened eagerly.
"You wild Indian!" she exclaimed when I had finished the recital. "I
just knew I'd have to look after you! And I'll keep a closer watch from
now on. Oh you Boston! California was never like this."
In which she was eminently correct. But when she kissed me good night I
knew our friendship was sealed. The wink had done it.
Next morning we set out for Dover in that terrible car, without having
heard or seen anything of our hero. I confess I had absurdly hoped that
the hotel to which the conspirators had referred might prove to be ours,
but it was impossible to know if or not this was the case, as, of
course, we had no idea of what his name was, and he was nowhere about.
The newspaper naturally contained no mention of the incident inasmuch as
it had failed actually to occur, and the press is, of course, unlikely
to have any mention of a murder unless the crime is consummated. And so
it appeared that the incident was closed. I had begged Peaches not to
speak of its true import to either her father or her friend the
chauffeur, and this she solemnly promised.
"Oh, but Free!" she exclaimed rapturously. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if
you met again and fell in love!"
"Nonsense!" said I. "Why, he was young enough to have been my son!
Besides, I shall never marry!"
"That's the girl!" said Peaches. "They all say that just before the big
event. So cheer up, who knows their luck? Gee, I wish I could see him!"
And there was surely something prophetical in her speech, for Peaches
was fated to see him, though not for many hours afterward. And then she
found him for herself.
As I have stated, we set forth in that monstrous car for Dover, where we
embarked, car and all, upon an innocent-appearing little boat for what
was promised as a short journey. Possibly it was. I do not remember. I
only know that nothing in my previous nautical experience compared with
it. And when at last we landed and I had to some degree recovered my
equilibrium the most startling incident occurred. We once again were
seated, Mr. Pegg, Peaches and myself, in the car, ready to leave the
custom house behind us, and Richard, the chauffeur, was doing strange
things to the motor, when suddenly Alicia seized me by the arm.
"Free! Oh, Free!" she said in an excited whisper. "There is a man tall
enough for me!"
I looked, and lo and behold, walking through the crowd in a leisurely
fashion, a smart piece of luggage in either hand, was the young man of
the motion-picture theater. At the same moment I discerned the two
Frenchmen whose plot I had frustrated, and on the instant he also caught
sight of them, and abruptly changing his course he turned directly
toward us. Richard got in and started the engine.
"It's he!" I exclaimed excitedly. "It's my young man. Oh, the villains!
They are after him again! Oh, don't let them get him!"
"I won't," said Alicia promptly.
The young man was very close now, palpably, to our enlightened eyes,
endeavoring to avoid the appearance of flight. The two men in pursuit
were gaining on him rapidly. Suddenly Alicia beckoned to him and called.
"Here we are!" she said, and flung open the door of the car just as we
started to move. The young man sprang forward, threw in his bags,
slipped into the extra seat, slammed the door, and Peaches touched
Richard upon the shoulder.
"Drive for your life!" she shouted, and the big black car shot down the
street just as the two pursuers emerged, breathless, from the crowd.